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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 20, 2011 3:33:21 GMT -5
"Hmm." Privately, he was smiling.
"I have been a stranger in a strange land myself... many times. It wouldn't be fitting to turn you away."
Finally they reached their destination, a sort of impromptu fitting room for henchmen. (Not that what Tybalt was currently wearing clashed with the overall color scheme or anything.)
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 20, 2011 3:36:07 GMT -5
Tybalt had very quickly fallen into martial patterns of behavior - straight back, hands behind it, waiting for Doom's command. He didn't question where he was or even think about it; he knew that Doom would give him instructions and he'd think when told to do so. This was easier than trying to reason his own way through anything, he knew from experience. It was miserable.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 20, 2011 3:46:38 GMT -5
The average Latverian male was not quite so tall as Tybalt, but Doom's long-suffering tailor had tried his best to make staff uniforms generally flattering regardless of who wore them. But that wasn't the point, really. Something would have to do.
"You are to be issued something more -- suitable to wear."
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 20, 2011 3:51:30 GMT -5
"Yes, my lord," he said, then hesitated. He wondered if he'd ever be getting his belongings back, and he was beginning to become once more anxious about how far from Verona he was, and if he'd ever get home again.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 20, 2011 14:27:12 GMT -5
"You may dress yourself."
He indicated the folded heaps of tunics by sheer stony silence.
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 20, 2011 14:33:43 GMT -5
"...in which, my lord?"
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 20, 2011 16:32:35 GMT -5
"Undress and find one that fits."
Creepy Doom is inadvertently creepy.
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 20, 2011 16:43:02 GMT -5
Tybalt's mouth opened.
Then he closed it and swallowed. "Yes, my lord."
He tried to think of something to distract himself, something very unpleasant, as he slowly, steadily undressed; his eyes were still fixed on Doom's, but glazed over a little. The first thought he had was of the last time he'd been horsewhipped by his uncle, years ago now, but it did not have the desired effect, and he quickly ejected the memory. A new one was needed. He thought of Júlia. Then of men speaking to her.
This sufficed.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 20, 2011 17:09:48 GMT -5
Doom was completely nonchalant about the whole endeavor, which didn't make things any better on Tybalt's end but at least expressed goodwill.
Thinking of his guest as an individual (albeit one more or less a soldier) with a personal history, rather than a hostile combatant, made the sight of his scars difficult to let lie unremarked-upon. Verona seemed an entirely barbaric place. Scars were obviously a point of personal sensitivity, but Tybalt's were unpleasant to look upon, old and new.
"Your right side. What happened to you there?"
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 20, 2011 17:12:21 GMT -5
"My lord-?"
He had just undone his pants, and holding them closed with one hand, lifted the other to stroke the tender scar.
"Knife-fight. I was eighteen. I do not believe my opponent intended to do more than ward me off, but I did not back away. It was not on purpose."
That was Romeo Montague for you, the coward.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 20, 2011 17:20:03 GMT -5
"And on your right shoulder?"
He did not want to inquire about the more intimate-looking bruises; scars told the history of a man, but he'd already glimpsed that scuffle, and had no need to humiliate Tybalt by prying.
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 20, 2011 17:31:55 GMT -5
"...somebody... threw a candle."
He winced. Mercutio's notions of teasing were vicious more often than not, and the wax had been very hot. In the reduced lighting they'd struggled for dominance, exhausting Tybalt, who already knew he preferred it when he lost.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 20, 2011 18:18:44 GMT -5
"Ah."
That had touched a nerve, clearly. Victor carried on.
"Were you mistreated often, in your uncle's house?"
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 20, 2011 18:19:40 GMT -5
"Mistreated...?"
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 20, 2011 18:23:41 GMT -5
"Your scars look as if they haven't been tended to. Unless that was a personal choice," he said, mild scorn entering his voice without any sense of irony.
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