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Post by Meg Giry on Jun 11, 2008 21:01:11 GMT -5
"Stranger things have happened, m'sieur," said the new and improved Meg.
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Post by Raoul de Chagny on Jun 11, 2008 21:06:16 GMT -5
*He just blinked confusedly, looking hapless.*
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Post by Meg Giry on Jun 11, 2008 21:09:52 GMT -5
Meg blushed.
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Post by Raoul de Chagny on Jun 11, 2008 21:11:53 GMT -5
"... do you believe her, Meg?" *He finally asked.*
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Post by Meg Giry on Jun 11, 2008 21:14:17 GMT -5
"I- I don't know, really."
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Post by Raoul de Chagny on Jun 11, 2008 21:16:58 GMT -5
"... oh." *He said.*
"Ever so sorry to have bothered you; you must have somewhere to be..."
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Post by Meg Giry on Jun 13, 2008 15:51:36 GMT -5
"It doesn't really matter anymore..."
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Post by Raoul de Chagny on Jun 13, 2008 15:53:17 GMT -5
*That was quite a strange comment, and he wasn't sure exactly how to handle it.*
"I'll just be, er, going, then..."
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Marlow
- Ingenious Pilot -
No. No God.
Posts: 189
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Post by Marlow on Aug 12, 2008 23:49:25 GMT -5
***QUITE SOME TIME LATER****
It was easy enough to be invited into the Opera House--he hadn't imagined he'd need an invitation at first, but then with seventeen floors of goings-on, it made sense that a number of people called the place home. All he'd had to do was stand outside and wait for a doorman to encourage him in.
The place smelled of humanity and set him on edge. He'd only just escaped the clutches of his "Father" and considered himself now on his own, free to explore the city, interact with the humans as he pleased and, most importantly, to create his own children.
The performance had been...interesting, it could not be said that Marlow was any great beacon of cultural experience, but the music had been pleasant enough, the language somewhat familiar (if modernized)...the story vapid and uninteresting to his Strigoi passions. Slipping backstage had been beyond simplicity and he wandered now, attempting to keep to his human appearance, short dark hair, dark eyes, doughy features, slipshod clothes...nothing remarkable. Nothing interesting enough to take a second look at.
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Aug 13, 2008 0:05:01 GMT -5
He had just removed the ugly stage makeup and slipped into more comfortable clothing - something in rich, familiar black pinstripe without all the equally hideous bright colors and breathable textures. Getting out of the shared dressing room, Maleo made his way through the throngs of twittering, giggling dancers and chorus girls who were teasing the laymen, sneering at both sides before he managed to squeeze through. Giving a few uninterested, beauty-pageant waves to other cast members, Maleo felt himself bump into another body - one taller than his own, which made him consider the other something of a new face. "Perdón," he crooned over the happy din, managing to carry over the noise some how as he looked to apologize to the man he carelessly crashed into.
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Marlow
- Ingenious Pilot -
No. No God.
Posts: 189
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Post by Marlow on Aug 13, 2008 0:10:05 GMT -5
The Strigoi was like a wall, didn't even waver when he was knocked into. He tilted his head down and recognized the man as the who sang as a woman--though he doubted any woman could ever have the richness and depth of tone this creature had. Marlow flared his nostrils and took in a salty, spicy scent from the dark man's blood.
"Castrati?" He tilted his head curiously, lips slightly slack, teeth suspiciously pointed (though not needle sharp as they could become) and his voice coming out in some strange accent.
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Aug 13, 2008 0:17:49 GMT -5
"Addams" Maleo "corrected," the bow of his mouth quirking to one side a moment before returning to a neutral position. He knew what the comment meant, of course, but he was still intact. "Though I have made one or two."
The sharpness of the man's mouth had caught his eye, but he gave no real reaction to their appearance other than a momentary widening of his eyes and a slight tilt of his head.
"Yourself?"
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Marlow
- Ingenious Pilot -
No. No God.
Posts: 189
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Post by Marlow on Aug 13, 2008 0:25:16 GMT -5
Were his aim simply to feed, this prattle wouldn't be necessary...but he wanted something more than a victim, something to take away, not a cold drained corpse to leave behind.
"I have not the time for torture." Which wasn't entirely true, of course, but he had never been of a mind to play with his food.
The stagehands and patrons were beginning to clear out for the night, to attend their parties and seek their alley-whores. Marlow's eyes moved from one side to the other, glittering black before settling on the man again, his nostrils working and a slight hiss escaping past his slackened mouth.
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Aug 13, 2008 0:34:16 GMT -5
"Well, if you have the time to sit, we can get out of this bustle and seek higher ground," he replied calmly - no, he had not asked the man's name, but that was the fun in finding out for oneself. Gesturing with his hand, Maleo turned around sharply, weaving his way toward a set of stairs.
"You don't seem to be a fan of the Opera Populare, Señor Alto. At least not a fan they would let in the front door. What brought you here?" he asked over his shoulder as he walked.
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Marlow
- Ingenious Pilot -
No. No God.
Posts: 189
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Post by Marlow on Aug 13, 2008 0:41:04 GMT -5
"I came through the front door. I stood in the auditorium with the stinking throng." He hadn't bought a ticket, but still. It was easy to manipulate the monkeys, when it suited a Strigoi to do so.
He followed. Once they were alone he could take the man and make him his own. The idea thrilled him and he lost some of his human semblance, his skin going translucent and white, his eyes darkening and his claws emerging as he walked.
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