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Post by Lady Norrington on May 1, 2007 18:18:53 GMT -5
The following was posted on Erik's door:
Things I need -Flesh-colored latex (at least you-colored) -Spirit gum -Makeup and sponges -A mirror -Foundation -Eyebrow pencil -Neutral lipstick -Flesh putty -Fixative
In the kitchen, Megan was wearing the milkmaid dress and making pancakes.
"Good morning!"
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Post by Erik on May 2, 2007 2:40:38 GMT -5
*Erik woke, strangely refreshed from his sleep-of-the-dead; a highly unusual state for him. Not that he was ever less than spry, but the years had taken some of the relief out of sleep. He'd locked his door carefully, several times, the night before, and today he was glad to see that it had deterred his... could she be called a stalker?
He examined the paper that had fluttered to his notice, frowning all the while. What a list! What could she want with these things? What the devil was fixative?
Erik strode to the kitchen, paper in hand, ready to wave it in her face. But he was halted in his tracks by her outfit. Well, he'd chosen it. He'd just figured she'd be too embarrassed to actually wear any of them. Not that it didn't suit her, in a strange way. Better her than Carlotta, at any rate.*
"Please refrain from ebullient salutations," *he said. And recovered, he did, in fact, wave the paper in her face.* "What's this about, then? I don't think all this would suit you."
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Post by Lady Norrington on May 2, 2007 9:48:57 GMT -5
"It's not for me," Megan said lightly. "It's for you. Those are the supplies I'll need if you want me to try to build you a face."
She flipped over one of the pancakes.
"You do want me to build you a face, right?"
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Post by Erik on May 2, 2007 11:44:16 GMT -5
*Erik watched the action on the stove for a moment. Pancakes... when was the last time he ate pancakes?*
"Well... I suppose. You can try," *he said begrudgingly.*
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Post by Lady Norrington on May 2, 2007 11:45:14 GMT -5
"Not until after breakfast!" Megan replied cheerfully. "Where do the plates live, anyway?"
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Post by Erik on May 2, 2007 13:54:18 GMT -5
"You are very cheerful for a slave," *Erik remarked as he opened a cupboard and lifted two plates out. Christine had reorganized everything early in their association, and though he had railed at her for "moving Erik's things," he found himself clinging to the structure she'd placed on his household.*
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Post by Lady Norrington on May 2, 2007 13:56:34 GMT -5
"I prefer to think of myself as an indentured servant," Megan replied as she slid a stack onto one of the plates. She opened and shut a few drawers until she found some silverware and carried it out to the table.
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Post by Lady Norrington on May 2, 2007 15:08:06 GMT -5
"Oh, by the way, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," she added as she set the table. "Why do you always talk in the third person?"
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Post by Erik on May 2, 2007 15:31:35 GMT -5
*Erik walked out to the table and sat, but rose again when she emerged with the second plate.*
"You don't intend to eat here," *he said flatly.*
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Post by Lady Norrington on May 2, 2007 15:35:06 GMT -5
"What?" said Megan, confused.
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Post by Erik on May 2, 2007 15:56:21 GMT -5
*Erik was silent a moment, certain she'd not be obtuse enough to miss his meaning.*
"Erik eats alone," *he said stiffly, when no reply was forthcoming.*
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Post by Lady Norrington on May 2, 2007 16:00:06 GMT -5
"Oh..." Megan murmured. "Is it because you have to... take it off? Because I can put my back to you."
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Post by Erik on May 2, 2007 16:06:21 GMT -5
"Well Erik can't very well eat through it," *he said irritably, but he considered her solution. If she was to stay here, and he had established she must, she would most likely be eating several times a day. As would he.*
"Very well. But none should have to gaze upon Erik's face while eating. It is no aid to the appetite."
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Post by Lady Norrington on May 2, 2007 16:13:41 GMT -5
"Okay," Megan answered with a nod of the head. She set her plate down for a moment, went to the opposite end of the table, turned a chair so it faced away from him, brought her plate to the chair, and sat down so that the table was beside her.
"Not looking!" she announced, feeling as though she were telling her brother that he could run from the shower to his bedroom with only a towel on.
She heard the soft thump of the mask being set on the table. For a moment, she sat there, unmoving, before pulling her plane of unbuttered, syrup-free pancakes onto her lap. She was suddenly glad for the seating arrangement herself- he wouldn't be able to see her tear the pancakes with her bare hands.
"So if I'm successful with the plan," she asked, trying to make conversation, "what's the first thing you'll want to do?"
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Post by Erik on May 2, 2007 16:34:31 GMT -5
((What is she doing tearing pancakes with her bare hands? He's got more than one set of silver, you know.))
*Erik watched her arrange herself, waiting until he was satisfied she would keep her word. Not that he'd take his eyes off her. The pancakes were... well, they appeared to contain food items, and were therefore edible. Erik liked how butter made them mushy. It was really all about texture these days.
He also approved highly of his calm at her next question, despite the part of him that said Good God, was she going to talk all the time?*
"Seek Christine out and inform her of my new circumstances."
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