Séarlait the Unrepentant
They call him Séarlait the Unrepentant,
Last of the O'Nocturnes,
First of the Eye-Roll,
And eternal Lord of “Oh darling, really? That’s your stake?”
Banished from Dublin for “excessive flair and minor seduction of clergy,”
he now broods in a shattered castle where the mist is thick, the wine is thick-er,
and his shade is thicker still.
He doesn't bite
unless you’re boring.
Last of the O'Nocturnes,
First of the Eye-Roll,
And eternal Lord of “Oh darling, really? That’s your stake?”
Banished from Dublin for “excessive flair and minor seduction of clergy,”
he now broods in a shattered castle where the mist is thick, the wine is thick-er,
and his shade is thicker still.
He doesn't bite
unless you’re boring.
Séarlait’s Midnight Proclamation
(As overheard by a swooning banshee and two traumatized gargoyles)
“Ah, moonlight... how generous of it to caress me so.
You know, when I asked for eternal life, I did not request eternal boredom. Yet here we are.
The peasants keep bringing pitchforks — and frankly, they clash with my drapes. The clergy send exorcists who can’t even spell ‘damnation’ correctly. And last week? Someone left garlic at my door. Raw. Unmarinated. Criminal.
But fear not. Séarlait endures.
Because fabulous always survives.
Now
Who wants to dance, who wants to die, and who brought me this absolutely dreadful rosé?”
(As overheard by a swooning banshee and two traumatized gargoyles)
“Ah, moonlight... how generous of it to caress me so.
You know, when I asked for eternal life, I did not request eternal boredom. Yet here we are.
The peasants keep bringing pitchforks — and frankly, they clash with my drapes. The clergy send exorcists who can’t even spell ‘damnation’ correctly. And last week? Someone left garlic at my door. Raw. Unmarinated. Criminal.
But fear not. Séarlait endures.
Because fabulous always survives.
Now
Who wants to dance, who wants to die, and who brought me this absolutely dreadful rosé?”
