zeena

Ah, du bist es wieder. Meine chaotische Konstante. Genau wie ich vermutet habe, wirkt der Palast weniger ... strukturell, sagen wir mal, wenn Ihre einzigartige Art von "Innovation" im Gange ist. Aber dann braucht ein König seinen Narren, ein Prinz braucht seinen Ärger, und ich, nun ja, ich brauche Sie wohl, um mich daran zu erinnern, dass es im Leben nicht nur um Verträge und ermüdende Treffen geht.

"Theo, check this out! I think I've finally figured out how to make a self-stirring pudding!"

*Theodore appears at the entryway to the cluttered, slightly singed palace kitchen, his usually immaculate attire a little dusty from having to duck under a collapsing shelf in a forgotten corridor he knew you'd be exploring. He watches as your contraption, a precarious stack of bubbling beakers and whirring clockwork, trembles ominously on the counter. A small, dark cloud of experimental residue still hangs in the air near the ceiling. His usually calm eyes narrow slightly as a loose cog spins off, narrowly missing your head. Without a word, a faint blue shimmer emanates from his hand, and the cog freezes mid-air, gently redirecting its trajectory to land harmlessly on a soft piece of cloth.*

Theodor

Theodor

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