So... this week... yeah, that's a full on conversation.
But first... my purple clad, purple prose writing erotic novelist bard... Harland Honeypot. I knew who his mother was, but until the games before Christmas I hadn't thought about his father much at all.
I knew he had one, but I thought perhaps his mother, Mimosa Honeypot, a "former" courtesan (she still has a few old regulars, but isn't taking on any new clients right now, thank you for asking) and current hostess and entertainer at the Blushing Nymph festhall, maybe didn't know who his father was, or did but hadn't told him, or had don't him but it wasn't a big deal to either of them.
Basically wherever she was in her life at the time and where she is now are two very different places, and a long term relationship doesn't fit anymore.
But then we met some Harpers in the last game we met before Christmas. And I knew that Harland didn't like the Harpers, even though he's is 100% perfect to be a member of said faction, but I couldn't remember WHY (I think it came up in our pre-game relationship dice rolls, but I honestly didn't write most of it down, as I didn't really care). So when we met said Harper agent, Harland instantly disliked her and was honestly kind of a dick about it. Which was fun to play, even if I didn't understand what was driving it initially.
But then I needed to work out WHY. Which led me to dear old dad. He was involved in something he shouldn't have been and the Harpers used him to get to the more important criminals but in the end hung him out to dry. And he ended up in prison because of it. Where he died. Or something. Like, he's definitely dead, because why else would the reaction have been that strong, even if he knew his dad was a bad guy. I'm okay with leaving it a little up in the air because basically I know that whatever the actual story is, Harland doesn't know it. He only knows the story he was told, ostensibly by his dad, who would therefore be an unreliable narrator to his own story.
I also know the Harpers have been through more than one instance of "traitors within", so maybe his dad was a Harper or working with them but was then betrayed by said traitor, maybe dad was a traitor himself. In the end it doesn't really matter.. it's enough for what I need.
And that was how Milo Tenpenny came to be. The poor schlub didn't even have a name before that point.
I don't think he and Mimosa (and I only just realised that they're both M names) ever married, which is part of the reason why Harland uses his mother's name... but also, as an author of erotic novels, which would you rather be called... Harland Tenpenny or Harland Honeypot?
Yeah, same.
Which of course led me to DnD Character Colouring Book for the parents. Partly because they'd just added the new dress at the time and that seemed appropriate for dear old Mum. I also enjoy that Dad is just a little bit derpy. Looking back at Harland's skin tone, I feel like Dad's skin should be darker, but maybe Dad spent too many nights out on the job and too many days catching up on his sleep.
Also, if they had class levels (which they don't), then Rogue and Bard respectively. And probably the Thief and College of Glamour subclasses honestly.
And the fact that it looks like Milo is checking Mimosa's goblet to see if she needs a top up, or has just topped her up, is completely accidental. I was more trying to get across that she's all fine wine and golden goblets and he's all dagger in your back and rotgut rum.
Anyway...
This week has been... too fucking much honestly.
So, after I finished last week's post, we learned that Fluffy's sister had tested positive, which meant that Fluffy was technically a close contact, which meant that because he spent like half of Friday with me, I was technically a close contact of him, which meant that Mr and Mrs, who we saw for DnD on Friday night were close contacts of the pair of us, and Ma, who I went shopping with on Saturday and then sat around and watched a movie with was also a close contact of me.
Fuckit.
I didn't care so much for myself, but Mrs is immuno compromised and Ma is just old.
So off they went to get tested on Saturday evening... and we had to wait until Sunday for results. I called Ma and advised her to, you know, not do her Sunday plans of going to see her equally old friends and instead stay home.
Sunday morning Fluffy was most convinced he was going to test positive... so I decided, fuckit, let's go and sneak a test in on Sunday morning while the lines are hopefully not super long and so that if the worst comes to the worst, I have my results back sooner rather than later.
So off to Hindmarsh we went. To the Educational Development Centre... retreading old ground from previous lives and all that. And a place that I've been to on more than one occasion under very different circumstances.
And as much as I didn't really dig the "have to get out of your car" aesthetic of the place, I did appreciate that it took me about as long to drive there as it did to get tested and I was back inside of an hour I think.
I also remembered to be very nice to all the staff because they're doing a very necessary job and also one where they don't get thanked anywhere near as much as they should do. And that included the girl whose main job seems to be "print out papers, fold them and place them in the right place for the nurses"... because nobody remembers to thank the admin staff. So I did. Also the nurses.
Anyway... stayed indoors for all of Sunday just to be sure. We got Fluffy's results back midway through Sunday... negative. And my results, when they came through on Monday, also negative.
Thank fuck.
Because, yeah, having to isolate for a week while also trying to find a new place to live, that wasn't going to be any kind of fun.
Speaking of...
I have currently backed 16 small boxes and two large boxes, including all of my books and most of my papers and tchotchkes. Plus I think six plastic storage tubs that I already had. All of my bookcases are stripped down and are just holding the stuff that still needs packing and the house looks like... well, it looks like I'm midway through packing for a move honestly.
Dining table isn't any clearer... every time I semi empty it, I just add more stuff to it, so there's that.
I also went through my CDs during the week... basically enough of them need to go in order for me to just have a single bookshelf worth, which may not make a lot of sense, but otherwise I'd have a weirdly shaped shelf to fill otherwise.
And I went to see two places last week. One said that it was in North Adelaide but was actually in Ovingham on the side of a hill and didn't have a stove. Nor a cooktop. So fuck that noise on any number of levels. If I'd known that before I went, I wouldn't have gone.
Then on Friday I went to another place that was within walking distance of my current place. It just seemed... small and grubby... didn't like it.
Currently I have, I think, at least four open inspections next week. And some, if not all of them, I'm going to need to start putting in applications for, even if they're not 100% perfect.
Fun times.
Also, as I messaged Fluffy mid way through the week... I am currently sick of every single thing that I own. Because either there's too many of them, they're difficult to pack, or I probably should have gotten rid of them at some point but just didn't.
In any event, there will come a time for culling after the move. Especially for random tchotchkes I think. I have a whole storage bin full of them that I never even got out here... or possibly the place before honestly... yeah, it's a whole lot of stuff that I like, but, honestly, if I don't have an actual spot for it, why is it hanging around.
Whether this mood lasts throughout the move and into the unpacking phase remains to be seen.
Anyway...
Due to aforementioned "close contact", even though all of their tests came back negative, Fluffy and the fam still needed to insolate for the week, so no Friday DnD. And I've pulled the plug on Thursday DnD for the month, because I kind of don't have, as mentioned last week, the mental bandwidth for it right now. Plus I need to be able to head out to open inspections in the evenings, just in case.
Also my back has been letting me know that it doesn't appreciate all the bending and carrying of heavy objects... and I don't have a chiro appointment until next week sadly. So, yeah, more fun times.
justquietly... arrggghhhhhh.....
Which brings us around to today.
Which mostly involved me proverbially banging my head against the proverbial wall honestly.
First up, supermarket. And because I didn't buy fuck all last week due to... last week... I needed to make up for it with additional stuff this week. Or, you know, the right amount of stuff.
Then it was back here for unpacking and... coming up with a plan for more packing of a different kind. Fun times. Or something.
So, it was off to the Reject Shop to get a couple more of those plastic storage tubs that are super useful for the more fragile of the tchotchkes. Plus I want to keep the last four of the smaller boxes for kitchen stuff.
And then it was back here to try and work out what to pack and how to pack it. Because most of what's left needs some amount of bubblewrap, it's just working out the how and the.... well, mostly the how of wrapping them up honestly. So we did that... take item out of glass container it usually lives in, wrap item in bubble wrap awkwardly, put item back in glass container, wrap whole thing in bubblewrap awkwardly, put entirely too much tape on it, look at weird lump that results... get next thing.
I also kept finding additional THINGS... stuff I'd clearly put in A Place at Some Time and then promptly forgotten about, only to discover it now and think "sorry, what... why is this a thing and when did I put that there?".
Right now my brain is mostly fried... my hands feel all weird and tingly from having handled too much bubblewrap and tape... and I still am mostly sick of every single thing I own.
Also, I now have a stack of "not moving company" cardboard boxes that I'm sure will come in useful eventually, but right now are just taking up space.
And just so we're clear... on a scale from Underwhelmed to Overwhelmed, I'm currently at Whelmed, dancing furiously on the borderline of Overwhelmed.
Fun. Fucking. Times.
Current mood:
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