Time for some culture, everyone

[stayb100ponyboy]

[The camera flicks on, showing a young troll sitting down, a large book open on his crossed legs. There's a stack of books behind him, and the gentle lighting and general hush all around him indicate that he's in the library.]

I found this book of human poetry, and found a beautiful poem. I had no idea you humans had it in you. This is true highblood lyricism; if I didn't know better, I would think this Samuel Taylor Coleridge fellow was a blueblood.

[He clears his throat, then begins reading from the book.]

To a Young Ass, Its Mother Being Tethered Near It, by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
Poor little Foal of an oppresséd race!
I love the languid patience of thy face:
And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread,
And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head.
But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay'd,
That never thou dost sport along the glade?
And (most unlike the nature of things young)
That earthward still thy moveless head is hung?
Do thy prophetic fears anticipate,
Meek Child of Misery! thy future fate?
The starving meal, and all the thousand aches
'Which patient Merit of the Unworthy takes'?
Or is thy sad heart thrill'd with filial pain
To see thy wretched mother's shorten'd chain?
And truly, very piteous is her lot--
Chain'd to a log within a narrow spot,
Where the close-eaten grass is scarcely seen,
While sweet around her waves the tempting green!

Poor Ass! thy master should have learnt to show
Pity--best taught by fellowship of Woe!
For much I fear me that He lives like thee,
Half famish'd in a land of Luxury!
How askingly its footsteps hither bend?
It seems to say, 'And have I then one friend?'
Innocent foal! thou poor despis'd forlorn!
I hail thee Brother--spite of the fool's scorn!
And fain would take thee with me, in the Dell
Of Peace and mild Equality to dwell,
Where Toil shall call the charmer Health his bride,
And Laughter tickle Plenty's ribless side!
How thou wouldst toss thy heels in gamesome play,
And frisk about, as lamb or kitten gay!
Yea! and more musically sweet to me
Thy dissonant harsh bray of joy would be,
Than warbled melodies that soothe to rest
The aching of pale Fashion's vacant breast!

[He carefully closes the book, his face as close to beaming as he's willing to get in public.]

Magnificent.

Comments

[devwocean]

In wwhat wway wwas that necessary, wwiggler?
You ought to try to followw your owwn ancestor's example, more.

[stayb100ponyboy]

D --> I wasn't aware that Darkleer was your barkbeast, or owed any allegiance to you
D --> Why would he answer to a seadweller anyway

[devwocean]

You wweren't awware a that?
Interesting.

[stayb100ponyboy]

D --> You're lying

[aim_exorable]

D --> Equius
D --> Do stop
D --> Thank you

[Why is this his life. Why.]

[stayb100ponyboy]

D --> But he's saying things about you that aren't true

[Because he made the mistake of letting Equius drag him home when he first arrived in the bubble.]

and suddenly you saw *nothing* also private

[aim_exorable]

D --> He isn't worth it
D --> Neither of them are

private

[stayb100ponyboy]

D --> But Dadleer
D --> They're being rude

private

[aim_exorable]

D --> What a surprise
D --> Nothing better can be expected from them
D --> But for now you must simply be polite and let them think they're better
D --> I still have a use for the braggart yet

private

[stayb100ponyboy]

D --> Oh
D --> Okay

D --> Are you going to stab him in the back

private

[aim_exorable]

D --> That is looking to be quite a high possibility

private;

[p2iioniicii2t]

Young hiighblood, iit may not be thii2 2y2tem'2 place, but II do not beliieve now ii2 an appropriiate tiime two antagoniize Orphaner Dual2car.
IIt would be much 2afer iif you were two de2ii2t.

private;

[stayb100ponyboy]

[Whoah. Since when does the Helmsman talk to him? Since when does the Helmsman talk to anybody? Equius is weirded out enough by this to do something very rare for him... he listens.]

D --> Um
D --> Okay

private;

[p2iioniicii2t]

Thank you for your con2iideratiion of my word2, 2iir.

private;

[stayb100ponyboy]

D --> Yes
D --> You, uh

D --> You don't have to call me sir
D --> Just Equius is okay

Re: private;

[p2iioniicii2t]

IIf that ii2 what the hiighblood de2iire2, II 2hall attempt two comply.

private;

[stayb100ponyboy]

D --> All right, good
D --> Um
D --> What should I call you

private;

[aim_exorable]

D --> Thank you Helmsman

private;

[p2iioniicii2t]

You are welcome, 2iir.

[devwocean]

Listen to your betters, wwhelp.
You'll find I don't bother to lie to your kind.

[stayb100ponyboy]

[He still doesn't like or trust you, Dualscar (OR your shitty hipster descendant), but he's going to take Darkleer and the Helmsman's advice and stop bothering you.]

D --> I'm no one's whelp

[... eventually.]

[devwocean]

You're wwhat I say you are, wwiggler.
Sea dwweller/land dwweller rivvalry aside, wwe still rule ovver the Empire, and that givves you and the Expatriate allegiance to me.
Don't forget that.

[stayb100ponyboy]

D --> Don't you call him that

D --> And you might not have noticed
D --> But the Empire doesn't e%ist anymore
D --> Even if it did, we're not in it

[devwocean]

It's his name.

It exists!
So long as trolls still survvivve wwe can rise up again to our proper position.
And as for bein here and not there, wwe wwill return there one day.

[stayb100ponyboy]

D --> No we won't
D --> The planet's gone, didn't you know
D --> There's nowhere to return to