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Jan 1, 2009 16:06:30 GMT -5
Post by Adrienne on Jan 1, 2009 16:06:30 GMT -5
*She shot him a glare.*
"Many consider Paris a den of sin." *She reminded.* "Consider neighborhoods such as Pigalle and Montmartre."
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Jan 1, 2009 16:11:49 GMT -5
Post by Chuck Bass on Jan 1, 2009 16:11:49 GMT -5
"I choose to consider those areas to be the center of art more than sin. These days, a man has to look at the bright side of things lest he become cynical. And, from what I've seen, cynicism is the end of one's livelihood."
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Jan 1, 2009 16:14:06 GMT -5
Post by Adrienne on Jan 1, 2009 16:14:06 GMT -5
*She had to keep herself from saying, "you would", and instead smiled.*
"Beneath the shining facade there's always an underbelly." *She said brightly.*
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Jan 1, 2009 16:16:18 GMT -5
Post by Chuck Bass on Jan 1, 2009 16:16:18 GMT -5
*Chuck nodded, conceding his point.*
"Touché," *he said, holding his snifter up again before taking another sip.*
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Jan 1, 2009 16:22:24 GMT -5
Post by Adrienne on Jan 1, 2009 16:22:24 GMT -5
*The clock soon chimed, signalling the hour of Chuck's departure. Goodbyes were said, and arrangements made for the ball in a week. Adrienne only had six days to plan a killer outfit. She could do it.*
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May 23, 2010 3:22:56 GMT -5
Post by Sebastian Flyte on May 23, 2010 3:22:56 GMT -5
((Micaela I totally lied, I do have people to send))
--NEW NIGHT! THERE BE PARTIES UP IN HERE--
Sebastian Flyte had technically gate-crashed, but somehow his description of "wandered" provided a prettier picture for those at the party he talked to, and truth be told, was somewhat more accurate. He had quite literally found an invitation to the party in a little box at a smart little theater and had decided to attend. He had heard of the Enjolras family and believed someone belonging to it had heard of either his mamma or his papa and that was a close enough tie to make him show up.
Besides all that, Sebastian looked as though he belonged there. He had all the build and beauty of a walking doll - skin like china, pale green eyes, dark brown hair and long lashes - but with all the animation of a man in the bloom of youth. Despite his general demeanor and excitement, though, he didn't dance. He claimed it was because he didn't want for Aloysius to be lost... referring to the teddy bear hanging from his arm, which he didn't seem to think was any big deal. It was some sort of curiously bohemian artist's quirk, except that there seemed nothing artistic about the boy but his sparkling disposition, and his dapper little suit was far removed from bohemian, although it certainly wasn't stuffy, either.
A passing caterer offered him a glass of wine. The hand not responsible for the bear welcomed it, and he smiled and downed half of it.
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May 23, 2010 12:33:19 GMT -5
Post by Andrew Blakeney on May 23, 2010 12:33:19 GMT -5
Andrew knew plenty of people here. One or two had even been at school with him, and many of the others were neighbors or children of his parents' friends. This did not change the fact that he was dreadfully uncomfortable at parties. Generally he was not very clever or charming, but everyone seemed to want to talk to him anyway, because he was a Blakeney and a de Winter. It never failed to disappoint them that he hadn't been to Manderley since he was a baby. All this was made worse by the fact that he was dreadfully tall for his age.
As Mother and Father had forbidden him from drinking wine at parties until he was eighteen, he was drinking lemonade as he tried to avoid would-be dance partners and boys who he had met at school, but who never could have been considered chums. In fact he really didn't have any chums, let alone school chums.
He was fleeing a particularly insistent young lady and not looking where he was going when he ran smack into someone. He heard his lemonade splatter onto the ground, and himself make a bit of an "mf" noise.
He stepped back as soon as he was in control of his momentum, stricken with mortification and rapidly turning red.
"Oh goodness I'm so terribly sorry, please I really didn't mean to--"
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May 23, 2010 12:38:08 GMT -5
Post by Sebastian Flyte on May 23, 2010 12:38:08 GMT -5
Sebastian lifted his arm in something like mild alarm to inspect the elbow. When he saw that it was dry, he broke into something of a beamy grin and looked back at the other person.
"Hello, it's quaint that you're English," said Sebastian. "I really didn't expect anyone to be, though of course that's ridiculous really since my father is an Englishman in exile - are you a Blakeney?"
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May 23, 2010 12:44:46 GMT -5
Post by Andrew Blakeney on May 23, 2010 12:44:46 GMT -5
Andrew blinked at him in a manner which could have been called stupid for just a moment. He was quite used to people here being English, because there was actually a curiously high number of English ex-patriots in France.
"Um. Hello. Yes." He said this almost disappointedly. "How did you know?"
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May 23, 2010 12:47:07 GMT -5
Post by Sebastian Flyte on May 23, 2010 12:47:07 GMT -5
(Sebastian, however, was used to being blinked at. Also, he was of a manner that could itself be called dim.)
"Oh, I didn't. It's just that there are only so many English people I've heard of who live in France."
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May 23, 2010 12:51:55 GMT -5
Post by Andrew Blakeney on May 23, 2010 12:51:55 GMT -5
He extended a hand, still a little bashful.
"I'm Andrew. Um, Blakeney, obviously. Well, not obviously, but you've guessed it already. Sorry I almost spilled on you; Mother says I never look where I'm going."
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May 23, 2010 12:53:59 GMT -5
Post by Sebastian Flyte on May 23, 2010 12:53:59 GMT -5
"What do you look at instead?"
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May 23, 2010 12:59:22 GMT -5
Post by Andrew Blakeney on May 23, 2010 12:59:22 GMT -5
He'd never really thought about it that way.
"Well, the ground, I suppose."
His hand sort of hung there awkwardly, waiting to be shaken.
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May 23, 2010 13:01:49 GMT -5
Post by Sebastian Flyte on May 23, 2010 13:01:49 GMT -5
"Oh. I think it would be understandable if you were looking at beautiful things instead. I was going to say, the way to fix that is to make sure you are going somewhere that looks nice."
Sebastian either did not notice his hand or had noticed it but not thought to point out that both of his were preoccupied. One was only in his pocket, but that was because his bear was hanging down from his arm at the elbow, and would fall if he took it out.
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Guests!
May 23, 2010 13:07:18 GMT -5
Post by Andrew Blakeney on May 23, 2010 13:07:18 GMT -5
It was in that moment that Andrew noticed the teddy bear at all, which he found curious, but didn't mention. He put his arm back down and tried to figure out how to ask this man's name without being rude.
"I suppose the ground really isn't very interesting, is it?" He was under the impression that he himself was dreadfully boring. This man probably wished he'd go somewhere else and leave him to talk to someone interesting.
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