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Post by Rochester on Mar 17, 2007 8:13:57 GMT -5
((I'm not sure if this is really gross or mildly erotic. Hmmm...maybe both. ))
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Post by Miss Sinclaire on Mar 17, 2007 8:38:24 GMT -5
((*makes a noise akin to the one David Duchovny makes in Connie & Carla when he thinks he's been kissed by a dude*))
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Post by Declan on Mar 17, 2007 18:33:45 GMT -5
Declan grinned and wiped a trace of yolk off her face with a thumb.
((What now?))
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Post by Miss Sinclaire on Mar 17, 2007 18:38:25 GMT -5
((Well I might send Gin home to have a bath and wash her hair. Ick.))
*Virginia smiled and shook her head briefly.* "I should get home and bathe." *She picked up her cloak and folded it over her arm, the storm having passed and left the sun shining this morning. She'd feel like a right idiot walking all eggy through the streets, but there was no other remedy.*
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Post by Declan on Mar 17, 2007 18:41:56 GMT -5
"Hmm... okay. Want me to accompany you?" he asked.
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Post by Miss Sinclaire on Mar 17, 2007 18:44:11 GMT -5
*Virginia turned slightly pink, but nodded, and together they set out to the Mors house.* "If you like you can sit in the kitchen downstairs--I'll heat some water so you can wash your hair there. Wait, that will cook the egg. It'll have to be cold, I'm afraid."
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Post by Declan on Mar 17, 2007 18:49:28 GMT -5
Declan pouted in disappointment.
"I don't believe there are there any other ways to remove egg from one's hair?" He shivered at the thought of cold water coming into contact with his skin, especially with the temperature outside as it was. Bright and sunny but chilly.
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Post by Miss Sinclaire on Mar 17, 2007 18:52:20 GMT -5
*Virginia crossed her arms as they crossed a small stone bridge that arched over the Seine as they walked through the city.* "...I could always push you in the river."
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Post by Declan on Mar 17, 2007 18:55:42 GMT -5
Declan rolled his eyes and scoffed. "And I could always pull you in along with me. That way we both suffer the consequences of your actions."
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Post by Miss Sinclaire on Mar 17, 2007 18:56:56 GMT -5
*Virginia peered uncertainly at the river and kept walking.* "I'll take my chances in the bathtub, thanks. Anyway, it'll be cold water for me, too, so you won't suffer alone."
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Post by Declan on Mar 17, 2007 19:02:09 GMT -5
"Good, then. Good."
As Virginia and Declan continued their way along to her house, he slipped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. He smiled happily, his breath visible in the morning air.
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Post by Faith on Mar 21, 2007 17:11:16 GMT -5
*Faye finally had the kitchen cleaned up and set in order. She smiled at the cozy and tidy domestic scene a moment before she heard a loud POP and turned to see a water pipe burst in a corner of the kitchen. Grabbing a handful of rags, she ran towards the broken pipe and tried to stem the spewing flow of water, getting doused in the process. Curly strands of wet red hair were plastered haphazardly across her white skin in streaks of dark crimson, water filling her mouth as she muttered quiet and gentle oaths to herself, wrestling with the broken pipe, tying the rags tightly around the pipe.*
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Post by Norman Bates on Mar 21, 2007 17:44:08 GMT -5
*Norman had long wondered what had taken his business away. There was the moving of the highway, of course, but then there was also competition. And it needed to be checked out, as much as he disliked leaving his home.
He loped easily down the road, towards the busier streets, hands in his pockets. A sign loomed up before him: Le Rouge et L'Epine. Seemed to have food as well as lodgings; that was probably part of it. Pizza delivery boys had yet to be invented, so a motel without board was somewhat ahead of its time.
Norman prevaricated about the entrance, wanting to enter and check out the hotel and the tavern and what it offered. Maybe it would give him some ideas. Maybe he could make the Bates name mean something again...
Something good, that is.
But he hesitated. He couldn't go in; safer, surely, to watch from afar, not to engage. He didn't want a repeat of... Well, safe to say interaction was not something he was comfortable with quite yet.
He crept around the side of the inn, to where a window promised a view of the kitchen. It was somewhat fogged over, so he rubbed a patch clear and pressed his eye to it. A woman stood inside, just in his view. Her hair was dark with water, and it streamed down her body, soaking her clothes to her skin. Norman felt the stirrings of something he'd tried to kill within himself. He shouldn't watch her this way; he should want her. Shouldn't want to touch himself. Mother would be angry.
No. Mother was dead. He had to remember that.
But it was too much. Mother might be dead, but it hadn't made her any less real when he'd kept her body in her old room, much as the conscious thought now disgusted him. He may be free of her, but he wasn't free of the guilt. He was taking advantage of this woman, and this woman... this woman was taking advantage of him, manipulating his body with hers, as woman was wont to do.
How dare she?
It was over almost before he knew it. Suddenly he was inside the inn, retrieving a large knife last used to chop onions from the counter--suddenly blood roared in his hearing like so many enraged insects--suddenly, at his feet, there lay the body of the woman he'd been watching. Her blood was the same color as her hair, and both ran in rivulets down her neck. The blood, however, kept going until it wormed its way through the cracks in the floorboards.*
"Oh my god," *he said, his face stricken.* "Not again."
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Post by Miss Sinclaire on Mar 21, 2007 17:55:27 GMT -5
*Virginia approached the back door of the inn, and heard a strange rushing sound from within. She saw a trickle of water spilling over the doorstep.* A flood? "Faye?" *she called out, moving towards the door.*
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Post by Norman Bates on Mar 21, 2007 18:04:33 GMT -5
*Norman stood there, horrified, wondering what to do. He needed to clean this up, and quickly! He hadn't meant it, but he couldn't think about that now. I'll think about it tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day! He heard a voice outside, calling a woman's name. Not enough time, then.
Time enough only to wash his hands in the continuing spray and run out the back door, all the way back home.*
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