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Field Researcher
#101 Old 4th May 2008 at 6:28 AM
Default Dimitri >>> Red Salon
The time between leaving the Prince and bidding farewell to the Queen was short, but Dimitri’s quill flew swiftly across his papers. The ink on the first page barely dried in time for the next. The marriage to the Lady Elena had removed that morning’s mental wall, spawning a frivolous letter about the weather and horses and bland observations about the political situation within and without France; but the thawing frost referred to the most recent events in the Palace, and general remarks about the English masked a few careful requests.

Then there was the farewell.

Many women stepped forward with well-wishes for the Queen, filling almost half of the accompanying carriages with their little gifts. Isabella, quiet and pale, received them as gracefully as always. Dimitri recognised in the eyes of the older courtiers what he himself was seeing: a re-enactment of the sombre farewell of the first Queen. Although one was significantly more alive than the other, the present mood rivalled the first in its sobriety.

As the last of the carriages disappeared through the gates, a light dampness hovered in the air. The assembled party returned to the Palace; heavier clouds gathered in their wake. Rukov, who had been helping with the departure, was sent off with the letters. Several courtiers lingered, surrounding the King with their own well-wishes, but the Prince was nowhere to be seen. Dimitri stayed in the back, in that moment everyone encountered of having too much to do but not knowing what to do with himself.

God seemed to decide for him; two fingers plucked at the sleeve of his coat with such certain familiarity, he did not even have the chance to feel indignant. The Marquise Florence de Magenta smiled back at him. Her lips curved sharply. “My dear Duc, don’t you look thoughtful!”

“It is a fitting expression if there ever was one, for thinking to oneself.”

“It’s a lonely pastime if there ever was one, thinking to oneself,” she countered, not thinking twice to grasp his unoffered arm. “None of that now, none of that! Her Majesty shall return shortly, and I’ll not have her return to a dour Court full of thinking-to-themselvers. Now, there’s a performance at…”

She was almost dragging him to the Red Salon. Rather than any noble intention to preserve the gaiety of the Court, Dimitri suspected it was so she would not have to enter alone.

He unwound himself from her iron grip, properly offering to escort her to her companions. Florence arranged a stray golden curl, unperturbed; but her smile softened minutely. Their first meeting had been so many Christmases ago. She was the sort of woman who outlived all her husbands—she was more than a decade Dimitri’s junior, but the current Marquis de Magenta was already her third. He never saw them together.

Dimitri supposed there were days when she, too, appreciated a gentlemanly gesture.

All he had time to realise, upon entering the Red Salon, was that the performance was over. Undaunted and boisterous, Florence immediately appeared at the side of a young lady—and, being attached to her via his arm, so did he. The card game seemed to have taken a short pause, the participants watching a certain young man and woman curiously.

The Marquis de Mont-de-Marsan.

Even if the chances of another meeting were high in this enclosed Palace, Dimitri nonetheless thought it amusing that it should happen so soon.

The Marquise—he recognised from their arrival—seemed on the verge of speaking, but was distracted by their arrival. As Florence chatted up a storm beside him, the Duc greeted the seated players simply, not wishing to intrude upon the Marquise’s conversation any further.


((Approachable, just walk up to him. Or catch his eye. Or something. XD

Anyone: Florence is a NPC so feel free to manipulate her how you want. I was thinking she might know César and Jo, being from the same rank. Maybe she's distantly related to one of César's "conquests" Seriously, I left most of her unexplained; build up her background how you will, if you will, I'll go with the flow.))


______

((FP & Alissa: I dunno why, I keep thinking "OMG Bella's molesting him wif her eyeysss!!11!"

Atropa: I used to get the plug-in error (something about Quicktime needing to update, and if I forcibly closed the window, all my IE browsers would close along with it) but... not anymore. Now the page loads fine.

Ghanima: That's awesome. Can't wait to see what happens with our one-eyed Spaniard!))
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Original Poster
#102 Old 4th May 2008 at 12:16 PM
((Slytherin Girl i'm sorry for being so slow, but with a bank holiday tomorrow you can be confident in the knowledge you will not have to wait too much longer.))

Charmaine de Mollier was tired, not physically or emotionally but simply of being quiet, it was not a particularly strong trait of hers. it was therefore with strong intentions she set out on a walk, trying to locate someone with whom she could share a conversation, someone who had some ease at speaking her own language, she prowled the ground floor of the Palace, but as she genmuinely seemed to find nought but slack-jawed lolly-gaggers and mere servants she chose to examine the public rooms of the court, it wass not the right time for a meal, so she decided on a salon, but when it came to chose between bleu or rouge she chose rouge because bleu sounded a bit.... bleh.

She had a footman open the door for her, and scanned the room, various people were scattered around, pretty young women with no doubt more money than brains, fine young looking gentleman and a man of a more respectable and advanced age whom she approached at a distance, before realising that he seemed familiar from a family party than Michael had dragged her too, she had been particularly dis-interested in that party as her brother Lord Simon was having a glorious party as well and it would have been a chance to gloat her new found fortune overher sisters and various other select family memebers particualry her italian cousin.

"Good day, dear Duke," Charmaine spoke in English and in an English accent and gave a mild smile to the the Duc d'Lorraine, Charmaine wondered if the man had the memory to remember her, after all they had only met once, and she believed she had spoken, for the most part, about gardening.
Scholar
#103 Old 4th May 2008 at 12:50 PM
(OOC: Larkin is being a little pervy, but hey, Bella is asking for it. Plus, she does act like a complete idiot at times to see what people do. Poor Dimitri and Octavien, there's just no winning between the two of them! Oooh, revenge against the Baron. Hmm, you might actually achieve that more by teaming up with Bella - if you offer her the right incentive - rather than against. It's a dysfunctional family at the best of times )


"Of course it is a pleasure Baroness, I do try my humble best. And of course in the flesh, how else might I be?" he'd breathed onto her hand before using his eyes to entice her.

The aloof Larkin had certainly become very interested in Bella at the drop of a hat, making her very wary.

Did he actually expect her to go weak at the knees? Seriously?

Bella had carefully controlled the degree of charm to use on Larkin to incite the response she wanted and this was slightly beyond what she required. The poor Baron had either been completely deprived of female company of late or he wanted to play a game of cat and mouse with her. Bella decided it was a mixture of both. Dear Larkin had failed to realise that Bella, though her father's daughter, was not Ashton.

His eyes spoke of badly hidden desire, not uncommon amongst men with young girls at attention. However, he was certainly unnerved by her lack of response for a few seconds after learning his name. Angry, even.

It was a good thing, Bella decided. Emotion, in most men, clouded the ability to think and she'd rather have Larkin emotionally driven than by thought. However, anger, whilst beneficial in it's mild form, was not desired in excess.
While all this flicked instantaneously through her mind as he rose from his gallant gesture, Bella resolved to switch a different tone with Larkin.

Baron d'Aurvilies. If Bella had done little to find information regarding the state of affairs at the court where she was arriving, she would not have known the relationship between Juliet - and indeed Queen Isabella and late Princess - and Larkin. However, Bella, being Bella, simply couldn't help herself.
She softly caught his lingering hand and looked into his eyes with a deep penetrating gaze.

"Please accept my condolences over the late Princess Adalita," Bella almost whispered tenderly, while her fingers traced slowly and delicately over course the palm of his hand from wrist to fingers where her hand released his. It was deliberate but sublte enough to linger in the mind as an enigma.
As soon as she'd released his hand, Bella stepped back slightly and glanced up at the Baron with inquisitive eyes, laced with admiration.

"I hear you have travelled the better part of the world?" Bella let the corners of her mouth turn up lightly as a small smile began to play over it. "Lived in Zimbabwe, in fact. How very... exotic."
"You must tell me all about it," Bella asked in what was almost a hushed voice, letting the smile play out fully over her face.

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
Top Secret Researcher
#104 Old 4th May 2008 at 3:09 PM
((OOC: Fay: I would much appreciate an updated charachter list/map, too... so confuzzling! So thanks for taking care of that!

Seiza: LOL. I don't think that either one of them is being molested, but LOL nonetheless. [caps said for the sake of caps, not because its an abbreviation]))


Larkin did not allow his warm, somewhat lecherous expression to slip, in its way it was just as much a mask as his glassy stare. Underneath of the somewhat revealing mask he was bringing himself to heel, by force if needed. The rational part of him was thoroughly amused, he had been close to taking advantage of a noblewoman, and had not been looking at any of the consequences of that, her comparitive lack of status or no. That rational part of his mind was warning him to leave now, before he did something stupid. Something else stupid, make that.

Faster than Larkin was nescessarily equipped to handle, Bella had caught his hand as it retreated from hers, and was tracing slow sensuous patterns over it. His mask did not slip, even though he would not deny that he was enjoying the situation very much. Bella most certaintly did not need to know that. The entire situation diffused itself quite nicely however, when she purred, "Please accept my condolences over the late Princess Adalita."

Well there was a mood breaker if ever he saw one! Lust... lust... dead step neice... and then expectation of more lust? Amusement won out over anything else, and he had to struggle not to laugh. Yes, Adalita's death had been sad, and yes, it had forced him to return to court much earlier than he had planned. However he hadn't seen the girl in person since she was six, and had been woefully unimpressed when he had. That may have had more to do with the fact that at 19 he had a rod up his ass towards anyone much different in age from him, but time had not deleted the impression to replace it with suitably paternal feelings. A rather poorly thought move on her part.

She released his hand and he snapped it down to his side with almost military precision. Having decided to stop teasing her he could not help but be alarmed by her continuing to do so, and it was difficult enough keeping already high levels of arousal down. The girl's words painted her as an idiot, but Larkin had never been opposed to finding a use for idiot women.

She stepped back slightly, and let her expression take on an admiring cast, complete with a small smile. "I hear you have travelled the better part of the world? Lived in Zimbabwe, in fact. How very... exotic."

The better part of the world? Hardly, Zimbabwe, Nigeria and France, and that was about it. Zimbabwe, exotic? Not after living there for more than a decade. Her skills at flirtation, so far as Larkin could see, left much to be desired. She started to walk off, and Larkin was relieved, even if he should be a bit offended that she had walked off with nary a farewell.

It seemed he had jumped to a wrong conclusion however, she merely turned so as to be walking around him, and purred, "You must tell me all about it." A much larger smile was developing on hr face, maybe it was even sincere, but Larkin wanted out and she had just given him a path to it. He couldn't resist taking the opportunity to possibly scare the child a little. Larkin d'Marius was an honorable man, and would not do anything very ethically repugnant, but then again, no one here knew anything about him, or so it seemed. He could use that to his advantage.

His eyes had followed her deliberate circling, and she stopped in front of him looking satisfied. She seemed to be expecting a reaction, a rise, something, and Larkin did not disappoint. He let his hand gently travel over the sleeve of her gown and the bit of exposed wrist there, and then said softly, "I'd be delighted to tell you all about it. Mayhaps I will look you up in your suite tonight... and we can discuss Zimbabwe... and other things." His hand trailed down her arm to kiss her hand again, and then he dropped it like a dead fish and turned around with nary another word to stride crisply away down the hall. He was still in earshot if she were to call after him.

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Scholar
#105 Old 4th May 2008 at 4:02 PM
"I'd be delighted to tell you all about it. Mayhaps I will look you up in your suite tonight... and we can discuss Zimbabwe... and other things."

What?! No. Seriously. What?! Bella was a little stunned - even worried - at Larkin's forwardness. He'd met her all of five minutes ago. Was this man usually this letcherous?

So, her attempts to change the tone by bringing up his neice had backfired, to say the least. Men. Larkin d'Marius, in particular.

Bella was frankly disgusted. Her shock had extended to a point where she hadn't realised when he'd picked up her hand and kissed it once again, before he retreated slowly away from her shocked form.

"I wouldn't flatter yourself, Baron," Bella scoffed quietly to herself as his form began to disappear down the hallway. Before Larkin could change his mind, she turned and walked briskly down the hallway towards the Court Accountant.

She finally found the room, after some mild searching. At the door, Bella brushed her dress down before knocking and then entering when prompted.
Bella walked softly across the room and sat down elegantly by the desk opposite the young accountant.
"Good afternoon," she smiled ernestly. "I trust you are well."
"Very well, thank you," he replied. "And yourself?"
"Quite alright, thank you," Bella answered. "All but a requirement of 20,000 livres, a problem with which I hope you could help me?"
She then sat in wait for the response, nervous as to what the outcome might be.



(OOC: All I have to say if light of that the weirdness between Bella and Larkin is )

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
Scholar
#106 Old 4th May 2008 at 4:41 PM
Default Marie-Elisabeth - La Salon Rouge
Marie-Elisabeth had been roaming the halls for quite some time and boredom was bginning to take its toll upon her. Certainly there were lovely works of art everywhere, and the sculptures alone were enough to keep one busy for days at a time, but there was only so much she could really take in at once.

So she decided to make her way to the Red Salon instead on continuing her roaming, having seen and heard several people planning on heading in that direction on her travels.

Stepping into the room she indeed found quite a few of the couriters in there already. Immediately she could see the Duc d'Lorraine standing with a blond woman and another brunette woman, who happened to be speaking English. Being about as fond of the English as she was of wearing mourning clothes, she started looking around at the other faces in the room.

Her gaze then landed on the Marquis and Marquise de la Valliére, and immediately flickered away. She really had no wish to repeat the awkwardness of last night, regardless of how bored she might have been. She knew quite well that the Marquise disliked her, and knew what those reasons were. Marie-Elisabeth didn't particularly care about earning the woman's dislike, she just prefered not to cause scenes where they weren't needed. After all, it was the Marquis's opinion that mattered.

She settled for walking by them towards the card tables, and joining one of the games in progress.




(((OOC: Approachable I figured why not come join the party I'm just roaming the halls anyway.
*snicker*Alissa, If she thinks that's naughty she should have heard Marie-Elisabeth and Cesar the other day. Now THAT was a most....amusing conversation.And yay to getting a map. I figured that Marie-Elisabeth was actually closest to getting the advisor spot, which made me laugh because it really just didn't seem right!!))

You can call me Robyn, tis my name after all
SixWordStories
Top Secret Researcher
#107 Old 4th May 2008 at 6:06 PM
Larkin was able to find his suite by asking a servant who was walking by, and he was directed to a suite clear across the palace from where he was standing. A bit of a hike later- the palace was huge- he arrived and found all of his luggage neatly unpakced into the closets. The suite had an elegant writing desk, gloriously plushy carpet, and, what Larkin had been most looking forward to- a featherbed. He was not ungrateful to the Zimbabwens, but the fact of the matter was a wheat chaff stuffed matress could not compare to the sensuous delight of a feather bed.

Larkin flopped onto said matress and was quite content to stay there all afternoon, but the twin pulls of duty and confining court finery drew him to the writing desk where there was already a prepared bottle of ink, numerous writing implements and a stack of crisp blank parchment. The only bit of business he had of import was a letter to his steward, informing the man that relations with the Devine Barony might deteriorate if Bella decided to be snotty and so command her steward. He also told him that he had returned to France, so if any of his old clothing might still fit to have it sent, as his wardrobe was sadly lacking. Only two full outfits of court finery, and few other things he could wear elsewhere. He dripped red sealing wax onto the parchment and stamped it with the Aurvilies seal- a dog beneath a sheaf of wheat.

That taken care of, Larkin wandered out into the great hall, where apparently he had missed Juliet and Isabella's departure. He was not too upset by that, but he had hoped to at least seem the devoted uncle. He shrugged, it did not matter overmuch.

Wandering along he caught a few bars of music wafting from a large room, the red salon, if he remebered the layout of the palace correctly. There were several people playing cards, and Larkin shot a small smile and polite greetings at them before waiting for them to finish their game so as to deal him in. He didn't really recognize any of them, and the occasional detailed geneaologies his steward had provided did nothing to help matters. He had nowhere better to be, eventually someone would introduce themself, or call someone by name, or give him some such thing to go by.

((OOC: So he's Sitting with Marie-Elisabeth, and not at all adverse to chatting))

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Scholar
#108 Old 4th May 2008 at 8:33 PM
Hope there's space for one more!
Name: Christine Du Fontaine
Title: Duchesse D'Avingnon
Age: 20
Bio:
Christine is rather reserved, quiet and observant. Christine was brought up by a strict mother who cared little about anything other than money and society. From a young age, due to her lack of siblings, she was trained to be the best that she could be at anything - at any cost. However, while she grew more shrewd, sharp and diplomatic, she became cold and snobbish.
With the recent, tragic loss of her parents, she has become solely responsible for her fortune and therefore seeks to strengthen her position by becoming the King's advisor, knowing that she would be more than excellent at it.
She is intimidating, authoritative and ambitious to a frightening degree.
Picture:

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
Scholar
#109 Old 4th May 2008 at 8:39 PM
Default Marie-Elisabeth - La Salon Rouge
Marie-Elisabeth was a very good card player. With such an extraordinary ability to keep her emotions in check, this was hardly a surprising fact. She had won a small fortune from her siblings before she had been married and after a while they had all refused to play with her.

As had most of Charles' freinds, after they had discovered how good she was. So when she sat down to play cards with the other people at the table, she had taken great pleasure in relieving them of most of their money. Of the 3 other players at the table, only two of them had decided to remain afterwards. The fourth, a woman Marie-Elisabeth suspected was about 3 times her age had shot her a snooty look and left. Marie-Elisabeth had giggled at that, having had all of said woman's money gathered in a pile with her gloved hand resting atop it.

She glanced around to see if there was anyone else interested in playing, as they needed a fourth to continue on. She spotted a man who had just entered the Salon and appeared to be looking for something to do. "Monsieur" she said, smiling and looking over at him "Would you like to join us? We need a fourth to keep playing".


(((OOC: Talking to Larkin )))

You can call me Robyn, tis my name after all
SixWordStories
Alchemist
#110 Old 4th May 2008 at 8:43 PM
((ooc: Hey guys, I just got home, sorry to keep everyone in the Salon waiting for Josephine's reply I will have something written tomorrow morning, I'm dead tired now >.>))

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
Retired Moderator
retired moderator
#111 Old 4th May 2008 at 9:20 PM
(((ooc: Ghanima - No worries.

Also, everyone, I know there's stuff for César to respond to here, and I just want you guys to know I'm not ignoring it, I just want to give Ghanima a fair chance to reply, so that she doesn't get left behind. )))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Top Secret Researcher
#112 Old 4th May 2008 at 9:20 PM
((OOC: Atropa, I'm acting under the assumption, and slytherin can correct me if I'm wrong, that marie elisabeth has been playing cards, larkin walks in and sits down [since he was waiting to be approached I wasn't specific in the OOC as to who he was sitting with {hence question mark}], and then Marie Elisabeth asks if he wants to join them. I think.))
Larkin was pleasantly surprised that almost as soon as he sat down one of the women at the table said, "Monsieur, Would you like to join us? We need a fourth to keep playing".

He returned her smile perfectly cheerfully and answered, "Mademoiselle, I'd be delighted to." She was the dealer, and gave him a hand of five cards, while everyone else still had thier prior hand, but he didn't comment. His English freind from Zimbabwe had taught him the game, but maybe it was just an English custom to deal in a circle as opposed to all in one go.

He had gotten a perfectly excellent hand- a full house, queens and jacks. How appropriate. Larkin knew full well that keeping a perfectly expressionless face was not a wise move when gambling, unfortunately he was not quite so accomplished a courtier as to keep an appropriate expression. So he usually overcompensated by overacting. Blatantly. And sincerely, as no one ever expected a person to be quite so honest when gambling.

So he shuffled his cards into a different order, paused dramatically and grinned widely and transparently. He dug into his pocket and took out a handful of money, and dropped it onto the table. Only then did he transparently seem to realize that the other's were watching his overacting and he snapped on a much blanker expression. "I'm in this hand," and then seperated out a few coins. "Fifty Livres."

He leaned back in the chair- no cushion, but still comfy- and watched his companions.

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Scholar
#113 Old 4th May 2008 at 9:59 PM
Default Marie-Elisabeth et Larkin - La Salon Rouge
Marie-Elisabeth had been glad he decided to join their game. She was quite enjoying herself, due in so small part to the fact that she was all but robbing the other players blind. The game also provided a rather welcome distraction from the other distractions in the room, which she was rather pointedly trying to avoid looking at. There would be plenty of time for that later if she had her way. Right now she had a game to pay attention to.

“I’ll see that Monsieur” replied Marie-Elisabeth, carefully laying her cards down and picking up some of the coins from her pile. She reached out and dropped some of them on the small pile forming in the middle of the table. “But I’ll raise it just a little”. She took another 10 livres and put them down as well.

The other two gentlemen laid their cards down and bowed out of the round, professing that they would wait for the next round to preserve more of their money from being stolen away. She smirked at that, as it was true. They had a rather meager pile of coins left between them indeed. Other than the faint smirk, she kept her face perfectly expressionless, despite the extremely excellent hand she had.

“So Monsieur” she said, glancing across the table “ I haven't seen you before, you must be a new face around here. Are you going to tell us who you are or are we going to have to guess”?

You can call me Robyn, tis my name after all
SixWordStories
Top Secret Researcher
#114 Old 4th May 2008 at 10:27 PM
Larkin saw the other two players bow out of the game- two possibilities there. The Lady who was still in the game was either cheating or just good at cards, ro both men had particularly bad hands. He doubted the latter, or that she was cheating- very few men would be completely unaware of such a thing, and next to none would permit it to the point of their money being so low a stack as these men had.

However she had fallen for his ploy... somewhat. She met his bet, and raised, but only by a very modest amount: 10 livres. Conservative playing or suspicion? He couldn't tell.

The woman placed down her money, and then said “So Monsieur, I haven't seen you before, you must be a new face around here. Are you going to tell us who you are or are we going to have to guess?"

Larkin produced a smile for her and answered, "Baron Larkin d'Marius, at your service Mademoiselle." He doffed an imaginary cap, an English custom that had become the common greeting between equals in Zimbabwe, courtesy of the English ambassador. This woman was quite clearly not a fool, and so he had no objection to offering a greeting of equals. Then again, it was highly likely that she only knew the English version, which was fairly all purpose. Whichever way, it was a harmlessly polite greeting.

He glanced at the money that he had left from the paltry amount he usually carried on him, and picked up twenty livres. "I will meet, and 10livres is a perfectly fair raise." he said pleasantly.

((OOC: *giggle* hes asking for it...))

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Retired Moderator
retired moderator
#115 Old 4th May 2008 at 10:41 PM
(((ooc: Here I go again, but; who's NOT in the Red Salon? I'm thinking of maybe sending Octavien out of his suite, but I don't want both my characters there. Padme is still in her suite, I know that much, but... Have I missed anyone?)))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Top Secret Researcher
#116 Old 4th May 2008 at 10:57 PM
((Of everyone who has applied, the ones not there are: Mercy, Padme, Octavien, Bella, the Spanish lady and Christine [Alissa's second app]. ))

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Scholar
#117 Old 4th May 2008 at 11:14 PM
Default Marie-Elisabeth et Larkin : Salon Rouge
“And I am Marie-Elisabeth, Comtesse de Valois” she said with a polite nod, one hand holding her cards out in a fan and the other still resting over her pile of coins in front of her. She smiled across the table and dropped some more coins onto the pile “And I’m pleased to both make your acquaintance and match your wager”.

She glanced down at the cards in her hand and mentally smirked. Charlemagne, David, Caesar and Alexander all stared back at her from the small rectangles, along with a two that was really of no consequence. She felt particularly confident that she would win, but due to the chance of her opponent possibly having a straight she didn’t want to raise the stakes too high. At least she knew he couldn't possibly have a flush, but it was better to be safe than be the snotty woman who had left earlier with no money.

Marie-Elisabeth was also trying not to wrinkle her nose and scoff at his obviously English manners. While he was admittedly much more pleasant than the pretentious young woman she had met earlier, it still bothered her to be around someone so obviously Anglicized. “I take it from your mannerisms Baron d’Marius” she said, looking back up at him “That you have spent some time around the English. Is it not a great relief to be back among more civilized members of society?”



(((OOC: In case you couldn’t figure it out, she has 4 kings. Each of the four kings in a deck of cards represents a famous historical king, and it used to be common back then to have them depicted as such on the decks of cards)))

You can call me Robyn, tis my name after all
SixWordStories
Top Secret Researcher
#118 Old 4th May 2008 at 11:54 PM
((OOC: sorting/ed))

Larkin was somewhat impressed to hear the woman introduce herself as the Comtesse de Valois. Valois was well away from his barony, but he had heard nothing but excellent things about the place's female regent for the deceased Comte's child son. He had also heard that the Comte had fought in a war. Against the British. Whose mannerism he had just so blithely employed. Dammit.

She dropped a few coins onto the mounded pile in the center of the table, enough to match, not raise, and continued, "And I’m pleased to both make your acquaintance and match your wager”.

Larkin was stuck- at least so far as the card game went. He could do a brazen show of confidence, possibly enticing her to fold, or he could fold himself, thus kissing off 70livres. Which, while not significant, was not paltry. Or he could just call and let his hand speak for him. Before he could decide one way or another, she asked pointedly, "I take it from your mannerisms Baron d’Marius that you have spent some time around the English. Is it not a great relief to be back among more civilized members of society?”

Oh yes. As if he would do anything but agree to a question like that. He shifted one or two cards around in his hand, and said, without looking up, "Oh undoubtedly Comtesse. How could it not be a relief to return to my own country, where my native tongue is spoken, and people are always so exactingly polite? It is indeed a joy to be in these civilized environs."

Then again, given how underdeveloped Zimbabwe was, in a choice between England and there, he would undoubtedly go to England. The people were, by hearsay, barbaric, but the few examples he had met had drawn Larkin to regard the entire nationality with nothing more than polite aloofness. Again, not something he needed to let the Comtesse de Valois know.

He decided to call on the hand; he had plenty of money, but then again her face had not given anything in the way of an indication that her hand was assailable. "I'm afraid my coffers are running a bit dry, I'll call." With that he lay his cards down, three queens and two jacks.

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Scholar
#119 Old 5th May 2008 at 12:06 AM
(((OOC: The war was about...33 years ago I think. Charles didn't die in it, he fought in it when he was 20 something with Dimitri, the duc d'Lorraine (Who, I must add, was one of those silly young people he adores oh so much right now at the time *snicker). Marie-Elisabeth just doesn't like the English. Period :P

And as to the stats thing...uh......they started with all the cards again when a new player joined? LOL I'll go with that, because there's a good reason I'm a journalist: Math hurts my brain. And I'm off to work soon, so if I'm not too tired I'll post when I get home)))

You can call me Robyn, tis my name after all
SixWordStories
Scholar
#120 Old 5th May 2008 at 5:09 AM
Default Marie-Elisabeth et Larkin - Salon Rouge
Marie-Elisabeth had to smirk then, and said "Well Baron, it does appear that the game is true to life this round. The great Kings have trumped everyone else." She grinned and placed the four kings down one by one, with the two trailing alongside them.

The other two men at the table let out relieved sighs, no doubt glad they hadn't bet against her. They then made their excuses and left the table. Marie-Elisabeth reached out and pulled her winnings in close to herself. Then she carefully started stacking the stray coins up in order to form a neat pile in front of her. As she did so, she glanced around the room at everyone, her gaze eventually resting on the Marquis de Mont-de-Marsan. To her amusement he was looking directly at her as well. She smiled at him and nodded her head slightly in his direction before turning back to Larkin.

"It appears we've been deserted Monsieur" she said, stacking the last coin "Why don't you tell me about your time abroad? You must have some interesting stories to tell". She smiled over at him and started gathering up the other cards. "Or we could play something else if you like, I don't mind either way".



(((OOC: Don't think this is a double post...if so I'll edit my above one. And BLEAH all those years and years of French classes are coming back to haunt me......that's what I get for living up here LOL)))

You can call me Robyn, tis my name after all
SixWordStories
Original Poster
#121 Old 5th May 2008 at 10:16 AM
Mercy walked through the court witha spring in her step it had started raining in deed it was raining so hard it looked almost as if it would never stop but still Mercy was drawn towards the large front doors, she sighed inwardly, thanks to the Court Accountant tomorrow would be a good day, she had so many new people to introduce herself to, and that made her feel a little bit reflective she was not in the mood, there were new women in the court and the new Voice-in-Court as Juliet had taken to calling him. An ambassador by all accounts and from Mercy's experience that was never a good profession for a man as so few of them had any self control, as Ambassador Flight could have shown you....

She was debating whether to venture out into the rain, when her thoughts started to drag up other men, she could already feel three descernable figures moving around her, her brother, her father, her son-in-law and her late husband. They spoke:

"Mercy, listen to me, he's not good enough for you he'll just drag you out there and make a fool of you."

"Sweetheart, if you wish to marry him I will support you, after all this can bring good things for our family, things the Venn family could use."

"Oh, yes protect her, that's the way to make her happy in case you haven't noticed she doesn't love you."

"Mercy, darling, you're a wonderful woman but things are expected from a man in my position."


They spoke and she shuddered, she stepped outside, the door still open she held them open the rain hitting the front of her dress, other men appeared behind her, this time more recent ones; Silvius, Octavien, Edouard and Dimitri.

These ones didn't speak they just moved a little closer to her, each gave a different Aura; sleaze, a hidden self, quiet worry, and warm safe and strong....

Mercy felt like moving away from the men but she knew they wouldn't leave her so she stood there, half dry and half wet, half in canle light and hlaf in moonlight and totally worried...
Field Researcher
#122 Old 5th May 2008 at 11:26 AM
Default Dimitri & Charmaine - Red Salon
First, the Marquise de Magenta surprised him in the main hall. Now, minutes after entering the Red Salon, a distinctively feminine and painfully English voice snuck up just as swiftly.

“Good day, dear Duke.”

She had not spoken loudly, yet she may as well have shot a gun in the middle of Mass. Several heads—perhaps not all, perhaps every single one—around the card table swerved to face the brunette of middling age. Even Florence’s chattering stumbled to a halt. It was hard to tell how many of them recognised her; they were young, but that didn’t mean they had never visited England or hobnobbed with its aristocracy. But clearly, most of them stared at her because she spoke English.

It was a few, only a few, minutes. Maybe even seconds. But the Duc had, along with them, stared in surprise.

Then he excused himself from the table and the Marquise de Magenta, in French, before leading the Englishwoman a few paces aside. There was little doubt that this was the Englishwoman whom Rukov had so excitedly spoken of. (Surely the Court was not so unlucky as to have more of their kind running about?) Dimitri’s mind pulled up file after file for a woman of the English variety who knew him and matched this one’s description; but to his growing, personal horror, his search was turning up empty.

Dimitri started speaking in French. But at a hint of—anger? Impatience? Wariness?—entering the woman’s eyes, he bit down and switched to English for her sake. “Pardon me, Mademoiselle… I do not believe we have met.”

But there was a small spark trying to blaze into recognition—her dress was adorned with flowery embroidery—something about tulips

The last time he remembered commenting about Netherland flora, of all the subjects furthest from his expertise, was at that excruciating “family gathering” many, many years ago. Dimitri had been neither family nor English, but the party was thrown by such an important personage that even the late Duc d’Mollier dragged himself all the way to England to attend.

As was the fate of younger men who served under important ones, Dimitri was dragged along. He spent most of his nights weighing how to put himself out of his misery: the tower, the bridge, death by boredom...

He was almost certain that he had the answer, but that party had been shoved into the very depths of his memory. He was also speaking passable English, but it was still not his favoured or most practiced tongue. And so Dimitri corrected himself, uncertainly.

“…Lady Mollier? Wife of Lord Michael de Mollier, sister of Lord Simon?”

_______

((Fay: I'm not sure when the party was, so if it's a bit more recent than I expected, just lemme know!

slytherin-girl: I'd wish Charles Sr. was alive, just so he could saunter into Court and reveal all the silly things Dimitri did under his watch! Sadly, the dead don't talk. D':

And because I'm a dork, I've tried to calculate Charles' age when Dimitri would have joined the war in 1644: assuming I placed it correctly, he would've been around 26 and Dimitri was 15.

Ghanima: No prob, no prob! *pats*))
Alchemist
#123 Old 5th May 2008 at 12:26 PM
((ooc: Ugh sorry if this is convoluted and crappy, I hope it covers everything ok.))


Joséphine, César and Courtiers - the Red Salon

Joséphine and César found the Grand Dining room buzzing with laughter, voices and the incessant clattering of plates. A myriad of unfamiliar faces peregrinated themselves before the Marquise's eyes, fellow nobles who called the Palace their residence and whom she expected to acquaint herself over the following days, and weeks. Joséphine lacked much of her peers' love for socializing, preferring the company of her own private entourage – new environments however changed the entourage, and there were advantages to be found in new acquaintances. César was particularly apt at making them, unrestricted to the feminine sort either.

Seated at one of the many tables in the Grand Dining Room, Joséphine sampled the various delicious dishes on offer, the wafting aromas mingling in the air causing quite a stir in her appetite. Punctuated often by exchanged comments between herself and César, time went by unexpectedly fast, as it was often the case when one wished to stall it. An hour or so later, well satiated and in the mood for exploring, the Marquis and Marquise departed from the Dining Room, letting their steps be guided by the course of the hallway and enjoying the surprises that emerged in their path.

Such a one presented itself in the form of a pleasant, comfortable room filled with the sound of mingled voices and, rising sweetly above them, music. Glancing approvingly at eachother, César and Joséphine decided to join the courtiers there and were pleasantly surprised to discover that not only the Salon offered entertainment in a musical form, but also provided a number of cards tables and a supply of cognac. Enjoying the melody in her ears, Joséphine joined her husband and four other nobles – two men and two women – at one of the tables, ready to begin a game. The Marquise had never been a particular fan of card games, but as she rarely shrunk away from a challenge, the accepted the round, taking the opportunity to exchange names and pleasantries with their companions -who were neither too old and dull nor too young and brazen, glad to enjoy a moment of lofty socializing. Not long after however, music gave way to silence and the two women performing stood to their feet. Polite applause rewarded them, before fading away into a general hum of voices.
Not half a minute later, César turned to Joséphine with a proposition and a telltale gaze:

"Why don't you play something, Joséphine? Play that light, aerial piece... That fantaisie, that you always play at home, when we are entertaining? It's such a remarkable piece of music, I'm sure these lovely people would love to hear it."

A spark of apprehension shone in Joséphine's eyes, masked subtly behind a half-surprised smile and suspended silence: not a particularly demure woman by any standards, the Marquise did however experience a twinge of reluctance: the prospect of performing before an assembly of strangers at a Royal Court sent a somewhat uncomfortable chill down her spine.
In spite of that initial reaction, Joséphine did not miss César's silent message, contained so well in his eyes. She knew it well, his conspiring gaze, having seen him use it countless times before when he was about to put one of his sly ideas into practice. Coupled with the clear hint of “that fantasie you always play at home” and a recent conversation over Octavien, the Marquise thought she saw where he was heading with all of this. After all, had they not whispered ways of supporting their friend into eachother's ear only 30 minutes earlier?

Joséphine had a few favourite musical pieces she knew by heart and played often. In the company of visitors however – and Octavien being one of the most frequent ones – she enjoyed performing one of the Prince's own compositions, a piece written for the harpsichord to which she had approximated a few pleasant verses. They merged well together, the instrument and her voice, a combination which had made that particular fantasie into a favourite.

By then, the two other couples at their table were looking at her expectantly, awaiting a response. Joséphine glanced furtively between them and the harpsichord over at their right, knowing she had but moments to make a decision. Well...what could possibly go wrong? She had a solid knowledge of the instrument, a voice which people found pleasant to listen and the opportunity to score a few points in her friend's favour.

Even as Joséphine prepared a reply, several people began arriving, among which a man whom she recognized as Duc Dimitri d'Lorraine. At his side was a woman who spoke vivaciously, an amusing contrast with the Duc's quiet demeanour – Marquise Florence de Magenta, whom Joséphine happened to be aquainted with. What was even more interesting however was the fact that they approached their own table, exchanging nods and glances.

“I would be delighted to honour your request, mon cher.”, the Marquise smiled and rose to her feet. “Mon Duc, Marquise de Magenta “- she nodded in their general direction - “welcome. Please, make yourselves comfortable, and I hope you will enjoy the recital.”

Acutely aware of how many people were gathered in the room at the time, Joséphine left the table and directed her steps towards the far east side where the harpsichord and violin sat in silence. Heads turned her way, the general hum of conversation decreasing in intensity, anticipating the beginning of a new recital. From where she stood, the Marquise could encompass the entire Salon with her gaze, and caught a glimpse of a familiar flutter of blond curls, not far from the table she had just left. That served to steel her resolve – it was then or never.

“The composition I am about to play”, Joséphine began, folding away the notes left behind, “Is called Fantasia Harmonica in D major. Thank you, and I wish you all a pleasant audition.”

With that, the Marquise sat down before the harpsichord and, positioning her fingers over the keys she followed the dizzyingly fast patterns memory instructed, summoning those characteristically vivid notes that ascended and descended in an almost playful, daring manner. Octavien's composition was a bold, improvisational piece that one would have a difficult time fitting in one single musical form, as the name Fantasie suggested. It was comprised of rapid passages and almost melancholy, a frugal succession of surprising harmony. Joséphine's soprano voice both accompanied and supported the melody, in perfect unison with the rapid, skilled touches of her fingers upon the keys, testimony to the fact that the two had collaborated many times before to bring Octavien's Fantasie to life.

Some five minutes later, with a final pointed note that her voice held an instant longer, Joséphine's leaping hands came to a brusque halt, descending firmly on the keys, and silence fell once more.

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
Original Poster
#124 Old 5th May 2008 at 12:31 PM
((Ok, just a note, the spelling 'Duke' instead of 'Duc' is because she speaks in English.

Seiza the party is fine

And i hope you'll all forgive me for the shockingly bad posts recently I hope with my next one you'll see why.))

The Duke turned to her, he spoke first in French, but upon her look of mild dispair he stopped and spoke in her mother tongue.

“Pardon me, Mademoiselle… I do not believe we have met.”

Her right eyeborw arched, did he honestly not remember her? Lady de Mollier? He paused and searched his mind, she let him stumble on in silence, he gave her another look, was there some hint of recognition when he looked over her this time? She wasn't sure so she waited a little longer, her natural slight frown adorned her face.

“…Lady Mollier? Wife of Lord Michael de Mollier, sister of Lord Simon?”

Finally, well she supposed he met many great men and women, "yes, that would be correct, Duke Lorraine." Well if he could drop the de from de Mollier she could certainly afford the same liberty, "how have you been, it has been such a long time since we met." She asked as whislt his English was clearly not his most comfortable language she had yet to find anyone in the court who spoke it in a more favourable fashion, and therefore, the Duke d'Lorraine would have to do, so she gave him a pleasant smile, he was too much of a gentleman to desert a woman whom had engaged him in coversation, which was perfect for Charmaine.
Scholar
#125 Old 5th May 2008 at 12:41 PM
Christine waited patiently while the ruckus outside began to organise itself into a party that could finally let her climb out of the carriage. In all honestly, she was cold and distant about the whole affair, but for her future as the King's advisor. She could stand to wait some more while she continued to plan things out in her mind.
First things first, she needed to have her suite arranged and her things unpacked. Then, she needed to get herself acquainted with important members of court.
Christine knew she had fierce competition for the position and she was ready for it. After all, all was fair in love and war.
The door finally opened, allowing her to free herself from the confinement of the carriage. Afternoon had begun to set in and yet the courtyard was teeming with life despite the rain pouring down violently at her feet. She glanced slightly at the men who'd begun to unload her cases and knew things would be done for her by the time she retired to her suite at night.
Now, however, was showtime.
Perhaps it wasn't the best time to make an appearance in court now that she was more or less drenched through. Her long dark hair hung in loose wet curls around her shoulders. The makeshift use her cloak as a sheild against the falling water had worked somewhat. Still, Christine did not like wasting time.
She wandered up to what seemed to be the social hub full of voices playing over each other. She read the sign above the door; La Salon Rouge. Christine lingered in the doorway momentarily, slowly pulling back the hood of her cloak before gliding into the collection of socialising nobles.

(OOC: Christine is approachable, just walk up to her etc. Thanks!)

______________________________________________________________
(OOC: Seeing as Christine is in the salon with everyone else, I figured I'd let Bella loose in the corridors. If anyone's out there please feel free to approach her)

Bella realised that her position in court was weak, if anything. Furthermore, if she did plan on getting anywhere in society, she had to move up the ladder. Added to that, if she planned on progressing forwards rather than backwards, she needed to rely on her own accomplishments rather than her father's reputation.

There was one major problem with that philosophy; Bella had no real accomplishments. The obstacle to the remedy of this situation was that she lacked the power to accomplish anything. This, however, could by rectified.
Bella, now 20,000 livres richer, was able and ready to buy her way up to Comtesse. Well, not until tomorrow morning, in any case.

(OOC: Okay, I hope I did that right, I couldn't find any instructions on how to buy a title, so I just RP'd it. Please let me know if I managed to get it wrong.
Slytherin-girl, lol, I know what you mean, I read the post in the other thread - priceless and of course, Cesar's morning-after-mode early in this thread. Also, I noticed ME's room is next to Bella. That should be pleasant....)

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