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Post by Cal on Mar 4, 2008 19:49:44 GMT -5
*Cal sat on a rock in the cellars at night, loving the cave-like ambiance and the nearby connection to the catacombs. The walls dripped, the stone was cold to the touch... it was perfect. She wrote furiously, humming the triumphal march from Aida so off-tune as to make it barely recognizable.*
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Post by Gerik on Mar 4, 2008 21:05:00 GMT -5
Gerik was busy at work on his next, as-of-yet-untitled opera when a sound reached his perfect ears. It was someone humming, he was sure of it. He set down his feather quill and listened, disovering that he was not the only one in this cellar who was writing something.
His heart leapt suddenly to his throat. Could it be Christine? Could she have come back to him after all this time? He stood and rushed to the entrance of the cavern. He couldn't see anyone, but that didn't mean it couldn't be Christine, on her way to see him right now! He jumped off a rock and landed skillfully in his trusty gondola, and he was so graceful that he didn't make so much as a ripple in the water as he began paddling the boat out onto the lake, his heart positively singing.
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Post by Cal on Mar 4, 2008 21:07:08 GMT -5
*Cal heard a splash and, using sharp vampire vision, spotted the man rowing over. What the... she blinked and stopped humming for a moment, before continuing in doo-dee-doo's that were equally off-key but far louder. At least she knew she was horrible at singing.*
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Post by Gerik on Mar 4, 2008 21:11:50 GMT -5
Gerik winced and scowled. That was most definitely not Christine humming, unless perhaps she was trying to punish him by making that awful sound. Rowing over to an outcropping of rock, he stepped out of the boat and called over to the figure silhouetted about twenty feet away menacingly.
"WHO DARES ENTER THE LAIR OF GERIK?"
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Post by Cal on Mar 4, 2008 21:18:45 GMT -5
"Cal dares enter the lair of Gerik!" *She called merrily, continuing her writing undisturbed. It was a human; she had nothing to fear.*
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Post by Gerik on Mar 4, 2008 21:23:44 GMT -5
He stopped short. What the crap kind of answer was that?
"Well...get out!" he shouted awkwardly.
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Post by Cal on Mar 4, 2008 21:25:43 GMT -5
"Shan't!" *She called, grinning over her shoulder infuriatingly. She was minimally dressed, considering the conditions: a remarkably low-cut blouse and only the one skirt, no petticoats. She looked hot with her hair tumbling about her shoulders the way it was, and she knew it. Who knew? Considering it was a man who was calling, perhaps she wouldn't have to kick his ass to get him to leave her alone after all. Smiles had gotten her out of many a situation before.*
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Post by Gerik on Mar 4, 2008 21:34:06 GMT -5
Gerik growled low in his throat. There were few things he hated more than people who were not afraid of him, especially when they were women.
"You are not afraid of Gerik?" he bellowed.
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Post by Cal on Mar 4, 2008 21:38:06 GMT -5
*Well, he was pretty. He had that much going for him.*
"Not iiin the slightest." *She flipped to a new sheet and began writing.*
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Post by Gerik on Mar 4, 2008 21:42:29 GMT -5
He admired her courage. He didn't really want people to be afraid of him, deep down, he wanted them to see how loving and brilliant he was. Maybe this person, whoever she was, could be his match. Maybe this one would finally understand him.
Still standing on the outcropping several feet away, he leaned against the cave wall. "What are you doing down here then?"
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Post by Cal on Mar 4, 2008 21:46:28 GMT -5
"Writing." *She said simply.* "And the cellars weren't somewhere I'd written before."
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Post by Gerik on Mar 5, 2008 0:17:52 GMT -5
Ah, a fellow artist! His moody green eyes brightened.
"What do you write? Music?"
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Post by Cal on Mar 5, 2008 15:48:10 GMT -5
"Words." *She said, gesturing to the papers she'd completed. Right now she was only doing a writer's journal; her stories were back at the castle. The pages were filled with odd observations and nonsensical strings of words (she loved making up words) and whatever had been passing through her brain at the moment. Which was a lot, and that was the reason she wrote at all.*
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Post by Gerik on Mar 5, 2008 18:24:05 GMT -5
Words were better than nothing, he supposed, but this conversation was going nowhere. He tried a different subject. "Are you employed by the opera?"
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Post by Cal on Mar 5, 2008 18:25:56 GMT -5
"No, I'm employed as a housekeeper at a castle outside of Paris. I come into the city at night."
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