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Posted: Wed Jun 27, 2007 9:14 am
Lore took a fortifying sip of his wine and was pleased that his glass, at least, was not watered down. It was good wine, too, which also pleased him. Among the many useless abilities he had cultivated at court, drinking was one of them. He could hold his own drinking against most people in the king's court and the mages' university. Mages have a remarkable tolerance for alcohol, he had discovered, to the point that it could rival pirates'. When it seemed Genevieve would be unable to respond, he readied himself intercede on her behalf, before Malecoda did something. He had no idea what she would do, but the tone she had used to address Genevieve was not friendly, despite outward appearance. Lore had learned better than that. When Genevieve took the bait and asked Malecoda about her home, Lore beat his head against a brick wall mentally. He really ought to have warned Genevieve about Malecoda, rather than waxing loquacious about world theory and the Underground. What had he been thinking? Clearly, he hadn't been thinking at all. If he had been, he would have told Genevieve really important things, like the fact that friendliness from Malecoda was like tears from a crocodile. Malecoda seemed to have guessed the direction his thoughts had taken and slanted him an amused glance which shook him to his core. "I mean that before I lived here, I lived in your world. Terra Prime, Lore calls it. It's been some time since then, however, and I'm sure that much has changed. Perhaps you would care to enlighten me?" Lore hastily cleared his throat. "Actually, Sor, Genevieve just got here and she knows next-to nothing about the Underground or about the Goblin King's orbs. Maybe you could tell her about that? You know so much more about it than I, and would explain it ever so much better." "I know what you're doing, Lore, and I will allow it because it suits me to do so, but I will find out what I want to know," Malecoda said softly, her words meant for Lore's ears alone. "That seems reasonable. Please, take a seat." Malecoda conjured a seat for herself and set the example by sitting down. "What has Lore told you so far?"
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Posted: Wed Jun 27, 2007 12:11 pm
Genevieve found herself sitting down almost as soon as Malecoda suggested it. She had never met anyone with a more compelling personality. Even Andrew, she suspected, would have difficulty resisting Malecoda, if he bothered. He wasn't the sort to resist women. Certainly his force of personality, impressive before, was nothing compared to Malecoda's.
She found it incredibly difficult to believe that anyone like Malecoda had ever lived on Earth. The woman must have been someone famous. Or, more likely not. It seemed to Genevieve that the most beautiful people one ever sees are rarely celebrities, but rather the people one sees every day getting on and off the subway, but never talks to for fear of being disappointed. Well, bad example, but Genevieve had always thought that many of the real people she knew were better-looking by far than most celebrities.
However, she suspected that whomever Malecoda had been, it could not have been so long ago as the sorceress (Genevieve no longer questioned that, having met her) implied. She looked no older than Genevieve. She also suspected that even if Malecoda had not been famous, she had been powerful. It was impossible to feign such confidence in command.
Genevieve realized that she was staring, but it seemed to her that someone like Malecoda was used to it, or ought to be, so she forgave herself that, though she made a sincere effort not to stare. Instead, she looked at Lore and felt instantly guilty. She had forgotten his presence completely when Malecoda had entered. She had barely even seen him as he handed her her drink, she realized.
Then Malecoda asked her a question and her mind blanked briefly, though Dragul's presence in her lap, clinging now to her wrist helped her keep her wits about her better than before.
"He's explained, um, about dichotomous worlds, though I don't really understand that. He also said that, ah, the Underground is like a world where dreams and reality kind of combine?"
She felt incredibly stupid just talking to the well-bred and cultured woman before her. And then she felt much stupider as her mouth continued talking after her brain had told it to stop:
"I doubt it could have been so long since you were there. You don't look more than twenty at the oldest."
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Posted: Thu Jun 28, 2007 7:43 am
Lore's mental head bashing grew more emphatic. Malecoda, in this moment, reminded him of the king, how he would trap his courtiers into making mistakes which he would later use as excuses to penalize them or harbor grudges agains them. Malecoda seemed always to do this. She would start off creating petty reasons to dislike someone when she met them, and then she would turn it into something else, waiting until they did something which was a truly legitimate reason for her to dislike them. It was like she didn't want to like people. In truth, Lore got the feeling that she didn't actually want to like people, but he couldn't think why. Meanwhile, Malecoda's smile had become even sweeter. Had she been a food, she would have been honey. Poisonous honey. There had to be something beneath the sweet facade. There almost always was. And Lore couldn't help it; he didn't want Genevieve subjected to Malecoda's inevitable animosity. Genevieve seemed a decent sort of person, not deserving of an enemy such as Malecoda. "Then he seems to have given you an adequate explanation. One truly has to experience the Underground before one can understand all that it is. And, thank you. I'm not often contradicted. I forget what it's like, sometimes." Lore stifled a gasp as he realized the full extend of what Malecoda was doing. And Genevieve was already ensnared. "Malecoda," he said, just a little sharply, making sure he attracted her attention. When he was sure he had it he gave her a funny smile and asked, "Can I talk to you for a minute? In private?" "Not now, apprentice." "It's important." His tone had become flat with finality. Malecoda's mismatched eyes darted back and forth between Lore and Genevieve before she excused herself graciously and allowed Lore to lead her into the next chamber. When they emerged, Malecoda's demeanor seemed to have altered.
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Posted: Fri Jun 29, 2007 7:22 am
Genevieve watched Lore and his mistress depart with a sinking feeling as she realized that she had managed to offend the majestic personage to whom Lore was apprenticed and whom Genevieve wanted desperately to like her. She had known people like Malecoda before, people who everyone wants to please and be liked by simply because they cannot help it. It's a compulsion which Genevieve knew could become an obsession very easily. It amazed her that Lore seemed so immune to Malecoda. Perhaps it was prolonged exposure.
While the two were gone - she had no idea what they were doing - Genevieve spoke to Dragul.
"What do you think? Are we stuck here?" she asked, hoping that the goblin undera might know more about the situation than she, being a denizen of this world.
Dragul was less than helpful and shrugged. "Dunno," she said.
"Lysander is very quiet. Does he not like me?"
It was a startling thing for the little goblin to ask. Genevieve had never known Dragul to be concerned about anyone's opinion before in her life. She wondered if her companion had the beginnings of a crush on Lysander. That was difficult for her to imagine. Just in case, she was judicious in her answer.
"I think he's just very quiet. Try asking him things instead of telling him things. And don't ask 'yes or no' questions, or he'll just nod or shake his head," she advised.
How had it come to be that she was offering relationship advice? She had almost been in one relationship, and that had been just completely embarrassing. Even thinking about it now she blushed. What else had she expected from Andrew?
"What do I ask?"
Dragul's speech was much improved, though slower because she concentrated so hard on speaking correctly. Dragul had never shown much interest in speaking clearly either. Genevieve had the uncomfortable feeling that Dragul was in the grip of a childhood crush, if the undera form could be equated to childhood. She guessed that the corsea form she had seen with Finch, Raeli, was something akin to a teenager.
"I don't know. Ask him about himself. Men like to talk about themselves."
Dragul nodded thoughtfully. "How do I ask?"
Here Genevieve was stumped. Relationship advisors always said to ask people about themselves, but Genevieve had never quite known what that meant. She supposed it could be anything, as long as one avoided "yes or no" questions.
"Ask him about what he likes to do. If he offers to show you, go with it."
Dragul nodded again. "What if I don't like it?"
Genevieve herself would simply have gone along with the guy whether she liked the activity or not, but she didn't feel comfortable telling her oddly insecure companion to do the same. Humans played those games, but she didn't need to teach them to Dragul, who was clearly not human.
"Try it, and then suggest something you like to do," she said finally.
"What if he doesn't like it?"
"Keep trying different things until you find something you both like."
"Will we be here long enough?"
Genevieve shook her head and murmured, "I don't know."
As she said this, Lore and Malecoda returned, and Malecoda seemed different. Lore, too, seemed different. More tired, perhaps.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 7:08 am
Upon returning, Lore saw that Genevieve's Undera now sat on her lap and they seemed to have just concluded a conversation. He hoped for the sake of all that it had been in no way similar to the conversation he had just experienced with Malecoda, which had been harrowing and awful and something he hoped never to have to repeat. Ever. Malecoda re-seated herself on the chaise and Lore sat in another chair. It would have looked to an outsider like Malecoda was holding court and like Lore and Genevieve were her synchophants, in which they might have been correct after a fashion. Lore was certainly Malecoda's, whether a synchophant or somthing else. Whatever it pleased her that he be. Genevieve, he hoped, would not fall similarly under Malecoda's spell. It would be harder for her, he guessed, than for him. "Is there anything you would like to know that Lore hasn't told you?" Malecoda asked. Lore could hear that she was being extremely careful not to be cloyingly, frighteningly sweet, nor abrasive, which tended to be the two extremes for her moods. She was frightening no matter what mood she was in, he had found, though she was less frightening in some than in others. This odd thing she was doing, trying not to be frightening, unnerved Lore, but perhaps it was because he was more accustomed to her. Lysander was not particularly unnerved, however, since Malecoda had finished with her temper tantrum, and he wandered about the room quietly. Always quietly.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 7:30 am
I'm going to try to wrap this up. So, yeah. Watch me wrap.
"No, there was nothing in particular," Genevieve said, feeling discomfitted.
Dragul slipped off her lap and went over to Lysander, not rushing as was her usual tendency, but making her way at a relatively normal pace. When she caught up with him, she said very softly, speaking under the humans' voices, "What do you like to do?"
She never got an answer, though, because the scenery around both herself and Genevieve began to swirl and the colors ran together, like a melting reel of film. Genevieve felt like she was inside a kaleidoscope, dizzy and disoriented, and more than slightly ill, and closing her eyes only helped a little.
When she opened her eyes again she was home, on her couch.
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