Location: In the Bar/Cafe talking with Marcus.
She blinked at the implication of being insane, and blinked again as Marcus quickly stated at how he wasn’t saying that she was insane. All in all…Cery wasn’t entirely sure if she should take offense by his remarks or not. She ate some more salad while she mulled it over in her head, before giving him a shrug. “I’m certain under various circumstances any person would call me insane…but I just always thought that I was simply imaginative.” She murmured quietly, her ears slowly lowering as she dwelled upon it. Was that why once people left they never came back…? Because she was insane…? She always thought it was because of the time changes. After all…Rowen came back once the estate returned to his time…
The chef servant bowed when Marcus gave his order, and after a fair amount of time returned with steak grilled to perfection, with a side of salt potatoes and steamed green beans. Of course, a steak knife and fork were placed at either side of the plate, as well as a napkin for the gentleman. “Bon Appetite!” Cery chimed before washing down her meal with the remainder of her hot cocoa.
She then gave a bit of a shrug and a vigorous nod towards Marcus’ comment about it being a party. “It has its lively moments.” The little woman chimed. “But it’s really all based on what the world outside decides to throw at us when the fog clears up. I was really unprepared for the refugees, and I just felt horrible when I didn’t have enough private rooms for all of them. But we’re in the process of fixing that, and we were pretty lucky that the whole lot of them didn’t get displaced in an era they wouldn’t be able to cope with once they left the estate! It’s bad enough explaining to people about the horns and ears and stuff when they come in from the medieval ages, but trying to explain to them why there’s hover cars whizzing through the sky the next morning…OY! I mean, the kids loved it, but the elder-folk nearly burned the house down!” She lower lip wiggled into a pout, until her face scrunched up. Suddenly, she sneezed into her open palms, and one of the servants passed a tissue to her so she could wipe her nose. “Excuse me…” She said as politely as she could manage, blowing her nose once before tossing the tissue in a wastebasket. "Would you like to take a tour of the place...? Erm...when you've had your fill." Not wanting to interrupt his meal.
He examined the steak for a few moments, lifting the piece of meat off of the plate with his fork and looking the entire slab over for any errant paint chips or tom-foolery. He was happy to see that the piece was done as requested, with zero flaws or paint chips. He picked up the knife and started to eat as he thought to himself about what he had said.
"While I am unable to speak from experience, I am fairly certain refugees would be happy enough just to have a warm place to stay, even if it meant a reduction in privacy for a short time. I will say though, it is very noble of you to work your bar into a place where if the need comes again, you can house each family in their own room."
For Marcus it also sounded like a bad financial decision on paper. Being nice could be done cheaply, and for somebody to model a place for something that had a sparse chance of happening seemed rather foolish. This was Gaia however, and he kept reminding himself that as he thought about it. Gaia had shown him that money flows quite thick in most pockets and the work of expanding this estate could easily be done with painted men or even magic.
Her sneeze into her hands almost resulted in his reaction being to cover his plate but he held his ground. He felt bad enough already that the poor thing was by itself, and his own comments had seen to hurt the creature judging by the reaction of its ears.
"I would love to take a tour of the establishment, just let me eat a bit more here so my stomach will stop complaining to me. I can bag the rest for later tonight I assume?"
Sell in May, and go away; don't come back until St Leger day.
“Hmm…” She closed her eyes, one of her ears twitching as if to flap away an annoying sound like a buzzing fly. Cery’s face grew a bit grim, before she straightened up and slid off of the bar stool. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to retract my offer.” She apologized with a small smile. “There’s something that I need to attend to first. But bagging the leftover is not a problem, and feel free to explore the grounds and buildings at your leisure. Um…please be careful as to where you step in some of the…uncompleted buildings, as I don’t have safety railings set up just yet.” She said before giving Marcus a polite bow. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Monroe. I hope that if we don’t cross paths again, then you have a pleasant journey.”
And with that, she was on her way.
(( Sorry, my eyes are starting to bother me, which means I need a break from the computer. ^_^ Thank you for visiting, and come again any time. ))
While Cery was nowhere closer to completing the renovations she had started so much earlier, and though it seemed she lost track of the elusive gypsy girl and her leocorn employee, the little artistic creature was thoroughly enjoying herself as she painted away at her servants. Her chef was almost complete, bald but handsome; while her butler-esque servant was prim and proper in his black suit and crisp bowtie…though his nose seemed more like a beak than an actual nose…something she hadn’t quite taken the time to adjust.
Location: The Library, Lower Level.
It would seem like time stood still within the walls of the Blank Slate. While the world around it was ever changing, going back and forth through only hours…maybe days would pass, the weather progressively changing from a comfortable summer day into something far more turbulent. A storm was coming, and it put Aisling on edge.
She found her way into the library, yet again…her fascination with the books and all the stories they contained always led her back into the two story room. The bamboo trees that were planted by the windows, to help filter the light and protect the books, gave the room an earthy, outdoor like feel that helped to prevent the superstitious gypsy girl from feeling like she was trapped within enclosed walls. The wall sconces lit up with candle light as she entered the room, and she idly made her way to the lower level to see what books she hadn’t read yet. Plucking one here…another there, her fingers laid upon an untitled book…a book that wouldn’t tip or budge when she tried to pull it from the shelf.
Aisling tilted her head, her black locks tumbling over her shoulder as she gave the book a curious look. Setting her other selections on a nearby table, she tried to tug on the book again…
So long, it felt like it had been so long since he last saw the ominous looking inn titled Blank Slate. For so long he slept in the forest that surrounded the rest, how long he could not remember. It may have been a day or so, possibly a bit less but the leocorn never did carry a watch. All he knew right now was that the sun was at the same spot he remembered before falling asleep. Clouds were rolling in heavy it seemed, just off in the distance and would cover the area in a few hours. The handsome anomaly of a man blinked slowly as he stood outside the arches and pillars that made up the porch. His silver, ringed horn caught the last gleams of sunlight through the leaves of trees and his white, animal-like ears flicked and adjusted on the sides of his head. He tousled his white and gray hair about on his head with his left hand, golden-yellow eyes staring head unamused by the doors that lie ahead. Eventually, the leocorn shrugged back his shoulders and walked inside. It was about time he took care of the bamboo in the library, else Cery would have his head! Or paint it on the wall somewhere...
He gave a grunt, thinking about the chores ahead of him and picked up the brass watering can he left by the door. His brown shoes made soft thuds on the flooring as he entered the room, about to make his way to the first pot of bamboo to water. Looking around, he sniffed the air, adjusted his ears and heard the struggle of something close by. He lifted a brow and sniffed again, it was an earthy smell not of this room, with a bit of a flowery scent... a woman? He suddenly got who it was and rolled his eyes. Her again, he thought and turned around to see what the gypsy girl was up to. She better not be messing up the order of the books! Rowen swore he had just redone them the other day..
It was almost funny how he didn't notice her walking in right away, but Rowen put it of his mind as he set the brass watering can down on an end table. "Can, I assist you?" He asked out in his usual gruff voice, reminiscent of a lion.