Open Post: Who invented this calendar anyway?

[futaille]

How unfortunate.

Yes, Grantaire was fully aware that the year being longer at the mansion would logically cause seasons to drift when someone kept track of the old calendar, or at least what had been pinned down as the old calendar for convenience sake, which was almost necessary when people's arrivals weren't necessarily tied to the day they left. He hadn't given it too much thought last year, when his birthday, such that it was, arrived in spring like he was used to.

Dark, though, was unfortunate. Not inappropriate for the next notable anniversary coming up, but for this one, not at all. Of course, it wasn't as if he would have been planning much in the way of an event, Dark or no, but it would have been nice to treat himself to something or other, regardless.

Instead, he has installed himself in the game room, where he is carefully balancing dominoes on their ends to make a domino rally on the billiards table. It's a nice large flat surface, so it should work nicely. Have to keep entertained somehow.

Comments

[futaille]

"You'd have no time to do anything else but care for them."

[sagramore]

"What a horrifying thought. When would I ever get to make love?"

[futaille]

"Better for everyone that all your whims don't come true, then. Even if all the animals would adore you."

[sagramore]

Sagramore laughs. "The benevolent patriarch of the beasts."

[futaille]

"Exactly, oh grand patriarch."

[sagramore]

"I can think of worse fates, to be sure."

[futaille]

"Undoubtedly. Also better ones, to be sure, but there would be a certain charm to it."

[sagramore]

"Very pastoral, thinkst thou not? Another subject for an art."

[futaille]

"It could easily be pastoral, yes. I could see such a work going several different directions depending on the desired mood."

[sagramore]

"Oh? What else hast thou got in mind?"

[futaille]

"Oh, there are a few. Something comedic, with you drowning in animal care, surrounded by more animals than can comfortably fit on a canvas. Or something more starkly realistic instead of soft and pastoral, illustrating that it's hard work too. Or even something hearkening to biblical stories, like Adam naming the animals or Noah and the ark. Or there's the option of portraying you in place of St. Francis and his animals, a counterpoint to another saint's iconography being hijacked in another piece I'm working on."

[sagramore]

"Oh, what art thou working on?"

[futaille]

"A portrait of your husband that I think you'll find yourself fond of."

[sagramore]

"Christ, what a temptingly vague answer! I always find myself fond of portraits of my husband."

[futaille]

"Oh, of course it's vague. I don't want to give it away before you see it in all its glory."

[sagramore]

"I hate thee," fondly.

[futaille]

"Of course. And that's why you are about to make me an almost certainly terrible cake."

[sagramore]

"Bite thy tongue, it'll be delightful!"

[futaille]

"Oh, I never said it wouldn't be delightful."

[sagramore]

"Thou just said it would be terrible!"

[futaille]

"I have every expectation that it will be both. It will be terrible, and that will be delightful."

[sagramore]

"Interesting. Wilt thou eat it?"

[futaille]

"Of course I will. At least a slice."

[sagramore]

"And wilt thou compliment me?"

[futaille]

"Obviously."