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Post by Basini on Apr 15, 2010 22:11:28 GMT -5
The song-- the same, or another?-- was completely unfamiliar, but at least it sounded of this earth. Just as foreign, but at least it sounded halfway like words. It was easy to pretend that they had no source, to rest his back against where a corner turned and to listen. And to feel his way along the wall, and around the corner...
To immediately blush beetroot when he raised his eyes from the floor to notice another human being.
"Excuse me!" It was his first impulse to practically bow, to immediately lower his head and hope the color currently blazing in his cheeks went unnoticed. And his clumsiness with the language.
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Post by László on Apr 15, 2010 22:43:11 GMT -5
László stopped mid-sentence, startled enough that when he first answered, it was still in his native tongue. Realizing his mistake, he quickly switched over to his rather broken French.
"Oh, no, it's all right!"
He hadn't seen the other man walk in at all, and he was a bit upset with himself that he'd been that oblivious of the world around him.
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Post by Basini on Apr 16, 2010 0:12:12 GMT -5
Basini startled, catching himself starting to shape the much more familiar German. He wasn't frightened, but it took a long moment to fully connect face and voice.
He blinked, shedding utter embarrassment in favor of cautiousness. This was a stranger, after all, and a rather exotic looking one, but they'd seen worse in Paris thus far. The trouble would be explaining why he was here at all. It seemed clear enough that this man belonged here. (And yes, he was an adult by comparison. And therefore fair game to lie to.)
"Pardon me, I hadn't meant to interrupt--""
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Post by László on Apr 16, 2010 1:03:31 GMT -5
"That's okay. I, uh, wasn't really up to much."
László knew full well that he could get in trouble if someone that worked here found him in this area of the opera, and he was really hoping that this kid wasn't anybody that was part of this place. All it would take was the right words to the right person, and out he went, probably permanently.
"No harm done."
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Post by Basini on Apr 16, 2010 7:13:01 GMT -5
Who was this? (Basini's cheeks still burned, but at least he could will some of the color away.) He assumed a slightly defensive position, but without thinking about it, he snuck another look. This led to rather shameless staring.
"I heard you singing, I-- that's all."
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Post by László on Apr 16, 2010 16:50:52 GMT -5
He was quickly revising his opinion about this guy--whoever he was, his manner, to László, didn't speak of someone who worked here.
"Ah...and here I thought I'd found a room out-of-the-way enough that nobody'd find me." He said pleasantly.
He wasn't upset with this person--the shy manner put him in mind of Nicolae.
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Post by Basini on Apr 16, 2010 20:05:36 GMT -5
With that voice and his wild sort of looks, perhaps he was an actor there, a performer. Stefan smiled rather bashfully.
"It was nice to listen to while it lasted. I'm... visiting, and I lost my way."
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Post by László on Apr 16, 2010 21:02:48 GMT -5
"Oh...well, ah, thanks." He was still a bit self-conscious when it came to the singing, though the feedback he kept getting was wearing that down.
"I can understand the getting lost part. This place is like a maze."
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Post by Basini on Apr 16, 2010 21:54:44 GMT -5
"Do you live here, sir?"
He extended a hand for the shaking, idly conscious of the scars that crossed the backs of his fingers. The cuffs of his shirt didn't extend quite as far as those of his school uniform, so a fraction more of skinny wrist projected than the usual... making him absurdly conscious of his height in the presence of an adult who positively loomed.
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Post by László on Apr 16, 2010 22:22:57 GMT -5
"I wish." He said a bit wistfully, shaking the offered hand.
"I'm László."
He noticed the scars, but it was a fleeting thing, and not something he really focused on--having scars of his own, he knew that such things could be a sensitive subject, though his were easier to conceal.
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Post by Basini on Apr 17, 2010 9:44:23 GMT -5
"Basini," he said, the odd skew of his smile digging deeper into his cheek. Schoolboy titles for now, eschew first names -- that wasn't a French name, clearly. And first names were for his mother only. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
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Post by László on Apr 17, 2010 14:45:41 GMT -5
"Nice to meet you, too."
From the sound of his name, Basini was someone else who wasn't from here, but then László was of the opinion that Paris was actually made up of nothing but foreigners and maybe only a few actual French people.
"So, you come to the opera often?"
Small talk, but he was starting to get the hang of it and wasn't as awkward as he once was with it.
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Post by Basini on Apr 18, 2010 21:19:43 GMT -5
Putting face and name together and drawing the reasonable conclusions would be much easier if Stefan hadn't always been the last on these things. And if he hadn't felt loomed over, even at a safe distance.
Now, a proper explanation would strain at the limits of his schoolboy French -- not even that, since he'd always been a miserable student, and he couldn't afford to be as artful in the language as he'd have wanted.
"No-- I mean to say, I'm visiting. We are... Austrian."
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Post by László on Apr 18, 2010 23:03:50 GMT -5
He felt a great amount of relief upon hearing the Austrian part--it meant he could switch over to a language that they were both fluent in.
"Oh, well, I hope you like it here. Paris...takes some getting used to." László responded in perfect German.
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Post by Basini on Apr 22, 2010 19:09:31 GMT -5
"Oh, thank God!" To hell with propriety, the load this took off was an unspeakable relief. All his words came out at once, and he was tripping worse than he had before... "Forgive me, I'm-- I'm not used to it yet. I'm supposed to be my sister's chaperon."
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