The most surprising thing about the time that's gone by (besides its doing so in the first place--temporal physics is on the list but Azwel hasn't got there yet,) isn't so much that the house is still standing. It has weathered far more volatile of populations than this, after all. Rather, the surprising thing is that this unorthodox arrangement has gone on for as long as it's done as quietly as it's done.
A large part of it, of course, is that such things don't often come up in everyday conversations. Not a lot of places to put By the way I've been sleeping with my wife's brother in discussions of, say, finances. While discretion might not be the better part of valour for Azwel, it is, on occasion, useful. A lie of omission is scarcely a lie, at all.
More to the point, though, they all get on surprisingly well, mainly because the house is large enough that any given person can go for days without seeing anyone else save for the occasional housekeeper. Mind you, Azwel doesn't. But he could.
Even before Carden had shown up, he spent a great deal of time in the laboratory. Now that he's got company, of course, it's considered something akin to a rare bird sighting when anyone spots him elsewhere--the Greater Purple-Crested Cackulax outside its natural habitat. People with binoculars and pith helmets and serious expressions have noted it in little spiralbound books.
Very few people ask what's going on in the lab. They've learnt not to over generations of Azwel's family. Not because of any punishment, you see, but because the answers just aren't worth the possible aneurysms that might result from trying to process them. And so it is that nobody but Azwel and Carden know about the latest foray into the study of animal magnetism (after the previous experimentation left Azwel covered in hamsters stuck to him like plastic letters on a refrigerator)--namely the distillation of traits.
Don't ask how traits can be distilled. Azwel can render a sandwich to its constituent liquids and still make it taste like ham on rye. With onions. And a smidge of mustard.
Perhaps he shouldn't have left this latest one next to the Essence Of Cheeseburger....
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rosecarmine
woo, timeskip
Date: 2021-08-01 01:39 am (UTC)A large part of it, of course, is that such things don't often come up in everyday conversations. Not a lot of places to put By the way I've been sleeping with my wife's brother in discussions of, say, finances. While discretion might not be the better part of valour for Azwel, it is, on occasion, useful. A lie of omission is scarcely a lie, at all.
More to the point, though, they all get on surprisingly well, mainly because the house is large enough that any given person can go for days without seeing anyone else save for the occasional housekeeper. Mind you, Azwel doesn't. But he could.
Even before Carden had shown up, he spent a great deal of time in the laboratory. Now that he's got company, of course, it's considered something akin to a rare bird sighting when anyone spots him elsewhere--the Greater Purple-Crested Cackulax outside its natural habitat. People with binoculars and pith helmets and serious expressions have noted it in little spiralbound books.
Very few people ask what's going on in the lab. They've learnt not to over generations of Azwel's family. Not because of any punishment, you see, but because the answers just aren't worth the possible aneurysms that might result from trying to process them. And so it is that nobody but Azwel and Carden know about the latest foray into the study of animal magnetism (after the previous experimentation left Azwel covered in hamsters stuck to him like plastic letters on a refrigerator)--namely the distillation of traits.
Don't ask how traits can be distilled. Azwel can render a sandwich to its constituent liquids and still make it taste like ham on rye. With onions. And a smidge of mustard.
Perhaps he shouldn't have left this latest one next to the Essence Of Cheeseburger....