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Post by Héloïse de Chagny on Feb 13, 2008 9:51:55 GMT -5
*To celebrate her son's recent nuptials and the arrival of their American cousin, the dowager threw a grand ball in the de Chagny castle penthouse mansion, inviting all the creme of society.*
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Post by Scarlett O'Hara on Feb 13, 2008 10:09:40 GMT -5
*Hang it. Scarlett was tired of black. She was tired of being a widow. She'd barely been married, but she'd been tired of that, too. And she would not let her life be over already. Barely a year ago, she'd reigned supreme at Twelve Oaks, collecting every beau but the one she wanted. She was no old woman. Let them say what they would.*
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Post by Philippe on Feb 13, 2008 10:58:26 GMT -5
*Philippe sat, sullenly drinking in a corner.*
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Feb 13, 2008 11:04:07 GMT -5
*Darcy entered. Wondering, not for the first or last time, what the devil he was doing in a place like this. He hated these things. Insipid conversation, simpering eligible maidens and--oh, look, public drunkenness. Already.
But the Comtess de Changy claimed relationship through his aunt, and so his presence was required. He retreated to a convenient wall and stared sullenly at nothing.*
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Post by Valmont on Feb 13, 2008 11:05:47 GMT -5
*Valmont eyed the competition. Drunkards and wallflowers. Excellent.
He spied the painfully eager girl in the green-sprigged dress and smiled. He didn't know her. That was all for the best.*
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Post by Scarlett O'Hara on Feb 13, 2008 11:11:17 GMT -5
*Philippe sat, sullenly drinking in a corner.* *Scarlett tripped lightly over to her cousin. He was the only person she knew here, so far. And she desperately needed someone's reaction.* "Good evening, cousin," *she said brightly.* "Why, what a lovely night for a ball!" *She curtsied slightly, to show off her gown--and bosoms--to their best effect.*
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Post by Philippe on Feb 13, 2008 11:49:59 GMT -5
*Philippe glanced down at her.Well really, he thought the girl was rather pretty.*
"So it would seem."
*He sipped at a black coffee that had been placed in front of him. It was better to not be entirely drunk.*
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Post by Scarlett O'Hara on Feb 13, 2008 12:15:26 GMT -5
((Since when?))
*Scarlett's eyes were wide with innocent curiosity.*
"I do hope you'll tell me if I'm being terribly improper, but you are the only man I know here and my cousin; would it be awful for you to ask me to dance? It's been so long since I could, you see. I just don't know the rules here."
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Post by Philippe on Feb 13, 2008 12:18:02 GMT -5
*Philippe shook his head.*
"I shall not dance, perhaps there is someone I can introduce you to?"
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Post by Scarlett O'Hara on Feb 13, 2008 12:38:54 GMT -5
*Scarlett sighed inwardly. Everyone here looked boring.*
"Oh! I would be most grateful," *she said instead.*
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Post by Philippe on Feb 13, 2008 14:55:49 GMT -5
*Philippe stood, abeit unsteadily. Curse it, he had not planned to stand.*
"Very well."
*He approached a well dressed middle ages gentleman.*
"Sir, my cousin Miss Scarlett Hamilton."
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Post by Scarlett O'Hara on Feb 13, 2008 15:06:04 GMT -5
((Dude. We need more people at this ball.))
*Scarlett was vastly disappointed, but she acted her part, simpering and taking the old walrus' arm.
At least she was dancing.*
((Damn. We should have introduced a Rhett.))
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Post by Raoul on Feb 13, 2008 15:44:51 GMT -5
*Raoula moved into the hall. She laughed aloud. How dull this was, typical of her brother. The wife had left already it seemed. She moved over to the bar.*
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Post by Philippe on Feb 13, 2008 16:26:15 GMT -5
*Philippe slammed a hand against a wall. The worry was unbearable, he had half a mind to- no he could not. If he followed her he would lose her forever. A thought occured to him, perhaps one of her brothers could. Silently Philippe left the room.*
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Prince
- Masterful Virgin -
(Formerly Known As the Artist Formerly Known As Prince.)
Posts: 29
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Post by Prince on Feb 13, 2008 17:11:48 GMT -5
*Prince arrived, in his violet velvet suit and signature frilled shirt. He looked about, and couldn't find a DJ. He flapped a hand. Which flapped the frills at his sleeves.*
"I'm no† impr3$$3d wi†h †his mμ$ic," *he said softly, but in a voice that carried.*
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