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Post by Ghislain on Oct 21, 2008 20:44:32 GMT -5
Ghislain had originally been watching the goings-on and auditioning on the stage with a small crowd of other musicians he had managed to persuade to attend, but after enough whispering and tittering, one of the gentlemen had explained that he had things to do, and the meeting had broken up. Ghislain had watched them go with a leisurely smile that cattishly hid - or rather, revealed through partial attempts to conceal - his secret, simmering pleasure. Ghislain had been impressed with them, ultimately. Such a long time he had tried to say as much as he could - subtly, at first, then with greater goading - to drive them off. And they'd held out for such a long time, feigning ease if they were more shy, and joining in, to his surprise (although he liked to think nothing surprised him anymore, it was such a pleasant feeling)... But he'd won in the end. Would he ever lose? Was such a thing even possible? Leaning back in the seat he'd taken - towards the middle of the auditorium, eyes on the glory of the Garnier stage - he propped up his legs with a taut elegance and an unrehearsed ease - still, yet suggesting the potentiality of movement - on the back of the seat before him, sliding a hand into the bag he had brought in with him (having left his violin in its case in the practice room).
Hoo dear. Let's see now. Juliette, Les Liaisons dangeureuses, or cher Baudelaire? It was a bit difficult. Baudelaire lost first, he was in the mood for libertinage sans gloom. But Marquis or Vicomte? Put that way, he thought, a smile turning the corner of his mouth upwards, of course the Marquis won. He replaced all but Juliette. After all, Marquis was the higher rank. And Ghislain did support the class system, didn't he? With that thought - about as sobering as gin - he smiled to himself, exposing plenty of teeth to the gloom of the unlit seating area, and began to read about the dear girl's education in that wonderful French convent...
((Tag anybody! Especially anybody who's man (or woman) enough to handle the mocking. ^_~))
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Post by Valmont on Oct 22, 2008 13:12:18 GMT -5
((Cannot... resist...))
Valmont had no business in the Opera. None, that was, but what was his business everywhere: to observe; to ogle without ever giving on that he was, unless of course it suited his purpose; and to stave off the dreary monotony of being fabulously rich, terminally fashionable, and master of his domain.
And to forget Valerie Lambert, though it was part and parcel of his plan of forgetting that he did not admit this to himself. Besides, that grotesque creature Mortimer had mentioned the Opera, and while Valmont was in no hurry to meet the little man again, he'd certainly piqued his curiosity. Valmont had been neglecting the place quite dreadfully lately.
As he strolled about with the air of owning the place, Valmont was disappointed by the lack of activity. True, it was hours before curtain, but shouldn't there be stray ballet morsels tripping about the marbled halls?
Glancing into the auditorium, and expecting to see nothing, Valmont was surprised by the picture of a man so at his ease it nearly threatened his own possessive aura. The man was vaguely familiar, though of course Valmont took little notice of the faces in the pit and did not place him. But there was something insouciant about his elegance, which both attracted Valmont's attention and offended him. Arresting his passage before the door, Valmont entered.
It was not every day one saw de Sade being read openly in public.
"You prefer her to her sister?" Valmont opened, leaning slightly on his walking stick as he halted a few feet from the man.
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 22, 2008 15:45:41 GMT -5
((*dances* This is an example of odd logic, but it will have to work. You know, Ghislain, like, hero-worships the character of Valmont, at least in his own time when Valmont isn't supposed to actually exist.))
Ghislain was, as usual, as always, entirely aware of who passed around him, but did not give it any more thought than it took to be aware of this. If he had cultivated few skills in his lifetime, his mental abilities were occasionally astounding, and he had done it so many times that reading while simultaneously noticing whenever someone passed by him came naturally to the man.
When the passer-by stopped, he couldn't fail to notice. He managed not to look at him and to trust the vague details of his peripheral vision. All things in good time. Look when ready. He paused before answering the question, turning the next page and giving no outward sign - not even tension - that he had even noticed.
"Entirely depends on the nature of that preference. Do I think her sister is an idiot, and she a philosopher? Do I prefer her in this sense?" His tongue touched the ridge of his front teeth momentarily, as though thinking. "Of course. Would I prefer to...engage myself with her?"
The corners of his mouth turned up, a private, personal smile. "Justine is far the more useful in that sense. I think most educated men agree on that." He let the open book rest momentarily on his chest, still holding it carefully, and flicked his eyes up to the pleasantly intruding individual. "And probably all of the women."
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Post by Gawain on Oct 22, 2008 16:11:30 GMT -5
*Gawain lingered at the back of the auditorium, letting his master speak to the man in near privacy. He didn't watch them constantly, his eyes focusing on different parts of the room as they talked.*
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Post by Valmont on Oct 22, 2008 16:17:13 GMT -5
((If it bothers you, we can talk about it. But one thing to remember in a multi-verse rp is that some amount of timey-wiminess must be accepted. We all deal with it in different ways, I'm afraid--my characters generally assume that they are in their own time if they are from the past--as in, Valmont and Mr. Darcy dress as themselves without any sense that this is strange. Characters from the future often must deal with being in the past, but that shifts as well. So it's entirely up to you whether he "recognizes" Valmont or not from the book; it's done both ways.
Think of it as "meta" rather than illogic, and maybe it'll help.))
Valmont's lips quirked up on one side, amused by the man already. He was almost too casual, and he recognized that careful nonchalance well. He did not seem displeased by the interruption, however, and Valmont assumed that the man took his intrusion in the same spirit as he offered it.
"That is fortunate," he replied. "For I have found that the vast majority of women favor Justine, even those who fancy themselves Juliette. A true Juliette might, indeed, be troublesome. But a unique challenge, in her own way."
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 22, 2008 17:20:58 GMT -5
((I was just thinking that there would be this obvious discrepancy but that I wouldn't address it. It's kind of funny that way. It would be hard to play Ghislain understanding who he is. I'll just play him as not recognizing these things as out of the ordinary, but as also not exactly treating them as part of regular life.))
Ghislain pulled the book away slightly as he sat up a bit, body perking up just enough to betray interest, although in more a predatory manner than an overtly pleased one. It was not, however, predatory in the sense that he meant in any way to show malice. Malice! Ghislain hardly knew the meaning of the word - at least, in his own voiced opinion, which always meant so little about his actual one.
"Fitting, isn't it? Juliette did fancy Justine herself," Ghislain said musingly, looking at him with mild approval, lips pursing in thought as the clockwork raced to place the man and figure him out. He did look familiar in some way or other. Ghislain's mind briefly returned him to the books he had been considering reading before, but he returned it to the present with wonder at why it would have done so. "Were you looking for a unique challenge, as you put it? Because..." He smiled, lips now closed, and placed a finger to them. When he removed it and spoke again, his voice was a dramatic whisper, not meant to be actually quiet. "You missed the audition, I believe."
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Post by Valmont on Oct 22, 2008 17:44:51 GMT -5
((That is a safe choice, yes. It may amuse you to note that Valmont is actually aware of the existence of the book, though disregards it as slander as it deviates from his own history and ends quite poorly for him.))
Valmont was well known in Paris and environs, and was used to being scrutinized and recognized. It did not bother him. In fact, one might call it one of his primary functions.
"How sad," he said, left eyebrow calmly elevated. "I do so love a challenge." That was the trouble with being good--the challenges were few and far between. "Were you the auditioner, or auditionee?"
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 23, 2008 8:48:47 GMT -5
((How does this work in with the matter of their supposedly actually being letters? I'd be interested in knowing how much is true and how much isn't.))
Ghislain could barely contain a feral smile, but he was good at controlling his facial expression. A few of the musicians who were hapless enough to be in his company very often had noted that in many ways, Ghislain had been made for the stage. Beyond his abilities to lie, he was always very conscious his body and posturing. But Ghislain had never been interested in theatre, even remotely. He was interested in a more direct approach.
Ghislain lifted the book by the spine with one hand, effectively shutting it, and dropped it into his bag, all without looking away from the man. "Both, I should think," said Ghislain in a reply, tilting his head and flickering his eyes towards the stage briefly, cupping his chin in his hand, then looking back to the man with a curious smile. "I have more than come out on top. Unfortunately - for some - I refer to an audition that many do not realize they have participated in." He parted his lips a moment before speaking, as though to warm his teeth with his breath. "Are you one who normally attends those performances, also?"
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Post by Valmont on Oct 23, 2008 10:23:25 GMT -5
In a sense, it was like looking in a mirror. Ghislain was more conventionally attractive, and the two men came from quite different backgrounds. In essence, they were probably very different. But in terms of presentation, interest, and a barely concealed predatory coolness that sometimes resulted in something uncanny, Valmont and Ghislain were not dissimilar.
Valmont pursed his lips slightly, wondering what sphere this man moved in and why he had not heard of him. At least, so far as he knew. Was he an actor? A musician? Not a gentleman, but perhaps aspiring to that position? Though no one would mistake him for anything but a man, there was a certain feminine grace in his movements--or perhaps it was their calculated (though not at all clumsy) nature--that had an allure Valmont recognized.
"I make no distinction between life and performance," Valmont countered. "Or audition, for that matter." His eyes slipped down Ghislain's form, with more effect than intent.
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 23, 2008 10:43:43 GMT -5
Whether or not it was the man's intention to attract Ghislain's interest - though Ghislain suspected that this was someone who always had a layer on that was meant to captivate those who had the chance to glimpse him - he had very much done so. Ghislain understood the trick. When he strut the streets under the veil of evening, he tried to give off the same impression. Nonetheless, he did not think the man knew what he was getting into. Ghislain was notoriously tenacious and very hard to bend to one's will. But if he liked the thought of a challenge...he would certainly be getting one.
"No? I do," said Ghislain, shifting slightly, moving his hand from his face to his thigh, deliberately and easily, although acted as though he paid it no mind. "I derive a subtle pleasure from applying the rules from one to the other and watching everyone else scramble to find a new position." He gave the chaotic, almost childish word - not from any literate man's vocabulary - a particular stress that made it sound quite euphemistic.
((I really haven't played Ghislain in forever. <.< Gods, but his dialog is so hard to write.))
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Post by Valmont on Oct 23, 2008 14:10:54 GMT -5
Valmont was now convinced the man was playing with him, and quite deliberately. Not that he minded, or really thought more of it beyond that. Life was full of such performances, and was dreadfully dull without new people and new scenarios to play out.
"Then you believe there is a sphere in which the mask is stripped away, and you are yourself?" Valmont queried, his head tilted just slightly to the side. "There is quite a difference between using the distinctions of society for one's amusement and believing there is, a priori, a distinction."
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 23, 2008 14:30:48 GMT -5
Ghislain smiled, amused, and wagged a finger at the gentleman - for that was what it was he was, and Ghislain was surprised that he'd been thrown off for any period of time - as though chiding a child.
"There is life, and there is performance. And life is meant to be liberated, orderly - it has the potential for growth, we are each of us equal in the eyes of destiny." He brought his finger to his lips again, as though to shush him. He had lowered his voice again, as though imparting a scandalous secret, when he spoke once more. "Performance is artificial. In a play, some characters are...expendable." He lifted one eyebrow as though see if the man could keep up. Pretending that people in real life, with their equal significance in humanity taken into account, were no more than pawns as they might be in a game of chess or a delightful novel, was terribly libertine a lifestyle. But Ghislain was a terrible libertine, and, though he might protest it takes a very good heart to do so, somehow managed to forgive himself for it in the end.
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Post by Mercutio on Oct 23, 2008 15:06:39 GMT -5
(( THIS THREAD. I LIKE IT. ))
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 23, 2008 15:12:25 GMT -5
((HOO BOY. Cheers!))
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Post by Valmont on Oct 23, 2008 17:41:01 GMT -5
Was the man lecturing him? The thought amused him, especially coming from one openly reading de Sade while draped with careful abandon over velvet chairs.
"It is there we must part company, then, sir." Valmont's smile was subtle, and subtly uneven, as if meant only for himself even if he permitted you a glimpse of it. He switched his stick to his other hand, playing with a bit of lace at his cuff. "Destiny is a most unequal force, as those of us who have benefited from that inequality have cause to know. I see no distinction, still, in your proposed spheres. 'Equality' is a word with which the unfortunate console themselves."
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