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Post by Ghislain on Oct 24, 2008 13:37:03 GMT -5
Ghislain smiled still, inwardly enormously pleased with the response. He was overfond of those members of society whose god was decorum, who worshiped at their titles. Everyone in Ghislain's mental makeup, from his political socialism to his reading of Enlightenment literature, was predisposed towards equality, but he had always enjoyed to take advantage of those who did not seem to realize what he believed he knew to be true. But those like this man - ones who actually believed in a sort of superiority - they took advantage of the supposed-inequal with a religious grace. They believed in the divinity of their station, and could exert so much more will than Ghislain could. He knew the game was a false one, and so only played it. This man was one of those who lived it. It was too charming, and one of the few things Ghislain found admirable.
It was with his pleasure at this man's conversation written in the lines of his body that he leaned forward, made a gesture with his hand as though motioning him over, and said, "Incorrect. Misfortune is the last venue of consolation the equal have left to take. To escape from the knowledge that one is as dull as one's neighbor, one must throw oneself under the wheel."
He crossed himself with the same hand he'd gestured with, and laughed more as though to himself than to the gentleman, leaning back in his chair and re-crossing his legs.
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Post by Valmont on Oct 27, 2008 13:01:34 GMT -5
The man had the air of having made a pronouncement, which amused Valmont as he wondered whether the fellow made a habit of proclaiming things and then sitting back to read the effect of his oh-so-shocking opinions in the faces of his audience. It was not an impulse Valmont was unfamiliar with, though he had somewhat outgrown the public need for it.
"I cannot speak to that from experience," he said placidly, though his own enjoyment in the conversation was revealed by a slight tilt of his head. "Never having been nearly as dull as my neighbor. Though I wholeheartedly approve of the practice--in other people."
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 27, 2008 14:35:05 GMT -5
Ghislain leaned forward and winked. "Which is exactly the response those other people are looking for. Equality or no, every man feels misfortune is his own private province. And, if you will on account of my charm forgive me for stating the obvious, one can only be an unfortunate if there is another who benefits from it."
He had used the word man deliberately, to be deviant. Typically, in such a conversation, another man might have spoken lecherously of masochism in the female organism. Ghislain had politics in mind, and the politics of human relations, which translated very quickly to saying that masochism was not the province of the lady. It was one thing that this fine gentleman read de Sade, but a great many people did that to be fashionable. It was the rare person who took him seriously. And Ghislain was a born envelope-pusher. Nothing interested him more - indeed, he was a person rarely interested - than seeing just how closely entwined a man's opinions were with whatever he put on to be fashionable. The person who was his clothes would have been a fascinating study for him. He was still not entirely certain which category he himself fell into. Certainly, he lied enormously, but by the end of the day, he was not Ghislain without his clothes on, and indeed, with many sorts of clothes on, he was not Ghislain then, either. How intriguing! Perhaps he was never Ghislain, and could only compare himself to the man, more chimera than man, in the end.
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Post by Valmont on Oct 27, 2008 14:58:01 GMT -5
Valmont caught the "man" in the sentence, and wondered if this was the sort who read de Sade and bombarded strangers at length with politics and philosophy without putting it to the test. Sexual creature that he was, the idea that the young man deliberately meant to hint at his own proclivities or his interest--however cursory--in Valmont himself did not go unthought. But it was not the only possibility, and Valmont liked to keep all avenues of entertainment open. To be sure, he enjoyed de Sade and agreed in large part with his views on the world. But Valmont was not nearly so thoughtful or systematic, nor did he require the heights of perversity that suffused the Marquis' writing (though he enjoyed them when offered or at his own whim). His personal, unvoiced philosophy was not of the bedroom but rather of making all rooms antechambers to it, the chase nearly as, if not more, exciting than the kill.
The man's charm was of course commendable, if overt; though that, too, could be charming in itself. "Then the benefactor is indeed providing a service to the demonstrative unfortunate, is he not? The latter's status is wholly at the mercy of the former. Or do you, in the name of 'equality,' espouse the ideal of Utopia where such divisions are erased and everyone is exactly as dull as his neighbor, with no recourse to wheels at all?"
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 27, 2008 15:09:33 GMT -5
"Lord, no," said Ghislain, taking the Lord's name in vain in a soft, musing tone of voice, rather than loudly. It was as though he meant something very specific by it, and was subverting the idiomatic usage of it to some other purpose. I wouldn't know exactly where to begin in a world without wheels....turning, turning." The smile that grew only seemed to heighten the effect. It was as though none of the words meant their literal, mundane interpretations, as though they were euphemisms for something else, and his index finger, lifted like the conductor's baton Ghislain was so familiar with, traced a lazy circle in the air as he spoke, his eyes lifted calculatingly to the ceiling. Then he stopped and shrugged, gaze dropping nonchalantly to the floor.
"But, for the former, indeed. The latter has made the decision to place himself in the hands of the master, hasn't he? Therefore the only breach of trust would be for said benefactor to return him to the equality he has left." Ghislain lifted his eyes to the man's sharply, and said, with the glee of a schoolboy shoving a pin into a lovely girl's thigh, torment being the only method of fondness he can show, "But you realize, of course, that the master is only master because he he has been chosen as one. A man can never exert his power over another." He tilted his head, upsetting his hair as he did so, watching keenly. "You are only master if someone else, through their power, has chosen you for the part, and therefore remain at the mercy of the man you govern."
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Post by Valmont on Oct 27, 2008 16:34:36 GMT -5
Valmont's lips pursed in a moue of amusement that might, perhaps, be mistaken for pique. Sometimes the two were not far removed from each other, so habituated he was to the pleasure of discomfort. He was not uncomfortable now, but he was aware of the delight the other man took in executing his thrust.
"But you deal in such exclusive relationships," he parried. "You assume that the master was chosen and granted power by those currently governed, rather than either the masters of old or the great mass of governed who allow the practice to continue over generations. Individuals are both powerless and disposable, in that sense. There are always men--and women--willing to fill that void, should the master have need of them. Thus the proletariat can never rule, for they would be constitutionally unable to retain such power, even were it to be given them. Mastery resides not only in the hierarchy but in the willingness to bend others to one's will. One may have either in one's favor, but it requires both to rule. A true master, with the will in his blood, will rise in whatever society he find himself in."
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 27, 2008 17:33:59 GMT -5
Ghislain let his head slip into his palm, smiling up at him as though meant to put him into discomfort.
"I agree entirely," he said, preparing in his mind the explanation for such contradictory statement. "There are masters and there are those fit for nothing but governance." Leaning forward further, and dropping his voice just a bit that the listener might find it wise to do the same, he continued with his final bit of cleverness. "But the latter category merely belongs to that of the Equals who do not desire to master anybody. By exerting one's will over a man of such a nature, whether to force him to dominate one or to be dominated by one, one is assuming master status."
He looked up at him intently for a moment, scarcely blinking, then leaned back and moistened his lips unthinkingly, returning his voice to its normal volume, speaking conversationally. "Of course, this theory has not yet had room for the figure of the true master who exerts his will over another man to dominate him, when that other man is also a true master, exerting his own will over the first to be dominated. What a mess! What a - " He stopped himself, quite deliberately, the whole statement having a ring of artificiality, but spoken so fluidly as to appear natural and learned, and averted his eyes as though being shy. "But forgive me, sir," he said, after another pause, eyes still downcast, but the tone of amusement in his voice giving away the ruse, which was, after all, meant to be given away. "I betray my preferences. Although...if you hadn't known them from the start of this conversation," and after all, it had begun with his reading de Sade, "you would be a terrible philosophe."
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Post by Valmont on Oct 28, 2008 15:43:26 GMT -5
Valmont had leaned closer as Ghislain's nonverbal invitation, allowing himself to be drawn in as if fascinated, fixing heavy-lidded eyes that blinked only infrequently on the man's face. The sudden coyness of the young man was an obvious put-on, and just as obvious to Valmont was the man's knowledge that Valmont knew it was. It delighted him, but quietly, for he as yet had no designs on the boy, merely patterns playing themselves out without discernible purpose.
"My dear boy," he nearly purred, the corners of his lips lifting slightly from the thin bow of his mouth, "you assume I admit to preference being a factor at all."
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 28, 2008 16:19:11 GMT -5
Presume? Did he? Well, he'd never considered anything like that. It didn't show on his face, but he was momentarily taken aback. He took rather too seriously, at times, what other people said to him, giving them that power over him, the power of the truth. And he did this most noticeably with people who were obviously toying with him just as he did with them, and with others. He wondered if he did not do it deliberately, just to feel disoriented. He felt the sensation too terribly often, and sensations were, after all, his primary interest.
But as with most sensations - Ghislain being notoriously capricious, and having a difficult time staying with one feeling over another - the excess of it was brief, and plunged Ghislain back into his accustomed feeling of self-control. He was used to that; and having a lack of control of oneself was a rare treat. So far, he had never felt controlled by another person. He wondered, smiling almost grudgingly, appraising the strengths of the man standing before him, whether he was up for that or not.
"Presumptuous, am I?" asked Ghislain, sounding amused - an inflection of the voice that was put on, although normally it was one of his most common states of being. "What a pity I can't seem to govern myself. Dear sir, I don't need you to admit to it. I am sure that you very much heed one's preferences. How else would you violate them?"
He felt certain he was right in this. Perhaps the good sir did not abide by those preferences, but Ghislain felt that he - just as Ghislain did - took great interest in learning the likes and norms of others, whether he intended to fulfill them or not.
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Post by Valmont on Oct 28, 2008 16:56:21 GMT -5
It was the most palpable hit yet, and Valmont had to give it to him.
"Touché," Valmont murmured, the small smile lingering. "I had no idea I was so transparent." Of course, he had not intended to be anything but in this regard, so any "transparency" was calculated as well. The man's language was playing into the Valmont-as-master theme, as Valmont knew the man was aware: "govern myself" indeed, and he wondered how overt the young man intended to be. Probably exactly as overt as he seemed, no more, no less. "But acknowledgment for one's personal entertainment is not necessarily the same as letting the fact dictate one's actions."
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 28, 2008 17:13:07 GMT -5
"Mm, I am clearly being presumptuous in this regard," said Ghislain rather lazily, folding his arms behind his head and gazing up at the man curiously, eyes like a haze of smoke had passed over them. He pursed his lips in thought in an almost sensuous manner. "I simply assumed that if one admits knowledge for one's own pleasure, one is behaving based upon that knowledge so as to receive the reaction that would give one the greatest pleasure, and isn't that letting the fact dictate one's actions?"
This tied into his larger theme in a very delightful way, and he repositioned himself yet again - many others before had noted the violinist's inability to stay still, and many others were likely to before his time was done - so that he had turned to face the man, his elbows resting on the arm of one of the auditorium chairs, his fingers cupping the palm of one hand. "Once again, one's assumption of the "master" role - or its, admittedly filthy, opposite," (what pleasure Ghislain took in that adjective!), "does not necessarily correspond to one's mastery of oneself. The master even moreso than the servant is bound by strict rules - the best ones do, at any rate. A man who takes that name does not deserve it if he is careless of the whims and wishes of the enslaved, for the enslaved will react very little to his actions, and there might as well be no relations between the two at all."
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Post by Valmont on Oct 28, 2008 17:47:26 GMT -5
"You are correct, of course, in what you say," said Valmont. He himself, though capable of nearly feral movement, was frequently almost unnaturally still, and he watched Ghislain reposition himself before him with a certain pleasure that was both aesthetic and appreciative of the show the man was putting on for him.
"But you mistake me; I spoke not of particulars, but of a general philosophy. Once entered into, naturally, preferences and particulars must be taken into account for the maximum effect for all involved." Effect, not pleasure, for Valmont only cared for pleasure not his own when it suited him. Though he was practiced enough at delivering it. "But in the initial stages, the consideration of preference--mine or others'--seems unduly narrow-minded for any liberal gentleman to entertain."
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 29, 2008 8:33:40 GMT -5
Ghislain's fingers caressed his own palm unthinkingly. His hands, even moreso than any other part of his body, always needed to be moving. Perhaps some people marched to the beat of their own drum; that rhythm was ingrained in Ghislain's being, and he did everything in tempo - speeding up or slowing down as whenever it might be necessary.
I mistake you? Dear sir, you weren't clarifying. But Ghislain rarely spoke his actual thoughts out loud. He was not sure he would know how to if he tried. At the man's statement, he tilted his head and smiled, lips parted slightly, lower lip damp. "Alas, I don't believe in determinism," said Ghislain, eyes fixed on the other man's rather intensely. "I believe that whenever we gravitate at all towards anyone else, it is a matter of choice, and therefore, on some level of the conscious or unconscious as it might be, we are extremely aware of preferences, ours or others'." He pulled one hand away from the other and made a gesture with it to demonstrate the finality of his speech, fluid and swift. The other hand he momentarily pushed through his hair. "Such as your approaching me now. A determinist might say that it was bound to happen, doomed to. I don't think so at all. I think you chose to do it. Although whatever preferences led you to made such a decision are likely rather below the skin."
His eyes narrowed in thought almost as though he intended to see below the skin in looking at the man - or, at any rate, below the cloth. As the man had not been discomfited from anything Ghislain had done before now, he had dropped the subject into the man's lap by referring to him specifically and was looking him over for a brief moment with pursed lips, wondering if that might do the trick. He was a little surprised to find he was rather excitedly hoping the man would not back down.
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Post by Valmont on Oct 29, 2008 11:48:55 GMT -5
Valmont did not back down; in fact, he appeared to enjoy the scrutiny, or at least one could infer it from the absolute unconcern with which he entertained Ghislain's gaze. His own expression was reserved, but he allowed his appreciation--of the amusement Ghislain was providing, though he cared not how it was interpreted--to show in the slight dip of his eyelids, catlike. When one lived as Valmont did, the possibility of carnal knowledge of nearly anyone he spoke to was quite real, and therefore no overture overt or subtle could much surprise him.
"I am in complete agreement, sir," he said. "But then again, when one prefers everything, choice is unlimited."
It was, like a dance, a precursor to something else. But like a dance, it did not in all cases lead there. Valmont rather thought he would like to see what became of this young man; try him at a different time, a different place, and see what he did. See if there was any constancy to him at all. He thought it might be an interesting study.
"I fear, however, that at this moment my time is not my own; or rather, I have chosen to comply with a predetermined schedule, which requires that I close this pleasant conversation in the hopes that it may be resumed at a later time." His words dropped precisely into the space between them, Valmont's confidence that further acquaintance would be not only forthcoming but welcome apparently unassailable.
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Post by Ghislain on Oct 29, 2008 12:04:23 GMT -5
Everything? Now things were indeed becoming personal. Had the dear sir managed to infer something about Ghislain's own preferences, or was he attempting to push the envelope as well, to see if Ghislain backed down. The way his lips moved to smile only barely, almost as though he were smiling grudgingly and in spite of his best efforts at concealing his amusement, did not lend much to either suggestion, and after all, his body rarely did anything he did not will it to do first.
The parting was perfect. He had to admire a man so deft, so precise, someone who could clip his own encounters so easily, knowing that he would resume them when and only when he wished. Ghislain had never had the control. He hadn't bothered, being an extremely inconsistent person. He could always think of something else to say, some other gesture to employ. Ghislain lifted a hand carelessly and lazily to wave, a piano-playing movement of his fingers the most he could commit to.
"At your service," he said in parting, almost cheekily, for it struck a chord with what their conversation had been as well as seemed incongruous with his entire attitude - Ghislain, at anyone's service, indeed. He dropped his eyes and his smile vanished almost in the next moment, both deliberately and naturally. The man had passed out of his world, and Ghislain reached into his bag for Juliette again, finding his place and beginning to read once more. Although of course he intended to give a sharp impression by such behavior, it was partially out of his control what he did. When the interest was gone... That was all there was.
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