Mai-Ly (
formidable) wrote in
sweethymns2016-05-13 10:52 pm
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Mι∂ηιgнт Ɠяιη∂
![]() Private AU/PSL RP. A tale of two brothers from alternate 1879 France, and the witch, her golem, and other colorful characters, who get entangled in their lives. Urban fantasy, steampunk, magic, guns, and coffee collide. ➢ "La Caravane". |
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You should take care not to clot your blood with so much sugar.
[ This is possibly the most unprofessional, bullshit medical factoid Claude's ever conjured as an empty threat.
His mug clatters a little too insistently on the table when he sets it down. ]
...Are they any good? [ YOU KNOW, for. Science. ]
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Oh, and the brownies?
I can make them someday! And you can try them!
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How magnanimous of you.
Is this what you'd call "a date plan"? [ ha ha how funny ]
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[The flush on her cheeks is quite noticeable even with her dark skin tone, but it's there.
She tries to wave it off as if they're being their usual playful and joking selves. That's how they usually are with each other right? RIGHT??
(They're sitting together, the sun shines through the windows, the smell of coffee lingers, it's simple, it's nothing, it's everything, this is a memory she'll treasure because he's there, she likes his smile, it's different from usual, but he's just about the same).]
It'd be the first time you tried something I baked.
[Iona runs her hand through her hair, a sure sign that she's nervous or embarrassed about something.]
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But she smiles, and the sun catches her hair just so, and she tips her chin down and breathes with a gentleness that actually makes him... pause.
And recalibrate.
And reevaluate. ]
...Is that so.
[ His words escape him before he can stop himself, not because they're barbed, but because they're achingly earnest. He hates it. ]
I'll be looking forward to it, then. [ Ah, he's done it now. ]
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Good! I'll make sure to remind myself so I won't forget!
[Iona probably won't forget about something like this. It's just the kind of person she is. There is something else they should be talking about though...]
Oh yeah! Any information you were able to scrape together about last night's fiasco?
[(Changing the subject for both of their sake? Maybe? It is the original purpose, but deep down the witch isn't pushing her luck...)
She breaks off a piece of the pain marguerite marveling at the shape before taking a bite.]
Like, the opera's definitely got an underground section right? Gus and I discovered that after all, but we didn't want to go any deeper.
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Playing along with the subject change, Claude reaches down to the rolled-up schematics of the opera that he'd commandeered, taking the most relevant one and laying it flat on his side of the table. ]
—Right, the operahouse. As you might have seen, there is, in fact, an underground segment of it. Far below the ground floor, there's a subterranean level connected to the sewer systems through a complicated network of tunnels and riverwater from the Seine.
[ He points it out as a spiderweb of lines that fragment in the lower levels of the map. ]
Presumably to make equipment easier to carry to the building during construction. It hasn't been used since, and was largely thought to be obsolete... until now, I suppose. It's not the safest place to be, and much of the technology that'd been used to control the flow of water should be outdated. More traps than conveniences.
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Our special someone has probably made some use of it... And when you combine superstitious theater types, he's probably been moving around and doing a lot of shadowy work.
[She finishes off her bread piece and takes the paper so that it's facing her way.]
That's just my guess anyways.
[Is it really Iona?]
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[ Could it be that the Phantom is building some sort of weird mech?? Mecha-Christine?????
Anything is possible in Steampunk France, though. If he can't have the real thing, then who's to say that he's not trying to build a replica? Imbue it with her heart, her song?
Of course, Claude won't jump to conclusions. He takes a sip of his coffee. ]
Does this sort of thing excite you?
[ ok that's perhaps poor phrasing, but you know what he means ]
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[In response to his question, her response is a rather noncommittal gesture with her hand.]
What? The danger? The mystery? The anticipation that I may have to punch someone or something in the face?
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You certainly do love your punching. This time, you'd be perfectly justified.
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is that more flushing yes it is]I mean... Yeah! We can't have a crazy guy running an opera and building dangerous traps underground, especially with that voice of his that gives headaches.
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Mm. Who knows— he may be supernatural, and he may just fall in love with the feeling of your fist on his face.
[ CLAUDE??? ]
I anticipate he'll become a regular at your coffeeshop, if we don't arrest him first.
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[Iona rolls her eyes and then leans back in her chair sighing, facing the ceiling as her hair hangs down, as if trying to exhaust herself of more ideas.]
This is way too much crap to deal with in one sitting isn't it? I was actually hoping we'd just have a normal visit to Paris, but...
[She waves her hand flippantly.]
C'est la vie. As they say.
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Normal will always elude you, I'm afraid.
[ She's a real firecracker, isn't she? ]
Tourism will have to wait. There's work to be done, cities to save. [ Fronts to preserve, people to fend off. ] God, I haven't done so much legwork in ages.
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[AKA it's a good reason for her to go out and about without Oren hovering over her.]
And if we're doing legwork, that means I can technically be a tourist at the same time. Multi-tasking at it's best, don't you agree?
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So he smiles wanly, tipping his head to the side. ]
Well, if you don't mind ill-tempered company [ gestures to himself ] and a trip to our library, I'm sure you'll have a stellar time.
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[Iona straightens herself and grins at Claude.]
And if anyone tries to pull a gun on you, I'll be there to shake them down! It's a good trade off.
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I assure you, any assassin who's caught pulling out a gun in our library will have worse people than me to deal with.
[ Those 1st editions are priceless, and bibliophiles are terrifying.
(The library itself is quite pretty anyway, with shelves that stretch high like a spire; it's one of the few places in the city where people actively avoid incidents.) ]
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Thanks for breakfast by the way! And for eating with me. I think it's been a while since we shared a meal with each other.
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Meals have always been tiresome, diplomatic affairs where people are trapped around a table and forced to converse without telling the truth. And she's thanking him for it?
Preposterous. How trite.
(How dare she make him enjoy these things, the nerve.) ]
...Of course. I don't often let my guests starve.
[ The reply comes after a beat, as if she's caught him off-guard. And despite how snide the words are, his expression borders on semi-sincere.
Ugh. ] I don't expect it was as good as Oren's cooking, but I appreciate your flattery.
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[She's always so positive, seemingly optimistic about everything; honest to a fault, and only now just aware of the extent that it affects Claude. Iona pauses, just remembering how their last conversation at the Grind went. With the dishes in her arms, she adds on:]
Ah... Claude? [It's a rare moment where she sounds unsure, but she figures she should go ahead and ask anyways. Iona goes to place down the dishware, tapping them with a finger so they can magically be cleaned of stains and crumbs.]
Am I being too much?
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He knows exactly which words to use to hurt her, because he's used them before: "are you asking for your sake, or mine?" Dismissive, sarcastic, and off-putting. "Don't patronize me, I've suffered worse."
Ultimately, he can't bring himself to say them. His hand relaxes along the wooden tabletop, and he straightens to full height. ]
...Maybe so. [ And ugh, that's honest. The words are like hot coals in his throat. ] I was never raised to be as optimistic as you are, you understand.
Still, that's a poor reflection on my character, not yours. [ He hums, as if to dismiss his own statement. ] You—
—you're quite perfect the way you are. Unfortunately.
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Her back is turned to Claude and her body freezes when he answers her. It's as if they're the only ones in the room and for a split second, Iona could have sworn her heartbeat could be heard, the sound bouncing out of her rib cage and then off of the walls and...
Her hair bounces as her head snaps up from just staring at the dishes in front of her.]
... Oh!
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[Stupid, stupid, stupid!! She's yelling inwardly at herself, for having such a dumb reply after asking such a tentative question. The witch brings both palms to her cheeks, rubbing them, and then giving them two light slaps as if prepping herself to turn around to look at Claude.
And when she does, her expression is sheepish, cheeks feeling warm with the faintest flush to show it.]
I mean, I get that. About you growing up differently and all! [Gus's story about the past is not lost on her after all, so she tries not to mess up her next few words.]
What I meant to say was, I know I get ahead of myself a lot and it's a lot to take in, so you know you can just... Just let me know. I think I need to hear it from others and not just Oren.
[I don't mind if I heard it from you, is what she wants to say, but there's a wisp of fear there, that he'd retreat if she said something that makes him feel like he owes her something and that's not what she wanted at all.
What DOES she want from him? Iona shuffles her feet trying not to let the question overcome her in that moment and then puts her hands on her hips, smiling at Claude.]
Anyways! I'm gonna change into something else, so you can see me outside in about, 15 minutes? Give or take?
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