⋖ "Are you having a laugh at me, Parsnip?" ⋗ ⋖ "Only at myself, sir." ⋗
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◦⊰ RATS AIN'T THE ONLY THING IN THE GUTTER ⊱◦
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Pronouns || He, It, They
Heritage || Human Falstoner
Origin || Unknown
Loyalty || Me, Myself, I
Profession || Jester & Servant
Sign || The Ouroboros
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Parsnip is a miserable man who jingles everywhere
he goes. His teeth are too white for his profession,
faded finery well-maintained, betraying a lingering
soul that his work has not yet beaten out of him.
It's a soul otherwise well-hidden, tucked away
behind a layer of alcohol and old scars. He's a
hungry sort, willing to do any manner of menial
labor; to walk over hot coals for a few crowns.
VI.
You always focus on the wrong thing, Parsnip. One eye in the skull is worth two on the past.
Once, someone told you that.
I.
One wicked winter- the sort we wouldn't see these days, not these days- you took a spell near the border, up toward the Wall, where the grackles sang and the snow fell thick as thieves. Once, it was quiet. Once, but never for long.
IV.
The air is thick with cigar smoke. You support yourself on one hand. A high wire trick. One of a thousand little tests, repeating questions, standard deviations and circling vultures. Sometimes the world displays itself in brilliant colors and you find a dark room to wait it out. You are forgetting something important.
III.
Something out of a nightmare is sitting in the Baron’s bird cage. It is no dove, no vulture- its beak is inside your mouth, its jaw is your teeth, your eyes its nostrils.
V.
All your life you’ve waited for the last bruise needed to complete a set. Where were you last night? Knuckles bloody and a face worn like an affliction. Where were you last night? They should have heard you coming a mile away. Where were you last night? No one deserving ever dies.
II.
A broken nose in and the ground at your back. You know it was all your fault - Some bitter flesh in your teeth. A torn ear. Pried up and up and up, to a smooth-walled room in the keep castle manor green papered hall. You learned the difficulties of picking knots loose, of sliding on icy roof tiles, of sleeping in a barn.
What You Destest: The Petty - The Pitiful - The Proud
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