I was chatting to my housemates yesterday about my
excursion to The Comedy About Spies with Tem. (The play's run ends today, which is probably for the best; I cannot keep buying tickets. Getting into Mischief Theatre fandom was a terrible idea. It's a financial nightmare.)
Riona: Rei, if I ever bring you to a Mischief production, and we end up at the stage door, you cannot embarrass me in front of Henry Lewis. That's my one hard rule.
Rei: Oh, that's not reasonable. What if I unintentionally embarrass you? I mean, you
have met me.
Riona: If you unintentionally embarrass me, I will understand that it was an accident.
Rei: What if I facilitate you embarrassing yourself?
Riona: You see, this is exactly why I brought Tem instead.
Tem: I had to try so hard not to call him 'hot hot Henry Lewis' to his face.
In other news, Tem and I have been playing
Assassin's Creed: Syndicate together, the
Assassin's Creed set in Victorian London! I've played it before, but this is Tem's first experience of an
Assassin's Creed game.
Riona: The Assassins are the good guys.
Tem: I feel they could have come up with a friendlier name.
Riona: Well, they're not called the PR Guys.
Tem is increasingly furious about a) the unnecessary modern-day framing device and b) Evie's outfit, decidedly inappropriate for a woman attempting to go unnoticed in Victorian London. I'm really enjoying xyr ranting.
Tem: (with great feeling) She's not wearing a hat! She's wearing skintight trousers! In Victorian London! When you make your Dreamwidth post, Riona, I want you to tell the people that this woman should have been arrested. Not that I don't agree with it morally, but,
historically accurately, this woman should be doing hard labour.
(Playing as Evie, I notice a hatless man on the street and start pushing him around.)Riona: Hey, sir, where's your hat? Hey, sir. Where's your hat? Hey. Hey. Hey.
Tem: You're one to talk.
Riona: Hold on a moment.
(I switch characters to Jacob, who is wearing a hat, and resume pushing the pedestrian around.)Riona: Where's your hat, sir? Hey. Hey, where's your hat?
Tem enthusiastically encouraged me to break into Buckingham Palace, which, perhaps predictably, resulted in me lying on the floor of the palace, being beaten to death by guards.
Tem started mimicking the voices of the Cockney street children in the game, which gradually developed into creating the character of Nigel, a Victorian ghost orphan with an increasingly elaborate backstory, whose job it is to create all the piles of leaves the Frye twins keep jumping into. (It's a hard job; the game features leaf piles even in places that are strikingly short on trees, e.g. Trafalgar Square and the roof of St Paul's Cathedral, and it doesn't appear to be set in autumn.) Nigel provides frequent and deeply tragic commentary as I play. I'm very concerned about this Victorian ghost child.
Occasionally, Tem-as-Nigel speaks about Tem, using she/her pronouns; Tem goes by xe/xem.
Riona: I notice that Nigel misgenders you. That's attention to detail.
Tem: He doesn't mean anything by it; he just doesn't understand. I'm not explaining neopronouns to a Victorian orphan ghost.
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rionaleonhart
