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Post by Erik on Sept 29, 2008 10:02:53 GMT -5
Erik's yellow eyes narrowed in the dark.
"Stop," he said decisively. "If your body reacts in this way, you are doing something wrong. Bring water next time--you will find some at your feet for your use now." Indeed, a bottle sat next to Maleo. One that had not been there a moment before. "Straining will serve no purpose but injury, possibly permanent. One must train, and keep one's instrument in condition for use. If you cannot do that, I cannot teach you."
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Sept 29, 2008 12:16:04 GMT -5
"Ah, forgive me, Angel..." he said to the darkness, stooping to sip at the water that had appeared out of nowhere. Balancing life and undeath was becoming difficult. He would have to complete his transformation to strigoi soon, though he did wonder if it would affect his tutoring.
Leaning against the wall, he stayed in thought for a few moments, nursing the water, feeling his throat relaxing better. "Once I have... healed myself completely, my health will no longer be a concern," said Maleo slowly, nearly drifting from the brick as he took his posture again.
"Please, at your behest, can we continue?" he asked, smiling warmly at the shadow he merely believed to be his host.
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Post by Erik on Sept 29, 2008 12:44:43 GMT -5
"I can teach you little, until you make an effort yourself," Erik said acidly. "Do you wish to court such damage? We will continue, but gently, and for a few minutes only. We cannot continue the difficult work unless I am assured that my investment will not be in vain."
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Sept 29, 2008 14:15:48 GMT -5
"Oh, it shall not be, please, do not think you will have wasted your time. I prefer to push myself a bit... I am sure you can at least appreciate that much..." However, if provoked, the Angel might end their lessons entirely, he feared, and Maleo was not yet ready. And an Addams never gave up!
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Post by Erik on Sept 29, 2008 15:47:49 GMT -5
Erik had to admit that he was prone to the same thing. But he was an exception. He could handle it.
"I can," he said finally. "But that does not alter the reality; if I am to teach you, I require obedience in this matter. Sleep, and nourishment, and protection of your throat from the elements is necessary. And perhaps I can teach you the difference between pushing and straining..."
He proceeded to give Maleo a few technical details, warning signs of when he had gone too far.
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Sept 29, 2008 16:20:16 GMT -5
Listening intently, Maleo made a mental mist list of what the Angel told him, nodding subtley as he was taught.
"Ah... I see, I see... my tutor when I was a boy encouraged me to let out all my breath until I was nearly dizzy..." Then he brought himself to a stop. Was it really his music instructor or family doctrine? He couldn't even remember. "Anyway, yes, I will keep these things in mind." Yes, clear the mind of old knowledge to make room for the new... he reminded himself, bowing to the master.
"I think I am beginning to understand your technique now, Angel. Thank you," he said, bowing himself again. He had forgotten all about the presence behind him, mired now in his lesson and absorbing the help.
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Post by Erik on Sept 29, 2008 16:38:00 GMT -5
"Yes, I believe you are," Erik said, faintly amused. "Go now, and think upon what you have learned; I will see you here again. Remember, two days' time--and you must take care."
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Sept 29, 2008 16:48:27 GMT -5
"Indeed. You as well, Angel." The last was a bit of pleasantry, as he felt rather happy with today's lessons. Heading forward in the tunnel, Maleo kept his hand against the wall as he usually did, feeling his way out.
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Post by Bryan Fury on Sept 29, 2008 16:50:19 GMT -5
Bryan froze where he was. He felt like an idiot for not heading back while the men were making noises and singing, but the machine man had been rather wrapped up in the pretty music, like an animal lulled to sleep.
He could not move now, he'd be heard, but neither could he stay still - the soprano was bearing down on him and they'd surely collide. Scooting back, Bryan shuffled across the small passageway, trying to remain undetected.
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Post by Erik on Sept 29, 2008 17:13:56 GMT -5
"Addams," Erik said softly, with a note of command. "Halt."
He listened. He'd heard something, definitely, and now could detect the faint noise of someone other than them breathing. He recalled Maleo's anxiety over being followed.
It seemed the boy had been right.
His voice floating out of the darkness, edged with power and threatened ire, he said, "Who goes there?"
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Sept 29, 2008 17:23:52 GMT -5
Maleo stopped dead in his tracks, having felt something brush past him with an unfamiliar scent. It was most certainly not the Angel there in the corridor - this smell was muskier, dirty and... oily? Like an old clock, he thought... but still Maleo held his place - even held his breath.
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Post by Bryan Fury on Sept 29, 2008 17:26:43 GMT -5
Dammit... he growled inwardly, tensing, poised to either run or defend himself. With his growing anxiety over fight-or-flight, the clockwork thing in his chest ticked faster, and he instinctively covered up his heart area with his hand, trying to mute the sound.
Not good, not good, not good... were his thoughts as he tried to reconcile with revealing himself or not.
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Post by Erik on Sept 29, 2008 17:49:47 GMT -5
Without warning--or any more warning--Fury found himself shoved up against the wall by an unseen opponent, only his yellow eyes visible in the gloom.
"You follow Senor Addams," Erik hissed. "Why?"
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Post by Bryan Fury on Sept 29, 2008 17:58:39 GMT -5
"Gah!" Bryan found the sudden shove against the wall to be more jarring than he needed, and felt dazed for a couple moments while his brains tried to come back to him. When he finally found he could speak, he realized it was a big hard to do so - the mask covering the right side of his face was crooked, hindering his speech.
"Saw'im comin' down here..." he grunted, trying to form a coherent thought - and a damned good explanation. "I heard'a people dis'ppearin' in these parts'a the House..." he stumbled, his cowboy slang making him harder to understand. "Didn't know he was comin' here t'practice," he grunted further, trying to get out as good a reason as any - and making sure the Opera wasn't short a soprano was a good one, wasn't it?
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Sept 29, 2008 18:00:39 GMT -5
Maleo had no care of whether or not the man's reason was good - just the inherent violence of the moment made him giddy. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he could now see the pale-haired, pale-skinned individual pinned against the wall by nothing more than the dark blot of his tutor's guise.
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