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Retired Moderator
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#151 Old 6th May 2008 at 8:41 PM
Default César & Joséphine & various others - Red Salon
César was satisfied. Things had taken a little longer than he had anticipated and would have appreciated, but at long last, someone had finally had the decency to ask about the composer of the musical piece they had just heard. And even though by that time, most of the people around them that had been previously engaged - be it by conversation or card play - had returned to what they had been doing and thus stopped listening, thanks to the quick wits of his wife, and the enthusiasm of one of her... vociferous... acquaintances - the Marquise de Magenta - most of them would be left unknowing of whose work they had all just had the pleasure of listening to.

"You do me great honour, Comte," Joséphine told the man that had inquired about the composer. "I am pleased you've found it to your liking. I cannot take credit for the composition of the piece however; that belongs entirely to our Prince, Octavien Lahance. Music is perhaps one of his Majesty's lesser known talents, but I am confident that, given time, each of them will make themselves known."

Ah, wasn't she magnificent? A true master at getting a point across with such subtlety that instead of telling people what they should think, it hinted that perhaps they should reconsider their stance, as they had obviously failed to recognize something that she saw quite clearly. And no one liked failing. No one liked missing what to others was so plain to see.

And while Joséphine was soft-spoken enough to only be heard by those closest to them, who were still listening, the Marquise de Magenta's reaction ensured that most of the others in the Salon registered that something noteworthy had just been uttered, as apparently, the Prince's talent was the cause of quite a bit of excitement on her part. It was impossible not to hear her prattle on about how she hadn't known that the Prince could compose, and such a passionate piece, too, and oh, how pleased he must be to have someone like Joséphine, with her pleasant voice, to perform it.
On and on she went, until she finally paused to draw in a new breath, obviously intent on continuing her praise. It was the opportunity César had been waiting for, as he was determined to get a word in edgewise.

"Now now, Joséphine", he said. "You're giving His Majesty all the credit, when really, it is partly your work as well. The vocals are your own addition, are they not?"

Goal being to improve the court's impression of Octavien or not, he wouldn't let it happen on Joséphine's expense. She deserved praise not only for her playing and for her voice, but also for her ability to add such lovely vocals to a musical piece in the first place. And maybe, just maybe, it was a way for César to boast a little bit more, by making everyone aware that he had what every man wanted; a beautiful, intelligent and talented young wife.
He simply couldn't help himself.

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
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Scholar
#152 Old 6th May 2008 at 10:14 PM
Default Octavien and Isabella - Grand Ballroom
"I suppose I was...", Octavien uttered the words softly, a sombre smile trickling into his lips as his eyes returned to her. Bella let her gaze fall subtly over him, sensing and studying the hidden depth to his reply, as if he had almost wished that he hadn’t been trapped in his thought. "Sometimes, one simply finds that the past holds more appeal than does the present."

Bella continued to caress the walls as she almost glided on into the room. She could feel the weight of his words, almost a burden on him as if he did not enjoy being somehow trapped in the past. She finally came to a smooth rest, placing her hand against the cool wall as she rested against it, facing Octavein.

“A man with a story to tell,” Bella almost whispered softly as a warm, inquisitive smile began to mould over her lips. The fingers of her hand were tracing the embossing in her wallpaper absently, as if it brought her some form of comfort. Octavien was a curious sort, laden with some emotional weight or another in the face of his youth. He seemed carry a spark – a distant light, now – of lightness and mischief and yet his form seemed somewhat dejected.

Bella suddenly realised that he may not take too well to being asked about what ailed him and it really was out of the question to do so; it was none of her business. Besides, he seemed to be someone who could shun the false airs and graces for a moment’s sincerity. It was a gift to find another like that, another person who was willing to stop pretending that everything came down to power and money. Perhaps they were the ones pretending.

Maybe Octavien was secretly laughing at her not knowing who he was? If he was that important. Perhaps Bella was growing paranoid? Either way, she was grateful for the opportunity to be people rather than positions in society. It was a small price to pay for something she craved so deeply at present.

Bella gracefully peeled herself away from the wall, beginning to walk in what was almost a dance to music she could faintly imagine as she asked herself where her life was really going; with her father now absent indefinitely, her responsiblity to make her own stance in the world, being a woman, no less. Octavien and herself were not so different at all, wanting to live in the past, clinging to things they both knew.

“I suppose we all have our stories to tell,” she gave a soft sigh in realisation, returning her gaze onto his form. “Perhaps we only cling to the past because we do not know what the future holds for us?”

(OOC: Sorry for general weirdness of that, it's really late and I just got back from dining out )

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
Original Poster
#153 Old 6th May 2008 at 10:14 PM
Mercy re-entered the castle, the rain was pouring down and the front of her dress was wet, she dispatched a note to the Duc d'Lorraine it was short and sweet.

Dear Dimitri,

My dress has returned and along with it a certain bill which i believe you wished to deal with. I would therefore request your presense over dinner so we may fianlly put the issue to rest.

Yours in greatest anticipation.

M.


It was dispatched and taken into the red salon no doubt to interrupt some mildly interesting conversation.

Mercy was wondering through the castle with the express intention of returning to her chambers to dry off, clean up and put on her blue dress. She however haulted just short of a much younger woman who was dripping wet.

"Baroness Taylor, it has been quite a while since we last spoke." It would be quite a wierd sight for any other person to see these two rain-soaked Baronesses talking in a Palace corridor. the hillarty was however lost on Mercy who was genuinely interested in the woman's return to the court.
Scholar
#154 Old 6th May 2008 at 10:38 PM
Default Dimitri, Charmaine and Christine - La Salon Rouge
(OOC: Okay, that article is... odd. And yup, Sezia, Avignon is fine (I spelt it wrong, oops!). And lol, Christine's about to have a fun time explaining her sudden lack of parents!)

“Pardon my reaction, Duchesse. It is not often that one arrives at the Red Salon partly drenched, hence my alarm that something was amiss. Have a seat; the cognac shall warm you,” the man offered, gesturing to a seat and the promised alcohol. Christine let a small laugh at his brave admittance of being distressed at her unorthodox entrance.
“I am Duke Dimitri of Lorraine,” the man introduced himself before proceeding introducing his female companion “…and this is Lady Charmaine de Mollier from England.”
Christine let her smile flow from the Duc to the Lady.

Lady de Mollier. English. Christine personally had nothing against the nation, but France had a sworn vendetta against it. Still, she decided to indulge in a little social tolerance for the sake of Lady Charmaine and continue the conversation in English.

“I gather you just arrived at the Palace, Duchesse?” Dimitri had continued, making her attention return to him.

“Yes,” Christine admitted with grace, knowing her entrance looking ravaged by the rain had given it away. However, she gave away nothing more than that. She sipped carefully at the cognac, tasting it for every drop, registering the flicker of curiosity behind Dimitri’s eyes. “Have I missed much, Duke?”

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
Top Secret Researcher
#155 Old 7th May 2008 at 1:24 AM
Larkin had noticed vaguely that it had started to rain during the harpsichordist's performance, but he was inside, and in his suite was a massive fireplace. Who could possibly ask for anything more? His mind was drawn from his brief fantasy by Marie-Elisabeth laughing at his last comment and saying, “Makes English sound attractive? My goodness, it must be a greater relief than I thought to be back here. Though it must be interesting to visit such an…exotic place”.

Interesting? Undoubtedly. Larkin had enjoyed his time in Zimbabwe, make no mistake, and he hadn't even missed his homeland that much. Then again, now that he was back he wondered how he had ever convinced himself to leave. With much effort he brought himself from more thoughts of featherbeds, wine and general luxury to hear his companion saying affectionatley, “My son is always talking about wanting to go off to exotic places and fight great battles like his father. But I keep telling him he’s got to at least wait until his age reaches double digits before he goes charging off to war”.

That coaxed a smile onto Larkin's face. The general popularity of war astounded him. Then again, he, by most of the one's who made it popular, was an old fart. So fair enough. Before he could get much of anything in edge wise she continued, “Where are my manners, I forgot to give you the name of the lovely harpsichordist. That’s Joséphine de la Vallière, the Marquise de Mont-de-Marsan. She’s standing just over there with her husband César, the Marquis”.

"Ah, thank you for that, I was most intrigued." Mont-de-Marsan... he hadn't heard of the previous marquis dying, which was strange, since the marquedom was right next to Aurvilies' parent duchy. He would have to speak to his steward, that was something he should have been informed of..

Now was not the time to worry about it though, he couldn't do anything much about it, nor did it matter overmuch. He contemplated inquiring after the peice the Marquise had played, but decided against it. For at least the first few days he was at court he would be walking a very fine line between fascinating world traveler and woefully ignorant interloper. If the song was popular then it would make him appear unschooled in the latest fashions, and if it was new then he would surely hear about it elsewhere.

Little else seemed like it ought to be said, and that was further added to by a cognac being distributed. He gratefully accepted a glass and paused for a moment to inhale the liquor's bouquet. That too was something he would ahve to reacquaint himself with, although he had no doubt that sampling a wine cellar would not be nearly as difficult or awkward as discovering what he had missed in music and art.

"Now this is something just wonderful after years abroad- sitting in a comfortable chair, with a glass of good cognac, and conversing in one's mother tongue." Larkin almost smirked at that. he apparently ahd mised home alot, getting all sentimental, out loud even, when he was stone cold sober.

((OOC: Bleh... small talk, small talk, small talk. Also, if this is boring you slytherin, feel free to depart, I don't mind. And whoot to small talk!
[b]Atropa, or Ghanima[b], if its been established where mont-de-marsan is, and I'm way off base, please tell me and I'll fix it))

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Retired Moderator
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#156 Old 7th May 2008 at 1:34 AM
(((ooc: Furry - I can't find the exact source where I got it from now, but the map on this page shows where today's commune is located, which is basically the same area.)))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Top Secret Researcher
#157 Old 7th May 2008 at 1:38 AM
((OOC: Bleh, so if its a marquedom they'd be right on top of each other. Editing now))

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Scholar
#158 Old 7th May 2008 at 3:53 AM
Default Marie-Elisabeth - Wandering the halls
“Indeed” Marie-Elisabeth said, carefully waving away the glass offered to her “There is nothing better than being at home, where one really belongs”. She smiled and tapped the locket around her neck, before picking up the small purse she had carried with her. She then started picking up the neatly stacked piles of coins on the table in front of her and placing them inside it.

“It’s getting quite close to dinner hour isn’t it” she said, placing the last few coins into the bag and pulling the drawstrings closed “I’m afraid that I shall have to beg your leave to prepare for dinner”. She smiled and pushed her chair out slightly before rising from it with the bag looped around one of her slender wrists.

“It has been a pleasure Baron de Aurvilies” she said, curtseying politely “Perhaps I will see you again soon and you can tell me more about this place even more barabaric than England, though I’m still not quite convinced such a land exists”. She smiled and exited the salon without bothering to look at anyone else, as everyone was involved in conversations of their own.

The Red Salon was on the opposite end of the palace to her own suite of rooms, so she started walking through the many halls that led there. She could hear the thunder even through the walls and stopped to look out one of the windows near her rooms once she had gotten close to them. The rain was pelting everything in sight and running down the window panes like small rivers. It made her smile, reminding her of how fond Charles was of splashing around in the river that ran across the great Valois estate. She looked down at her locket and carefully opened it to look at the picture inside.


((OOC: *snicker* If Larkin’s an old fart, what’s Dimitri, a fossil? *snickers some more* EDIT: A thousand pardons, he's a walking fossil. How could I fail to see something so obvious?
And I’m not sure if they had purses exactly like that back then, but oh well.
I was just gonna have her wander back to her rooms to get dressed for dinner eventually, but if anyone wants to run into her and say hello it’s all good She's kinda just standing around right now)))

You can call me Robyn, tis my name after all
SixWordStories
Field Researcher
#159 Old 7th May 2008 at 4:39 AM
Default Dimitri, Charmaine and Christine - Escaping the Red Salon.
((Ahem! Walking fossil, thank you. *harrumphs* [EDIT] All is forgiven. *benignly bequeaths upon you two bones*

Blech post, but I'll not be able to check in the rest of the day, so best to get this out now.

Alissa: Will have to take a raincheck on that one! But it should be... interesting *shifty eyes*))


______

“Have I missed much, Duke?” the brunette asked, taking his hint and following up in English. Despite her age, she seemed very careful to mask how she felt about speaking the foreign tongue; and her movements remained graceful, down to way she held her cognac. It reminded him of the cat once more; where Octavien had been a cat with claws, Christine was the black feline slinking behind a wall.

“Quite.” He paused briefly at the understatement of it all. “You may have heard of Her Highness’ illness in your travels, Duchesse. The funeral was held yesterday. In light of such unfortunate circumstances, Her Majesty the Queen has retired to her family estate to rest herself.”

Dimitri tried to frame it as neutrally as he could, but he knew it was in vain. Whenever a royal couple spent time apart, rumours multiplied like vermin in their wake.

He now found himself standing—having offered the Duchesse his seat—and—of all the odds—in an excellent position to escape. For all his questions and curiosity, this realisation was almost mind-blowing. Then, like the hand of fate itself, a messenger appeared beside him, delivering a note.

He read it quickly before folding the parchment. Curiosity was one thing, but he would at least be able to ask the Baroness herself over dinner about Lord Simon. There was also the matter of the dress…

“If you’ll excuse me, Duchesse, my Lady. Duchesse, I hope we shall meet at a later date. I fear I am quite behind news of Avignon.”

The ladies offered their goodbyes, and Dimitri headed to the exit.

((Not approachable.))
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retired moderator
#160 Old 7th May 2008 at 1:34 PM
Default Octavien & Bella - Grand Ballroom
Judging by the look on the face of the young Baroness, she had a mind sharp enough to register at least some of the weight behind Octavien's mysterious statement, as well as the slight upturn of his lips when that saddened smile stole across his lips. To others, his words might have seemed just some generic statement, or an attempt to say something profound to impress a beautiful lady. But to the Baroness, they seemed to ring true.

"A man with a story to tell," came her hushed voice from across the room, and even though the lacking luminance was dimming by the minute, Octavien could see a curious but pleasant smile widen on her lips.

Though it didn't seem that she intended for him to reply, perhaps realizing that as they were strangers, the time for possible confession was far from ideal. Something for which Octavien was grateful. She might seem open and friendly, and not prone to play games, but Octavien didn't trust her, simply because they had just met a few minutes ago, and he no longer trusted anyone he had not known for years. Perhaps she was playing games? Perhaps she knew exactly who he was, and the story he'd have to tell, but for whatever reason was pretending not to? Lately, there had always been that little voice in the back of his head, nagging that things were never what they appeared to be. He'd had it proven to him over and over and over again for the past couple of days, and even though it was a lesson he had learned a long time ago, when still a child, the intensity of the reminder now had been somewhat overwhelming.
But, he'd be damned if he'd grow so jaded as to stop looking for exceptions.

"I suppose we all have our stories to tell," Bella added as she began moving again after a momentary pause, starting out much like she was floating gracefully to the memory of a tune lingering in the very walls of the room, but ending up being weighed down by a sigh.

It seemed she, too, had moments in her past that she was far more fond of than what the present had to offer. Most everyone did, and Octavien couldn't resist flashing her a small but conceding smile, as if saying she had just taken the words right out of his mouth.

"Perhaps we only cling to the past because we do not know what the future holds for us?", she suggested, turning her gaze back to meet with his.

Something to which Octavien responded with a slight nod in part agreement, and a slight shrug, indicating that he found it to be a plausible explanation. But, and he knew from experience, it was not the ONLY explanation;

"Or perhaps because we know exactly what it holds for us", he offered his own thoughts on the matter, with a certain Spanish Excellency in mind.

He might have agreed to the marriage, but if anyone thought that meant he would have to like it, or that he intended to pretend that he did, they were sadly mistaken. Much like had been the idea with his marriage to Adalita, he would do his duty as a husband, and that was it. He would do no more, no less.

"Ah, but forgive me, Baroness", he said, deciding that time was nigh to pull himself out of the sombre thoughts to which he seemed destined to always return. "I am not providing very pleasant company, am I? Please accept my apologies, and I shall do my best to make amends."

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Alchemist
#161 Old 7th May 2008 at 5:18 PM
César, Joséphine and others - the Red Salon

There were instances when having a vocal, exuberant acquaintance could prove beneficial, even useful, as was the case with the Red Salon performance and Marquise Florence de Magenta. Joséphine was forced to suppress a cunning grin when hearing the Marquise's high pitched voice rising above the general murmur to deliver the news of the composer's identity to the Salon's far corners, punctuated by her usual verbose commentaries on how wondrously intriguing and thrilling it all was. Florence de Magenta could work herself up into a fit of excitement without much encouragement, Joséphine mused wryly, recalling all their past encounters when she had her ear positively chewed off by the Marquise. One had to wonder at how a woman like her had managed to marry three times already, but the typical absence of a husband at her side, some suggested with a smirk, pointed clearly to the fact that they welcomed as much time away from Florence's company as they could get.

All things considered, Joséphine was, for once, thankful for her company. Within fifteen minutes, Octavien went from an anonymous composer to being the name on quite a few lips – just as they had intended. Smiling contentedly to herself, Joséphine was just about to agree to another round of playing cards when César's voice interrupted:

"Now now, Joséphine", he said. "You're giving His Majesty all the credit, when really, it is partly your work as well. The vocals are your own addition, are they not?"

Ah, César...trust him to ensure his wife's talents were not overlooked in any circumstance. He had done it before, and while some might have thought he only wished to boast, Joséphine had to admit it was rather endearing. After all, even the most modest of souls felt the pleasure of being praised, and the young Marquise, despite not being particularly vain, also did not posses a surplus of modesty. Performance anxiety all but forgotten, a smile emerged on her lips as she drew her shoulders together in a slight shrug:

“Granted, that is true” she said, unable to keep a hint of pride from her voice. “A few personal verses that I felt would complement the melody quite nicely. Though it is only a modest addition to a wonderful musical piece.”

Joséphine was an admirer of the arts, and enjoyed poetry as well as prose and music. She had a few notebooks filled with verses and short stories that took shape first as thoughts, compelling to be transcribed upon paper, often overflowing with whatever emotion griped the Marquise's heart at the time. She rarely spoke of it to others however, knowing the general scepticism, if not dismissal, with which women writers were regarded by most.

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
Original Poster
#162 Old 7th May 2008 at 5:40 PM
The sky has darkened in the Palace of Light and air, the storm has not yet subsided but been quelled some what, feel free to go about your movements as were be be warned tomorrow is due in only 4 days time.

((So for those of you who wonder what I'm on.... it's sugar, and i simply meant it is Evening.))
#163 Old 7th May 2008 at 6:35 PM
((ooc;; Sorry I haven't got back to you yet Fayre. French has held me up, a return to school isn't the best thing about getting better ... xP Typing something up now))
Scholar
#164 Old 7th May 2008 at 7:22 PM
Default Bella and Octavien - Grand Ballroom
"Or perhaps because we know exactly what it holds for us,” Octavien replied after an ambiguous gesture at her previous comment. The scare light did favours for him, bathing the soft angles of his face as yet another thoughtful expression began to take hold while he seemed to ponder over his own sentiments.

Bella moved leisurely towards the harpsichord, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with his statement. Perhaps it was what troubled him at present, perhaps his lack of control over his own life. She did agree partially, knowing that she knew part of what her future held for her, some things she would never be able to control. However, the certainty that haunted Octavien’s future, was not a feature of Bella’s outlook. She envied him that. Although, it were as if his future held for him something worse than certainty; entrapment. She had freedom, freedom to do what she wanted, however she wanted. She supposed he would have envied her that.

Her fingers lightly played over the keys in hesitation, remembering the notes she had once so earnestly learnt to please Daddy. She should have really done it more for herself, there was no real point in doing things just to please others. Bella’s fingers finally sank into the keys, bringing the music in her mind to life in a soft, elusively lingering melody that spread obligingly through the waiting hall.

Perhaps it wasn’t knowledge of the future that scared Octavien, perhaps it was acceptance. Bella refused to accept anything without the fair fight, a sentiment Octavien might have once shared. Not anymore. He seemed almost weathered down by his problems. Bella truly had no idea what his predicament was, but it had certainly affected him. She wondered whether someday in the past, he had been like her and whether, someday in the future, she’d become like him.

"Ah, but forgive me, Baroness," Octavien said, displaying a sudden change in spirits as if he had made a deal with himself to no longer indulge in whatever had held him captive. Bella looked up at him, a little stunned at the swift life and vivacity that became him in a moment’s absence. She could feel the engrossed smile that flowed over her lips as she gave him a moment’s awe. "I am not providing very pleasant company, am I? Please accept my apologies, and I shall do my best to make amends."

Bella gave a small laugh of admiration as she glanced back down at her hands playing soft notes on the harpsichord as the full smile played itself out of her control. She shook her head slightly, glancing back up at him.
"No, you are right,” she accepted, giving him the recognition he deserved for his statement. “We do know what the future holds for us; it's what we make of it....”
With that, Bella fleetingly returned her eyes to the harpsichord keys, finding her bearings, deciding to tell him he wasn’t half as appalling company as he would have thought.

“And you underestimate yourself, Monsieur Lehance,” she glanced up at him, giving him the appreciative smile he’d earned for his integrity. Her voice sang out delicately into the hall, warm and gracious in the dimming charity of the cold light. “I confess I find your company to be amongst the finest I’ve enjoyed."

It was true enough; she didn't feel the need to indulge in little games of etiquette with him and he seemed to have no expectation of such behaviour. It was a relief amongst the charade they all had to keep up the rest of the time.

“However, if you insist on making improvements…,” Bella shrugged gracefully, giving a blithe, playful laugh to help him lighten the mood. “I shall do my best to help."

(OOC: I hope that's okay, Atropa. I figured Octavien lightened up at that last sentence so I made it look like he'd actually brightened up?)

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
#165 Old 7th May 2008 at 9:42 PM
Roseline was fiddling with the intricate stitching over the bodice of her, for the most part, plain black dress when a familiar voice roused her from her thoughts, and a small smile flickered over her delicate features as she recognised the older Baroness.

"Baroness Taylor, it has been quite a while since we last spoke." Roseline instantly refreshed her smile at Mercy’s words and her eyes met with the Baroness’s. Mercy had long since gained Roseline’s respect and the woman’s greeting was much appreciated by Roseline, who had realised quite suddenly, probably prompted by Mercy’s ‘reputation’, that there would be wonder from the courtiers at her sudden disappearance and just as unexpected re-arrival to Court, and just as many questions from her maid, Louisa which would most definitely somehow find it’s way around Court.

It was several long moments before Roseline realised that she was standing in a Palace corridor, dripping wet with another, just as soaking Baroness. It would have been funny if Roseline wasn’t so genuinely happy to see another courtier, Baroness Venn’s language reminding her of the fact that she was most definitely away from home now.

“Yes.” Roseline replied, a warm smile crawling back over her lips, “Much too long. I have missed the Court too much being away. I don’t believe that I could leave at all now.” She said truthfully allowing, for a second her gaze to move to the window.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting shadows along the beautiful gardens of the Palace that winter had so cruelly made dormant. Roseline couldn’t wait for the summer to arrive and for the flowers to bloom. Summer was most definitely the best time of the year, and yet it was so slow in arriving this year to Roseline’s bitter disappointment.

Baroness Venn, we must catch up some time. I have had little dignified conversation in my time away and would love to return to it soon.” Roseline said, turning her head back to the Baroness and smiling warmly. It had definitely been too long. Through the talk of her family while she was with them, it would seem as if another child of her mother’s had died in her returning here. Yet, her words to Mercy were truer than ever after she had said them aloud. She no longer felt as close to her family as she once did, obviously never fully accepted, but always loved, Roseline’s time at Court had moved her away from them. Yes, she loved her mother and siblings dearly but no longer did she feel as she once did.

“Yet, I’m afraid of bursting into a monologue – an amazingly boring one that may last the night if you allow me to continue,” Roseline said, once more a warm smile reaching her eyes spread over her features. She curled a strand of hair back up into her up-do as she continued, “How have you been Baroness, I’m afraid I know as much of the going’s on in Court as you know of my own time away, which is, sadly very little.”



((ooc;; Sorry it did take so long Fayre... and if you didn’t want to move on feel free to skip over the last paragraph =]]))
Top Secret Researcher
#166 Old 8th May 2008 at 12:55 AM
Larkin was inexplicably amused when Marie-Elisabeth spoke of the dinner hour coming,a nd went off to get dressed. One thing he had t give Zimbabwe credit for, no over elaborate dining rituals. Then again, the food was not as good, having a tendency to be wretchedly overspiced.

Larkin, seieng as there was nothing important for him to do before dinner, and also seeing that it might not be the wisest idea to sit by himself at a card table, got up to wander the halls. It would take him a grave long while to get used to the sheer opulence of the palace and he did not fool himself into thinking that he fully appreciated the wall carvings. Either that, or the boredom made looking at walls comparitively fascinating. He did not mind either way.

((Approachable))

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Scholar
#167 Old 8th May 2008 at 3:48 AM
Default Marie-Elisabeth
The rain had a funny habit of putting Marie-Elisabeth in a less than pleasant mood. In fact it tended to put her in a downright depressed one. She had been in a good one for most of the day, but the rain had changed that.

She didn't speak very much to her maids upon returning to her rooms, except to point out which dress she had chosen to wear for dinner. It wasn't one of her fanciest, or even one of her nicest, but it suited her mood at the moment. She basically stood stock still unless she had to move an arm or turn her head while they undressed and re dressed her for dinner.

She had never been very fond of rain, always preferring days when it was bright and sunny. Rain seemed to accompany every sad or depressing event in her life with startling regularity. The rain had been pelting the windows of the playroom when a 10 year old Marie-Elisabeth and her only younger sibling Maximilian had been told that their father had just passed away. It had been raining again two years later when she had been summonded to her mother's study and been told she was to marry the Comte de Valois the following year. And it had also been raining three years ago when had been forced to go and tell a 3 year old boy tha his father was gone.

The maids informed her that they were done and she muttered her thanks before slipping her feet into her shoes and walking out the door. She walked quietly down the halls to the Dining Room, and just as quietly took a seat at one of the tables once she got there.


(((OOC: Approachable, just sitting around waiting for dinner)))

You can call me Robyn, tis my name after all
SixWordStories
Original Poster
#168 Old 8th May 2008 at 7:02 AM
"I am fairing very well, I do not know what it is but something keeps me in a brilliant mood as of late," Mercy smiled it was nice to find people who take a genuine interest. "The court of course has chaned slightly with the Princess' funeral and of course the Queens' holiday." Mercy paused the bells were rining in the clock tower. "This may seems rather cliche of me, but I'm actually due to meet someone for dinner, though perhaps you would do me the pleasure, Baroness of joining me for breakfast, then we can truley get re-aquainted. Mercy waited for a reply before backing away from the Baroness with a small bow and a bright smile.

Once round a corner Mercy began to hurry, she really did need to clean up if se were to have dinner with Dimitri, she assumed as she had, foolishly, left no time or place on her note he would arrive at her suite to collect her and there was no way she could do that dressed as she was, she had had every intention of wearing her blue dress, freshly repaired and smelling beautiful from some sort of dressmakers treatment. It was whilst she was trying to find her second matching pair of shoes, afterall she had lost one to a reasonable cause, she stumble across her red dress, it was a velvet affair in a deep red, and whilst the time was late she was drawn to it tonight.

Mercy slipped into the dress, which was much more snug than she had last remembered it, she had located the matcfhing shoes in an instant, and fixing her hair with a few starnds hanging down by her face, and an unknown red flower to once side she stood back and smiled. She pressumably would not have to wait long for her gentleman companion for this evening to arrive.

((Sorry funheart I doubled booked darling Mercy but she would love to have breakfast with Roseline... and Seiza, lets hope Dimitri can locate her shall we :P))
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retired moderator
#169 Old 8th May 2008 at 7:24 AM
Default Octavien & Bella - Grand ballroom
Had there been an audience witnessing the encounter between the young Prince and the even younger Baroness in the Grand Ballroom, the onlookers might have found themselves somewhat amused when in a matter of seconds but for very different reasons, slight surprise had spilled across both of their faces. The Baroness, apparently pleasantly surprised by Octavien's transformation from brooding thinker to somewhat more vivacious and youthful gentleman, and Octavien by the softly flowing melody unexpectedly brought forth from the piano by the Baroness' deft fingers. It wasn't the fact that she could play that surprised him - any accomplished lady would have been taught how to play at least one instrument properly - but rather the fact that she chose to, considering where she was, with whom she was, and what the topic was; the deserted and dimly lit Grand Ballroom of the Palace of Light and Air, with a man she did not know, talking about a matter that was clearly not the cause of particularly pleasant thoughts. By him, nor by her.

Though upon a closer inspection of the expression on her face as her fingers gently stroked the keys, it seemed to Octavien that she too had temporarily lost herself to memories and private ponderings, making it her turn to be roused from them by the sound of her company's voice.

A pleasantly soft laugh pushed past her lips then, as her eyes alternated between looking at him and at the keys underneath her hands, which were still producing that elusive melody. He didn't recognize it as something he had heard before, but there was a certain familiarity in it's element; something that appealed to him, that reminded him of the melodies that would come to him when he himself sat down by the harpsichord, and let his hands roam freely, with a will of their own. A soft, dreamy piece that would soothe the mind, no matter what turbulence might have been raging inside, only to change suddenly, throwing the listener into an intense crescendo of emotions turned music.
Although the part of the melody that the Baroness played remained peacefully flowing, Octavien could still hear the subtle promises of such intensity building underneath the surface, threads of what the rest of the melody might sound like weaving themselves through his mind.

Such a piece required true passion, not just to compose, but to play the way the Baroness did; with understanding of it's soul, of it's very being. For there were indeed wonderful works of music that had ceased to be 'just' music, and had turned into enteties themselves. Not living, nor breathing, but still enteties that needed to be understood in order for the musician to successfully present their beauty.
The Baroness Devine, much to Octavien's delight, seemed to be one such person.

"No, you are right", she smiled in response to his comment regarding the future, as apparently his rousing her from her thoughts had brough her back to the brief discussion that had preceded his apology. "We do know what the future holds for us; it's what we make of it..."

True in many ways, he had to admit. But never, ever so very simple. There were always factors, always things to be considered and taken into account, sometimes even circumstances one could not change, either because they were simply unchangable, or because one could not afford to try. As would be the case with Octavien's impending marriage to Her Exellency Elena whatever-it-was. Octavien was intelligent enough to realize that regardless of whether he liked it or not, his purpose at the moment, was that of a bargaining tool; something to be traded - in a manner of speaking - to secure a truce and an alliance between two nations. The fact that he was also a person mattered little, and so if he was to refuse to marry Her Exellency, he would've most likely been considered an inconvenience, something that had outlived it's usefulness. And what did one do with things one had no use for anymore? One either threw them away, or stored them away, in a place where in time they would be completely forgotten.
And that was a fate Octavien was not yet ready to accept. He would fight, but he would do it in his own way; a way far more subtle that simply digging his heels into the ground to make a fuss. And far more efficent.

"And you underestimate yourself, Monsieur Lahance", Bella continued, and flashed him a rather endearing smile. "I confess I find your company to be amongst the finest I've had."

My my, that was quite a compliment. Not one to be taken lightly, even if it was an exaggeration. Which, judging by the sincerity both in her voice and in her smile, it was not. Though no sooner had the thought entered his mind, than came the nagging voice in the back of his head again, insisting that looks could be decieving. Had it not been the case with most people lately, hmmmm?

For once, however, Octavien ordered the voice to shut the h*ll up. Having a little faith in people had proved a disappointing experience - Adalita, Mercy, Dimitri, all prime examples - but it had hardly proved a lethal one. And what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, and blah blah blah.
It was worth a shot.

"However", the young Baroness concluded, giving another jovial laugh, which along with her previous ones was starting to brighten Octavien's mood, though granted it was a mood that had not been quite as sombre as it had been for the most part lately, "if you insist on making improvements... Who am I to stand in your way?"

At that, anyone looking closely would have seen how Octavien halted in his idle motions, just for a moment, and how his eyes then narrowed slightly as a thought suddenly occured to him. His reasons for coming down here in the first place, had been mainly to find César and Joséphine and suggest the three of them got away from the Palace, just for a little while... But turning away the Baroness now, when she had been such pleasant company, was something he didn't much feel like doing. And, she obviously did have a love for music that was quite similar to his...

"Indeed", he said with a slight smile. "I do believe it would be far more pleasant to have you accompany me on the way, rather than to have you stand in it."

With that, he motioned for the open doors, indicating that he intended to take his leave of the room, but not necessarily of her, if she would be so kind as to follow his lead.

"There is a new opera opening in Paris tonight, you see", he continued once she was by his side and they exited the Grand Ballroom together. "I was on my way to suggest to a few friends that we attend. Perhaps you would do us the honor of joining us?"


(((ooc: Okay, I feel I have to comment the above post; considering the fact that Octavien is now pretty much engaged to be married again, only the day after his wife's funeral, and he hasn't been reflecting that it is too soon (nor has any other character, as far as I can see), I'm assuming the mourning period is considered over (I believe it might even have been hinted in one of Fayre's posts that it is?). He would never, EVER go to the opera if he was supposed to still be in mourning. So, I would appreciate it if he was not shot in the back over this opera thing, because it is not my intention to have him doing something wrong. In this case, at least.

And also, Alissa, I took the liberty of having Bella walk over to him to leave the room with him, but if you don't want her to do thatm let me know, and I'll edit accordingly.)))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Field Researcher
#170 Old 8th May 2008 at 7:40 AM
Default Dimitri >>> Mercy's Suite
((Ghanima: ‘the typical absence of a husband at her side, some suggested with a smirk, pointed clearly to the fact that they welcomed as much time away from Florence's company as they could get.’

:laugh: ))


______

He only stopped by the de la Vallière’s table briefly, congratulating the Marquise Mont-de-Marsan on her recital, and bidding the Marquise de Magenta good evening. As he left the salon, he felt Florence watching his exit. For a moment, Dimitri wondered if she had been expecting him to stay with her the whole evening. Granted, neither had agreed explicitly if they were leaving together, but sometimes women just assumed… He nonetheless reassured himself with the thought that she was among her friends, and she would not be leaving alone.

He never had liked the Red Salon. The décor might have been different from his youth, but the scarlet theme affected his nerves too much.

He entered his empty suite, except for a manservant left to tend things while Rukov rode out… and hadn’t returned. The storm was just beginning to ebb; at this rate, he would be lucky to reach the Palace before moonrise. Dimitri did not expect his aid to ride back in the storm; he was, however, annoyed at the weather.

Then he remembered why he was annoyed at all. At worst, the package would arrive tomorrow. There was, really, no good reason for him to be in such bad spirits. Particularly just before meeting a noblewoman.

The note hadn’t specified where they would be dining. Dimitri picked a dark blue ensemble, one that wouldn’t appear over or under-dressed in most occasions. And then, as with any dealings with women, he cast his hopes to the fates, and headed to the west wing.

Specifically, he hoped she hadn’t expected him to know exactly where to meet her. Just in case, he checked with the guards by the Dining Room: no, they did not believe Baroness Venn had arrived. The next best guess—the uncooperative weather greatly limited one’s dining options—was that she awaited him at her suite.

Dimitri retraced the path he had once used, escorting the wounded Baroness after her near-accident. There was the painting. There was the name plaque. He knocked.

_____

((Fayre: I read Mercy’s note and my first thought was: “Wow, she’s got a LOT of faith in Dimitri to guess the meeting place”! Oh, I remember something about Mercy requesting a new name plaque for her room, but I wasn’t sure if it’s been changed from “Flight” to “Venn”. And if you don’t know something, best to not mention it. :D

Finally, I might not get to reply quickly-- one exam tomorrow, then frantic packing, then a 5-hour drive home. (So Mercy could've actually spent some time with Rosaline... sorry I didn't specify sooner >_<) I'll try to check in by tonight, though!

Oh, and feel free to have Dimitri announce his arrival ))
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retired moderator
#171 Old 8th May 2008 at 3:15 PM
Quote: Originally posted by Seiza
((Ghanima: ‘the typical absence of a husband at her side, some suggested with a smirk, pointed clearly to the fact that they welcomed as much time away from Florence's company as they could get.’

:laugh: ))




(((ooc: :laugh: indeed! I love your way with words, Ghanima. I truly do.
And, is it just me, or is our dear Duc getting old? A large part of the Salon, the center of it being the very one he stopped by on his way out, is literally buzzing with the latest rumour, and the ever perceptive Duc doesn't even notice. Or could it be that he's distracted by the thoughts of a certain Baroness? *lol* Ah, how I adore these characters.)))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Original Poster
#172 Old 8th May 2008 at 4:21 PM
((Oh well If funheart doesn't mind then breakfast will be a much better (and drier) time to talk and as for you exams come first so i may just be irritated if you do respond.... work out how to deal with that one Seiza!!!

Ghanima I wont use the same laughing emote as everyone else.... but wonderfully witty :D))

A knock, a strong authoritative knock yet one that gave a lady the respect she deserved, the Duc d'Lorraine it seemed gave an excellent good first impression unless of course he happened to strike you with the broad side of a carriage. I which case the charm was slightly, but not entirely, diminished. Mercy paused temporarily to concider that first encounter, or incident as it should probably be called. She smiled but she was keeping Dimitri waiting.

Mercy looked herself over, she'd do, it was only dinner after all, and actually it was dinner on the pretext of business, and therefore with Dimitri being the man of morals and codes of conduct she would have to make fun happen if she wished it to, and she did, for both their sakes. She collected a small red fan with black lace around its edges it was rather garrish when opened, but she would choose not to she also picked up a large stiff cream envelope in truth the bill for her dress had come in a much smaller white one but that did not seem as grand and a grand gesture was how she planned to start this evenings entertainment, the handwriting on the enveleope was large and loopy, it simply read, Dimitri.

Having made him wait abotu 20 seconds for response she opened the door and slipped outside, she closed it behind her, handed Dimitri the Envelope and took three and a half passes in front of him before turning her head, smiling, and offering the man her arm. Let the games begin she thought.
#173 Old 8th May 2008 at 6:40 PM
((ooc;; It's fine Fayre. I'm pretty sure Roseline wouldn't mind waiting until she was dry either.

Plus, Atropa I've got to agree. They're adorable and hilarious.. aw sweet courtiers ;]]))
Alchemist
#174 Old 8th May 2008 at 8:05 PM
((ooc: *snort* blame Seiza, she offered the perfect fodder for that rumour mill xD But thank you I am seriously having fun with these cooky nobles.))

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
Scholar
#175 Old 8th May 2008 at 8:25 PM
Default Octavien and Bella - Leaving the Grand Ballroom
(OOC: Ghanima, I do love your way with words. In fact, most of you guys here put me to shame!
And yup Atropa, I love these characters and their interactions, they're so endearing and Cesar and Jo, SO cute! Dimitri almost ran over Mercy? Lol, I never thought he had it in him!)


She realised he’d been staring slightly, not at her. Bella wasn’t sure if he had been staring at anything tangible, just the notes pouring through the air faintly and they wove into each other while new resonances took the place of the old. Octavien seemed pleased and oddly absorbed into it, as if he were drinking in every undertone. She wondered if he saw it the way she did, that every note was a word in a story being told in a universal idiom.

Bella felt his eyes narrow onto her, as if an idea flickered behind Octavien’s glassy eyes considering his options on what to do. The sudden light of the conversation had brought an ethereal beauty and appeal to his eyes as he finally put the though to rest through to decision.

"Indeed," he let a small smile sparkle over his mouth as the expression of contemplation faded away. "I do believe it would be far more pleasant to have you accompany me on the way, rather than to have you stand in it."

Bella was used to compliments being thrown her way, most of them insincere and hollow. However, this was not really a compliment, just an observation and yet somehow more flattering than most of the things she’d had said to her, simply because it was probably honest. For all her underlying suspicions of Octavien, Bella found ease in the company of a complete stranger, finally feeling free to be herself in a long time.

She hated the restrictions of society, though she usually conformed to them, she hated them with passion. It was a necessary evil, but it’d managed to strip away what humanity nobles were capable of. Worse yet, it excused elitist, conceited behaviour and even encouraged it. Bella herself, with all her charms and decorum, was capable of it. It held even her prisoner at times. It was a feature she was not proud of, but reluctantly glad about for the simple reason it was the only way out sometimes. It helped her when she needed it the most, but she made sure never to flaunt it.

She let her gaze return to him as she leaned slightly against the harpsichord waiting for him to continue as it appeared he might. He gracefully motioned to the doors, making his way towards them, his eyes still poised on her. Bella wondered for a brief moment whether Octavien had simply had enough and decided to take leave. However, his eyes spoke differently, wanting to continue with her company for a while longer at least. Bella slowly walked over to him, exiting the great hall once by his side.

"There is a new opera opening in Paris tonight, you see,” he began with intention as Bella turned her eyes to him in anticipation of what he had to say regarding it. "I was on my way to suggest to a few friends that we attend. Perhaps you would do us the honor of joining us?"

She was surprised to say the least, but pleasantly so. Before she knew it, a subtle, delighted laugh escaped her lips. Opera. She did not know how to respond for a moment, taken back and flattered that he’d enjoyed her company enough thus far to request more of it. Especially since she’d only been herself, more so than any other time she had been at court. Maybe he really was as blasé as she’d hoped; kindred spirits of her kind were a valued scarcity. However, the thought that he was playing her for a fool continued to dig at her, silently at the back of her mind as she chose to pay no heed to it. She would be careful, but she wasn't going to let her paranoia rule her.

“I would love to,” Bella graciously accepted with a gentle smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

She continued to walk with Octavien, her eyes flickering occasionally to the window, watching the abating storm, glorious in its determination. She could feel the dress sweep around her as she walked, the silk moulding into place with every step and every curve. The fading light played it’s last tricks on the hallway, rising and falling through every crevice it could find. Bella found herself losing to thought again, as the fingers of one hand drew soft, elaborate designs over the back of the other hand while it rested over her front.

“I have a confession to make,” she turned back to Octavien, bravely deciding to spill her secret regardless of what he chose to think of it. “I have never been to opera.”

She gave a small, self-conscious laugh, flicking her eyes back to the window as she chose to follow up her candid admission with the explanation it deserved before he could have the chance to react.

“I mean, I have always wanted to,” she turned back to him with a nod, unsure of how to explain that indulging in her love of the music and arts had not included opera thus far. She wondered whether his estimation of her had dropped several levels, but it did not perturb her as much as it could have done if he were someone else. Bella decided he wasn’t the person to delve into pretentiousness with, this was one of the few with whom she could act naturally. “The opportunity simply never arose. Well, until now, of course.”

(OOC: Atropa, I hope it's okay that I kept them walking for a short while after they left the room? If that's not what you had in mind, just let me know and I'll edit )

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
 
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