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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Nov 18, 2005 12:15:38 GMT -5
I nearly sighed. This could get to be a very exhausting relationship if I had to keep proving I wasn’t playing him false. But I was willing to give him some leeway, a couple of days at least, to figure out that sometimes, just sometimes, it’s nice to have someone to talk with. “I was planning to befriend you and then embarrass you by forcing you to clean the front of Mandrake in an outlandish costume. I seem to have been thwarted on half my plan by that preemptive Dowayne of ours. But seeing as I’ve gone to all this trouble, I think I’ll just stick to the other half if you don’t mind too much.”
Inspecting my nails I pushed right on, “Fickle patrons are infuriating. They can almost make one wish for the less complicated carousing the other Houses enjoy. Listen, my feet are getting cold so if you want a shirt speak up now because I’m not going back in once I’m properly shod. I’m not that charitable.” My feet weren’t all that cold really, but I thought maybe he’d like a moment to himself to come to some decisions. And if I had to look at that ridiculous frockcoat much longer I’d didn’t think I’d be able to go without mocking it further. Honestly, who wants to waste time mocking a coat when there are nobles to be lampooned?
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Nov 20, 2005 6:49:07 GMT -5
“B-b-befriend me?” It was out before I could stop it, and in such a plaintive, bewildered voice too. “Whatever for?” Again, I’d lost control of what I was saying and something very close to a truth had just slipped beyond my guards in the haze of confusion. “On second thoughts,” I added quickly, mustering myself again, “don’t answer that. I’m just going to conclude you’re irrevocably insane and I know it’s important to humour the insane lest they become violent to themselves and others. Just…” I paused, wondering how best to put this, “just,” I went on casually “just try not to … you know … change your mind unexpectedly when you realise that I’m really like this or … or … stab me in the back. People get, well, used to people, you know.”
I cleared my throat and made a dismissive gesture. “Anyway, you ought to get inside. I don’t want you to catch a chill and start blaming me for it, as I’m sure you would. Don’t worry about the shirt, I’d much rather get Princess Phreya’s clothes covered in filth than my own.” Besides, I wasn’t quite ready to start trusting anyone with access to my room. “If I actually bother to put some honest to goodness work in I could probably get this finished before nightfall. And I suppose … I suppose … “ I had an attack of feeling strangely self-conscious, “I suppose I’ll see you later?” I finished, hesitantly.
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Nov 23, 2005 23:12:03 GMT -5
And there was that puppy again. Knowing what I did about his pride I very carefully kept my smile friendly instead of sympathetic, which he would doubtless mistake for pity, and kept my answer as light as I could, “Maybe if you can manage to be clean next time we meet up we could even go out in public together.” I waggled my eyebrows distinctly just to make sure he knew I being light hearted.
“You’ll have to tell me about having a Princess as a patron. I’d be jealous if I weren’t so sweet and even tempered.” Hoping to my feet I performed a little pirouette and batted my eyelashes outrageously before bounding up the steps and through the front doors. I blithely ignored all the stares I received through the halls, which ran the gamut from shocked to smug. I’m not really sure at what point I decided it would be far more entertaining in the long run to keep Louvel as a friend than just to nettle him intermittently, but I was sure that once he was sure I didn’t have a grand design unfolding around him he would be a most worthwhile companion.
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Nov 24, 2005 8:52:22 GMT -5
I could not help but chuckle at her parting comments. “Go out in public with you?” I retorted, “I may be washing the stairs of Mandrake dressed up like a prick but I have some pride left to me, you know.” But there was no malice in it and, even as I said it, I knew I didn’t mean it.
It was harder work without Dominique to entertain … I mean … annoy me but the lack of distraction meant I got more of it done. And in the aftermath of Henri, few were courageous enough to cross me again. Hah!
My thoughts were rather in turmoil. In a very strange way, and certainly not one I would ever have admitted to anyone, I was almost glad for my menial labour. Otherwise I would have fretted and paced the confines of my room in a manner hardly conducive to peace of mind or even to coherent thought. I replayed the conversation between Dominique and myself, and found I could not even pinpoint the moment when she’d stopped taunting me, as she usually did, and started to solicit – of all things! – my friendship; worse I could not pinpoint the moment when I’d started responding to it. How had she managed to trick me into that?
And, then, because it seemed I could no longer distract, my thoughts turned back to Douleur and the horrific scene this morning. It’s very really easy to stay detached and cold when people are making you scrub floors. But Dominique had left me feeling rather … less myself than usual. And shame and regret and everything else I could neither face nor reconcile washed over me in a positive deluge. It’s futile and trite to wish to live again time already passed but I wished it regardless. Unfortunately all we have is time to come. Time to come? An idea, reckless and intoxicating, seized me. It’s true that you can’t control the past … but the future, and what you do with that, is entirely your own.
And a thousand curses, it was late afternoon and I was half-determined to let myself do something and damn the consequences … and I was still stuck cleaning this staircase. A low-pitched laugh from behind me alerted me to the presence of Ignace. I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to see him in my entire life. Wait. I don’t think I’ve ever been glad to see him anyway. But there he was, watching me with a glitter of amusement in his black eyes and I felt as though Kusheth himself had answered my prayers.
“I think you’ve missed your true calling,” he murmured. “You’ve done rather a fine job on this.” He sat down upon one of my gleaming steps. “Are you actually going to lower yourself to talk to me this time?”
I hung my head. “The Princess Phreya and I did not suit,” I began with dignity but, then, discovering a bitterness I had not realised I felt rushed on: “I found her childish and fickle and…”
“That’s quite enough of that,” he interrupted, but gently enough.
“Well you asked me to talk to you,” I snapped back.
His lips curled into the faintest suggestion of a smile. “I asked you to talk to me, not vilify one of the Royal Family. Have you no sense of discretion or decorum. Well, no, I suppose not. When are you going to stop getting into trouble, Louvel?”
I opened my mouth to protest and then admitted ruefully: “Probably never.”
To my surprise, he chucked me lightly under the chin. “At least you’re honest about it. You’re the strangest creature. I do believe scrubbing floors suits you.” “Well I’m not doing it again!” I said, with feeling.
He laughed once more. “But, then,” he went on, his voice dropping to a purring whisper, “as I recall, so did a fine thrashing…”
My eyes widened, flinched away from his and heat rushed to my face.
“Go and change – you smell more fitting for swine than human company. And done,” he went on, as I began to speak, “take that as opportunity to make a cutting remark against your fellow adepts. A little competitiveness is all very well but we all belong to the same House, you know.”
I fell silent, disappointed, but was only glad to take his advice. A very hot bath was just what I needed.
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