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Post by Marquis de Carabas on Dec 12, 2008 20:17:39 GMT -5
*The Marquis grinned, as if he had come out with the much better part of the deal.*
"Right. Follow me, then," He said, knocking on a door in the wall. He frowned, then knocked on it in a place an inch to the left. The door opened seemingly of its own accord.*
"After you, princess."
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Cendrillon
- Ingenious Pilot -
I am a pretty piece of flesh
Posts: 109
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Post by Cendrillon on Dec 12, 2008 20:32:24 GMT -5
Cendrillon scowled - a sour pout on his face - and hit him bad-temperedly in the side as he passed into the door. Normally, perhaps, he might have been extremely impressed by the door opening or extremely curious as to how it worked, but he was both distracted by the supreme disrespect he'd just been shown and quite used to bizarre occurrences by now.
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Post by Marquis de Carabas on Dec 16, 2008 13:57:00 GMT -5
*The Marquis chuckled a little as he closed the door behind him. The boy's show of irritation hadn't hurt him at all, and it amused him how easily riled up the little thing was.
The room they'd entered was pitch black, and the Marquis could be heard rummaging around in the many pockets of his coat. There was something that sounded like a muffled meow, and he cursed under his breath. A few moments later, he found what he was looking for and a match flared in the darkness. He lit an old fashioned lantern, and shook out the match, replacing it in his pocket.
The light revealed a long steep spiral staircase, extending impossibly in either direction. The middle of the stone steps were worn, as if hundreds, maybe thousands of years worth of travelers had worn them down. The Marquis started downwards without hesitation, as if he did this all the time.*
"Come along then."
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Cendrillon
- Ingenious Pilot -
I am a pretty piece of flesh
Posts: 109
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Post by Cendrillon on Dec 18, 2008 12:38:56 GMT -5
Cendrillon was not afraid. He had gone into the very hill of a graveyard in a dead woman's clothing and danced among corpses in the arms of a man for whom to love was to murder, and who had indeed murdered him. He kept his chin defiantly up. No, he was not afraid. He was not.
And he could repeat that to himself all the way down the stairs if necessary...
He walked down after the Marquis, completely careful not to lose his footing and yet to look as imperial as he felt. He felt slightly light-headed, but he put that off and focused instead on how impossible this staircase was, as, he noticed, it lead up where he knew, previously, there had been only a shabby building, one that certainly didn't hide behind it a staircase. That he had stepped into one world from another was obvious, and he was momentarily disconcerted, not because of this, but because he wondered if this was the same world his prince was from or if it was an entirely new one, and if so, how could he be certain of getting back to Mourant?
Was seeking out Paris herself really all that important? He only meant to find someone to speak to outside of Mourant, for when Mourant wasn't there. But it was because he wanted to spend more time with his beloved, not because he wanted to get away from him. If this interfered in any way with his relations with the prince...
The thought was actually more frightening than the staircase.
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Post by Marquis de Carabas on Dec 26, 2008 23:02:21 GMT -5
They walked for some time, the Marquis uninterested in breaking the silence if his client did not want conversation. The only sound in the staircase was that of their footsteps on the worn stone, and unidentifiable scrabblings and scratchings just out of sight. Rats would be the most likely theory. Occasionally, there would be a landing, with a hallway branching off into darkness, or a door in the curving wall, and they passed another traveler or two, curious, twitchy figures that shied away from the lantern's light.
Finally, de Carabas came to a sudden stop on a narrow landing in front of a plain wooden door, and pushed it open, revealing another hallway.
"It's not far now."
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Cendrillon
- Ingenious Pilot -
I am a pretty piece of flesh
Posts: 109
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Post by Cendrillon on Dec 27, 2008 18:24:15 GMT -5
"Better not be," but these words fell into the darkness too loudly in the small private space between himself and the Marquis, and too quietly in the rest of the space, not penetrating very well in, as though the rest of the darkness was a living being, far too solid. They did not have the desired effect of unaffected impatience. Cendrillon had taken steps enough towards Carabas when the man had stopped to be nearly huddled to him; when they continued on down this new hallway, Cendrillon took advantage of this and stayed very close, almost close enough to impede the Marquis' movements, which he certainly did at times.
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kitteh
- In the Duggins -
Posts: 55
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Post by kitteh on Dec 27, 2008 21:30:19 GMT -5
There was the occasional squeak or sneeze from the Marquis's pocket, but on the whole the kitteh was being very good. If she happened to poke her head out from time to time to inspect the boy crowding her human, well, it was nearly too dark to see, and only her curious eyes would glint in the light of the Marquis's lantern.
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Post by Marquis de Carabas on Dec 29, 2008 12:32:28 GMT -5
"If I'm going to be nearly avoiding tripping over you every few seconds," the Marquis said in a bored, impatient tone, "then perhaps this little venture is not worth the trouble after all." He stopped suddenly, so as to make the boy run into him.
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Cendrillon
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I am a pretty piece of flesh
Posts: 109
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Post by Cendrillon on Dec 30, 2008 17:36:02 GMT -5
This backfired for Carabas when, the sudden imbalance of the running into him momentarily speeding up Cendrillon's little recently-mortal heartbeat, Cendrillon clung to him as though terrified of falling over. A few seconds later he was scowling bad-temperedly again, biting his lower lip and a certain flush to his cheeks - invisible in the dark - showing his slight humiliation, but he did not release him just then.
"Monsieur le Marquis de Carabas," he said in his crossest, "Prince Mourant of Death's Court Under-the-Hill has never gone through so much trouble to claim a bride as he has with me and he is not regretting it, and so I advise you to take note of that and realize that I can absolutely make anything worth the trouble, only I'd do it with more pleasure if you weren't like somebody's least favorite uncle on some crazy saint's feast. And besides that you can't very well trip on me when I'm behind you, but I very nearly tripped over you just now. Oughtn't a marquis have a bit more grace?"
This spirited - if spoken under, and in, the sweet breath of a child - little lecture had not filled the entire void with its syllables, but it had filled that small part of it he was a part of, and it had given him great confidence; the flush vanished as he reassured himself and his pride, but his complexion had gone back to its normal peach-rosiness, rather than being quite blanched from the anxiety of it all. He was able to release Carabas without feeling overwhelmingly terrified, but he didn't make any apologies as he did so.
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Post by Marquis de Carabas on Jan 1, 2009 11:21:44 GMT -5
"While I'm sure your Prince Mourant enjoys you clinging to him like a frightened child, you would do well not to expect anything similar from me," he said, the ever present smirk again on his face, revealing nothing. The boy's indignation amused him, but his promise of his influence and power in the court were reassuring and tempting.
As he started his brisk walk once again, he placed a hand in a certain pocket to make sure a certain small cat hadn't been harmed by Cendrillon's carelessness.
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Cendrillon
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I am a pretty piece of flesh
Posts: 109
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Post by Cendrillon on Jan 1, 2009 22:41:29 GMT -5
Cendrillon's small temper flared, but he was not easily roused to anger when there was already much to be awed by and scared of, and shushed himself. He was privately hoarded his displeasure, though, to later fume at the Marquis about whenever it came about as a good time to do so. Had he known that the man was at least well-liked by a certain small kitty he might have forgiven him, but he did not seem likable by anything at the time.
"Of course he does," Cendrillon muttered sulkily under his breath as he followed, "of course he does when he very well frightens me half to death as it is and on purpose..."
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Post by Marquis de Carabas on Jan 5, 2009 23:46:29 GMT -5
Satisfied that the cat was fine, he continued on, grinning at Cendrillon. The little thing had quite a temper on him, and it was quite amusing when it flared. Very soon, the hall branched off into two opposite but identical tunnels, going in opposite directions.
"Oh dear," he said, sounding very concerned indeed.
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Cendrillon
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I am a pretty piece of flesh
Posts: 109
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Post by Cendrillon on Jan 6, 2009 9:36:42 GMT -5
Cendrillon peered over Carabas' shoulder in alarm. He was starting to panic, but tried to tell himself that this man wasn't the sort of person who said "oh, dear" unless he was being mocking about something.
"What?" he said, sounding suspicious and annoyed first and foremost, with an undercurrent of fear. He knew full well that these sorts of things could happen - that something wouldn't work as usual or you'd get lost or something. He had spent enough time in Faery to learn that, but not enough to figure out how to get out of a bad situation. Anxiety getting the best of him, he creeped forward - almost touching - and said, "You know I trust you."
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Post by Marquis de Carabas on Jan 6, 2009 15:48:58 GMT -5
He was telling the truth, which would have been endearing if it wasn't so stupid.
"You shouldn't- you've barely met me. And even if we'd been friends since childhood, you still shouldn't."
Which was of course completely true. He knew the way to go, but this would be a wonderful way to extort the boy for more.
"I seem to have forgotten the way. My, how unreliable the memory is. Perhaps a token of your trust would jog it-"
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Cendrillon
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I am a pretty piece of flesh
Posts: 109
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Post by Cendrillon on Jan 6, 2009 15:54:52 GMT -5
"Um. A token?"
Cendrillon plucked one of the flowers from his flower-crown, for even if he had brought something of greater worth than that, he naturally thought of a token as being something pretty and holding nothing but sentimental value. Reaching around Carabas almost timidly, he pushed it very delicately into his hand, feeling nervous and unsure of why. Although it was about as mediaeval as it got in terms of sensuality, it still seemed like something of an offence to even consider giving someone who was not Mourant a token of any kind.
"I haven't got a lot of options," said Cendrillon, eye big in the dark. "In the street I could distrust you as I pleased - and it would please me - but down here, I'm rather stuck."
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