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Post by Tybalt on Apr 2, 2012 22:48:07 GMT -5
Tybalt had been given vacation time by Doom, and though this seemed to be because Doom had felt he hadn't relaxed with the women and perhaps would relax if given time off, it only made Tybalt more withdrawn and morose, for he had nothing to do, and had taken to practicing the use of his magic whip in courtyards, avoiding the American guests (especially the woman) and going on very long rides and then spending another hour with the stablehands helping to see to the care of the horse he'd just ridden, leaving reluctantly only when the stablehands told him emphatically in a language he didn't understand to go away. When he finally understood the message he would just stare, and then shuffle away, looking like a lonely old man in spite of his hardened young body and almost feminine good looks. And then the stablehands, who would have found him infuriating and intimidating and downright terrifying up until then, would pity him a little and think he seemed actually rather pathetic.
And then he would lie on his back with his arms spread out like the Christ figure and stare at the ceiling, sometimes with one arm bent so that his hand gripped the locket holding a picture of his young cousin.
That was how he was at present.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Apr 2, 2012 23:00:46 GMT -5
At some point Doom would have to stop materializing abruptly in dark doorways and making people uncomfortable, but this castle and its grounds were his personal domain, it seemed senseless to begin now. The alternative was summoning guests before him in the reception hall or some other formal capacity, and while that imparted the requisite air of authority, forcing others to bow and scrape before him had failed him thus far. As dear as it was to him, it didn't seem to be applicable here, and that was a dreadful realization to make.
Among others. The tyrant of Latveria never looked exactly mirthful, but at present he looked grim, leaning on the external doorframe very slightly.
"Doom would request entrance."
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Post by Tybalt on Apr 2, 2012 23:01:45 GMT -5
"You're the lord here, not I," said Tybalt mechanically.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Apr 2, 2012 23:10:22 GMT -5
"Doom has no desire to overstep," he said, fully reproached.
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Post by Tybalt on Apr 2, 2012 23:12:07 GMT -5
"He's not," said Tybalt, almost curtly; he hated the formal pretense when he believed Doom could do whatever he wished.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Apr 2, 2012 23:34:53 GMT -5
"I have grave matters to discuss, if you are not otherwise occupied--"
He cleared his throat, stiffly.
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Post by Tybalt on Apr 2, 2012 23:35:54 GMT -5
"I'm not."
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Post by Victor von Doom on Apr 2, 2012 23:48:41 GMT -5
Doom had to stoop somewhat to enter, looking chagrined.
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Post by Tybalt on Apr 2, 2012 23:49:35 GMT -5
Not that you could tell behind the mask. Or when you were Tybalt lying flopped stiffly on your bed.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Apr 3, 2012 0:03:32 GMT -5
"I hope that you will forgive my prior conduct long enough to permit conversation."
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Post by Tybalt on Apr 3, 2012 0:04:34 GMT -5
Tybalt pushed himself up and rested on his elbows.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Apr 3, 2012 0:34:01 GMT -5
"Hello, Tybalt."
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Post by Tybalt on Apr 3, 2012 0:37:22 GMT -5
"My lord."
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Post by Victor von Doom on Apr 3, 2012 10:49:15 GMT -5
"I come bearing news regarding your... confinement here."
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Post by Tybalt on Apr 3, 2012 16:27:54 GMT -5
"Yes?" he asked tensely.
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