Emilie Autumn
- In the Duggins -
Beware of escaped inmates
Posts: 90
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Post by Emilie Autumn on Oct 30, 2008 17:10:05 GMT -5
((Oh yeah, how's that for a subject line?))
Emilie's tentatively warm feelings for him were pushed to the side as she followed him in after his having held the door open for her, wanting to berate him for that, groaning internally. Now it was obvious to absolutely everyone that they were together, and while she might not have really objected to that - and was generally one inclined towards conversation with fellow souls, although people she did not frighten off or feel uncomfortable around were few - she did not think it was safe to be seen with other people, or for other people to be seen with her. It was a matter of her - and his - own survival. Perhaps he really had had no run-ins with the authorities. She was convinced he would be locked up, just like her, if he met them at any point. (And if Emilie had known the likelihood of his being locked up in their own century, she might have shouted at him then for his idiocy: Emilie had greater sympathy for madmen than men in general, and tried hard to take care of them.)
But provided they did not attract too much attention, he couldn't get into too much trouble, and neither could she, and the place seemed crowded enough for a nondescript man and a woman in bundles of ragged coat to draw the eye more than anyone else did.
She nodded to him even though she had stepped a foot away from him on instinct. She hadn't realized until she'd come in from the cold and been able to smell the food how hungry she actually was, and was wondering if there was a nice quiet place to take her violin so that she could get the money out of the case. "It's good here," she said absently to him, speaking loud enough for him to hear her, but not looking at him, as though trying to keep up an act of strangerhood. Then she glanced back at him and smiled unguardedly, nodding as though to assure him, 'Yes, really, I think so,' without a thought for her previous concerns.
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Post by Fox Mulder on Oct 31, 2008 11:20:56 GMT -5
"I'm glad."
Mulder, his sense of self-preservation not as high as hers for the consequences had not been so dire for him here, had held the door on instinct. And had he known of her concerns, he might have been inclined to argue that he would have done the same had they not been together. But fortunately, she seemed to approve of his choice. He'd been here before, and noted the ebb and flow of enough Personalities that he thought even she might not arouse much suspicion. She, of course, could not be aware of the nature of the place or its proprietor, or the great many refugees from her and his centuries who had made this a home base of sorts.
He had to smile back at her, her new expression so much more open that he suddenly felt glad he had convinced her to come. She had to be hungry, and cold, and if he could maintain her comfort with him long enough to remedy those two things Mulder would could himself victorious--and move on to another such goal.
"Look, there's a table in the corner," he said. The dining room was not all that full at the moment, though dinner was still available by the looks of things. And those who were there seemed intent on minding their own business. "If I'm going to buy dinner, is it all right if we sit at the same one?"
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Emilie Autumn
- In the Duggins -
Beware of escaped inmates
Posts: 90
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Post by Emilie Autumn on Oct 31, 2008 15:53:51 GMT -5
Emilie blushed, although in the warm, red-toned light of the inn it might not have been very noticeable, particularly with charcoal all over her face. "I can pay for mine," she said in a low tone of voice, more mumbled than anything else. But she had fallen into step behind him and had resigned herself to sitting down with him, provided that, while sitting together, they were not too loud. And it was not really that Emilie did not want to be with him, simply that she didn't want to be seen together. But they were as likely to be seen apart as together here, and she had rather been shamed into it - he had made it extremely plain to her just how rude she was being, whether that had been his intention or not.
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Post by Fox Mulder on Oct 31, 2008 19:36:34 GMT -5
Mulder, who had trouble realizing (or caring) when he was being rude to others, had intended no such thing. Merely trying to ascertain from an unpredictable and obviously damaged person what she was comfortable with. Now he did what he probably should have from the beginning, which was just to sit down and let her decide what she was going to do. He pulled a chair out from the corner table--one with its back to the rest of the room, with the thought that she might wish to have her own back to the wall as many mistrustful people did.
"Smells good," he said, just to say something casual, a lopsided smile on his face his indication that he realized he was being obvious again.
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Emilie Autumn
- In the Duggins -
Beware of escaped inmates
Posts: 90
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Post by Emilie Autumn on Oct 31, 2008 22:06:14 GMT -5
Emilie sat in the corner, beginning to warm up so that beneath the heavy bundle of coat she was growing uncomfortable. Still, she would feel too chilled and exposed were she to take it off. She placed the violin case in her lap and carefully opened it, her fingers beginning to work better now that it was not so cold; they had become numb outside from disuse and the temperature. She pulled out her money - a mix of francs and other sorts of currency, mostly English and American - and began to flip through it, making a face whenever she saw something useless.
"Mm, it does," said Emilie, craning her head and peering towards the employers. "Do you think we can get some tea too? You know - I always feel like, if I'm going to be in the Victorian era all the time, I should be drinking lots of tea." Her own smile seemed equally goofy and conscious of its goofiness. She thought of a shirt that she distantly knew she'd made as the other-Emilie, the one she was in touch with but never really, truly was, that had "Tea is the Future" scrawled on it. Tea was actually the past. It seemed almost embarrassing.
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 1, 2008 0:12:16 GMT -5
Mulder smiled, surprised into the display emotion by the observation. Trite, but it was the sort of frivolous thing that amused him. He didn't drink tea. Scully did. But she wouldn't have said anything like that. She would...
No, it was a mistake to try to predict Scully, he thought. However consistent she seemed, her value to him was in her ability to surprise him. With her observations, her loyalty. And then not to surprise him by taking those things away. His smile faded a little.
"I'm sure we can," he said. "I think I should start, too." If he was going to be here anyway.
A petite young woman showed up at the table, her attire appropriate though her hair was short and choppy and there was something indefinably open and accepting about her manner that put him at ease even as he recognized it was because she somehow seemed not to belong here, and not to care. She rattled off the dishes for the evening, fairly standard though with the oddity of including vegetarian options she did not specifically call "vegetarian."
"And we can make almost anything you like, if you can name it," she added.
"I think I'd like tea," he said. "Lots of tea. And... could you come back in a minute?" She bobbed and agreed and flitted away. He'd wanted to give Emilie a chance to make her decision without scrutiny, and without him asking in front of the waitress.
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Emilie Autumn
- In the Duggins -
Beware of escaped inmates
Posts: 90
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Post by Emilie Autumn on Nov 1, 2008 15:57:39 GMT -5
Emilie smiled, genuinely, because for some reason his statement - 'I think I should start, too' - seemed almost touching. Obviously he didn't. She wasn't certain if he were saying that so as to encourage her requesting tea, or to make her feel like less of a clown for having said that, or what, but it was a nice touch. She became extremely defensive, though, when the waitress showed, hunching over and looking down at the table. Her whole posture changed; she looked almost bent over. The glances Emilie did happen to chance in her direction only worsened her reaction. Of course she knew that the Peter-Pan haircut was not uncommon even for some women in the Victorian era; but having your hair shorn had been one of the punishments for a wayward girl at the asylum, and she did not feel comfortable looking at her, as though if their eyes met one might recognize something negative in the other. When Mulder sent her off, Emilie felt as though a great weight had lifted from her chest - not in the least part because she sat up a bit straighter. "I was thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches," said Emilie. "Greasy and cheesy. And...tomato soup. Or some kind of soup." She did not even realize that it was odd to say what she wanted very promptly the moment the waitress was not there. ((Is the waitress supposed to be someone you know? ))
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 1, 2008 20:28:47 GMT -5
He felt he'd done the right thing, in sending the waitress off, but did not mention it. Instead he smiled at Emilie's order.
"My mom used to make those," he said. "With tomato soup. As if she couldn't make one without the other. I'm sure they can handle that. I think I'll go tell them, seeing as how we've decided already. Tomato on the sandwich, or just cheese?"
He put his hands flat on the table, as if in preparation for rising.
((Hee. Sue!me does live here, and is quite like me except for being a robot. So much like me, in fact, that she never has plot.))
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Emilie Autumn
- In the Duggins -
Beware of escaped inmates
Posts: 90
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Post by Emilie Autumn on Nov 2, 2008 12:53:19 GMT -5
Emilie smiled somewhat distantly, though not without warmth. She couldn't remember if she had a mother or not. For some reason, whenever she "hallucinated" being in the 21st century, it was never with family. And she knew she didn't have one in this century. Emilie had some vague idea that she had not actually been born in the 19th century, but had gotten stuck here somewhere along the way, but had no memories to substantiate this. In any case, wherever her mother was, and she had to have one, it might very well be in the same place where Mulder's was.
"Just cheese," she said, nodding her head a little vacantly but still looking him in the eye. "Thanks."
((A tragedy! My self-inserts usually don't have plot either, but that's usually because they're annoying little know-it-alls.
I drew a picture of Emilie and Mulder ghost-catching last night. XD It's pretty crappy, but I will probably still scan it. Not sure if I want to color it or not, though.))
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 2, 2008 20:22:06 GMT -5
Mulder wondered what she was thinking about. He was no Sherlock Holmes, who could divine the import of a man's thoughts along logical trails, but there were many possibilities and the suggestion that it was something about mothers did cross his mind.
"Great," he said. "I'll be right back."
He rose and found the little waitress, who cocked her head and said "No tomato, right?" and then "we have chocolate cake, for later," without any prompting though it suddenly seemed to Mulder like a good idea.
"Why don't you just bring that with the meal?" he asked. "Two. Pieces, not cakes."
He returned to the table and sat, glancing at Emilie calmly for a moment but not staring. "She's bringing cake, too. But if you don't eat it, I'm sure I can."
((Ooh, I would like to see it. That sounds cute. And feel free to address the bringing of food, if you see fit.))
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Emilie Autumn
- In the Duggins -
Beware of escaped inmates
Posts: 90
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Post by Emilie Autumn on Nov 3, 2008 16:33:24 GMT -5
Emilie found herself feeling defiant and cocky with Mulder's departure, her posture perfected and her head held at a jaunty backward tilt. Her eyes flashed out over the small crowd of customers - who largely ignored her - as though prepared to dice to pieces with her bow anyone who dared approach her. She knew herself well enough, however, to know that this was only to make up for a surprisingly large feeling of vulnerability that had swept over her when he stood and left. She wasn't sure if she felt like a child in his presence or like more of one without him, though to be frank, he was the first male from their century - or really any century at all - who had neither been excessively flamboyant - provoking an equally flamboyant response from Emilie - or made advances to her. It was a little bit of a concern to Emilie that she felt this way. On the one hand, it was a great deal of relief to not constantly be tense and self-controlled when he was around, but the part of her that was very nervous about trusting other people thought that growing comfortable with anyone was a bad idea. She managed to banish these thoughts by considering that it was simply his seating at the table that made her prefer things when he was around. He was the buffer between her and the Them, and therefore when he was around, she didn't have to keep up her masque.
When he returned, though, her shoulders visibly dropped after going from tension to the lack of it. She smiled widely at his remark for a brief moment before she masked it with seriousness. Her good humor was not entirely suffocated, however, despite no longer smiling.
"Don't talk such nonsense, Sir Mulder," she said, although she'd promised she would not call him that, casting him a very exaggerated sulky expression. "Cake will go very well with tea. It's enormously Victorian. At least I think it is." Her mock-Victorian accent dropped at the start of the last sentence as her confidence in what she'd said faltered slightly. She hid it deftly - although not very subtly - by changing the topic to an ungraceful, "Did you know...?" that began as a childish lecture whose purpose was to vindicate the rats who had long been thought to have caused the Black Death and ended as a morbid glorification of the rodent population in general. It was not necessarily good dinner conversation, although she had only just begun her spiel - having just deviated from the vindication of rats into a little sub-topic about what a great swarm of them looked like - when her voice faded off, distracted in a slightly troubled manner.
However, before Emilie could regain control of her rather unlovely conversation, the waitress returned with their food (although without the tea, which she mentioned she would be right back with the kettle and cups; she only had so many hands, after all). As she had last felt hunger very sharply many hours ago, Emilie had largely forgotten about being hungry; but she remembered very swiftly indeed at the smell of the food.
Her eyes looked a bit rat-like themselves as, large and dark, they stared at the food with obvious hunger. However, the moment it had been placed before her, she had hunched a bit, as though she were a dog with a desire to snatch up the master's dinner who knew it could not consume it without severe consequences, needing permission to begin to eat.
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 3, 2008 17:19:49 GMT -5
Mulder listened politely--and not without interest--to her nervous diatribe about rodents. After all, he was no stranger to morbid conversation, with or without food involved, and he thought it was an interesting topic to hit upon: packs of wrongly vilified and maligned creatures trying to survive in dark places. But endlessly adaptable.
The waitress brought the food, then seemed to realize she'd forgotten the tea and scurried off again with an expression of chagrin. In the meantime, Mulder noted Emilie's attitude and his heart sank; she was intelligent and rather charming, all in all, but there were constant reminders of what she'd been through. Was still going through. As Mulder lifted half of his grilled cheese, hoping she'd eat if he did, the waitress came back with the tea things and a murmured apology for the wait. He set the sandwich down and poured the tea, pushing the cup gently in Emilie's direction before taking up his sandwich again.
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Emilie Autumn
- In the Duggins -
Beware of escaped inmates
Posts: 90
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Post by Emilie Autumn on Nov 4, 2008 9:24:28 GMT -5
Once Mulder started eating, Emilie felt ridiculous for waiting, as it looked almost condescending or pathetic to not, and as though it were a race to see who would start eating first, Emilie snatched up half of her sandwich very quickly after the tea had been brought.
It was very good, and made better by hunger. Emilie did not speak another word for a while as she polished it off, ravenous, her table manners lacking slightly but not overtly rude or disgusting beyond the fact that she ate it quickly. She was half-way through the second half of the sandwich by the time she put it down to wipe her fingers on a stained, but clean, cloth napkin, and lift her teacup to take a sip. Its flavor was very slight, but it did not taste like rainwater, which was decidedly in its favor.
"Did you know," she said slightly absently, although with a tone of voice that suggested she was very interested in this sort of thing, "that the sandwich is named after an English nobleman of some kind?" She took another drink, then set it down. It occurred to her that her tomato soup would be good with what was left of her sandwich, and she pulled the bowl over carefully, so that it wouldn't spill. "He was playing cards with his friends and requested that his meat be held between two pieces of bread so that his hands wouldn't get greasy. Let it never be said that gambling hasn't done the culinary world any good."
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 4, 2008 10:12:20 GMT -5
Mulder, who generally ate his own meals over his sink to cut down on dishes, barely noticed any lapse in manners on her part, though he ate more slowly and paid attention to his soup in between bites of grilled cheese. The tea wasn't too strong, so it didn't bother him much--it was just hot, which was sufficient.
"Wasn't he an earl?" Mulder supplied, with an oddly similar tone of casual interest. "Did you know that Hawaii was originally called the Sandwich Islands?" It occurred to him, belatedly, that she might not know Hawaii--but she was so convincingly "modern" to him that he hadn't even thought about it.
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Emilie Autumn
- In the Duggins -
Beware of escaped inmates
Posts: 90
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Post by Emilie Autumn on Nov 4, 2008 11:08:02 GMT -5
Emilie had picked up her spoon by now and was eating tomato soup as well as she could - without picking up the bowl and drinking it, she couldn't seem to finish it off quickly enough. And she would have considered that option more seriously except that she was worried she might spill her soup. Emilie was extremely careful about waste; she had learned to be.
"I think he was," she said, nodding vaguely, eyebrows slightly puckered. Trying on an accent that was more ostentatious than English, she said, "The Earl of Sandwich..." and laughed afterwards. "No, I didn't," she said regarding Hawaii, looking mildly interested. "Is it named after someone or is that meant to be a description? Surely the very word "island" implied that the country is not sandwiched between anything."
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