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Post by Rebecca on Jan 25, 2008 13:48:43 GMT -5
*Though she had never been denied anything from her father that she truly needed, under her mother's stern and watchful eye against waste and vanity Rebecca had never quite experienced anything quite like the uninhibited chaos of the afternoon.
She had seen so many bolts of beautiful fabric, perused so many patterns for so many dresses--day dresses, ball gowns, afternoon gowns, tea gowns, dinner gowns, dancing gown, and even a riding habit!--that her eyes had begun to ache as much as her flesh did as the dressmaker measured and pinched and probed under Madame la Comtess' strictest instructions.
Rebecca gave herself over to the woman's taste, having no fashion sense of her own and usually preferring the serviceable to the stylish. It seemed by the end of the afternoon that they had ordered one of everything in every colour and with every trimming, and Rebecca fell exhausted into bed with the Comtess' promises of visiting a milliner's shop the next day ringing in her ears.*
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 27, 2008 15:37:03 GMT -5
***NEW DAY***
*Becca was bundled into a clean, dry nightgown and her ankle was bound tightly--it was not broken, only badly sprained, and the doctor told her she was very lucky only to be generally bruised otherwise in her fall.
Sitting in the rain and cold for so long, however, caused her to fall into a strong fever, and the moaned and murmured nonsense as she tossed and turned on twisted, sweat-soaked sheets.*
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Post by Philippe on Jan 27, 2008 15:40:12 GMT -5
*Philippe sat slumped outside the door as servants rushed in and out. Occasionally one would stop to address him but they were quickly halted with a wave or sharp word.*
((Do you want him to get Vianne or Percy?))
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 27, 2008 15:43:13 GMT -5
((No. What good will that do? Vianne'd take her home and Percy would take her home AND kill Philippe for good measure and no reason.))
*After an uncertain and wretched period of time, the fever broke and Rebecca's eyes opened slowly, the faintest of murmurs on her lips.*
"...M'sieur...le Comte..."
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Post by Philippe on Jan 27, 2008 15:47:11 GMT -5
*At the sound of her voice Philippe pulled himself up, leaning against the doorframe.*
"Yes."
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 27, 2008 15:56:29 GMT -5
*She turned her head weakly upon the pillow, squinting at him as the light from the hallway spilling into the darkened room made him a towering sillouhette.*
"...thank you," *she breathed, her voice hoarse.*
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Post by Philippe on Jan 27, 2008 15:58:02 GMT -5
*Philippe nodded and left the room. Once gone he walked back to his study.On the way he met a servant.*
"Please find my Mother."
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 27, 2008 16:43:57 GMT -5
*Becca frowned in confusion as he left--she recalled in between snatches of feverdreams that he had constantly been nearby. She found she could not sleep, thinking about him. She recalled everything--how he'd rescued her, held her close and kept her safe. And that look in his eyes at times that seemed so strange yet familiar--as though something within her answered the silent questions in his gaze.*
I must speak with him...tonight.
*As soon as the house was quiet, she got up, testing her weight on her ankle--it twinged a little, but had nearly healed completely as the fever had restricted her to bedrest.
Venturing into the hallway, she began a search for the Comte's quarters. She smirked to herself a little at the irony.*
I feel I know him, and yet...I don't even know his name...
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 27, 2008 17:19:43 GMT -5
*Becca shut the door behind her and turned the key in the lock, leaning against the heavy wood with a shudder, breathing heavily and staring into nothing for a long time. There was no way she was going to sleep, now--not after...*
Demons...what did he say about demons?
*She took out her sketch pad and a pencil and sat in the window, the moonlight bright enough to see what she was doing.
By dawn, drawings of a man--Philippe--and a faceless woman--sometimes separate, sometimes twined together, always naked--littered the floor at her feet. Her nails were bitten down until her fingertips had bled and she was still no closer to peace.*
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 30, 2008 14:50:22 GMT -5
***AFTER THE WEDDING***
*Rebecca wearily made her way to her room that evening, only to stop short at the sight of Heloise in the hall leading to her room. She immediately suspected something was horribly wrong.*
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Post by Héloïse de Chagny on Jan 30, 2008 14:51:51 GMT -5
*She smiled tightly.*
"My dear--you will find this room has been cleared out. You are no longer a guest here--it is your home."
*Locking the door to Rebecca's room, she slipped the key into her pocket.*
"You know the way to Philippe's chambers," *she said nastily, walking away.*
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 30, 2008 14:52:51 GMT -5
*Becca paled and felt sick. Or something. SOMETHING was going on in her stomach. She took an unsteady breath and slowly turned down the hall towards Philippe's chambers.*
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Post by Sorcha on Feb 9, 2008 14:43:13 GMT -5
((Why is this pinned everywhere?))
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