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Post by Landis de Verreuil on Feb 27, 2011 14:24:29 GMT -5
It had been some time since I'd been to the Night Court, at least since the summer of the last year, and it seemed like it may have been time to drop by again. I was far from extravagantly wealthy but I also tended to spend almost nothing when I was at my estate and that left me enough to spend on such forays when I came into the City.
Last year I'd spent the most time at Eglantine but it seemed like it was time for a change, so I made my way to Camellia, led more by instinct and a sort of informed curiosity more than anything. I wasn't a perfect person but the idea of people who were trained to be perfect was intriguing though and so I made my way into the salon. Everything was beautiful, elegant and graceful, as were the adepts, and I sat down to watch them and see what would happen.
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Post by Inès nó Camellia on Feb 27, 2011 19:29:18 GMT -5
The Salon hummed with gentle conversation. It comforting to me, listening to this golden hum with an ear trained. Other Adepts have made sure that our visitors are well in hand. I only arrived just a few minutes prior, and the deep berry purple gown I had chosen for the night rippled sinuously around my form.
Another adept waved to me, she whispering something sweet into the noblewoman's ear. The glimmer in her eye agreed to what was whispered. It was then, that another entered into the Salon. It was as though the winds themselves brought him to the Salon. He walked not with the purpose that had marked others. At least, from what I could glean from those small moments.
I moved towards him. Moved, however, is a terribly banal word for what it truly was. Each sinuous movement, slow and deliberate yet still ethereal and even a little vague. I worked at such, in private, while I trained with my House. I remember that I walked along the Garden paths, with the Trois Milles Joies open in my hands while figuring of the motions of which I would walk.
"My Lord?" I asked, offered in a way, delicate fingers opening, "Be welcome within our House. Would you care for refreshment?" My gown puddling at my feet
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Post by Landis de Verreuil on Mar 1, 2011 11:29:15 GMT -5
The entire atmosphere of this House was clean lines, elegance and smoothly sensual grace and I let the scene move past my vision unimpeded. As I watched more I noticed the small flourishes that all of the adepts seemed inclined to, the almost-show they put on for those around them as well as the patron or guest they were entertaining. It almost made one wonder whether there was any sense of privacy within these walls, or quiet, but I had a feeling that the sheer complexity of the surroundings masked simpler moments of sincerity. Everyone had a core of their true self, even if the mask they wore was thick.
A woman in a richly colored gown that reminded me of the berry pie that I'd eaten as a child in the summer months came closer with the sort of walk that nearly oozed poise and I gave her a warm smile in return for her question. She was younger, but pretty and sweet, and it seemed that she was as self-possessed as any of the older adepts present. Perhaps that was a key to understanding Camellia, that air of constant awareness to every action. "Good evening," I replied to her greeting. "Thank you for the welcome. As for refreshment, I think a glass of wine would be wonderful."
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Post by Inès nó Camellia on Mar 1, 2011 12:46:45 GMT -5
A smile played across my lips. "Of course, My Lord." Everyone came to Mon Nuit for different reasons. They came to hold a bit of perfection in their hands. They came to escape their worries. To laid their worries at the foot of the bed. To pray to Blessed Naamah, and in so doing find her guidance in a climax. Mayhaps, even, they came to try to pierce the mask we all wear. Even I was not exempt from the myriad of reasons that colored my stay upon the Mount.
I slipped away from him and found a Namarrese blush. The blushing pink liquid swirling into a glass of wine, always reminded me of the pink of the flowers of the Camellia Marque. I took my time, allowing the liquid to air-ate properly; the bouquet of it tickling my nose. Each movement taken was deliberate and smooth - I knew above all else, that there would be eyes upon me. I returned and offered the glass of wine, "A Namarrese blush, My Lord." I regarded him, through a fringe of golden lashes, with interest.
"I am Inès nó Camellia" I introduced myself to him with a voice silver'd and lilting, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." His smile was limed in warmth, a warmth I returned of a surety. "I hope we find you well, indeed."
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Post by Landis de Verreuil on Mar 4, 2011 17:55:09 GMT -5
As the girl walked away to where the wine was arranged I smiled, then gave another glance around at the various adepts and their potential patrons, then when the girl returned I gave her a warm smile and took the glass she offered. "It's nice to meet you, Ines," I replied in a warm tone, letting the wine settle for a moment before I took a sip. "Thank you for the wonderful wine, it's very nice. I'm Landis de Verreuil, and I'm lucky that such a lovely young lady has noticed me."
The entire room seemed filled with a light sort of sensuality and I set my glass down on the table next to me. "How are you faring today? It seems as though your House is very busy this evening, I hope I'm not keeping you from something more pressing." My eyes sparkled a bit in sincerity and I wondered what exactly could be in her mind behind all of the perfectly graceful motions she made and the silky sweetness of her voice. Camellia wasn't a House that I was used to but it seemed disingenuous to do anything but be my usual, charming self.
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Post by Inès nó Camellia on Mar 4, 2011 21:51:29 GMT -5
I let my own fingers brush against his own. Those little touches between people, sparks created, seeds of relationships created. My eyes traveled from the flute of wine, where our fingers touched and settled into his own. It's those moments. Those quiet moments, where I always knew without a doubt. My smile warmed then, he was charming and strikingly handsome. His own eyes reminding me of the color of storm clouds in the summer. The thought of if he harbored a storm within his breast, to match his eyes, blossomed in my own mind. "It is my pleasure, My lord," I responded to his compliment on the wine. Then it is a laugh that blossomed, "I believe, mayhaps, that I may be the Lucky One tonight, My Lord."
I leaned just a touch closer, mayhaps imperceptibly so. The scent, my scent, of Camilla blossoms clung tightly to me. The barest whiff, could touch the outside of his senses. A silent invitation to come closer should he wish, to become aware of the scent. To breath it in as surely as they breathed in the warmth and the light sensuality of the Salon. "Nothing weighs upon my time," I replied with all due earnest, "I dare say, My Lord, that you've rescued me from a dastardly enemy," a pause, pregnant even as a slightly impish smile blossomed for just a moment, "boredom."
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Post by Landis de Verreuil on Mar 6, 2011 16:03:48 GMT -5
There was certainly a kind of elegance to the way she spoke, as though Ines was keeping in mind that a poet may one day immortalize her words. I wasn't much of a poet myself but I was a reader and I could see how just such a person would be drawn into her words, and couldn't really deny that she had the ability to make almost anyone heed what she said. Perhaps that was a skill of Camellia or just something about Ines herself but it certainly had a sort of allure.
"So I've managed to make myself useful," I replied in a slightly lower time, my smile still in place as she leaned a bit closer and I met her gaze. She smelled of something floral and soft, but in all honesty I was more intrigued by her words and manner. "Though I imagine that someone like you would be able to gather any attention she'd like to keep her from tedium so I'm still lucky to be the one singled out as worthy." Her eyes really were quite startling and I held her gaze for a moment before I took another sip of wine.
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Post by Inès nó Camellia on Mar 6, 2011 16:29:30 GMT -5
I could not deny his manner. An easy charm that I willingly allowed myself to be taken in by. It was different. So many nobles and their own affectations; it made them high-strung quite a lot of the time. It put me a little more at ease, and I dare say it showed in my smile. I met his gaze, the world melting away beyond us. The pleasing hum of conversation, of glass clinking and every other person faded to a place far away; leaving just the pair of us.
I canted my head towards him at his words, "Surely, you must not have come to Camellia House to be useful." A gentle playfulness limed my tone, matching his lower volume. "Though, I thank you for your words," I accepted his compliment without restraint and I welcomed his words. But, I did not survive upon such words. "But, the question arises..." I said, returning to the previous though in that same lowered conversation, "What brings you to Camellia this evening, My Lord? Was it Luck? Or, mayhaps, fated?"
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Post by Landis de Verreuil on Mar 14, 2011 17:22:47 GMT -5
She did have a certain way about her, one of carefully controlled grace and sensuality, but that only made me curious how much of it was sincere and how much the show she put on for the sake of her own appearances. She was beautiful and graceful and seemed intelligent, so was it art that kept her so motivated to do well by her canon? Perhaps that was the difference between the House-placed Servants of Namaah and the rest of us, their dedication to the ideal they upheld.
"Generally I do prefer being useful, and I don't know that I believe in fate as much as coincidence and happenstance," I replied in my usual steady, pleasant tone as I watched her, listening closely to her own words. "I suppose what brought me though was curiosity, to see what could lie within a House known for cultivating perfection, where 'good enough' isn't the highest a person dares to reach."
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Post by Inès nó Camellia on Mar 14, 2011 23:19:05 GMT -5
His voice was pleasant and it resonated in my ears. I enjoyed it, in truth. A Pleasantness and touched with mirth that only hinted at it. I wondered if he was just as guarded as I was. First meetings are always like this. Coming to Camellia was a little more complicated than Nobles who went to others. To experience a bit of perfection, perhaps. Some others believe that we are already perfect. But, betimes it is the pursuit of that perfect crystal moment, that I believe lies just beneath the surface.
I wondered what thought brought Landis here.
There is always something just beneath the surface.
"Seeing, My Lord," Looking upon Landis watching him as surely as he watched me, "is not quite the same as experiencing. Simply seeing, denies the other senses of understanding our Canon." Words that were for him alone even as he he watched me.
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Post by Landis de Verreuil on Mar 16, 2011 10:12:59 GMT -5
There was a glimmer of intelligent thoughtfulness in Ines' eyes as she answered me and I considered them carefully, letting the words sink in as well as their possible meanings. There was a lot in that simple statement that could be gleaned, but that didn't always mean that was what she intended to be heard from them. Most of the things a person heard in the speech of others was colored by their own experiences and views on the world almost more than the meaning that was actually intended. I tried to avoid that circumstance though and took her words at face value.
Smiling slightly I cocked my head a bit and rested my chin in my hand, not shying away from her gaze at all. She had as much right to look at me as I did to look at her. "So you believe then that perfection is a collection of traits, rather than every trait viewed in its own light, the whole picture being greater than the sum of its parts," I replied in a conversational tone. "I would actually have to agree on that fact, but being human and fallible we can only know what we sense for ourselves."
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Post by Inès nó Camellia on Mar 16, 2011 16:51:44 GMT -5
I flickered my gaze away, it was an unconscious thought. An unconscious motion that was very nearly coy. A little bit of a coquettish notion. My eyes returned, looking at Landis through a fringe of gold. I caught his smile, that slight cock of his head. The way he rested his chin in his hand. He was roguish. But, it did not seem without purpose. It wasn't roguishness without a purpose.
"There's something multifaceted about it," I replied, answering in agreement. Gesturing towards his wine while allowing myself to see him. "Take the wine, for instance. Beautiful in it's color. But take into account the way the bubbles fizzle upon the tongue. How they burst in the ear. How the liquid dances down the throat." I smiled a little, a ghostly wan like thing not meant for anything but at the analogy that I drew before him. "It all coalesces into a perfect something. Each facet lovely, but together extraordinary..."
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Post by Landis de Verreuil on Mar 21, 2011 16:02:34 GMT -5
She was letting herself sink a little more fully into her sensuality with her coy gaze and I could see that she was warming up a bit, the conversation bringing out another side to her personality that had been merely hinted at before. That had a way of making me feel more comfortable, as though she weren't merely acting out some script where only certain facets of the interaction had any sort of adaptability. I liked the fact that she seemed to be opening up.
"But then wouldn't the possible flaw of that be in something perfect being only as strong as its weakest link?" I asked interestedly, my eyes flashing a bit and my smile widening to encourage her to follow her train of thought. "If a person didn't like any one aspect the entire thing would fail even if the rest of the parts were what they preferred. Luckily people aren't like wine, and they can be seen as having merits and flaws, and the perfection can come from the interplay of them. There is nothing as complex as humanity, and nothing with a greater chance for perfection."
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Post by Inès nó Camellia on Mar 21, 2011 16:33:58 GMT -5
"Should a single aspect of the Wine not live up, then that moment. That singularly perfect and rare moment would not be. However, nothing is as perfect, or as striking, as complex, as a person," My reply was thoughtful into his train of thought. I allowed him to lead him on this train of thought. The House's canon was simple; like so many others: 'Without Fault or Flaw.' I ruminated over his words. No doubt, I held his interested gaze with one of my own.
I dragged a finger down from beneath my ear, idly down the slim column of my neck. Thinking how best to respond in this dance between two. "But, I wonder..." I purred turning another glance towards Landis. "Where that leaves our House? At least," in that same breath, without knowing it did my finger touch my bottom lip, "in this analogy." An honest question, for we who chase after the perfection displayed by Blessed Naamah. A perfection that rendered the King of Persis blind.
My gaze flashed interestingly upon Landis, my own King of Persis. At least, for the evening.
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Post by Landis de Verreuil on Mar 27, 2011 10:13:19 GMT -5
She knew every motion, every way to call attention to her best features, from her smooth skin to the cadence of her voice, and even though I knew that it was all a show there was still something lovely about it. Not the way that Cereus was beautiful because that grace would be fleeting, but because it spoke to something intrinsic and showed the effort that she took to please the eye as well as the other senses. It was foreign to my nature, as I was somewhat more of an easygoing person; nevertheless it was effective. A person can know a magic trick is nothing but sleight of hand but still be amazed at the skill it took to make the trick happen.
"I would say that it would be up to the Servant and the House to decide which aspect of perfection they chased because not all patrons have the same understanding of it," I said after a moment of thought, my smile never leaving my face as I watched her in quiet appreciation, the way one might a piece of art. "Some want to see a perfect moment, others to feel it, and others to appreciate what really makes something worth being seen as 'without flaw'. But perhaps I should ask that question of you, since you're the one who has dedicated her life to the concept, making you the expert. How do you see perfection?"
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Post by Inès nó Camellia on Mar 29, 2011 21:17:16 GMT -5
"To give words to the notion of perfection, would be to render that notion banal." I said having given it a few moments thought, "What I view as perfection is an intangible something; that to even try to describe with words escapes me." What is perfect? Do you admit that it is hard to come across? Impossible to speak of? Is the very notion of perfection outside of the realm of thought?
"Words, the Realm of Thought, perhaps is ill-equipped to show what is my notion of perfection." Every curve. The tremble of a finger. The spark of a kiss. The sigh and moan of a person. A perfect moment punctuated by every thought and gesture that comes oh so naturally. "Mayhaps, then, it is up to the Realm of the Senses to show my ideals. I see it, I feel it, I hear it and I taste it. I know that gesture, that piece of art, the curve of a neck, a thought is perfect."
I paused a moment, before adding "But, I also know that such moments of perfection are fleeting. That something, someone, some moment 'perfect' is rare and scarce. Perhaps, that is why we both are here. To dive into the darkness of the sea and to find within it's depths a diamond that blinds and illuminates the world around us."
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