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Post by Lady Norrington on Apr 28, 2007 17:19:37 GMT -5
Megan was gathering the broken glass after Erik left.
She'd have scoffed at the idea before her encounter with Erik today, but she'd discovered that it really was possible to feel hopelessly torn between two emotions. On the one hand, she was a little disappointed that her attempts at softening Erik and earning his trust had failed so badly. But on the other hand, he seemed sworn to tolerating her as long as he felt she knew too much, and as such, she would be in his house as- well, he called her his prisoner or his slave, but Megan preferred to think of herself as his maid or assistant.
After she had gathered all the large pieces of glass, Megan began looking for a trash bin to throw them into. She found one in...
"The library?" Megan gasped.
She dropped the glass in the bin and immediately began looking at the gold-stamped leather spines of the hundreds of books.
It was then that a very strange feeling came over her. A feeling that made her want...
To sing.
"Machiavelli... Sherlock Holmes, Charles Perrault..."
She sucked on her injured finger in excitement for a moment.
"Dracula and Goethe..."
She looked around at the shelves surrounding her and did a giddy sort of Sound-of-Music spin whilst exclaiming exultantly:
"I know you all!"
Totally enraptured, she took a clean tissue out of her bag and started dusting the books.
"Oh, I've been waiting for this moment Oh, it seems like all my life Here I am - my head is spinning Because I'm finally living the life that I dreamed It seems I've been waiting forever!"
She grinned fondly at each book as she passed it.
"Socrates and Aristotle Dickens and Mary Shelley Geoffey Chaucer, Chanson de Roland... I always knew you'd all be here for me! Here and now nothing matters Everything I wanted's here I feel at home, I've found my place All this beauty before me was out of my reach I never imagined such wonder-"
Suddenly, she felt a hand clamp on her shoulder.
Silently, she turned around and saw that her new master had not left.
"...Sorry," she whispered.
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Post by Erik on Apr 28, 2007 17:32:55 GMT -5
*Erik was, in fact, extraordinarily efficient. So he'd returned quickly, having recalled the mess she'd made when trying to clean up the first time. He'd taken her measurements visually and was certain that the costumes he'd chosen--all slightly amusing when worn offstage--would fit her. If she lived long enough to wear them.
But she was not in the parlor, and a strange noise was coming from the library. He stiffened, threw the costumes down in a heap, and followed it. Peering around the corner, he saw the woman singing... to the books. He shook his head--surely she had escaped from an institution.
His hand on her shoulder made her stop, mercifully. She didn't sound awful or anything, but what was the point?*
"They aren't singing back to you, are they?" *he asked, just to be sure.*
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Post by Lady Norrington on Apr 28, 2007 17:37:18 GMT -5
Megan looked at him and actually smiled a little bit.
"I don't know what came over me," she said in embarassment. "It's just that I've never seen a library like this one. It's incredible!"
Looking around the room again, she continued, "I feel like Belle, in that part where the-"
She stopped, doubting he was familiar with the Disney Beauty and the Beast, and not wanting to compare him to a Beast. She cleared her throat. "That's what I do when I clean. I sing."
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Post by Erik on Apr 29, 2007 19:18:57 GMT -5
((Okay, wait. I totally replied to this yesterday. I wonder what happened? I probably closed the window without hitting post, or something. Because I've only been using teh interwebs for 17 years...))
*Erik stared at her for a moment in unblinking incomprehension. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He wasn't sure whether "belle" referred to "beautiful" or the item of dubious musical merit, but neither was contextually possible.
No matter.*
"Dear god, preserve me. Did de Chagny send you to drive Erik mad?" *He considered that.* "Madder? Or the daroga--you're some sort of ill-considered prank, aren't you?"
*He pointed to the pile of costumes just outside the library door.*
"There are your clothes." *He smirked inwardly, thinking about the milkmaid's outfit, the viking warrior, and the other outfits he'd procured.* "You may touch the books if you must, but if Erik finds one leaf disturbed, one title out of place, he will use your hide to bind his next score."
*He turned to do something, anything, else, then swiveled back abruptly.*
"And if you must utter nonsense, do it so that Erik cannot hear."
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Post by Lady Norrington on Apr 29, 2007 19:30:15 GMT -5
Megan followed in silence and began digging through the pile of clothes Erik had brought for her. Most of them were rather ruffly and ridiculous, but she figured that she'd have to make do with what she had.
The milkmaid dress was her definite favorite so far; it was actually rather pretty in a death-by-pastels kind of way. As long as she avoided wearing the hat that went with it, she figured it wouldn't look too ridiculous.
After that came Marguerite's dirndl from Faust, which she set aside with the milkmaid dress as being presentable enough should Erik ever have guests (when pigs fly, she thought with surprising nastiness). The last of the reasonably sensible ones was some kind of Gypsy getup; she made a mental note to remove the coins from the sash next time Erik let her have a free moment.
The next set of outfits were in another category all together. The monstrosity that comprised the armor of some shrieking Wagner heroine (Megan decided that she would only wear the undershift from that one; though the breast-cups could probably be used to carry water), the gilded confection of Elissa's dress from Hannibal ((not THAT Hannibal)), and the weird, clingy thing that was the Queen of the Night's robe.
After mentally sorting the costumes, Megan looked at Erik and grinned almost conspiratorially.
"Ooh, Carlotta's going to be pissed!" she giggled.
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Post by Erik on Apr 29, 2007 19:39:09 GMT -5
*Erik frowned. His use of the vernacular was somewhat dated, but he doubted words changed much with the decades.*
"In what way will the appropriation of her costumes cause Carlotta to become drunk?" *he asked without thinking.* "Besides which, Carlotta has more to worry about if she returns than a few pilfered trifles. Which, Erik might add, she does not own."
*He stopped, wondering why he was talking so much.*
"Put those costumes away!" *he demanded shortly.* "You would make Erik's house into a haberdashery?"
*He spun on his heel and stalked to the organ, where he played absently as he mulled over why this girl wasn't dead, why he'd let her stay, and whether she actually had a name.*
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Post by Lady Norrington on Apr 29, 2007 19:45:28 GMT -5
((Oh. Time for introduction, I guess.))
Megan quickly shoved the costumes underneath the chaise he'd designated as her new bed and pulled the dust ruffle down to cover them as much as possible (somehow, she wouldn't put it past him to get infuriated with her if they showed). She then neatened herself up as much as possible (not much) and spent a moment looking for a mirror before she realized... Oh. Never mind.
She watched him play for a few moments, then at a slightly quieter interlude said, "My name is Megan, by the way."
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Post by Erik on Apr 29, 2007 19:53:23 GMT -5
*Erik spun around, nearly as livid as the horrible moment Christine had removed his mask and opened his mouth to rail at her. But he stopped, overwhelmed suddenly with disbelief.*
"What kind of name is Megan?" *he demanded.*
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Post by Lady Norrington on Apr 29, 2007 19:55:55 GMT -5
Megan thought about it for a moment.
"It's Irish, I think," she said. "Started out as a pet name for Margaret and got to be a name on its own."
She shrugged.
"And I always have to remind people of how to spell it."
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Post by Erik on Apr 29, 2007 20:11:06 GMT -5
"Well... Erik doesn't care how you spell it," *Erik said, though he did think it'd be regrettable if anyone thought his name had a "c." Accidental as his name might be, Eric-with-a-c was just weak.*
"And don't interrupt Erik's playing," *he said absently.*
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Post by Lady Norrington on Apr 29, 2007 20:14:37 GMT -5
"I'm not Irish, though," she added, thinking that at this point it was best to get everything out at once. "I'm mostly Norwegian. You know, Scandinavian country? Near Sweden? Yes."
Just as he started playing again, she cut in with "It's M-E-G-A-N. Remember that."
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Post by Erik on Apr 30, 2007 11:08:03 GMT -5
*Erik slammed his fingers on the keyboard in a forceful minor diminished chord before turning slightly.*
"Why on Earth should Erik care where you're from? Your presence is disturbing enough; your origins are of less importance than the spelling of your absurd name, which Erik will never need. Useless knowledge!"
*He stood up from the organ, no longer in the mood.*
"Should Erik ever need to spell your name, he will do so as G-N-A-T, for you pester him quite as much!"
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Post by Lady Norrington on Apr 30, 2007 11:12:32 GMT -5
She tried to stop him from leaving.
"Oh, come on! Can't you play at least a little longer? I'll shut up this time if you need me to- do you know the Saint-Saens 'Danse Macabre'? I love that one."
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Post by Erik on Apr 30, 2007 11:43:37 GMT -5
*Erik wasn't sure whether he was more insulted at her being demanding or at her implication that he might not know Saint-Saens.*
"Erik is not anyone's trained monkey, nor even their organ grinder. Erik plays what he wishes, when he wishes, and without interruption. Is that clear?"
*He spun, sat down again, and began playing something lively and cheerful by Bach. That would show her! He was beginning to suspect he wasn't punishing her at all by keeping her here.*
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Post by Lady Norrington on Apr 30, 2007 11:46:21 GMT -5
Megan sat down, a little surprised at his choice, and watched him.
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