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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 28, 2008 19:57:47 GMT -5
"I was thinking prancing, but that works too," I replied with a grin. "Do you want to continue, or shall we play another game?"
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 28, 2008 20:02:45 GMT -5
"Whichever you would like, though I must warn you my mind is working slowly today," I apologized with a small smile. "I suppose the talk of politics and worries earlier has me centered on different things than language. Still, I will warm up to it, should we continue."
In all I was a bit disappointed in myself for not thinking more quickly of the answers- but I was out of practice and had been working at drawing a great deal more lately rather than reading. "Or perhaps I just need to drink more so I don't think so much about the answers and I trust my instincts," I added with a light laugh.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 28, 2008 20:12:15 GMT -5
I laughed with her, feeling the need for this kind of light hearted banter. “Tell you what, Lessa,” I said with a smile. “We’ll change the game to one that is funnier, and less stressing. How about this one – we’ll morph ourselves to bards, and work together. You start a rhyme, and I will complete it. Roles reverse at the end of the quatrain.”
Joining action to my words, I looked at her glass. “If you are so inclined, I promise you I will be perfectly gentlemanly,” I said with a smile. “Trust your instincts.”
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 28, 2008 20:28:10 GMT -5
"I've never been one for drinking a great deal," I confessed with a flush. "Truly, I've never even come close to being intoxicated, for I always worry that I'll embarrass myself in every moment, especially in public." Still, as he'd been so kind to suggest it and I didn't want to make him think I mistrusted him I poured another glass and took a sip.
"As to your game- I think I could manage," I told him sincerely. "What meter and scheme shall we use?"
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 28, 2008 20:45:33 GMT -5
I didn’t tell Lessa that I had, on occasion, allowed myself to get drunk to forget my pain, at times – perhaps she’d take poorly to it, and it wasn’t my brightest accomplishment anyway. “You won’t embarrass yourself, and I will stay sober for us both,” I said with a reassuring grin. It was true – I would. Besides, my liver, in truth, could use the rest.
Returning to the plans at hand, I made a suggestions. “Would you like to do it in Iskandria’s style?” I offered. “Twelve syllables a verse, and a traditional sonnet form?”
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 28, 2008 20:49:38 GMT -5
"There are many rhyming styles for sonnets," I replied as I thought about which one he could be referring to.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 28, 2008 20:57:21 GMT -5
“Hmm…” I said, “I like the traditional, primary form, that would be a-b-a-b, a-b-a-b for the two quatrains, c-d-e-c-d-e for the sestet.” I grinned, and said, “Will that suit ?”
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 29, 2008 11:09:57 GMT -5
For a moment I organized my thoughts- by that pattern, at the beginning, each person would be responsible for their own rhymes quatrains, then switching at the end. "It should work," I replied. "Should we pick a topic first, or let one develop on its own?"
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 29, 2008 11:46:48 GMT -5
“As you wish,” I replied with a smile. “I suggested the game and the rhyme scheme, you select the topic, or lack thereof, according to your fancy.”
I couldn’t help but grin a bit wider for it, because I was enjoying myself, and happy to see Lessa finding an interested in the game. It was light, true enough, but it would probably do both of us some good.
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 29, 2008 12:02:33 GMT -5
"Traditionally, sonnets are always about love, in some form or fashion," I said thoughtfully. "But that doesn't mean a playful, merry one has to be. Personally, I think the ability to follow one another's lines without a set theme would be more proof of skill, would it not?"
Absently I took another sip of my wine, feeling the warmth of it move through my belly.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 29, 2008 12:06:29 GMT -5
“Yes, it would be,” I said with a smile. I took my glass, and lifted it in a salute to my companion. “I drink to your skill and to my defeat,” I jested.
With that, I took a careful sip, for I’d promised Lessa I’d be a gentleman, and intended to keep my word.
“If you will do the honors, then?”
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 29, 2008 12:10:33 GMT -5
"If you wish," I replied with a smile, thinking on his toast and that I would probably be defeated. "I promise I won't even end any lines with 'orange' or 'purple' in the sextet."
Pondering the first line I lightly bit my lower lip as I thought, leaning a bit closer to the table though long habit kept me from placing my elbows or wrists on it. "The flight of birds and growth of flowers calls the soul," I began, accenting the second syllable in the iambic style.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 29, 2008 12:25:59 GMT -5
I couldn’t help but be amused. Orange or purple would make indeed terrible rhymes, and I gave her a playful bow of thanks.
The flight of birds and growth of flowers calls the soul.
I thought a moment, smiling at the ways she’d put thought into it – her verse was pretty and poetic… but then again, for one who held it in her soul, it was a small wonder.
“To tender dreams and playful whims when spring thus comes.” I offered with an easy smile.
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 29, 2008 12:30:19 GMT -5
Not only was this a game of verse and sound, but of memory; luckily, in that sense, I was quite well equipped, and had been taught memory tricks since I was old enough to begin classes. The rhythm of the sonnet would help as well. "And every creature plays its past-life given roles," I continued after another few moments of thought, where I ran the two previous lines through my head and concentrated on what fit the pattern and came next in the poetic sense.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 29, 2008 12:39:57 GMT -5
Thankfully, we were closing the first quatrain, and I was pleased to have remembered to use an even sound to close the rhyme. I took a moment to think on it. Lessa’s verse dictacted predestination, and so I continued in that vein, adding the concept of destiny to that of karma which she had so well intertwined in the verse.
I had to think – I had one too many syllables, and so what was originally and traces became tracing, nipping in the bud the potential mistake.
“Until destiny’s path unwinds, tracing through their homes.”
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 29, 2008 15:36:56 GMT -5
"At which time each knowing spirit, in it's whole," I continued, beginning to get the hang of this and relaxing into the rhyme more easily and taking another drink.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 29, 2008 16:04:29 GMT -5
"Finds their path unset, til anew it becomes," I offered, letting her complete my sentence. We were making a good team, that was true.
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 29, 2008 16:09:29 GMT -5
For a moment I thought, then my eyes widened and I laughed behind my hand. "That, my lord, is only nine syllables," I pointed out delicately, though my eyes were filled with merriment.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 29, 2008 16:12:16 GMT -5
I counted on my fingers, feeling like an idiot. "Actually, that's eleven, but you're still correct, I'm missing one." I frowned, though I was amused for her own mirth. "How's that, Finds their path unset, until anew it becomes ?"
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 29, 2008 16:15:09 GMT -5
Smiling still I shook my head. "Nine or eleven, it's still short," I protested gently and in good humor. "Finds-their-path-un-set-un-til-a-new-it-be-comes. Now it's twelve though." Winking with a bit of mirth I pushed my hair behind my ears.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 29, 2008 16:20:27 GMT -5
"Yes, still short, and you owe me a verse," I replied with a wider grin. I was thoroughly amused - in fact, I hadn't felt so well in a while, and I looked at Lessa with renewed affection. She was letting go, too, and that was charming and pleasing to see both.
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 29, 2008 16:28:54 GMT -5
My skin was beginning to flush again and I resisted the urge to put my fingers to my cheeks to feel it; unlike most blushes this one felt less unsteady within me, not caused by shame or hurt at all. "A part of a far greater and far deeper role," I continued, tracing the stem of my wineglass with my fingertip.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 30, 2008 1:25:52 GMT -5
"One calling for the skill and talent Naamah hones," I continued, grinning mischievously, though it was all good naturedly. Lessa was blushing again, or rather, her cheeks were rosy with visible pleasure. I wondered if my verse would make her blush further.
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 30, 2008 6:34:23 GMT -5
I finally realized the nature of the flush- damn wine was bringing the pink to my cheeks! Well, at least I could still think of rhymes, and there was a loose topic coming together. "And no possible other part can console," I added with a smile, raising a brow- his expression told me he'd hoped that mentioning such activities would throw me off. Well, I wasn't that naive or sheltered anymore at least, and I have no doubt my own expression conveyed that quite well, though in good humor and a bit of glee to see his reaction.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 30, 2008 15:02:24 GMT -5
Her non-plussed reaction was interesting – she clearly had matured since Marsilikos, though it was to be expected. I only inclined my head in acknowledgement, not wording any of it – Lessa had gone from girl to woman in the span of a year, clearly. Even the tone of her letters had slowly foreboded it, though it was good to note it.
Perhaps it was the wine, but she’d continued on the rhythm of the quatrain when the sextet had been hers to start. Jestingly, I offered, “So you wish to keep the same rhyme for the sextet, then?”
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 30, 2008 15:07:25 GMT -5
"This would be far easier written," I mused, then sighed inwardly. I'd lost track of the line count- but at least my syllables had been consistant. "If we kept the same rhyme scheme it would be a completely different sonnet format. If the last word is changed from 'console' to 'consort' things should be set right, I believe."
A slight tension was developing between my eyes and I relaxed from my smile to a serene expression to calm it a bit; it had been some time since I'd used my facial muscles such a great deal, truth be told- or had so much to drink, though in reality most people would call it very little.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 30, 2008 22:26:09 GMT -5
Consort. That wouldn’t be the easiest to rhyme, but since we were completing each other’s rhymes in this portion of the set, it was a judicious move on her part.
“That works,” I replied with a smile. Her face was suddenly changed from mirth to calm, and I asked, a bit worried, “Are you alright?”
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 31, 2008 9:39:37 GMT -5
"I'm fine, just not used to smiling such a great deal," I admitted, another small grin coming to my features. "I suppose my mask has become such a habit I wear it even when no one's around and have grown far too accustomed to it."
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on Mar 31, 2008 11:39:03 GMT -5
I always understood that we had to learn to conceal our emotions, the best we could, but I had never considered it to be a mask - a burden at times, though. Mayhap it was the same idea.
"You are fine natural," I told her reassuringly. "I like you either way." I gave her a concerned look, and asked, "Is it not heavy to wear?"
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Mar 31, 2008 12:31:15 GMT -5
"Not usually," I assured him kindly. "Truly, it's only a way of thinking of my public demeanor. The weight only comes of my wishing to put it down- and sometimes I do. It's mostly easier, though, to leave it as it is and not be caught unaware when I need it back."
Taking a longer drink of my wine I thought for a moment, then set it back down with a smile. "And you, sir, do owe me the second line of the sextet."
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