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Post by Armand on Mar 26, 2009 8:13:07 GMT -5
Armand responded with a slight gesture, flippant and quick, go ahead. He was standing now himself, smoothing a hand very carefully over his shirtfront and pants to remove the hair that had fallen there while he was cutting.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Mar 26, 2009 15:07:15 GMT -5
Nicolas went into the room that had at some point or other become "his", taking the shirt off and leaving it on the floor, crumpled and inside-out, as thoughtlessly as any modern teenager. Once it was no longer on his body, it may as well have not existed. He pulled on a black turtleneck, plucking, again, uncomfortably at the collar, although not actually uncomfortable, pausing in front of the mirror. This would have looked completely different with his hair long, but now, so much of his neck was exposed even with the collar of this sort of shirt up that it almost looked... sophisticated. He left the room without turning his back to the mirror, and shut the door silently, returning to slip into a couch and fold his legs up, watching Armand silently and trying to figure out what the nature of their relationship was, and what the politics of the hair-trimming had been.
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Post by Armand on Mar 27, 2009 21:14:12 GMT -5
In the space that Nicolas had taken to change and come back, Armand had left the room and returned with a slim laptop, which he had balanced in his lap, back perfectly straight, as he sat again on the same chair in which he'd sat to cut Nicolas' hair.
"There is a carnival two nights from now in Caracas," he said, without looking up. "Celebrating the end of Lent. And tomorrow there is a moon festival in Los Angeles' Chinatown."
Nicolas looked very different with his hair short. Armand tried not to dwell on this.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Mar 28, 2009 15:39:35 GMT -5
Nicolas pulled the other chair over near him thoughtlessly, sitting in it backwards in a guileless, casual manner, leaning forward against his arms, folded and draped over the back of the chair. He seemed very childishly excited about something, and his hair had been cut short enough for him to not have to reach up to push strands of it back behind his ear whenever he tilted his head - mainly because it was so short that it would not rest behind his ear. Not that it had long.
"I've never been to any Chinatown," he confided, biting his lower lip as he smiled, not with his vampiric teeth. Where the ridge of teeth pressed into the lip, it turned slightly pink. It was an overwhelmingly mortal expression, a mortal thing to do. He'd always had the habit of doing this, except that in his earliest days it had been much more likely that he'd accidentally draw his own blood.
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Post by Armand on Mar 28, 2009 16:31:01 GMT -5
"Then we will go." And to Armand, the matter was settled. They would go in Armand's private jet tomorrow night, and they would be there in a matter of hours. He shut the laptop decisively.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Mar 28, 2009 16:41:25 GMT -5
As he watched Armand, he seemed very thoughtful, very curious, very open. Easily a student, visiting a friend's villa but not accustomed to any of the luxury, and so he merely smiled shyly at it.
Except that the luxury barely registered, and what he was truly shy about was Armand's presence itself. How he did love him.
"Have you?"
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Post by Armand on Mar 28, 2009 17:45:09 GMT -5
"Yes, twice." With Daniel. "For the Chinese New Year celebrations. They're very crowded, and the people very colorful." Armand was really enamored of them, actually; he liked the multicolored silk and the performers, the crowds, the excitement, the dancers with their lengths of swirling cloth and the dragons. He could even appreciate the smell of cooking food, for their unfamiliar spices. He'd buy Nicolas something off a vendor for good luck, he would like that, if they sold things like that at the moon festival as they did at New Year's.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Mar 28, 2009 18:38:38 GMT -5
Nicolas, still watching him, tilted his head to the side, taken completely off guard by the fact that there was no heavy hair to slide to the side with it. The thought of the festivals sounded completely enchanting, and this showed on his face, as most feelings did. Nicolas had never been good at hiding his feelings, although in life, before Armand had known him, he'd been initially rather good at repressing them.
"They sound almost Romani," he said. "Mm. Have you ever been to one of those celebrations?"
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Post by Armand on Mar 28, 2009 21:13:26 GMT -5
"Yes, a while ago. But I wasn't there for very long." Armand had taken his meal and left. It was a shame he hadn't gone back, and looking on it now he couldn't image why; Armand liked to watch mortals.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Mar 28, 2009 21:27:15 GMT -5
"They could be more superstitious than the usual townspeople," said Nicolas sort of distantly, almost wistfully, although he sounded more factual than nostalgic. "But they could also be quite a bit more welcoming. They did not need to pry into your secrets. If you were as persecuted as they were, they would permit your company on the nights in which you appeared. They did not trust us, but we did not harm them, and we allowed them. I suspect they knew we were not human..." he trailed off. Yes, the three of them had spent quite a lot of time among the gypsies. Nicolas had learned the language.
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Post by Armand on Mar 28, 2009 22:57:19 GMT -5
We. Nicolas, Eleni, and her fledgling, he meant. Yes, Armand knew the value of acceptance, especially from mortals. He watched Nicolas- head cocked slightly, arm resting lightly on the arm of the chair, the other folded over the closed computer- respectfully remaining quiet to see if he'd anything else to say.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Mar 29, 2009 13:39:57 GMT -5
After a while, Nicolas' eyes slid back into focus. He unfolded one arm seamlessly and brushed his hand against Armand's, almost in a playful way. "But I don't suppose you have spent much time in Eastern Europe, have you, Armand?"
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Post by Armand on Mar 29, 2009 14:01:21 GMT -5
"Not very much at all," Armand said, who was fully aware that Nicolas had. He didn't ask if that was because Nicolas enjoyed it there, both because it seemed during WWII he had not had much choice, and for another because it seemed fairly obvious. As much as one of the could enjoy any place, it seemed.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Mar 29, 2009 14:05:13 GMT -5
He withdrew his hand only slightly, not very bothered, just watching Armand as though seeing him in a new light. There was such a pleasant atmosphere in the room, it seemed, even if beneath that was the chill of change, which he had resisted as best as he could. "Ah, well. Perhaps someday we'll go there," he remarked off-handedly.
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Post by Armand on Mar 29, 2009 17:26:14 GMT -5
Very matter-of-factly- "Certainly. But what would you like to do tonight?"
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