Post by Julian Luke Monroe on Sept 22, 2010 7:40:48 GMT -6
Now we, returning from the vaulted domes
Of our colossal sleep, come home to find
A tall metropolis of catacombs
Erected down the gangways of our mind.
Green alleys where we reveled have become
The infernal haunt of demon dangers;
Beoth seraph song and violins are dumb;
Each clock tick consecrates the death of strangers. -Sylvia Plath
Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
It had been nearly a year since last his steps carried through the spoiled stones of the Underdark, but never would the feeling shake away. In strange manners he felt as though he shouldn't be anywhere else in the world, and where the underside of a society suffered in the night he felt most alive. The air was brisk, nearly a winter's chill too soon, and he was dressed for the theatre. The long duster touched the back of his boots as dark as night on the outside, with a crimson lining he appeared very much what his image was constant. The high collar of his coat was turned back by the undoing of his scarf, and the suit beneath the coat still held together no matter how deep he went into the thick of the underworld--only to return a new man with his medical bag full of new samples wrapped in wet fabric so that they would not spoil. His was a mind of brilliance, but still a mind of madness. He held a mind for the arts, and with the script of the night still playing over his mind he found inspiration..even in the darkest places. (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
One was sometimes wise to pursue information in unwise places. Though she was far from her adopted home, she was not far from her countrymen. Here, they did not mind her as the murderess of Villena any more than they would have minded her as the Whore of Babylon. Criminals formed alliances built on more than guilty or innocent, and Margot's inquiries inevitably came to dead ends in any event. Benoit was right that Skye would offer her a reprieve from running, but she was also frustratingly right in knowing she would find little of value so far from Spain. Her last avenue closed to her, she began walking toward the stairs upward and out of this place. Margot never looked defeated -- there was a reason the villagers referred to her as Sancha. Saints rarely looked downtrodden, no matter how many sacrifices they must make. Her veil fluttered as her stride gained momentum, the flimsy, delicate material brushing her cheeks. She wore all black tonight, finding it dark enough to hide whether the garment was of quality or patched to within an inch of its life, dark enough to obscure the brilliant color of her apricot-hued hair, as appearance became secondary to the power of the word, and the rich sound of coin dropping into its recipient's hand. There were too many strangers to pass on her way out, too many unfamiliar faces, and all their innocuous actions seemed threatening and mysterious. She was one of them, she noted. And yet the world would praise her for the title she'd gained through marriage, the beauty through birth, and piety through humiliation. *
Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
Her eyes were the size of the moon though dark, and held little light. How could he mistake anything else? Tonight was her night to dance, and he felt as though he did owe her this much. His world had been one of temptation as of late, where wicked ways found the man keeping his mind in the right. He was a lover of fine art, a soul that had a deep appreciation for all that was truly beautiful in the world--and as of late? It had been hell upon his faithful soul to not touch when such faces frowned, and in their pleading eyes he could have given them all the answers for a single kiss. However, his heart was within that of another, her hands so small; how could he mistake them in another? It was unlike Ada to be so clad, though in the way she moved it was of mystery..oh how he did love her little games. His Adelaide knew when his heart needed her, and on this night he would have given anything to be close to her once more. The breastplates of his vest heaved in a heavy sigh as he followed in behind her--enchanted with the intrigue as it was intoxicating to watch her move over the path with her hair pinned back, she knew what that did to him. He was drawn to her, unexplained other then it must be his Ada. A hand went around her back to capture her, the petite frame prisoner against his strength, "Mon chatte..Je suis ici…" Up against the wall he pinned her, "Je vous ai trouvé…" His gloved hands went to move the vail, so that he could kiss her...but his heart stopped. (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
It should have stopped earlier, when she tensed in his arms, afraid that Benoit's advice had proven wrong so quickly after her escape to this island. He had told her she would be safe here. He had told her it would be ages before anyone discovered she had not only survived the fire, but had left Spain entirely. Now, they had found her. She was going to die, but what was he going to do to her first? Panic never guided Margot's actions; she had been willing to throw herself into one of Spain's many wild rivers after Benoit's latest contribution to academia, and that had not been panic.Feeling the wall behind her, and this stranger pressing her into it, the very small moment of pause likely saved his life. She saw his expression change like a cloud passing over the sun, realization stopping him from removing her veil entirely. Though perhaps if he looked beyond the delicate patterns woven amidst the sheer silk, he would have seen her radiant hair earlier. "Let go of me, or I swear to you, you will live to regret it," she hissed. She moved quickly, using his shock to her advantage, and sliding out of his grip seemingly without effort. The 13-inch dagger similarly appeared without so much as a flicker of emotion across her features, and one might say it was unusual to see a lady bearing arms, if one was not familiar with the Underdark. She believed this man was not. His surprise came from somewhat else. *
Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
It was a difficult task, but Jean-Claude fell to one knee. "Mademoiselle..Je vous prie..J'ai pensé que vous étiez quelqu'un d'autre…" His voice was like the wind carried panicked through the streets as eyes that were as dark as night were wide with his sincerity, "Pardonnez-moi.." If color could touch his cheeks they would be burning in the moment of his flush, but in fact all the pigment had drained from his face, and he could not even put English together. The act had brought the education from him, and he was reverted back to his childhood with a single false act. He would happily take that dagger, and the storm winds pressed the thin fabric of his shirt to expose his pale flesh right for the taking. "I.I." He could not talk, but slowly stood--defeated, "You must." Now it started to come back to him as he ran his fingers through his hair clearly knocked off his post, "You must think me an animal. Please. Forgive me. You look just like my wife, or soon to be wife. If we could ever pin a date. She is your height, your build..your eyes." It haunted him in his ramble now, until finally he silenced himself. It was as if someone pulled upon a puppets strings to correct his stance, but some 30 years of proper schooling quickly put humpty dumpty back together again. With his white gloved hand (for the theatre of course) he would press his palm against his chest as the rose color started to paint his face, trying very hard to sort his breath. "I am, Master Jean-Claude of Aquitaine. " If any ever needed the introduction they were in fact strangers to Skye, but somewhere only he could make his name sound as it was meant. "Please accept my apology, before I run myself into your dagger." He would. In his eyes he committed an open crime, not of touching of another woman, but without her permission--or pleasure. Blasphemy!! (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
"Please do not, I am afraid I cannot carry your body. It would make disguising the crime difficult. As I have only just arrived, I would rather remain in the good graces of the Crown." It was difficult to discern whether Margot ever told jokes. She was serious to a fault, with dark eyes that seemed to bore into him, despite their intense difference in height. Yet a joke it was, and she lent a hand to help him to his feet, sliding the dagger into its protective sheath strapped behind her back, but beneath the lightweight cloak she wore against the evening's chill. It was clever, but by no means unwarranted. In that voice was another indiscernable factor: though she fluidly moved between English to French, there was no distinct accent to her words. Instead, they carried a flatness, a certain weight that made them final, and far from open to interpretation. Her art of speech was one to be marveled at, though she had come by it naturally. Her upbringing had been far from traditional for an apparent lady about town without an escort, but not without merits. She wondered if this gentleman often threw his wife about. Yes, some women liked this sort of handling, and this thought earned a slightly raised brow from Margot, as she did not like to dwell on the bedroom habits of -- "Did you say d'Aquitaine?" She smiled, ever so faintly. "I have been intrigued by only a name for far too long. I met your apprentice in Spain. I am Margot Laurent, it is -- " certainly not a pleasure, but what adjective was appropriate? "It is exciting to finally meet you." *
Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
Jean-Claude had almost the heart to question her, for this could not have been Julian's Margot. Always had he thought of the troll only his apprentice would love, in his letters he spoke nothing of her beauty, but of her wit..of her talent..His eyed then the dagger, her skill. Words could not be found upon the devil's face but his smile spoke volumes that he too had been waiting to meet her. His apprentice did not sleep at home, he figured him with her, and now seeing the face of Margot; hearing the music of his laughter tears almost sprang to his eyes. She's perfect! "Then I owe you more then an apology." His voice was ecstatic, "I have read his letters a thousand times waiting for the day to meet you, for him to bring you home. Mon cheer.." He would take her hand again and kiss her knuckles before curling it within his arm, "Please. Walk with me." Oh what beautiful grand-babies they were going to have! Look at how lovely she was! Oh what a fine complexion, and coloring. "Exciting is not the word. I have looked forward to this day since his first letter home when he mentioned a girl in the market." He smiled then, with the type that reached his eyes as there was in fact the heavens in them at that moment he was so incredibly fond of her. "I had hoped he would have brought you to me, but you see Julian has always been so quiet with his heart. Had I not known him to never mention of a female before I would have thought him indifferent." Oh..that blabbering mouth of his. "Did he tell you of my offer? Where are you staying? Have you had dinner? What of attire for the winter..you will stay won't you?" (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
She was rather overwhelmed, and kept quiet while he chattered on. Julian had not said his master was a chatty fellow. But Julian had not said much, really, about anyone. He did indeed keep his heart private, and what he truly enjoyed in life was a mystery to everyone save Janice. What surprised her most, however, of the stranger who had rescued her from her certain doom, was that he had written of her to Jean-Claude at all. Why should she factor in his letters home? Julian had been difficult to find since their arrival, but she suddenly had many questions for him. It also seemed Julian was not particularly forthcoming with his marriage, but it wasn't Margot's place to inform Jean-Claude, nor did it suit her interests at the moment to be honest with the gentleman. "I look like your wife, yes? I think there is a story you should hear, but it is not for tonight. Adelaide and I have much in common more than our noses and eyes." She glanced upward at him. A love of older men, perhaps. She sniffed briefly at the notion. "I have eaten, yes, and I am staying at a very nice inn. I have a few dresses, but they are for Spanish winters, and I think I may need to find a heavier cloak soon. I do not look forward to the coming weather." It was true. Margot felt she would never be at home here. It did not lead to anything better. It did not seem she would find information about her step-sons here. She was adrift, without much money, and no clear ambitions for how she was to spend the winter. But perhaps she might capitalize on the kindness of strangers until her fate carried her away again. *
Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
He listened very intently to her, judging her for every action as if sizing her up for what was right. She was perfect. Everything about her was absolutely perfect. "You do, you have..the same lips, and the same shape of your eyes. It is almost uncanny." Of course Jean-Claud would never mention Adelaide was a bit curvier for he found everything about her thrilling. He loved those curves--dearly, and his heart ached for her even more so now seeing this face look back at him. "He wrote many things about you. I invited you here, and I do not intend for you to stay anywhere else then in the Hall, or the Castle. Please. You know more about our secrets then any on this isle, for this reason alone I simply can not let you stay..at some nice Inn." He scoffed, "And you shall have whatever you wish. He did tell you this did he not? Of the shop?"Welcome. Welcome to Scotland. Let me take you in, make you a home here." Marry my boy. Their steps had come through the markets, where the Shop d'Ange was still lit for the night, "Ah. It appears my apprentice is still busy inside. Come. You should have first pick. The season starts soon, with all the festivals coming we shall never keep up." In truth Julian was still inside, a careful end of the day as he was picking up what was left of the day's work, and the Lady Harper not far behind him. When the bells above the door rang Jean-Claude gave Harper the look of, This is her..its her..she's real! She does exist! Julian, would drop the books he had in his hands, his eyes wide with..f**k. (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
"We are -- tonight?" Why on earth was he so happy to meet her? It made so little sense, but little did these days. He spoke of secrets, of halls and castles, of seasons and festivals, all of it so incongruous with what her life had consisted of a few short weeks ago it made her head spin. "I would be willing to stay most anywhere, I do not have a particular fondness for one place over another." They weren't home, not yet. Inns, castles, she always felt just a few minutes away from finding a new place to sleep. Her life had been a transient one, and Benoit had known how strange she felt the first few days after returning to the shack after her sojourns across Spain.It took her time to adapt, to plant her feet in one place. "He is inside? I have not seen him in several days, I hope he is well?" Idle conversation, as she had nothing else about Julian to discuss. They were still, despite their mad escape, strangers. Though she had felt more herself riding across Spain at night with Julian, joined later by Janice, than she had in a very long time, she was just getting to know the young man before they were forced to leave again. They entered the shop, and Margot's eyes widened seeing him, but quickly resumed their usual calculating stare. Where Ada's eyes were always full of mirth and occasional mischief, Margot's knew nothing but sobriety. "Good evening, Julian, look who I met in the Underdark." *
Young Master Julian Monroe:
"Good Evening, Margot..Its fate." He smiled politely, his heart standing still as ever when she was around. It seemed the earth could have stopped spinning in moments like this; the time he met her in the market. "Forgive me for not introducing you sooner. As you can tell things have been rather busy." The shop was a mess, but still it was something. Carefully he put his hands behind his back and rocked on his feet a bit nervous, as Jean-Claude moved to stand beside Harper like a kid watching a puppet show--he was so thrilled. Lowering his voice, he spoke out to her in that soft spoken manner of his that seemed more of whisper without the harsh hiss to follow, "Are you well? Do you like Scotland so far?" Did she still have those cuffs? (d
Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
Jean-Claude would lean into the Lady Harper to whisper, "Find out everything you can from the captain of the ship. Who her father is, who her mother is. Find me a list of every known relative you can, and where she is staying. I would like to see her things moved please into.." He would think for a moment, before dawning a devilish grin, "Margot, Mon cher..There is a private guest room upstairs. I would be honored to offer it to you, if you do not take up my offer of before. It is private, and one of the few that has a private wash room."
Young Master Julian Monroe:
Julian would rock on his feet again looking a bit annoyed at Jean-Claude, but the idea was not so bad, "Lots of windows for natural light, and its quiet. Please..stay." Jean-Claude, if he were a gloating man would have laughed then for fear his heart would burst if he didn't. (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
"Without an escort? It is not decent," Margot said pragmatically, eyeing both men. What were they onto, and why must she be involved? Skepticism settled on her face, while she clasped her hands gently behind her back. "It turned out to be an interesting introduction. He believed me to be Adelaide. I am certain in several years, we will look back upon this day and laugh." She didn't joke, and the ghost of one did not linger in her voice. Her humor was odd, and odder still was this preternatural ability to moderate her voice in any situation. She would have been a great asset to any courtier of a husband, and not only because of her beauty. "I reserve my opinion about Scotland until I have lived here for some time. I miss Catalonia, though. The mountains, the dry air, there is no better weather."Another look between the two men and then toward the stairs. "No, not without a chaperone. There are better and less scandalous accomodations to be found, let us find them. We are not married, it would not be right, though I appreciate the offer. You have been so hospitable, Master d'Aquitaine, I do not feel right refusing." The ghost of a smile appeared upon her lips and was quickly gone, her gaze settling then on Julian. She had little idea what he had told Jean-Claude, and so would sink into her usual quiet, letting her own perceived awkwardness fuel the fire of the two gentlemen that she might have something to go on. *
Young Master Julian Monroe:
Much of the boy had changed since Spain, his elders knew this, but for him to act so polite to another had hardly been natural before. "You would have it all to yourself after hours, but if you wish perhaps she would better be suited in the Hall, Master." Julian looked up to Jean-Claude giving him that look of, she would need the protection, and to trust him. Jean-Claude would give a nod of his head, before both he and Harper would move from the room to make the proper arraignments and see to it she would be fitted soon. "The whole town has been talking about you." He spoke the truth then a bit more open, "I had thought you had left."He was glad she had not, "Don't pay him any mind. He pretends to be daft sometimes, really he's a very smart man. I think you both will get along well when this is over." When what was over? It was very hard for him to admit the next part, and even the thought made his eyes fall with a small flush of his features, "I wrote him many letters about you, I suspect he thinks me in love." Was it far from the truth? Meeting her eyes once again, the ice of his eyes would chill if they were not pleading for her to keep secrets. "I only told him about you, not what you are so don't be worried about that." (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
"I did not leave, obviously. I changed inns," she replied quietly, waiting for Jean-Claude and Harper to be well and truly gone. "It is dull here, Julian. I wish I could like this place, but it holds nothing for me." A slight flush to her cheeks rose, too. Perhaps there was something here, people she liked far too much for that statement to be true. She did not love Julian, but he was a larger part of her life than she had expected, and Janice was a kindred spirit. "But I cannot go back. I cannot go anywhere. I am afraid to. In the meantime, I have nothing to do, no skill to ply, no rank or title worth announcing, if it did not mean certain death. I am a non-person, I do not exist here. It worries me greatly to put you and Janice at risk, when there is already one here who endangers you all." She walked around the table, picking up a bolt of cloth and letting it slide between her fingers. Her clothes were not black as first presumed, but a forest green, with black trimmings and embellishments. Who had made it was long gone from Margot's life, and no longer mattered in this one. She crossed back to him, and leaned in close enough that even she was uncomfortable with the intimacy. "I can bring you the box tomorrow, if you like. You must give her all five, or it will not bind. I would have brought them sooner, but I have been -- I do not know if I am being followed," she completed in a single breath, before stepping away and glancing at the hearth. "I am probably not." *
Young Master Julian Monroe:
His heart hurt to hear you say this, and he went over the entire topic through, "Have you given it a chance?" He hated it here too, though more and more Skye was starting to open to him. "Nothing here is as it seems." He would motion over his shoulder to where Jean-Claude had gone, "Beyond those politician's smiles he's a scientist, and has secret labs all over the city. His..whatever she is, heals. There is a large library where Janice works, and an entire other world just below the gates of the Underdark. Forgive me Margot, I have neglected you." He stood a little taller, "I will right my wrong." When it came to the topic of Ada's bracelets he would heave a heavy sigh, suddenly feeling as though he was betraying her just be even asking, "Five?" Should he explain them to Ada? Over the course of the weeks of their return she has not even come to say hello or welcome home, why should he care if they hurt her or not? When his eyes went to his Master he watched him going over the new fabric with that certain look he got in his eyes when he thought of Adelaide, no doubt she would have something in it by the end of the week. However, the fear of Margot's quickly pushed it all aside, "Being followed? Have their been signs? Are you afraid? I can have guards posted wherever you stay, or.." He would bite on his lips looking back to Jean-Claude, "You can stay with me. I'm living with Janice. I..I rent her attic out." Meaning it would be empty of course, Julian slept with her. "I can also get you in the castle. Master St. Laurence will offer you anything, we are in your debt."
Of our colossal sleep, come home to find
A tall metropolis of catacombs
Erected down the gangways of our mind.
Green alleys where we reveled have become
The infernal haunt of demon dangers;
Beoth seraph song and violins are dumb;
Each clock tick consecrates the death of strangers. -Sylvia Plath
Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
It had been nearly a year since last his steps carried through the spoiled stones of the Underdark, but never would the feeling shake away. In strange manners he felt as though he shouldn't be anywhere else in the world, and where the underside of a society suffered in the night he felt most alive. The air was brisk, nearly a winter's chill too soon, and he was dressed for the theatre. The long duster touched the back of his boots as dark as night on the outside, with a crimson lining he appeared very much what his image was constant. The high collar of his coat was turned back by the undoing of his scarf, and the suit beneath the coat still held together no matter how deep he went into the thick of the underworld--only to return a new man with his medical bag full of new samples wrapped in wet fabric so that they would not spoil. His was a mind of brilliance, but still a mind of madness. He held a mind for the arts, and with the script of the night still playing over his mind he found inspiration..even in the darkest places. (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
One was sometimes wise to pursue information in unwise places. Though she was far from her adopted home, she was not far from her countrymen. Here, they did not mind her as the murderess of Villena any more than they would have minded her as the Whore of Babylon. Criminals formed alliances built on more than guilty or innocent, and Margot's inquiries inevitably came to dead ends in any event. Benoit was right that Skye would offer her a reprieve from running, but she was also frustratingly right in knowing she would find little of value so far from Spain. Her last avenue closed to her, she began walking toward the stairs upward and out of this place. Margot never looked defeated -- there was a reason the villagers referred to her as Sancha. Saints rarely looked downtrodden, no matter how many sacrifices they must make. Her veil fluttered as her stride gained momentum, the flimsy, delicate material brushing her cheeks. She wore all black tonight, finding it dark enough to hide whether the garment was of quality or patched to within an inch of its life, dark enough to obscure the brilliant color of her apricot-hued hair, as appearance became secondary to the power of the word, and the rich sound of coin dropping into its recipient's hand. There were too many strangers to pass on her way out, too many unfamiliar faces, and all their innocuous actions seemed threatening and mysterious. She was one of them, she noted. And yet the world would praise her for the title she'd gained through marriage, the beauty through birth, and piety through humiliation. *
Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
Her eyes were the size of the moon though dark, and held little light. How could he mistake anything else? Tonight was her night to dance, and he felt as though he did owe her this much. His world had been one of temptation as of late, where wicked ways found the man keeping his mind in the right. He was a lover of fine art, a soul that had a deep appreciation for all that was truly beautiful in the world--and as of late? It had been hell upon his faithful soul to not touch when such faces frowned, and in their pleading eyes he could have given them all the answers for a single kiss. However, his heart was within that of another, her hands so small; how could he mistake them in another? It was unlike Ada to be so clad, though in the way she moved it was of mystery..oh how he did love her little games. His Adelaide knew when his heart needed her, and on this night he would have given anything to be close to her once more. The breastplates of his vest heaved in a heavy sigh as he followed in behind her--enchanted with the intrigue as it was intoxicating to watch her move over the path with her hair pinned back, she knew what that did to him. He was drawn to her, unexplained other then it must be his Ada. A hand went around her back to capture her, the petite frame prisoner against his strength, "Mon chatte..Je suis ici…" Up against the wall he pinned her, "Je vous ai trouvé…" His gloved hands went to move the vail, so that he could kiss her...but his heart stopped. (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
It should have stopped earlier, when she tensed in his arms, afraid that Benoit's advice had proven wrong so quickly after her escape to this island. He had told her she would be safe here. He had told her it would be ages before anyone discovered she had not only survived the fire, but had left Spain entirely. Now, they had found her. She was going to die, but what was he going to do to her first? Panic never guided Margot's actions; she had been willing to throw herself into one of Spain's many wild rivers after Benoit's latest contribution to academia, and that had not been panic.Feeling the wall behind her, and this stranger pressing her into it, the very small moment of pause likely saved his life. She saw his expression change like a cloud passing over the sun, realization stopping him from removing her veil entirely. Though perhaps if he looked beyond the delicate patterns woven amidst the sheer silk, he would have seen her radiant hair earlier. "Let go of me, or I swear to you, you will live to regret it," she hissed. She moved quickly, using his shock to her advantage, and sliding out of his grip seemingly without effort. The 13-inch dagger similarly appeared without so much as a flicker of emotion across her features, and one might say it was unusual to see a lady bearing arms, if one was not familiar with the Underdark. She believed this man was not. His surprise came from somewhat else. *
Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
It was a difficult task, but Jean-Claude fell to one knee. "Mademoiselle..Je vous prie..J'ai pensé que vous étiez quelqu'un d'autre…" His voice was like the wind carried panicked through the streets as eyes that were as dark as night were wide with his sincerity, "Pardonnez-moi.." If color could touch his cheeks they would be burning in the moment of his flush, but in fact all the pigment had drained from his face, and he could not even put English together. The act had brought the education from him, and he was reverted back to his childhood with a single false act. He would happily take that dagger, and the storm winds pressed the thin fabric of his shirt to expose his pale flesh right for the taking. "I.I." He could not talk, but slowly stood--defeated, "You must." Now it started to come back to him as he ran his fingers through his hair clearly knocked off his post, "You must think me an animal. Please. Forgive me. You look just like my wife, or soon to be wife. If we could ever pin a date. She is your height, your build..your eyes." It haunted him in his ramble now, until finally he silenced himself. It was as if someone pulled upon a puppets strings to correct his stance, but some 30 years of proper schooling quickly put humpty dumpty back together again. With his white gloved hand (for the theatre of course) he would press his palm against his chest as the rose color started to paint his face, trying very hard to sort his breath. "I am, Master Jean-Claude of Aquitaine. " If any ever needed the introduction they were in fact strangers to Skye, but somewhere only he could make his name sound as it was meant. "Please accept my apology, before I run myself into your dagger." He would. In his eyes he committed an open crime, not of touching of another woman, but without her permission--or pleasure. Blasphemy!! (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
"Please do not, I am afraid I cannot carry your body. It would make disguising the crime difficult. As I have only just arrived, I would rather remain in the good graces of the Crown." It was difficult to discern whether Margot ever told jokes. She was serious to a fault, with dark eyes that seemed to bore into him, despite their intense difference in height. Yet a joke it was, and she lent a hand to help him to his feet, sliding the dagger into its protective sheath strapped behind her back, but beneath the lightweight cloak she wore against the evening's chill. It was clever, but by no means unwarranted. In that voice was another indiscernable factor: though she fluidly moved between English to French, there was no distinct accent to her words. Instead, they carried a flatness, a certain weight that made them final, and far from open to interpretation. Her art of speech was one to be marveled at, though she had come by it naturally. Her upbringing had been far from traditional for an apparent lady about town without an escort, but not without merits. She wondered if this gentleman often threw his wife about. Yes, some women liked this sort of handling, and this thought earned a slightly raised brow from Margot, as she did not like to dwell on the bedroom habits of -- "Did you say d'Aquitaine?" She smiled, ever so faintly. "I have been intrigued by only a name for far too long. I met your apprentice in Spain. I am Margot Laurent, it is -- " certainly not a pleasure, but what adjective was appropriate? "It is exciting to finally meet you." *
Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
Jean-Claude had almost the heart to question her, for this could not have been Julian's Margot. Always had he thought of the troll only his apprentice would love, in his letters he spoke nothing of her beauty, but of her wit..of her talent..His eyed then the dagger, her skill. Words could not be found upon the devil's face but his smile spoke volumes that he too had been waiting to meet her. His apprentice did not sleep at home, he figured him with her, and now seeing the face of Margot; hearing the music of his laughter tears almost sprang to his eyes. She's perfect! "Then I owe you more then an apology." His voice was ecstatic, "I have read his letters a thousand times waiting for the day to meet you, for him to bring you home. Mon cheer.." He would take her hand again and kiss her knuckles before curling it within his arm, "Please. Walk with me." Oh what beautiful grand-babies they were going to have! Look at how lovely she was! Oh what a fine complexion, and coloring. "Exciting is not the word. I have looked forward to this day since his first letter home when he mentioned a girl in the market." He smiled then, with the type that reached his eyes as there was in fact the heavens in them at that moment he was so incredibly fond of her. "I had hoped he would have brought you to me, but you see Julian has always been so quiet with his heart. Had I not known him to never mention of a female before I would have thought him indifferent." Oh..that blabbering mouth of his. "Did he tell you of my offer? Where are you staying? Have you had dinner? What of attire for the winter..you will stay won't you?" (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
She was rather overwhelmed, and kept quiet while he chattered on. Julian had not said his master was a chatty fellow. But Julian had not said much, really, about anyone. He did indeed keep his heart private, and what he truly enjoyed in life was a mystery to everyone save Janice. What surprised her most, however, of the stranger who had rescued her from her certain doom, was that he had written of her to Jean-Claude at all. Why should she factor in his letters home? Julian had been difficult to find since their arrival, but she suddenly had many questions for him. It also seemed Julian was not particularly forthcoming with his marriage, but it wasn't Margot's place to inform Jean-Claude, nor did it suit her interests at the moment to be honest with the gentleman. "I look like your wife, yes? I think there is a story you should hear, but it is not for tonight. Adelaide and I have much in common more than our noses and eyes." She glanced upward at him. A love of older men, perhaps. She sniffed briefly at the notion. "I have eaten, yes, and I am staying at a very nice inn. I have a few dresses, but they are for Spanish winters, and I think I may need to find a heavier cloak soon. I do not look forward to the coming weather." It was true. Margot felt she would never be at home here. It did not lead to anything better. It did not seem she would find information about her step-sons here. She was adrift, without much money, and no clear ambitions for how she was to spend the winter. But perhaps she might capitalize on the kindness of strangers until her fate carried her away again. *
Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
He listened very intently to her, judging her for every action as if sizing her up for what was right. She was perfect. Everything about her was absolutely perfect. "You do, you have..the same lips, and the same shape of your eyes. It is almost uncanny." Of course Jean-Claud would never mention Adelaide was a bit curvier for he found everything about her thrilling. He loved those curves--dearly, and his heart ached for her even more so now seeing this face look back at him. "He wrote many things about you. I invited you here, and I do not intend for you to stay anywhere else then in the Hall, or the Castle. Please. You know more about our secrets then any on this isle, for this reason alone I simply can not let you stay..at some nice Inn." He scoffed, "And you shall have whatever you wish. He did tell you this did he not? Of the shop?"Welcome. Welcome to Scotland. Let me take you in, make you a home here." Marry my boy. Their steps had come through the markets, where the Shop d'Ange was still lit for the night, "Ah. It appears my apprentice is still busy inside. Come. You should have first pick. The season starts soon, with all the festivals coming we shall never keep up." In truth Julian was still inside, a careful end of the day as he was picking up what was left of the day's work, and the Lady Harper not far behind him. When the bells above the door rang Jean-Claude gave Harper the look of, This is her..its her..she's real! She does exist! Julian, would drop the books he had in his hands, his eyes wide with..f**k. (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
"We are -- tonight?" Why on earth was he so happy to meet her? It made so little sense, but little did these days. He spoke of secrets, of halls and castles, of seasons and festivals, all of it so incongruous with what her life had consisted of a few short weeks ago it made her head spin. "I would be willing to stay most anywhere, I do not have a particular fondness for one place over another." They weren't home, not yet. Inns, castles, she always felt just a few minutes away from finding a new place to sleep. Her life had been a transient one, and Benoit had known how strange she felt the first few days after returning to the shack after her sojourns across Spain.It took her time to adapt, to plant her feet in one place. "He is inside? I have not seen him in several days, I hope he is well?" Idle conversation, as she had nothing else about Julian to discuss. They were still, despite their mad escape, strangers. Though she had felt more herself riding across Spain at night with Julian, joined later by Janice, than she had in a very long time, she was just getting to know the young man before they were forced to leave again. They entered the shop, and Margot's eyes widened seeing him, but quickly resumed their usual calculating stare. Where Ada's eyes were always full of mirth and occasional mischief, Margot's knew nothing but sobriety. "Good evening, Julian, look who I met in the Underdark." *
Young Master Julian Monroe:
"Good Evening, Margot..Its fate." He smiled politely, his heart standing still as ever when she was around. It seemed the earth could have stopped spinning in moments like this; the time he met her in the market. "Forgive me for not introducing you sooner. As you can tell things have been rather busy." The shop was a mess, but still it was something. Carefully he put his hands behind his back and rocked on his feet a bit nervous, as Jean-Claude moved to stand beside Harper like a kid watching a puppet show--he was so thrilled. Lowering his voice, he spoke out to her in that soft spoken manner of his that seemed more of whisper without the harsh hiss to follow, "Are you well? Do you like Scotland so far?" Did she still have those cuffs? (d
Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine:
Jean-Claude would lean into the Lady Harper to whisper, "Find out everything you can from the captain of the ship. Who her father is, who her mother is. Find me a list of every known relative you can, and where she is staying. I would like to see her things moved please into.." He would think for a moment, before dawning a devilish grin, "Margot, Mon cher..There is a private guest room upstairs. I would be honored to offer it to you, if you do not take up my offer of before. It is private, and one of the few that has a private wash room."
Young Master Julian Monroe:
Julian would rock on his feet again looking a bit annoyed at Jean-Claude, but the idea was not so bad, "Lots of windows for natural light, and its quiet. Please..stay." Jean-Claude, if he were a gloating man would have laughed then for fear his heart would burst if he didn't. (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
"Without an escort? It is not decent," Margot said pragmatically, eyeing both men. What were they onto, and why must she be involved? Skepticism settled on her face, while she clasped her hands gently behind her back. "It turned out to be an interesting introduction. He believed me to be Adelaide. I am certain in several years, we will look back upon this day and laugh." She didn't joke, and the ghost of one did not linger in her voice. Her humor was odd, and odder still was this preternatural ability to moderate her voice in any situation. She would have been a great asset to any courtier of a husband, and not only because of her beauty. "I reserve my opinion about Scotland until I have lived here for some time. I miss Catalonia, though. The mountains, the dry air, there is no better weather."Another look between the two men and then toward the stairs. "No, not without a chaperone. There are better and less scandalous accomodations to be found, let us find them. We are not married, it would not be right, though I appreciate the offer. You have been so hospitable, Master d'Aquitaine, I do not feel right refusing." The ghost of a smile appeared upon her lips and was quickly gone, her gaze settling then on Julian. She had little idea what he had told Jean-Claude, and so would sink into her usual quiet, letting her own perceived awkwardness fuel the fire of the two gentlemen that she might have something to go on. *
Young Master Julian Monroe:
Much of the boy had changed since Spain, his elders knew this, but for him to act so polite to another had hardly been natural before. "You would have it all to yourself after hours, but if you wish perhaps she would better be suited in the Hall, Master." Julian looked up to Jean-Claude giving him that look of, she would need the protection, and to trust him. Jean-Claude would give a nod of his head, before both he and Harper would move from the room to make the proper arraignments and see to it she would be fitted soon. "The whole town has been talking about you." He spoke the truth then a bit more open, "I had thought you had left."He was glad she had not, "Don't pay him any mind. He pretends to be daft sometimes, really he's a very smart man. I think you both will get along well when this is over." When what was over? It was very hard for him to admit the next part, and even the thought made his eyes fall with a small flush of his features, "I wrote him many letters about you, I suspect he thinks me in love." Was it far from the truth? Meeting her eyes once again, the ice of his eyes would chill if they were not pleading for her to keep secrets. "I only told him about you, not what you are so don't be worried about that." (d
Lady Margot Laurent:
"I did not leave, obviously. I changed inns," she replied quietly, waiting for Jean-Claude and Harper to be well and truly gone. "It is dull here, Julian. I wish I could like this place, but it holds nothing for me." A slight flush to her cheeks rose, too. Perhaps there was something here, people she liked far too much for that statement to be true. She did not love Julian, but he was a larger part of her life than she had expected, and Janice was a kindred spirit. "But I cannot go back. I cannot go anywhere. I am afraid to. In the meantime, I have nothing to do, no skill to ply, no rank or title worth announcing, if it did not mean certain death. I am a non-person, I do not exist here. It worries me greatly to put you and Janice at risk, when there is already one here who endangers you all." She walked around the table, picking up a bolt of cloth and letting it slide between her fingers. Her clothes were not black as first presumed, but a forest green, with black trimmings and embellishments. Who had made it was long gone from Margot's life, and no longer mattered in this one. She crossed back to him, and leaned in close enough that even she was uncomfortable with the intimacy. "I can bring you the box tomorrow, if you like. You must give her all five, or it will not bind. I would have brought them sooner, but I have been -- I do not know if I am being followed," she completed in a single breath, before stepping away and glancing at the hearth. "I am probably not." *
Young Master Julian Monroe:
His heart hurt to hear you say this, and he went over the entire topic through, "Have you given it a chance?" He hated it here too, though more and more Skye was starting to open to him. "Nothing here is as it seems." He would motion over his shoulder to where Jean-Claude had gone, "Beyond those politician's smiles he's a scientist, and has secret labs all over the city. His..whatever she is, heals. There is a large library where Janice works, and an entire other world just below the gates of the Underdark. Forgive me Margot, I have neglected you." He stood a little taller, "I will right my wrong." When it came to the topic of Ada's bracelets he would heave a heavy sigh, suddenly feeling as though he was betraying her just be even asking, "Five?" Should he explain them to Ada? Over the course of the weeks of their return she has not even come to say hello or welcome home, why should he care if they hurt her or not? When his eyes went to his Master he watched him going over the new fabric with that certain look he got in his eyes when he thought of Adelaide, no doubt she would have something in it by the end of the week. However, the fear of Margot's quickly pushed it all aside, "Being followed? Have their been signs? Are you afraid? I can have guards posted wherever you stay, or.." He would bite on his lips looking back to Jean-Claude, "You can stay with me. I'm living with Janice. I..I rent her attic out." Meaning it would be empty of course, Julian slept with her. "I can also get you in the castle. Master St. Laurence will offer you anything, we are in your debt."
