Mι∂ηιgнт ιη Ƥαяιѕ

[formidable]

Private AU/PSL RP, set anywhere from 1879 alternate history France to 21st century North America. A tale of two brothers and the witch and her golem who gets entangled in their lives. Urban fantasy, steampunk, magic, guns, and coffee collide. ➤ PART I ➢ "La Caravane".

Comments

[effet]

That's fine, that's fine.

You can come wear it to one of my parties!

[infusion]

Oh, but if it's a party maybe a creamy white--...

Wait, what?

[effet]

One of my parties! I know some of the other faction members've seen your face, but if it's a masquerade— and besides, none of them would be stupid enough to do anything dodgy during a ball.

[infusion]

I... That's so nice, but... Gus, are you sure?? I think I'd still stick out and...

[She's a little flustered at being invited to... a ball. Who does balls anymore!!! And honestly, when it comes to grace, Iona does the punch in your face part too well, compared to being graceful and sophisticated.]

[effet]

[ Without missing a beat, Gus puts his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, leans forward and gives Iona one of his toothy, bright grins. ]

Of course you'll stand out.

You're gorgeous!

[infusion]

Gorgeous, is it?

[She crosses her arms, pretending to look severe.]

So, gotta prove to the top brass and rival that you aren't completely hopeless when it comes to gorgeous woman, hm??

[effet]

[ And, well. His doofy grin subsides into something a little more serious, mostly for the sake of theatrics: this is him trying to flex his suave muscles. ]

I don't have to prove myself to anyone.

[oren]

[HERE'S OREN HERE TO RUIN EVERYTHING see what's up. He overheard about the ball thing so... He's looking at the dress. Then at Iona who's blinking at him (sometimes what he's thinking is incomprehensible, even to her).

An then he looks at Gus.]

Not this dress.

[the rudest]

[effet]

[ WHAT THE FUCK, OREN. ]

—Why, because you want to wear it?!

[ so weak, Gus...so weak. ]

[oren]

Off white better. Cream white.

[look, he gets to dress up his charge, not gus, frenchman isn't allowed to yet]

[effet]

Dieu, you're worse than a rich mother who won't let her son get married.

[ Archaic comparisons, Gus... ]

[oren]

You skipped steps.

[THERE IS A LINE DRAWN HERE SON]

Both of us. Been seen. Certain no trouble?

[effet]

You can stay invisible!!!!!

[ So butthurt. ]

[oren]

[There's a notable pause as Gus says that... And Oren turns around about to return to the kitchen before replying curtly.]

No need.

[oren you're so spiteful for a rock...]

[effet]

[ Turning to Iona: ]

Oren is such a bully to me, Iona?!

[ He asks for it though, lbr. ]

[infusion]

Yeah he could be more well behaved, but...

When you both bicker together it's like you're already friends!

[effet]

Yeah, well. I don't give him that tough of a time.

...Do I?

[infusion]

He's very particular!

[She takes a pink macaron and pops it into her mouth before continuing.]

I mentioned to Claude that he hasn't been with me for that long so he's getting used to working with me since he had to break his routine of serving the same person for a few centuries.

If anything, I give him the opportunity to be more honest.

[effet]

Huh. I guess that makes sense.

[ A cant of the head, and he goes for his coffee and cake, taking a thoughtful bite out of his dessert. ]

Hey. Does Oren ever complain about how he wants to go out and do his own thing?

[infusion]

... No. Not at all.

[The closest to a complaint would be his criticisms and his surprising aptitude for sarcasm. But it was never about himself.]

I mean, he does have things he likes to do. Like cooking and cleaning... Okay, bad example even if he really does enjoy those.

[Iona taps her cheek, trying to think of what Oren does outside of what she tells him to do and what he feels like he should do for others now that he's better at that last part.]

Um... Reading... I mean, there's plenty of time for him to do that and it helps him keep up with the present and remember stuff from the past... Uh, movies?? But he only started watching them because of my grandma...

[effet]

Never? Not once? He hasn't ever said...

[ A beat, where he tries to look as austere as he can: it works, to a certain extent, even if it doesn't suit him. ]

'Iona. Wish to go out. Won't be back for a week. Maybe more.'

[ He's sincerely curious, not because he doesn't think Oren is incapable of being selfish— he has a feeling that he can be, to some extent— but because he wonders if that's what it means to be under someone. To not complain.

(his brother comes to mind, always with that vague half-smile. 'I won't say no, if that's what you decide'.) ]

[infusion]

Hm... [Iona takes a bite of another macaron, trying to decide how to answer him, how to describe their relationship to one another.]

I can tell you right now that he wouldn't leave me without a reason. I'm the one who usually goes out and does my own thing. He... He waits until I tell him to act on his own.

[But it would all circle back to either her or Berna.]

Alright, I might as well tell you since it's not so much a big secret. Do you know what a golem is?

[effet]

'Waits'. Yeah, alright.

[ Gus almost wants to roll his eyes... almost. Oren certainly hasn't struck Gus as a waiting kind of person, but then again, he can't exactly judge.

So he just shakes his head in lieu of that first instinct, sets aside his own subjectivity on the matter, because it's apparent to him that this is different from familial obligations or any sort of artificial obligation. 'Magic' again. ]

And no, I can't say I really do? I think I heard about a folklore or two about them, but nothing I can really remember off the top of my head.

[infusion]

They originate from Jewish folklore, specifically, but in general, a golem is an anthropomorphized being created from inanimate matter, usually earth related. Think marble, granite, or clay.

[She pauses to pick up one of the teddy bears that might have fallen on the ground, moving around its arms as she explains.]

For "us," golems are servile tools and usually not much else. They'll have a core that houses the energy needed for it to move and to obey the commands that its creator has etched on its surface. That energy runs out eventually or when its commands are fulfilled, it shuts down and just becomes rock again.

[A beat.]

Oren's a golem. But he's the only one of his kind because my grandmother was the one who created him.

[effet]

So...he's like a walking, talking doll? That's...

[ 'A little sad', he's almost tempted to say. But he supposes that that's the sort of signifier someone who isn't familiar with magic would use: and besides, he'd be a hypocrite if he said that. He's always been intimately infatuated with wires and gears, and those things have a life of their own, he knows that.

So, backpedal: ] ...Pretty remarkable, all things considered.