ORIGIN

I wonder what Menkheperre's life is like, on an average cave-Tuesday in the cave-nerd dome known as the Palace library. Is he eating well? Sleeping well? Having something nice and warm to drink? Some kind of humble breakfast, like Hellswan eggs on gourmet toast, Nedies special style? Or perhaps it's more of a breakfast for dinner, as he stays up late for a midnight study, pouring over his beloved books and satchels and dreaded, vexing, useless—and flimsy, might I add!—pieces of paper— and whatever else cave nerds are into? The light low, perhaps soothingly dim... the quiet shuffling of pages between his dexterous fingers... the scent of knowledge filling his mind practically through his lungs. I wonder what it's like.

I wonder what it's like for him when he hears a loud impact against the Palace doors. Like the grand front entrance doors have been swung open wide by some meteor, then allowed to slam shut while the heaping mass of rock continued to trundle on inside. Like the place is some gosh darn saloon in a spaghetti Western. As a fuzzy blue mammoth of a man thumps his way into the main entrance room of the Palace, shooing away the persistent, cute, scuttling butler with a casual disdain. I wonder what Menkheperre thinks, what runs through his mind first, when he overhears a familiar drawl, asking what is most likely the nearest figure of authority: "I'm looking for a tall, stupid noodle. AHEM—smart—smart noodle. I think that's its—his? whole thing. Being smart and all. Need his h... hhhhh...."

If Menkheperre doesn't come out soon, he's going to miss that last word.

@Menkheperre