Emilie Autumn
- In the Duggins -
Beware of escaped inmates
Posts: 90
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Post by Emilie Autumn on Nov 7, 2008 15:55:13 GMT -5
"Not excited by housework?" admonished Emilie, shaking a teaspoon at him as though wagging her index finger. It was, although she was not nearly conscious of it, simply another version of using the bow as an extension of herself, rather than using her actual physical body to interact with the world. "This is very disappointing. After the events of forty minutes ago, I had made it my life's goal to see you in an apron." She did not look for a moment as though she were joking, although she was so serious-seeming that she could not be taken seriously - beneficial in this case. It had not crossed Emilie's mind once until now to think of Mulder in an apron. "Now that you have dashed it, I will have to find a new one, and I am not very good at that."
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 8, 2008 0:30:00 GMT -5
Mulder laughed, much less threatened by the spoon than the bow, though he recognized the connection. In the same way that she had smiled behind the teacup.
"I find that hard to believe," he said. "I think you have a million of them. As well you should."
With someone else he might have said something lewd about aprons and things, but not with her.
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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 8, 2008 21:24:42 GMT -5
Emilie shook her head, smile grown almost wistful. On someone else it might have seemed too young for the face, but not her. She was apparently dwelling on life goals, and for a moment it looked as though she might speak of them. Then she shook her head again and spoke.
"Right now, my only goal is to stay sane," she said with a small, ironic smile. "And..." She hesitated. Her intention had been to ask him what he wanted to do, but it had occurred to her that his only goal right now would be to get back to the late 20th century. She looked as though she were still wanting to say something to him, but instead she shut her mouth and drummed her fingers on the table. Then she spoke, saying something other than what she had intended to, but in a similar vein. "What did you do in the 20th century?"
A bizarre question to ask a century before it had taken place. Hopefully no one had overheard them.
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 9, 2008 11:04:39 GMT -5
Mulder felt it safer not to comment on her answer--there was nothing really he could say, because she seemed quite sane to him but telling her so probably wouldn't help at this juncture. So he welcomed the question, more or less.
"I was--am--an FBI agent," he said. "Sort of a detective." He smiled a little slyly. "Of the paranormal."
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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 9, 2008 15:22:57 GMT -5
Emilie smiled, at first because it did not occur to her that that was the truth. A second later she was smiling because it sounded so enjoyable, and the concept of speaking with him seemed very natural to her. The initial response, to think he was mad, never lasted for long for Emilie. And upon reflection, it made a good deal of sense that of all people to end up back here, someone who studied the paranormal for the government would end up in this strange place. Emilie would not consider herself a conspiracy theorist, but she did not doubt for a moment that there were departments devoted to paranormal research in the FBI. The Soviet Union had had an interest in it, so why not the U.S.?
"Don't advertise the fact," she warned. "Certainly they all [i[say[/i] that they like Spiritualism and mediums and the like, but there's a fine line and if you cross it..."
Emilie sipped her tea, wordlessly excusing herself from finishing the sentence. Even though it was touchy material - and Emilie had certainly seen ghosts herself before - she still felt more at ease speaking with him about it than she had in a long time. It was partially the atmosphere of the inn, to be sure, which was very comfortable and warm, and partially just speaking with him. "Have you seen things before, then?"
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 9, 2008 17:36:40 GMT -5
He couldn't tell, at first, whether she was humoring him or really accepted his words at face value.
"It's the same where I'm from," he said. "Astrology's all very well, but once you tell someone there actually are alligators in the sewers... well, I've seen that look plenty. And I've seen enough not to care, because those things are out there. They're just extremely hard to prove for people who require a certain kind of proof."
He'd stopped believing in some of them, once. But Poe had set him back on track.
"But I don't go around blabbing it everywhere. Not here. Even so... I've seen and heard things, here, that put most of the cases I've investigated to shame."
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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 9, 2008 17:42:15 GMT -5
Emilie cocked her head, wondering at what he'd seen here and what he had investigated. And she also wondered if, were she to press him, he would tell her any of the details. But she did not think prying into his privacy would do her much good, particularly not at this time.
"If I've learned anything from this, it's been the exact opposite of what they teach in history classes," said Emilie, shaking her head. "There is no such thing as human progress. We don't change. We just deceive ourselves into thinking we do. No matter how many laws we pass or how many improvements we make, we don't change down at the core." She slapped her open hand over her heart as she did this, unthinkingly.
Then she looked up at the ceiling, still thoughtfully, her thoughts apparently turning onto something else. "Have you investigated many ghost sightings?"
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 10, 2008 12:58:34 GMT -5
Mulder was slightly more hopeful, at least intellectually. Paranoid as he could be, he knew things were better, for many people, than they had been. Emilie, certainly, should be in the 21st century. She belonged there, that was clear, and here she was only mad.
But he agreed... at the core.
"Of course," he said. "Many different kinds. And aliens, mutants, psychics... you name 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 10, 2008 15:57:21 GMT -5
Emilie thought about this a while longer, continuing to gaze, glazed-eyes, at the ceiling, lifting her teacup to her mouth to sip at her tea without pause. The chill had gone from her by now, and she felt comfortably warm, and to her surprise, was beginning to feel a little tired. Not in the sense of fatigue, but in the sense of being very relaxed, in the mood for more tea and interesting conversations. If Mulder had been an animal - heaven forbid - she might have cuddled. All these were very alien to Emilie, who had not been able to do any of them in a very long time.
The only thing that was missing was a clean face. She would have to wash hers soon, something she wouldn't have considered doing a short time ago. She looked back at Mulder and smiled, teeth showing in a childish way, a smile that was without pretension. "That sounds...like the best kind of work. It's like graduating from high school and realizing that you can get work in the field of geekdom. I once saw a ghost..." And then the memory faded and vanished and suddenly Emilie was no longer reminiscing about something that had happened in her California childhood, but a different Emilie with no ties to the 21st century, an Emilie who saw ghosts regularly and often was plagued by nightmares about them. She shivered, briefly feeling cold again. She shut her eyes and cradled the warm teacup. "I've seen a lot of them."
She went to sip more tea, only to find she had only a swallow left. Her eyes opened as she pouted slightly and put it down. A feeling of inarticulate depression came over her; she had run out of reasons to put off leaving, but she still didn't want to go. But the fact remained that, first real conversation she'd had in years or not, they had just been making small-talk. What was going to happen, had she thought? she thought, feeling rather bitter towards herself. Even if he had asked her up to his room, what would she have done? Emilie shrank from those sorts of activities even when engaging in them; she would have felt like it was a slap in the face, to cheapen this moment of communication with that sort of thing.
Emilie sighed and leaned forward, folding her arms across the tabletop and resting her head against it, looking up at him almost curiously. "Is it a fulfilling job? I imagine it's hard to find hot girls at the Geek conventions, but you probably never run out of gay boys, huh?" She smiled again, a bit sillier, this time. She was aware that she was trying to push the conversation into substantial issues, rather than nice-weather-we're-having sort of chitchat, but she hungered for that more than she had for the food and behaved recklessly, hoping, on impulse, that he would reciprocate.
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 10, 2008 17:03:05 GMT -5
He didn't press about the ghost--he saw her pause, saw her getting tired and most of all noted the change of subject. It wouldn't do her any good now to assure her what she saw was real; she lived now, now, and what she needed was to go on surviving in this world. Until he could think of something better.
So he let her change the subject, let her stay and get tired so she couldn't have much objection when he suggested she get a room here, and he get a room here, or... or whatever she wanted. While subconsciously he recognized her attractiveness, it didn't register as anything sexual in his conscious mind. But then, he'd had a lot of practice with that.
He smiled rather sheepishly at her question, a little surprised by the sudden turn to the personal but not about to put up any walls between them. "I'm not much for conventions," he said. "The work... well, the cliche is 'married to it,' isn't it? But you'd be surprised; some of those geek girls are pretty cute." He frowned in mock consternation, but obvious enough (he hoped) that she would see he was teasing. "Do I look gay to you?"
He'd actually been told, by several of that persuasion, that he did. So it wouldn't bother him, if she thought so.
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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 10, 2008 17:13:40 GMT -5
Looking kind of like a very exhausted doll with black chalk all over its face, Emilie smiled at his words and upturned her wrists so that her fingers were in the air, and pointed with both of them at herself, as though to say, 'That is me, yes, I admit it' - as Emilie very much considered herself a terribly pretty geek. Emilie's awkward feelings about her own body had nothing to do with worries that she was unattractive - it might not have been far off to say that she was self-conscious about just the opposite. And geek she certainly was, and it was pleasant to use such a normal term to describe herself and another person in this tiresome century.
His mock-heterosexist expression seemed so absurd and amusing that she laughed again, a very strong burst of laughter that hurt her ribs again. When she was nearing the ability to speak again, she waggled her eyebrows and said, "You look like I wouldn't mind watching you be gay." The words had hardly escaped her mouth when she began to laugh again - it was almost more of a snigger - and, folding her arms over the back of her head again, hit her forehead against the table twice, leaving the teacup rattling.
And she was still laughing for a moment after that.
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 10, 2008 17:39:39 GMT -5
His eyes bugged a little at her statement, and probably would have caused another round of laughter had she seen him. That was... not a proposition he'd actually been made before, though he was dimly aware of having suggested something similar to women of his acquaintance.
Mulder decided that Emilie must be very tired. Or very comfortable. Probably both. Either way, she seemed much improved from the desperate, bow-gesturing creature he'd met on the street. He rather liked her, full and warm and happy enough to call him gay.
And cute, in a roundabout fashion. Mustn't forget that. No, must. It was hard to remember, when she came over all inappropriate and adorable.
"No promises on that score," he said, "at least, not anytime soon. But you'd have a better chance if you let me get us rooms here. Separate. With your own key. Under whatever name you want."
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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 11, 2008 9:41:14 GMT -5
Emilie's shoulders tensed at the suggestion, though it was not of such a high degree of tension that her good humor and comfort had evaporated. It was an impulsive, irrational reaction to any suggestion of that kind, a sudden sense of suspicion in her stomach. It was the sudden stillness of her body that let her mind race on ahead, ticking like clockwork, to make sure she figured out what she actually felt about it.
When her eyes lifted to Mulder's, she looked conflicted and reserved, but her shoulders were still slightly hunched. "I don't think I can afford a room," she said, shooting him a look that said quite clearly, no charity. It wasn't a refusal, though; she was still considering it. It would be so easy. She leaned back with a noise in the back of her throat that might have been a stunted sigh, and reached into her pocket to pull out the assorted money, separated the francs from the other forms of currency, trying to count it.
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 12, 2008 0:43:45 GMT -5
Mulder's bland face remained casually disinterested, though in truth he was watching her carefully. She was suspicious, as she should be, and she was proud, which he also didn't find unsuitable. But he couldn't let her stay outside. And he couldn't let her go her own way, not yet. Not when she needed him.
Not when he couldn't admit he needed someone.
He swallowed. "A loan, then," he said. "I've heard you play. I'm willing to bet on your ability."
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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 12, 2008 16:42:10 GMT -5
Emilie knew she was a musician in the 21st century, as well as a few other things; it was almost heart-breaking to her at times, because she knew from brief flashes that somewhere else she was sitting with those achingly beautiful women who played other instruments and that they all loved her and that they had some kind of community there, a community that Emilie had not found here, not in the asylum, certainly, and not in the streets. So to be complimented on her music was one of the few things that, suspect or not, she could not really resist. Her heart flared a little.
Her voice broke when she spoke, licking her lips as they were dry, the eyes looking up at Mulder seeming larger and brighter beneath the chimneysweep-black charcoal covering her face. "Do you think so?"
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