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Post by Grantaire on May 13, 2009 21:13:11 GMT -5
His jaw danced a bit and his cheeks colored only slightly with the poor fluid under his skin.
"No. I don't know. I want him to think me better than I am. For a while at least."
Grantaire retook his seat on the ottoman.
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Post by Jean-François de Morangias on May 15, 2009 9:29:49 GMT -5
*Jean-François stood motionless, not conceding to return to the chair just yet. There was a brief silence, his thoughts wrapping cruelly to a specific point.*
"Tell me his name." *He said, an air of detachment apparent.* "And I will let you stay."
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Post by Grantaire on May 15, 2009 9:31:53 GMT -5
He frowned a bit and shifted slightly on the stool, his hands folded demurely between his knees, his arms keeping him modestly covered.
"W...why?"
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Post by Jean-François de Morangias on May 15, 2009 9:35:51 GMT -5
"Why?" *He countered easily.* "Because that is the price."
*Jean-François tilted his head coyly.*
"Come now, you should be familiar enough with the concept of barter."
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Post by Grantaire on May 15, 2009 9:41:29 GMT -5
"It's Brishen. I don't know if he has a family name."
Grantaire shivered a bit and wrapped his arms around his skinny frame, suddenly wanting the night to be over, to return to the dingy little room he shared with his dark-skinned friend where there would be a fire waiting, and a pitcher of water and a comfortable spread to sleep on...
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Post by Jean-François de Morangias on May 15, 2009 9:50:57 GMT -5
Brishen. Surely there are not too many of those in Paris.
*Too be honest, Jean-François had expected more resistance on the point, but price met, he strode back to the chair and sat. Without another word, he picked up where he'd left off, pulling the needle through the man's skin.*
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Post by Grantaire on May 15, 2009 10:03:04 GMT -5
He hissed and leaned over forward to expose his back, curling his hands over his knees, white-knuckled.
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Post by Jean-François de Morangias on May 19, 2009 7:19:09 GMT -5
"There now." *Jean-François said coolly as he finished, carefully looping the thread over his blade to cut the spare away.*
"So...tell me about this...Brishen." *He smiled, wondering if it was possible that all torture might not be physical.*
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Post by Grantaire on May 19, 2009 12:24:33 GMT -5
"Why do you want to know? You can't send your monster after him without his scent." he grumbled and sat up as straight as his own disgust would allow him.
"He worked for my father."
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Post by Jean-François de Morangias on May 20, 2009 8:05:42 GMT -5
Perhaps it is not the Beast that I will send.
*Jean-François mussed privately, cruel smile starting to twist once more as he leaned back in his chair.*
"But no longer? You didn't get him fired to keep him for yourself, did you?" *The questioning was strangely casual.*
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Post by Grantaire on May 22, 2009 2:53:52 GMT -5
"He left my father's farm with me to keep me safe from Julian. We ran out of money and found an automaton girl and came back to Paris. We're not lovers."
Grantaire arched his back to stretch out his hot and sore muscles, the general prickle in his back dulled to a numb sort of radiant pain, like his skin was being pricked with needles, but far away from his body.
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Post by Jean-François de Morangias on May 23, 2009 11:57:37 GMT -5
*An odd story indeed, Jean-François realized, delightfully amused. It seemed that the man would go all out on it, trying to make things far more fantastical than realistic, but at least there still might be some morsels of truth. And he did seem to cling to one fact in particular.*
"But you wish to be." *He stated bluntly.* "What, the boy won't have you?"
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Post by Grantaire on May 23, 2009 23:47:19 GMT -5
"Of course not. Who would?"
He hmphed and stood up from the ottoman, moving over to the divan and flopping down on it since there were no other demands being made of him.
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Post by Jean-François de Morangias on May 26, 2009 15:47:30 GMT -5
*Jean-François arched a brow in answer.*
"You seem to be keeping yourself in wine and water. You've bathed somewhat recently and aren't living on the street." *He deduced coolly.*
"It's quite obvious that you still manage to ply your trade."
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Post by Grantaire on May 27, 2009 14:02:49 GMT -5
"That's entirely different. Any hole for a night will do--you would know that, I imagine."
He grinned, his gargoyle face splitting open. "Would you want to wake up next to this every morning?"
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