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Post by Johanna de Chagny on May 27, 2008 20:44:51 GMT -5
"You were a ward, too?"
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Post by James Matthew on May 27, 2008 20:53:50 GMT -5
"Well, that's better than 'freeloader'."
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Post by Johanna de Chagny on May 27, 2008 20:58:12 GMT -5
"Oh."
*She liked him. He was able to maintain a conversation without waving his hands in a dramatic manner or using words he clearly had no understanding of.*
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Post by James Matthew on May 27, 2008 21:07:27 GMT -5
"James Matthew Bittern."
((OH YES I WENT THERE.))
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Post by Johanna de Chagny on May 27, 2008 21:12:04 GMT -5
"Johanna Barker."
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Post by James Matthew on May 28, 2008 16:21:45 GMT -5
He crossed to where she was and kissed her hand.
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Post by Johanna de Chagny on May 28, 2008 16:22:39 GMT -5
*To say that Johanna was totally floored by this gesture would be entirely accurate*
"Oh, sir..."
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Post by James Matthew on May 28, 2008 16:26:57 GMT -5
He smiled.
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Post by Johanna de Chagny on May 28, 2008 20:34:16 GMT -5
*She blushed*
"You seem quite a gentleman."
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Post by Marquis de Carabas on Aug 18, 2008 23:19:49 GMT -5
**NEW DAY**
*The Marquis was lounging in the main room of the house that he was currently using as his, sorting the contents of his many mysterious pockets. An apple, still fresh and perfect, a piece of multicolored string, some oddly shaped stones, bones that could have been from a mouse or a rat or Something Else, a small carving, and many other curious objects found their way from his pockets to the table, and into a different pocket entirely.*
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kitteh
- In the Duggins -
Posts: 55
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Post by kitteh on Aug 18, 2008 23:24:25 GMT -5
Something was coming. One could tell, by the tension in the air. Something big, something awful, something...adorable.
Surely the Marquis would be able to sense it. Someone such as him, it was impossible for him not to feel it. The sense of anticipation was so palpable as to be nearly unbearable, and anyone with half a mind might have wondered why exactly there was such a feeling of anticipation if they were not the ones actually feeling it.
Somewhere, somehow, there was the faint impression of a furry bottom wagging from side to side. A tail whipped about, a pair of eyes were intent.
And then- it pounced.
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Post by Marquis de Carabas on Aug 18, 2008 23:41:09 GMT -5
*He turned his head the moment before it pounced- just in time to see a small, furry black thing launch itself at him. At his foot.
For a moment, he thought it was a rat, but upon closer inspection, it was a very small cat. And it was enthusiastically attacking his boot. With a sigh, he reached down and picked up the tiny animal by the scruff of its neck.*
"What," *he asked, in a dignified and reproachful manner,* "do you think you're doing?"
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kitteh
- In the Duggins -
Posts: 55
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Post by kitteh on Aug 18, 2008 23:51:31 GMT -5
The kitten gnawed happily on the Marquis' shoe, the expression on its little scrunched-up face best described as OM NOM NOM. It let out an undignified little squeak when the Marquis swung it up to face level, and for a several seconds it simply hung there and stared back at him. It looked incredibly surprised to have been interrupted, but kittens tended to look like that all the time.
After a moment of thought, it squeaked again.
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Post by Marquis de Carabas on Aug 19, 2008 0:01:48 GMT -5
*He frowned, wondering how it had gotten in, and where it had come from. It didn't seem to be anything but a normal kitten, though he was feeling rather shocked. And indignant. But they weren't his ow feelings. He narrowed his eyes at the little creature.*
"Go home," *he told it, before setting it down on the ground again.*
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kitteh
- In the Duggins -
Posts: 55
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Post by kitteh on Aug 19, 2008 0:08:15 GMT -5
The kitten danced around in a little circle indignantly, bouncing up once and coming down hard on its front paws before staring pointedly at the Marquis. Then it jumped into his lap, whirled around in a high-speed sort of shuffle, and made a flying leap for the table and all the things the Marquis had removed from his pocket and had yet to relocate into another one.
It landed in a skid, objects skittering away and off the table. The kitten made a particularly determined attempt at the apple, apparently decided it was too big, and then went after the string instead.
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