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]

"Obviously."

[sagramore]

"And tell me what a good and kind master I am?" he teases.

[futaille]

"If you don't already know that, certainly."

[sagramore]

"I want to hear my good pup say it."

[futaille]

"You're a very good and kind master."

[sagramore]

Sagramore pulls to a stop and kisses him before starting off again. "We must be almost to the kitchens. Christ, I haven't lived here in too long."

[futaille]

He nods. "Just around the next corner."

[sagramore]

"Good. I'm too lazy for this sort of thing."

[futaille]

"Whatever you say." One more turn and they arrive at the kitchen.

[sagramore]

"Ah, there we are! Everything we need! Provided by the spirits." And there are five jars, too, filled with paper slips.

[futaille]

He looks them over. "... New ones?"

[sagramore]

"They know! They're looking out for us."

[futaille]

"But this month? How?"

[sagramore]

"Obviously it's the significance of the anniversary. Wouldst thou like to draw or wilt thou put thy fate entirely in my hands?"

[futaille]

"I leave it to your capable hands."

[sagramore]

"Very well."

With a little flourish of his hands, Sagramore closes his eyes and draws five pieces of paper, one from each jar. Then, affecting a dramatic tone, he reads, "Glacé cherries. Crusty bread. White chocolate chips. Dried oregano. Mayonnaise."<sup>1

1</sup>Thanks, Random Ingredient Generator!

[futaille]

He thinks over that list for a moment. "... That might actually be pretty good."

[sagramore]

"See! Benevolence. The spirits like thee. I think we're doing very well."

[futaille]

"The oregano is the only thing that gives me pause, but I think you can somehow make it work."

[sagramore]

"Well, they never said how much oregano I need to use."

[futaille]

"That's true! You can be discerning!"

[sagramore]

"Especially when I want to impress someone."

[futaille]

"Are you trying to impress me?"

[sagramore]

"Always."

[futaille]

"Shouldn't be too difficult. You usually do."