lilac_eyed_lieutenant | Tisarwat's Voicemail.

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Tisarwat's Voicemail.

"This is voice message inbox for Lieutenant Tisarwat. Please leave your message, and I will hopefully be able to retrieve it, but this technology seems incredibly archaic, I just hope it works."

**BEEP**

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"To whom, she asks." Summer didn't bother holding that snort back, and she almost wished she'd facetimed this so that Seivarden could see her eyeroll, but she also sort of figured that Seivarden would know it was there. "To whom do you think? And believe me. I was definitely a bridezilla at my wedding, but not in the way you're thinking."

There had been way, way more blood and guts and massacre-ing and feasting on the flesh of her enemies than you typically see on TLC. But, then again, she and Hemmorhage really didn't want to go a traditional route anyway.

"Seriously, though, why are you asking about weddings?"

"You're married?!" Seivarden asked, before even bothering to answer the other question. "Doesn't that mean you're not supposed to have sex with others?"

Maybe Tisarwat should be aware of that.

Well, if she should be, then she definitely was aware now!

"Was married," Summer corrected. "Like, a million years ago." Three. It had been three years ago, and there was actually quite a bit of technical...grey space...in this claim, but it's not like it would ever matter because that was a whole different dimension and didn't really count anyway, right? "And, trust me, if anyone married did want to have sex with others, they're probably not going to let some marriage certificate and structuralized ideas of what one is supposed to do in regards to an honestly outdated ritual that was based mostly around the idea that women were little more than property and baby makers stop them, anyway."

"That's the thing! I've been told it's about forcing women to breed babies and then suddenly it's about romance!"

It really was incomprehensible.

"Why did you get married anyway?"

Summer sighed a little, because, hoo boy, this was going to be a whole thing. This had been a whole thing that once lead to her telling a student not too long ago (a student who had completely disappeared not long after that, but whatever, that wasn't troublesome at all or anything!) that nothing really mattered because we all died, anyway, so she might as well just kick back and get comfortable before going into it.

Luckily, she had a nice comfy Radchaai pillow to help with that.

Well, not that comfy. Tisarwat, you lanky af.

"The idea of it is, like, totally seeped in romance," Summer offered, "but it wasn't always. It was, honestly, sort of a business transaction for a really long time until people started to put more value in the idea of romantic love over practical marriage. And that's when the idea of a marriage became less about building your family and empire and lineage and more about spending the rest of your life attached to someone you love more than anything else in the whole wide world. And that, I totally kind of get, because weddings these days are basically just a big giant party where you declare how much you're into this other person, and a lot of people are more blinded by that aspect of it like it's some sort of acheivement without really thinking about everything else that goes with it. Don't get me wrong, there are totally people out there who can pull it off, because they genuinely do love the other person and want to dedicate themselves to being essentially BFFs together forever but more, but, statistically, they're way in the minority, and that's why divorce exists, because people fucking make mistakes, but even then, you have people like my parents who only got married because I came along and spent the last twenty years being absolutely miserable with each other and even when they did get divorced, they just went right back to each other because they're....I don't know, weak or something, or they just can't let go of idea that if they fail in marriage, they fail at life, because that's how pervasive it is in our culture.

"Like," she said, remembering that she could take breaths, "if you find that super confusing and that it doesn't make a lot of sense, congratulations, that's about as far as most people understand it, you just have the benefit of not having these ideals basically ingrained in your brain since the moment you were born. It's like..."

Maybe Summer just thought of this metaphor because of a certain hand brushing down her arm just then.

"You guys and gloves. Your culture has always said that you need to wear gloves, and so you wear gloves. And a lot of our cultures say you need to get married, and so people do. It's just marriages are way more complicated than putting on a pair of gloves. But it's nice to think that someday you might find one that's, you know, the perfect fit..."

There was a long pause.

"That was actually the best explanation I've heard so far. Apart from the bit about gloves, that made no sense."

"Tisarwat," said Summer, "confirm that there is no possible way I could roll my eyes any harder."

There was a laugh. "Those were rolled pretty hard," Tisarwat allowed.

"So apparently my metaphors are bad," because it hadn't been thr first criticism she'd received about them recently, "but you still got the point. And, I mean, I did teach a course on this last session, I kinda maaaybe have some perspective on it. You still haven't said why you're randomly texting people," well, Tisarwat, but Summer kind of took the reins and didn't bother letting go, "about it in the first place, though. Unless...."

"A potential customer got upset and hung up on me," Seivarden said. "What did you think?"

"You?" said Summer, the sarcasm extra thick as if to make up for the fact that this wasn't a face-to-face conversation. "Upsetting someone? With what I assume was unsolicited comments on societal nuances that you don't understand or comprehend? Shocker."

"How should I have known? Lucifer said something about shot gun weddings," Seivarden said, a bit defensively.

There was...a pause. Maybe some mild shifting. The sound of a suppressed laugh, probably not from Summer, and then a soft thwump sound like a swing pillow, then a nearly audible grin.

"Yeah, well," Summer finally said, "if Lucifer told you about how some cultures eat dogs, would you go up to anyone who had a puppy and ask what sort of preparation they preferred? General word of advice. You're the florist. The only thing you need to know about the wedding is what they want, what their budget is, where they should be delivered and when and what time."

"People usually arrange these things well in advance," Seivarden said. "They wanted the flowers this afternoon. I had to at least know what kind of ceremony they were planning in order to make a good choice."

Yes, she had heard that muffled laugh.

Well, excuuuse their cuteness over here.

"Are shotgun wedding flowers inherently different from regular wedding flowers?" asked Summer. "Or how about try this." She cleared her throat, adopting some variation on Seivarden's accent that was not helping with the whole not-laughing thing on this side of the phone. "Oh, flowers by this afternoon? Certainly. What sort of arrangements did you have in mind? Aatr's tits! Hold on a moment! I just spilled my tea.'

Nailed it.

"That's hilarious."

That was sarcasm, Summer, not admitting you were right.

"Clearly you're not of any help, so I'll leave you two to go back to whatever you were doing."

This, coming from the person admitting that she'd still provided a better explanation than anyone so far?

Suuuuuure.

Could Seivarden also hear her smugness?

"Glad to not be of any help," Summer sang. "If you need anymore not-help, Seivarden, you know where to find me."

Through Tisarwat's phone, apparently.

"Bye, Summer," Seivarden said and hung up.

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