Simon Destler
- Ingenious Pilot -
A lost boy. Not a Lost Boy.
Posts: 222
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Post by Simon Destler on Oct 22, 2008 0:35:40 GMT -5
Simon was tempted to ask if Castro was some sort of caregiver, or another one of the man's patronage, but the words died on his tongue, only making him open and close his mouth awkwardly.
"All...All right then... what should I call you anyway, Monsieur?" He felt stupid for not asking when he was adamant about giving his own name.
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Post by Erik Destler on Oct 22, 2008 0:40:25 GMT -5
"You may call me Maestro, for now, Simon. Now, it's a bit late. You've a comfortable room in the dorms, then?"
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Simon Destler
- Ingenious Pilot -
A lost boy. Not a Lost Boy.
Posts: 222
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Post by Simon Destler on Oct 22, 2008 0:45:00 GMT -5
"I've got... somewhere..." he muttered - his 'somewhere' was really a blanket rolled up and stashed in the costume closet; it wasn't much, but if he needed extra cover, there were plenty of large coats and dusty old furs to make use of there.
"I'm fine." He was lying through his teeth, but just because the Maestro was doting upon him like a foundling apprentice didn't mean he desired to become a charity child. He could have been at an orphanage if that was what he wanted.
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Post by Erik Destler on Oct 22, 2008 0:48:31 GMT -5
"Good. I doubt M. Castro would appreciate a child running amok in our home...interfering."
And it saved him having to give any explanation as to why he took the child in as well--he couldn't fathom it himself.
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Simon Destler
- Ingenious Pilot -
A lost boy. Not a Lost Boy.
Posts: 222
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Post by Simon Destler on Oct 22, 2008 0:50:06 GMT -5
"So he lives with you?" blurted out Simon, wincing and bracing for impact on the back of his head again.
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Post by Erik Destler on Oct 22, 2008 1:00:11 GMT -5
"Of course he does, why else would he have been in my home, free to dispense food to little gaimins?"
He made a gesture with his gloved hand before folding it over his chest again and turning his back on the boy. He must have resembled his mother, though Destler couldn't remember her, and didn't see anything of himself in the child, though he may have once shared the blondish curls..he couldn't remmeber.
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Simon Destler
- Ingenious Pilot -
A lost boy. Not a Lost Boy.
Posts: 222
|
Post by Simon Destler on Oct 22, 2008 1:08:04 GMT -5
Simon sighed and nodded, glad to not be struck for his question.
"Ah, well... I suppose that should have been obvious..." Simon rubbed the back of his head, then hesitated on leaving. "I... will see you tomorrow, then?" he asked, rubbing his hands on the thighs of his dusty pants.
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Post by Erik Destler on Oct 22, 2008 1:11:48 GMT -5
"With a more groomed appearance, yes."
He paced back down the isle toward the stage, dissolving into the darkness.
"Good evening, young Destler."
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Simon Destler
- Ingenious Pilot -
A lost boy. Not a Lost Boy.
Posts: 222
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Post by Simon Destler on Oct 22, 2008 1:13:47 GMT -5
"Good evening... Maestro..." he murmured in reply, taking his leave once he believed he was alone, heading for his hiding spot.
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Post by Erik on Oct 22, 2008 9:22:23 GMT -5
((This... is both disturbing and moving.))
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Post by Mortimer on Mar 16, 2009 13:40:32 GMT -5
****MUCH LATER****
Mortimer had hastily dressed in his trousers and pulled on a shirt, but had been too excited to get up to the stage to properly button it or pull on footwear.
He grinned to himself, taking a moment to look over the elaborate set before climbing around on it and finding a good, high-up place to sit. The stage looked different from his new vantage point, and the auditorium. He wondered if the audiences would like his singing, if Erik would (that was more important, of course). He kicked his feet a bit where they dangled and tentativly hummed a few bars.
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Post by Carlos Castro on Mar 16, 2009 14:22:31 GMT -5
He couldn't sleep.
He didn't know why, because the day (and past days) had been eventful and frustrating. And maybe that was it. Carlos was outside his comfort zone. He hadn't been annoyed by anyone the way Maleo Addams annoyed him in quite some time. He hadn't been forced to live with a child, even one he liked. He had been dealing with the cat thing fairly well, but it was taking its toll, as was the exclusivity of his relationship with Erik. He loved him, he knew that, but knowing it, feeling it, and living it were very different things. Was he ready to be married?
Any second thoughts he had were not conscious, but they still drove him above-ground, dressed hastily in fine clothes but no tie, the top button of his shirt falling open. He could have gone out, for food or company, but he felt like solitude. And somehow, as it had before, the stage offered him some measure of comfort. He approached quietly, touching the painted flats with the unconscious caress of someone long-familiar.
Until he heard the other-worldly hum, the sound he could not place as human, animal or instrument, and gazed up.
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Post by Mortimer on Mar 16, 2009 14:33:37 GMT -5
Mortimer saw the man below him and quieted up, kicking his feet again--two pale shapes up in the dark--and leaned over where he was sitting to look down from his perch on a false window ledge.
"Hello." he said simply--he didn't think anyone wandered around the Opera at night except himself and Erik.
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Post by Carlos Castro on Mar 16, 2009 14:44:06 GMT -5
His eyes better accustomed to the dark than they had been previously, Carlos spotted the man easily. He was perched in the false window through which Faust first sees Marguerite, which stuck him as funny somehow, as did the fact that from this perspective the man seemed uncommonly short.
"Hello," he said, squinting slightly. "Are you supposed to be here?" He hadn't seen the man around, or so he assumed.
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Post by Mortimer on Mar 16, 2009 14:50:41 GMT -5
"I go anywhere I want," he said a bit indignantly and turned around where he sat, climbing down with nimble skill and proving that he was indeed uncommonly short.
"Are you supposed to be here?"
Mortimer tilted his head up at the huge man--he had never seen anyone so big, except the Fireman Bryan, but Bryan was all choppy muscles, and this man was...soft.
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