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 Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2009 6:08 am
(( It's okay, meleth. All I ask is that you try. :] Trust me, hanging around big posters eventually, gradually helps you make meatier posts as well. ))
Madam Usagi
The Madam took into consideration everything Lauren had said, and thought on it whilst sipping her tea. Intelligent? Well, all her Companions were intelligent; Madam Usagi didn't accept just anyone into her kingdom. Though it wasn't as if she hadn't made an error in judgment before. Once or twice she had approached a potential Companion and asked for a chat only to realize that, while pretty and talented on the outside, they were rather thoughtless. Not too talkative? Well, that suited Sonnen to a T, but even Madam Usagi knew the man was a bit of a p***k sometimes; it took a certain personality to appreciate Sonnen's quirks. Othello was rather talkative, but was capable of being tame if need be. However, his personality was a bit overwhelming to some, and he might be a bit much for the level-headed Lauren. Whom else was available at the moment? Many Companions were on vacation or spending time elsewhere lately, so she didn't have many on staff at the moment. Troublesome. However, her eyes never betrayed her emotions, still remaining cool and friendly.
"Mr. Green," she started slowly, thinking through her words before she said them, "I can show you some profiles. I have them all right here." She opened the drawer built into the frilly table and extracted a thick pile of colored folders. She plopped them in the middle of the table, resting her hand on them. "However—" she held a finger up, "—I think it would be more beneficial to you to meet my Companions in person." She smiled then. "And keep these until you've decided on a Companion." She slid the bag of tantalizing emeralds back to Lauren. Oh, she had no doubt she would get business from Lauren; he looked like a man with a plan. The Madam liked that. He knew exactly what he wanted, and the determined glint in his eye was almost as appealing as the light glinting off those emeralds (which she had a plan for once Lauren chose a Companion). "What do you think?" she offered finally, refilling her delicate tea cup. Of course if he wanted to just look at a file with a basic biography and a photo of the Companion and choose from that she wouldn't stop him, but the Madam was very rarely wrong.
"Madam." She almost jumped out of her skin as the voice sounded in her ear. Instead, she just listened closer. "There's a young boy at the door with a suit case, Madam. He seems quite sketchy to me, Madam. Would you like I should escort him out, Madam?" Oh dear. Her countenance darkened an iota, but she smiled reassuringly at Lauren. Patting his hand, the Madam said softly, "I'll be back shortly. I have a small amount of business to take care of. Please, have some tea, eat a cookie!" she encouraged. She stood and smoothed her long skirt primly before exiting the cozy room. Once she had the door closed behind her, she pressed against something in her ear. A thin wire extended from it, curving around to the corner of her mouth, a small receiver at the end. "Stand down, darling," she told the servant through the receiver. "I'll be there in a pip. That might be our Client for this afternoon."
"Yes, Madam."
"And please, one 'Madam' per conversation is sufficient."
"Of course. Thank you."
"Any time, dearie." The pressed against the headset module in her ear once more, and the microphone wire retracted. As she navigated her way back to the entrance, she wondered why the person at the door would have a suit case, unless they were a traveling salesman. However, that couldn't be the reason, because they weren't allowed past the gate. Was it a returning Companion? No, if it were then the servants wouldn't have questioned him. The Madam wouldn't be expecting a young boy to be a Client, but everything was possible. Checking her exotic up-do in a reflective window briefly, she approached the foyer. Even from this distance she could tell she'd never met this boy before, though she reminded her of a Companion she used to have. Their appearances were almost identical. Platinum blond hair, wide, pale eyes, waifish. From this boy's appearance she could tell she meant them no harm. However, two servants flanked the boy on either side, holding one arm firmly each. She waved her hands at them in a dismissal, pleased as the servants released the skittish-looking boy and went back to their duties.
"Well met, young man," she greeted, not advancing too close in case that made him nervous. Compared to the tall Madam, this boy was rather short, and she didn't want to tower over him or intimidate him. She placed one hand on her thigh as she bent slightly, extending her other hand to shake. "I am the Madam of this household. Please—" she gestured to a passing servant to carry the boy's suitcase for him. He did so dutifully, following the pair as Madam Usagi gently led the boy with a hand on his back to the sitting room that connected to the dining room, accessible by a door. Though the door was closed at the moment, so the other Companions in the dining room wouldn't be able to peep in. She gestured for the blond boy to have a seat, and told the servant to set the suitcase next to his chair. Once done, she called for tea and cookies to be brought out. The Madam sat across from him, smiling warmly. "Now tell me, young man, why you have come knocking on my door carrying that suitcase?"
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2009 6:37 am
lauren Malone ††Emerald††
Lauren listened as the profiles were pushed closer to him. He would much prefer to see them in person, since he never trusted for paper to tell him what he needed to know. When he heard Madame Usagi suggest the same thing, he nodded, then saw her seem a little bit angry. He noticed a bit of metal in her ear and understood. "You are most hospitable Madame. Thank you." He said as she walked out.
He took this as an opportunity to look around. She was definitely one to mask her emotions, and did it well. He found that wise considering her line of work, where one had to be gracious and happy all the time. He had not missed that the emeralds had been pushed back towards him, and couldn't help but smile slightly. Madame Usagi was fair as well.
If no one appealed to him, then she was letting him know that he wouldn't need to pay her as he would simply leave, an admiral quality. He was certain, however, that Madame Usagi would have just the type of person he wanted. She always did.
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2009 8:36 am
**Theodore**Tel** Tel's fear of a household staff was quickly realized. Though he was invited a few steps into the foyer, and the men handled him gently enough, it was obvious that his status of "univited guest" was enough to cause a very quiet uproar. Luckily the madam's staff didn't want to evict him without her input and he was relieved to see her enter the foyer. She very graciously greeted him given the circumstances, and he lifted his hand with a dancer's grace to shake her hand with a light yet firm grasp. Tel released his suitcase without comment and walked easily next to her as she led him through the mansion. His soft footsteps were further muffled into silence by the thickly embroidered luxurious carpets that decorated the wide hardwood floored halls. Tel was very aware that his faded jeans, thin t-shirt, and worn jacket stood out unpleasantly against the opulent setting, but it was quite simply all he had besides his dance leotards.
When they reached the sitting room Tel eased down onto the very edge of a plush chair; the air of the madam made him feel as though he should be standing to address her, especially since he had come to request something of her. "Madam, I apologize for intruding upon you in this way," he began in voice just this side of quiet; it would not require any straining to hear, merely attentiveness. "I can only assume that you have plenty of business to attend to, business that scheduled itself with you as is proper. It is my understanding that you have no need to take petitioners, the rumors surrounding your business all point to you having everything so very well in hand that such things are not necessary. It is because of this solid reputation that I have sought you out. I would like to offer myself to your employment, if you will have me. I do not come here as a charity case; I am fully prepared to demonstrate my talents for you to judge as you see fit. If they please you I will be a very grateful and hardworking employee. I realize that you have no need to honor my request to showcase my skills and am fully prepared to leave right now if that is what you wish," this last was given to make sure the madam understood that she was not dealing with a beggar who would make a scene if rejected. The whole short speech was given with no indication of fear or excitement; simple sincerity was all that showed. Tel sat with gentle poise, his hands loosely intertwined in his lap, as he waited for the madam to consider his words.
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2009 12:14 pm
Voltaire: Sonnen
Sonnen rolled his eyes as Othello bumped his shoulder as he stalked away. Honestly, he was so titchy sometimes. Sighing, he waited until the boy was further ahead than he before following the same path. However, he didn't want to be alone in the kitchen with him since he was apparently quite miffed with him. Not that Sonnen could blame him, but dealing with an angry, irrational boy who was five years his junior didn't sound appetizing. So, to burn some time, Sonnen dodged into a nearby bathroom. He ignored the urinals and stalls and went directly to a mirror, finger-combing his hair. He sighed, thinking about his brash treatment of Othello. It wasn't the first time he'd done it, and he sort of wished he was a little less harsh with him, but he sometimes felt he couldn't help it. He didn't really dislike Othello as much as he'd lead on — in fact, Sonnen didn't have the energy to truly dislike much of anyone — but he'd always been a bit of a bully to him. The boy's personality was Sonnen's anthesis practically, so he made it very easy to pick on him.
Alright, it had been about five minutes. Sonnen couldn't make his appearance any more immaculate than it already was, so he stopped fussing over his hair and left the bathroom, making sure to wash his hands for good measure. Good, Othello had left the kitchen; he was probably in the dining room. He nodded to the kitchen staff, thankful that they were finally awake (otherwise Sonnen would be left to his own devices for cooking, which he couldn't do worth a damn), and accepted his plate: swedish pancakes with lingonberry jam. He was assured their beverages were waiting in the dining room, so Sonnen thanked them and entered. Othello looked... petulant? Pouty? Something like that as he was putting his ridiculous Tarot cards back into his bag. He rolled his eyes faintly. Honestly, those cards were nothing but pictures, and there was absolutely no practical way to go about reading someone's future or anything with them. Everything happened because of consequence and coincidence, and a pack of cards couldn't predict anything, except maybe a paper cut. Completely illogical and a bunch of hullabaloo, if you asked him. Though his opinion was never asked by Othello, so Sonnen kept his thoughts to himself. He did have a little tact, after all.
Sonnen had a seat on the same side of the dining room table as Othello, but kept two chair's space between them. From the confines of his jacket, he extracted a small book, barely the size of his hand, and set it next to his plate. A delicate pair of reading glasses were plucked from a hidden pocket on the lining of Sonnen's long coat, perched on his nose to frame mercurial eyes. With his left hand he cradled the sleeveless book, and with his right hand he demurely cut his Swedish pancakes into bite-sized pieces. He'd just opened his book to his previous place (he hardly used bookmarks; he could usually remember his place in his book by memory alone) when he heard a doorbell ring. Good lord, what was with all these visitors recently? He heard footfalls as a servant bustled over to open the door. With a small, "Hmmm," noise, Sonnen closed his book again. He shot Othello a 'stay here' look, not bothering to check if the boy was even looking at him to see it, and walked silently to out of the dining room and into the kitchen, where the door was open and he had a clear view of who was being restrained in the foyer. He smirked.
"Madam," he heard one of the servants say into his earpiece. He couldn't hear the rest of it, but at the end of his message the blond boy in their clutches looked a little downhearted. He was dressed most scrappily and looked like he could use a hair brush. And some frizz serum. And a trim. Something asymmetrical would work with his facial structure... 'Oh, shut up,' he mentally berated himself. Still, the boy had a scruffy cuteness to him, Sonnen was forced to admit. Though his eyes weren't at all innocent looking — quite out of place on the rest of his demeanor, really. Shortly he heard the click-clacking of the Madam's heels on the marble floor, and was surprised as she waved the guards away and led the boy... near him. Crap. He ensconced himself against the wall as they passed, hoping he hadn't been seen, before peeking out again. She was... taking him to the attached sitting room? He sighed. The Madam really was too generous, always taking in 'strays.'
Well, that was that, he supposed. ...But if he stayed really quiet, he could probably hear what was going on in the room attached to the dining room. He made haste back to the dining room and sat down in his spot once again, looking composed as usual. Still, he tried to eat with muffled movements, hoping he could hear what they were saying. Indeed, he could! The boy was talking softly, and he showed no fear. Sonnen admired that. It was difficult to show braveness in the vicinity of such a powerful beauty like Madam Usagi. Still, at the end of his little monologue, Sonnen arched and eyebrow so high it threatened to hit his hairline. "Is he mad?" he mumbled to himself. He'd never heard of anyone seeking the Madam out for a job. The Madam sought others out, not the other way around. Still, the Madam was known for being unpredictable, so he supposed he had no idea how she would react. But that boy looked no older than fifteen, maybe sixteen. "Hmm," he said again. Finally, he turned back to his book, still listening if he could hear the Madam's response.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 7:40 pm
Madam Usagi
Well, of all the things the Madam expected to hear from a little blond boy in ragged clothes and a suitcase, this was probably near the bottom of the list. It was a rather new development, actually. She'd never been approached by a job seeker before. For the most part it was because not many knew who she was. Her company was known only by the big-timing corporations who could pay the price needed for her services. For the most part, they kept it hush-hush. The information had somehow gotten leaked to the little urchin; he must have come in contact with a very high-up Client at some point or another. The other reason no one had ever approached her for a job before was that most people were intimidated by her, be it her looks, her power, or her reputation. Now, the things they said about her were mostly myths. For example, she didn't keep her Companions as slaves or prisoners; they were free to live where they chose, but her household being more accommodating to most, they usually chose to live at the mansion part or most of the time. So, to put it simply, Madam Usagi was surprised by the boy's offer. She wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. She admired his courage and boldness, but was the action appropriate?
Next, she contemplated his appearance. He could use a bit of buffing, some smoothing around the edges. But why was he wearing these things? He apparently knew about her standards and reputation (how ever wrong it may be), so his reason for wearing this was probably not by choice. He seemed sensical, and would know more formal attire would be more appropriate, but by the fact that he wasn't wearing such suggested he didn't own such. Knowing what she did at this point, he probably wore them because he couldn't afford finer clothes. This led her to believe he had an unsavory job, or was jobless, either of which would encourage him to find a more appeasing style of living, ie, Guilty Pleasures. And he was cuuute, she thought fondly, like how one would look at puppies in a pet shop window (which she did often). Her eyes were drawn to his suitcase. He said he'd prove his talents to her, as well. Once again, since he seemed aware of her standards, she knew he wouldn't approach her for a job if his skills weren't damn good. She had high expectations for this boy. She decided she wanted to keep him, and by the suitcase, he seemed perfectly fine being kept.
His mature way of speaking impressed her as well. The only other she'd heard who spoke so smoothly and articulately, aside from herself, had been Sonnen. Sure, the other Companions were capable of formal speech, but it didn't flow effortlessly for everyone. Not like this boy, who was probably older than he looked. He showed maturity far past his age, which was rare nowadays. His accepting manner, his posture all spoke of fine etiquette. He was a fine young man indeed. Suddenly her mind flashed back to Mr Green. "Preferably a companion that isn't too talkative, and is intelligent. I'd rather not have a companion whom I cannot have a conversation with." Her eyes shined with realization. From what she could tell so far, this blond boy fit the bill perfectly. Mr Green would love this boy. After contemplating this for awhile, Madam Usagi smiled slowly.
"You know," she started casually. The tea was brought in thusly, and the Madam made herself a cup, gesturing for the boy to help himself, "I don't let many people waltz in and offer to work for me. If they know who I am without me telling them directly, then I assume they know too much, and I'd have to put a stop to any chance that person might have of telling others of my wealth and power — or I have to keep them." Her smile turned more mischievous. "See? If I let them go, then they might, as the saying goes, 'spread the word.' But if I keep them, then they're under my supervision, so I can keep an eye on them. And since I can't bear to let such a powerful spirit such as yourself be let loose... I guess I'll have to keep you," she finished lightly, shooting him a playful wink to show her humor. Of course she was teasing. If someone knew about her, they knew not to spread it around, so that wasn't a problem. She would never 'put an end' to anyone for such a silly reason. And if someone did know of Guilty Pleasures, then they were told it was a company owned by an anonymous benefactor; her name was never mentioned. Of course, 'Madam Usagi' being an alias, they couldn't get too much on her even if they tried; but one could never be too careful.
"Now that that's settled," she started more formally, setting her teacup down, "I would very much like to know your name and what you do. I am Madam Usagi," she introduced. She gestured for him to demonstrate his abilities for her — but not before trying to guess, of course. Hm. He was small and slight, much like another Companion she used to have, the one she had thought this boy was identical to. The previous Companion had been a dancer, so that was her first guess. He didn't speak with bold, round tones like Sonnen, so she doubted he was a singer. He was a bit of a mystery. Many times she could tell one's talent by their body type. One Companion she'd had before had been heavily muscled and agile, so she'd automatically guessed gymnast, and she had been quite close; he'd been a circus performer, an acrobat and contortionist. He'd had gymnastics and tumbling training his whole life. One other such Companion was more muscled more in his arms than other places, and she had guessed he did gun shooting or something like javelin throwing. That one she had been a bit off, as he'd been an archer, but she'd isolated the muscle group into a set pool of talents. However, she tried to stop her musing on old Companions and tuned back into the situation at hand, looking at the boy expectantly. "Don't be shy now," she encouraged.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 10:21 pm
SoleraAlmost there. Beautifully sculpted hills rolled by covered with all sorts of odd plants and wildlife. Strangely enough there were a few old redwood trees amongst the sycamores and oaks. And frolicking with the deer, there were elks and even a few caribou. Golden chysanthemums bloomed alongside jovial desert roses and clusters of royal bluebells. Maybe that lone metal tower atop the high peaks explained something. Metal railings and beams made up most of it, forming the shape of a cylinder staked into a square brick building. At the top sparks of blue and white escaped from a triangular structure but dissipated into the atmosphere before it could cause any harm to the green shrubbery below. What the edifice was called, he couldn't recall. All in all, these types of scenes were becoming more and more common by the minute.
Dimitri tore his eyes away from the passing mountainside to Gervas, who sat across from him in the black armored stretch limo. The plush white seats didn't make a noise as the somber man positioned the heel of a charcoal combat boot onto rough, dark russet designer jeans. Something was bothering him, and it wasn't the recent dismissal of a flirtatious maid. Had it been his father's phone call, or his mother's most recent letter and package? Right after the maid had finished packing, his father had called to voice his concerns on 'that strange woman,' he'd given bottles of priceless liquor to. They were part of Dimitri's collection, and so had nothing to do with that man. Yet, blah blah blah, think about your choices, blah, about their worth, blah blah, for what? blah blah blah. He couldn't get a word in edgewise even if he'd wanted to. His father had been on a 'diciplinary' roll and only something on a scale of a hurricane would shut him up. Not a tropical storm, it had to be a hurricane. It was all dribble in the end anyway, since he wouldn't do anything about what Dimitri did. He'd only keep talking. Then when he tired, he'd make some excuse and leave. Or in this case, hang up before Dimtri could even bother to say farewell.
"Ma--Dimitri, sir? Are you feeling well?" Gervas noticed his employer's look of disdain directed in his direction. So naturally, he'd been worried about his term of employment. He'd once seen a man being fired simply because 'he looked strange.' Though to let the butler go now would be odd, even for such a temperamental and sometimes irrational Master. Yes, in his thoughts he would still call the youth Master, no matter how much the other detested it.
The man in question appeared startled at the sudden voice, as if he hadn't expected anyone else to be here but him. Then he came back to reality, realizing where he was, and what he was doing. "Of course I'm fine," Dimitri answered defensively. What else could he be? "Did you lock up the painting in the third safe as I ordered?" he asked evasively, not wanting to dwell on his health, mental or otherwise.
Gervas played along like any good domestic. "The madam's painting is perfectly locked up titanium safe number fifteen," he replied quickly, folding gloved hands onto his lap. He was about to make an inquiry about this whole 'companion,' thing when he noticed Dimitri staring off into space again. Knowing full well that another interruption would set the man off, he kept his mouth zipped. Wisely so.
The madam, as Gervas was so fond of calling her, had mailed a long frilly letter based on tea, birds, and her latest shipment of amorphous metals she was planning on using in her latest design. There were ton of technicals on whatever top secret experiment she vaguely mentioned. But even with such scarce and terribles clues, he could guess there was a new type of laser in the makings. One strong enough to easily melt through three feet of titanium alloy using only the energy needed to clap ones hands. That letter was also locked into a safe. One smaller and more resilient. And with twice as much security. It was the only present his mother had ever given him that he actually still used.
Before he knew it, they were on mansion grounds, moving towards the main house. Apparently that new man, Teddy, had smoothly ensured their entrance during Dimitri's seemingly short thoughts on his mother. They were parked in the vast driveway, not wanting to take up too much space up near the house. It seemed Gervas had informed the new man well. Even though he was an invited guest, there were always issues when parking that close to any living quarters. Situations such as things 'accidentally,' dropping out of windows, and his automobile getting scratched up, or any other car 'accidents,' along with the occasional 'random' theft of a tire or any other car part. Why people had such problems with his behavior to such a degree eluded him. It wasn't as if he was rude most of the time or anything... And he was definitely not that unlucky. Yet, so long as they didn't perform any of those things in front of his face, he was fine. That meant they still feared him.
The fine white sparkling stones beneath their feet were crunched enthusiastically as the small group leisurely made their way to Madam Usagi's. D. A. Kieva
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Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 7:26 am
**Theodore**Tel** Tel poured a small cup of the hot tea, adding a drop of cream and a drop of honey before stirring the liquid without tinking the spoon against the cup. He sipped slowly, enjoying the burn as the hot tea went down his throat. The madam was not the foolish sort who felt they had to fill a silence and took her time as she considered him. Presently however, she accepted his proposition in so many playful words. A slight tightening of the outside corners of Tel's eyes was all that let on that he liked her humor. He was rather surprised that she had offered to keep him before seeing his performance and felt even more determined not to let her down. He would put on the show of his life. Perhaps that very reaction had been her intent when she accepted him thus.
Placing his cup on the small ornate table, Tel replied, "Madam, I am honored you would provide me this chance. My name is Theodore Boon, but I have been called Tel for most of my life." He flicked his hand in a circle to encompase his suitcase and backpack. "If it pleases you, I would change into more appropriate clothing. An outside setting may be preferable so I may show you the full range of my talents," Tel continued. "Also, while I do not require it, any audience there might be may benefit from some sort of musical accompianment," he suggested. While Tel could dance to any music, he also always had a tune in his head to dance to if an outside source was not to be had. As a performer Tel was prepared to dance for any size audience whether the madam chose to vet him alone or in front of others. Tel stood and lifted his bag, but waited for the madam to voice how she would like this to be run.
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Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 8:44 pm
H i k a r u - G a l i a n d e r-O t h e l l o  One thing Othello didn't understand was why Sonnen hated him so much. It wasn't like Othello ever did anything to the man. He sighed as he continued eating his rice in silence. His eyes turned down toward the fish as he added a little of that to his rice. It tasted boring when it was plain. He heard foot steps and his eyes looked up meeitng with Sonnen's for only a minute. He felt his heart jump for a minute as he looked towards the man. he didn't know what to do so his eyes just returned to the man's. He crossed his arms slightly as he stopped eating and watched the man chow down on his waffles. He wanted to ask the man why he hated him but the door bell rang and he placed his hands down on the table to stand up and get it but the glare that Sonnen shot him made his blood boil slightly as he sat down and watched as the other stood to get the door.
Othello wanted to throw something after him as he watched the man walk out. He sat quiet his eyes turned down as he looked rather upset. He had been here almost three months now and all Sonnen did was ignore him and be raid him. He bit his lip slightly as he placed down his chop sticks loosing interest in the food that was placed before him. His eyes turned away as his hand reached out and wrapped around the tea cup. He placed it to his lips and drank in silence. This was horrible. He felt like he was a child in time out. When Sonnen returned he heard voices in the other room and his eyes turned toward the wall for a minute. He continued drinking his tea not really caring what was going on. Madam would tell them eventually. He glanced towards Sonnen who was reading but from how he was reading could tell the man was listening. He scoffed to himself as he looked towards the man. He didn't care if he was going to break his hearing of the other room.
"Sonnen why the hell do you hate me so much?" Othello snapped with more annoyance then he had intended but he didn't wither. He wanted answers and he was planning on getting them whether the man was willing to or not. He glared at him his blue eyes narrowed as his auburn hair hung neatly in his face. He placed his hands down on the table as he stood up his motions pushing the chair out behind him, "What the heck did I ever do to you huh?" he snapped as he looked towards the reading male. Othello admired Sonnen so he did his best to not annoy the man but that alone seemed to annoy the other. He didn't get it but it pissed him off more then he liked. He sighed as he closed his eyes before looking darkly down at him waiting for a response. "Because I honestly can't think of any good reason.." he hissed.
Being a short tempered little bat was something Othello didn't do rather often but when it came to Sonnen something tricked a nerve. He didn't dislike the man but at the same time he didn't see why he was treated like a less then intelligent bird who needed to be kicked and put in a cage with a pad lock. it annoyed him to blistered. There were so many things he saw that he liked in the man but at times like this Othello wanted nothing more but to slap that book into Sonnen's face and slam it into his pancakes. He was in a rather annoyed huff as his arms came up and crossed neatly under his breast as his foot tapped slightly showing his impatience. He looked like he was ready to kill. He frowned as his blue eyes turned into those of his Idol. He hated this feeling of not being able to catch up to the man. He felt his eyes begin to sting, he knew he was tired but this was no reason to cry. He glanced away for a minute his blue eyes grew moist as he blinked away the disappear what was rising in his gut. He hated this tension he hated Sonnen and he wanted nothing more right then to stomp out and quit. 
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Posted: Wed Aug 26, 2009 4:29 pm
Voltaire: Sonnen
Sonnen smirked faintly when he heard the Madam's 'keeping' speech. How cute. He mentally sighed; looked like they had a new Companion to get to know. It seemed that the Companions the Madam was accepting kept getting younger and younger. Othello he knew was five years younger than himself, and this new boy looked even younger than the redhead. He sure hoped the Madam knew what she was doing; a drop in the age cap could mean less professionalism. Of course that wouldn't be true for himself, but there were certain others he knew wouldn't make it here if not for their age, their experiences. During his musings, he tried to listen to the blond boy's response, so one could understand his startle when Othello suddenly snapped at him. He jumped, eyes widening briefly before his mask relaxed back into composure. Well, that was unexpected. All the other times he'd picked on the boy, he'd fumed silently, stomped off, or well, snapped at him; however, those times, he'd snarled petulant words, indignant words, never a question. Therefore, he was stressed for an answer.
What did he ever do to him? Oh, goodness, another question he had to carefully pick an answer for. However, even after opening his mouth, no answer came forth. He had no idea. There was no good reason. In fact, there was no reason at all. Sonnen had never harbored actual hatred for the boy. Annoyance sometimes, yes. A bit of jealousy, he'd never admit, for the boy's youthful enthusiasm. Enthusiasm, exuberance, something Sonnen was never blessed with. He was taught that such behavior was undignified, unbecoming, and shameful. He guessed he sort of expected everyone else to think that, too. He expected Othello to feel remorse for his over excitement, but he never was. Did this annoy him? Well, yes, because to Sonnen, it wasn't how things were done, and didn't the boy know that? Though over the course of the three months Othello had been with them at Guilty Pleasures, he slowly became accustomed to the hyperactivity, thinking it normal, but still annoying. He'd taken pleasure in bringing the boy down a notch, where he belonged. But— oh crap, he was crying. Well, not actually crying, but there was a definite sheen in his eyes, a suspicious mistiness about the blue orbs.
Crap. He'd gone too far.
He sighed audibly this time, feeling like he'd kicked a puppy or taken a toy from a child, the petty shame of a wrongdoer. He'd always toed the line with such matters, pushing people to their limits, then backing off. However, apparently instead of releasing the angry energy directed at himself from Othello, the boy kept it inside until he exploded. All right, it was okay to be remorseful now, he supposed. For one, he didn't want the boy to leave Guilty Pleasures because of him; the Madam would be furious with him if he alienated a (another) Companion. She cared about all the Companions like a mother hen, and would be extremely upset if one of her chickies flew the nest. For two, as he'd thought before, he didn't hate the boy; he merely enjoyed, well, being mean to him. Okay, when he thought of it like that, it made it sound much worse. Or maybe it was really that bad, and he hadn't realized it until now. Still, action had to be taken now, else the consequences might leave his head on the chopping block. But he wouldn't admit that he didn't want to boy to leave, or think Sonnen hated him; this was simply for the better of the company. Yes, the company. Nothing whatsoever to do with his emotional investment.
Sonnen closed his book and set it aside, placing his now closed reading glasses atop it. He too stood from his chair, albeit calmer and gentler than Othello had. He approached the boy, then leaned his hip against the table, his hand resting on its top. His auburn-black head was ducked slightly in contemplation of what to say. Many things came to the forefront, but he knew he had to choose his words wisely. He sighed again, and reached with his other arm to cup the back of Othello's neck, then pulled him forward so the boy leaned against Sonnen's taller frame in an awkward hug, that probably wasn't all that consoling, but seemed like the correct thing to do. He made sure Othello's face was turned so his face wasn't crushed in his jacket, then spoke:
"I don't hate you, foolish boy," he muttered, not having the courage to speak louder. He shifted his arm so it now held him loosely across the shoulders instead of cradling his neck. However, he spoke 'foolish boy' without malicious intent; it was almost an endearment, almost spoken fondly, but fell just short of it; he wasn't sure he knew how to talk to someone that way. Then he found himself at a loss for words. What else did he have to say? He bit his lip in concentration, searching for something else. "You are simply too tempting." The phrase itself could come across as playful, but that wasn't Sonnen's style. It was said dryly, honestly. Then he realized that the phrasing made it sound suspiciously like a confession of that sort. Crap. "To tease, that is," he quickly — almost too quickly — corrected. ...And now he wasn't sure what else to do. Of course he didn't expect to be forgiven just like that for having set the boy off, but he at least deserved to know Sonnen didn't hate him. Hate took too much energy, anyway.
Maybe the hug had lasted too long. Not being a frequent hugger, Sonnen wasn't made aware of hugging etiquette, and therefore was unsure as to the appropriate length of a hug. Well. He was sure when Othello got disgusted enough, he'd pull away. Maybe the hug wasn't such a good idea after all, since Othello's eyes threatened to light him afire and run him through with daggers. Oh well. Too late now.
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Posted: Fri Aug 28, 2009 7:11 pm
H i k a r u - G a l i a n d e r-O t h e l l o Hear the book close Othello's hands came up to defend himself. He looked towards the other. When he walked over Othello stepped back and winced slightly his eyes in a flinch as he looked towards the to hand that was coming towards him. He stumbled forwards as Sonnen pulled in him into his chest. He rested his forehead slightly on the others collarbone and tensed as he looked towards the chair he was sitting in and felt his heart beating against his chest. He looked towards the man above him. His eyes still a little moist as he kept his hand's at his side. He didn't know what to do.
"I don't hate you foolish boy."
Othello's eyes widened for a minute as he looked towards the man and blinked for a minute. He glanced towards the floor as he heard the second part and he felt his heart skip a beat but the fast correction discouraged him slightly. He frowned as he nodded his head against the others chest and tried to make himself feel a little better. He nodded his head slightly as his arms came up and neatly wrapped around Sonnen for a short slightly uncomfortable hug. "Your forgiven...I am sorry I snapped..." Othello said as he pulled back after a minute.
Crossing his arms slightly Othello looked up at Sonnen. He frowned as he looked towards Sonnen, "You aren't very nice to me hun...You should try and be nicer." he demanded. He walked forwards and wrapped his arms around Sonnen's waist and rested his face in the man's stomach. His pale blue eyes closed as he sniffled slightly. He didn't like being treated like Sonnen treated him.
Having someone he looked up to treat him like an annoyance was more troublesome then anything else the man had to deal with. He liked making people happy and there was no point in having people angry with him. He looked towards the man once more and he pulled back and touched his hands neatly into his pockets. He glanced down at his tarot cards and a small smirk on his face. He looked down at the floor with a small smirk on his face. "I'll forget all the times you where mean to me if you let me do your tarot..." he said with puppy eyes. He looked towards the man and placed his hands on his hip.
[( Sorry it's so terribly short. I am having writers blockage. )]
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 4:18 pm
Madam Usagi
The Madam was quite pleased at Tel's boldness to perform for her without even a trace of shyness. She would need to get his picture, have him fill out a profile survey, fingerprints, social security, all that, but that could wait until after the performance, which she was still eager to see. Ah! An audience, of course, and... yes, it was about time for her other Client to show up. An audience there would be, indeed. Oh, musical accompaniment, that would be Sonnen for sure, who was always eager to show off his talents as well. The Madam deflated slightly when she realized she couldn't ask Othello for use of any of his talents at this particular junction, but she would still ask him to attend. Better to see if Tel had performance anxiety or not (though the Madam didn't think he would). Ah! And Mister Green, of course. She'd have to fetch him and bring him along. But first to tend to Tel's dressing room.
"Of course, Tel," she answered in reference to his name. Now for a dressing room... Ah, of course! He would need quarters immediately if he was going to be staying here. She knew just the place. "Please, follow, Tel. I'll show you to your room." This was usually more the work of a servant, but she wanted to make him feel at home as much as possible. After the performance, she would dig into his life a little further. For now, she gestured for him to stand, and then strode around the table and gently led him by the elbow out of the room. His suitcase was ordered to be in his room before the Madam arrived there. Satisfied, she guided him out of the room, and across the vast foyer. They traversed a few sets of stairs, and he was eventually led into a corridor with doors every thirty feet or so between them. She bypassed a few of them, and finally stopped at one. The number '341' was engraved on the door under a peephole, and she opened the door to reveal a large bedroom. It was complete with a queen-sized bed, black satin sheets, a deep red comforter, and three fluffy pillows. The bed was set into a four-poster made of cherry wood, along with a backboard and a small linens cabinet build into the foot of the bed. There was a nightstand next to the bed, also cherrywood; the other furniture in the room consisted of a love seat, a vanity and dresser, a closet, and a built-in bathroom.
"I hope this is accommodating enough for you," she offered, though she knew it surely was; these rooms were truly too vast for just one person, but extravagance was the Madam's style. Besides, she'd never received a complaint about someone's room being too fancy or too big, so she didn't change a thing. "I'll have one of my Companions fetch you when you're ready to bring you to the Globe." She then stepped into the room and gestured to an intercom system build into the wall near the door. There was a speaker hole and a keypad under it. "Just dial six nine six, speak into here, and one of my Companions will fetch you. I'll have music accompaniment provided for you when you arrive. Please, take your time. I'll leave you to it, then!" she finished. She gave his shoulder a gentle pat, and then closed the door behind her to leave Tel to his own devices. What she had really done was give Tel the number to Othello's headset, so when he was done, it would transmit to Othello's earpiece and he would be the one to fetch Tel. She felt a modicum of regret that she couldn't finagle his talents into this demonstration, but wanted him to be included somehow.
Then the fun part began.
Quickly (too rushed for a lady, but she was excited), the Madam made her way back to the room that she left Mister Green in for far too long. She hoped he wasn't offended, and that he still wanted to become part of Guilty Pleasures. It was a quick journey, what with a few shortcuts, and she opened the door after composing herself somewhat. She found him wandering around the room, gazing at the fanciful things that decorated the girly space. "Mister Green," she greeted with a bow. "I apologize for the inconvenience. However, I have something to show you. Two of my Companions will be performing, and I'd like you watch them. You won't regret it, I assure you. Please," she started, gesturing for him to follow her again. She would be taking him to the Globe, their personal theater. The Madam liked watching plays and opera and such things, so she had a theater built some years ago. It turned out to be the perfect place for Sonnen to perform his music and singing as well, so it had all worked out, even if it was a bit expensive.
However, the Globe was in another building entirely. However, all the buildings that made up Guilty Pleasures were connected by glass-walled corridors, which she was sure Mister Green would appreciate. The hallway terminated at a door, made of dark wood and gold accents, which opened into a large, high-ceilinged room with a gold and ebony theme. The thrust stage was worth bragging about, and there were plenty of seats in the house to seat hundreds. Of course the theater was rarely filled with more than about thirty people, but she liked the extravagance of it all. Down-right on the stage was a grande piano with a microphone mount, perfect for a musical performance. Yes, this was the perfect avenue. She led still Mister Green down to the front row of seats, and sat down next to him. All other things would be taken care of by her staff, she was assured. But then her headset went off again.
"Madam," a servant's voice sounded, "Mister Solera has arrived. What would you like to be done?"
Oh, perfect! Excitedly, she released the microphone on her headset and replied, "Escort him to the Globe. Tell him I've a performance I'd like him to see. Pip pip!" Oh, this was just grand! Not only would Mister Green get to watch her Companions, but so would Mister Solera. She suddenly felt a pang in her stomach about Othello, once again remembering that he wouldn't be performing on stage today. He was important, too, and should be shown off just as Sonnen and Tel would be. She'd work something out after the performance. Yes, she'd think of something. Assuaged by these conclusions, she found herself more capable of relaxing. Oh, right, she needed to tell Sonnen he was performing! Into the headset, she spoke again: "Sonnen." The communicating system in the headsets allowed for voice recognition; however, the headsets were also accessible by the intercom system, should someone (like Tel) not have a headset yet. Tel, of course, would be provided with one eventually. A soft beep sounded in the earpiece, indicating that it had located Sonnen's communicator. "Sonnen, darling, head to the Globe. Don't forget that lovely singing voice of yours."
Finally, she retracted the microphone in her headset and turned her attention once again to Mister Green. "I'm so sorry for all the hustle and bustle. You've caught me on a busy day!" She giggled. "Tell me, how is your business doing? Still finding adequate reserves and such?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 5:16 pm
lauren Malone ††Emerald††
Lauren turned, nodding as Madame Usagi entered and apologized, then told him of the performance. He waved a hand at the apology, smiling a little. "No apologies necessary. I would rather enjoy seeing a performance, thank you for the invitation." He assured her as they walked to the Globe, he himself rather impressed by the glass hallways. As they reached the Globe, he was again impressed by the sheer size of the building, following her down to the front row ad sitting down, his back straight and his head level as he had always been taught.
He heard Madame Usagi again speaking into her headset. Apparently they would be having more company to watch this performance. After seeing what he had seen so far of Guilty Pleasures, he found that he was anticipating the performance. next, he heard her talking to someone called Sonnen, obviously one of the performing companions he would see today. Again, he waved off the apology. at the question, he couldn't help but smile again. "It's doing very well, thank you for asking. By now, my team is starting to think that I'm using some sort of trickery to find the reserves." Honestly the idea was a little entertaining to him.
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 9:36 pm
~Lorentz | Лоренц. Absorbed in his own thoughts, Walenty didn't pay much attention at all to the outside scenery. Not once did he ever care enough for nature. The way it tended to change suddenly. Weather and its wild swings. Untamed animals gave the boy a fright as they all risked having some sort of disease or only God knows what else. Domestic pets? Fine. Make sure they've had their shots or the slightest interest of being within a mile radius of it wouldn't even so much as flit across the blonde's mind. He could recall almost every pet the family had owned since he was just a lad. Of course, none of them were bought by his choice. Oh, no. But, let's see. There were about thirteen dogs, twenty-or-so curious cats, disgusting snakes, filthy mice, talkative birds, several upon several fish, hamsters, ducks, and even a tiger. Good God. The child had nearly freaked when he came across that one in the house. And there was this one swan that his mum had taken a liking to..
The white leather of the limo's interior seating was suddenly abused by an abrupt clenching of the boy's pale hand. Even though he hated animals, he could never forgive himself for what had happened at that time.
Crinkled eyes and a weathered face turned to his direction. Adalric's concern was displayed so plainly on his face that Walenty would have slapped it off had he been cruel enough. However, he never dared to touch any of his servants. Hell, he couldn't even bear calling them his 'servants.' The word, let alone the idea, seemed foul in his mind. These people were usually the only ones around when the boy needed some sort of conversation to keep himself sane. They would be there to listen to what their 'master' would have to say and almost always had understanding replies and answers. Friends were something he could never attain in the outside world. It was just hard to trust a complete stranger. But, these men and women had been with Walenty his whole life. It was a whole new story with them.
Earthy green eyes looked upon the old man from behind golden glasses, giving one of Walenty's most renownded gazes. "Don't ask," was all that it implied. A simple nod was all that the younger one received. He was suddenly very grateful for having the wise man with him. Trust and understanding might be shared among them all, but being able to calm some nerves around them was so very different. That simple gesture from his most treasured antique quelled any thoughts about his past.
The vehicle began to crawl to halt. Had he not been so deeply thinking before, then he just might have realized that they had reached the mansion's driveway. A quick peek outside the front windshield showed him that they had parked some feet behind a limo almost like his own. A vehicle was a vehicle to him. They got people from point A to point B and that was all he cared about them for. Never bothered for details. For all he knew, every limo in the world could look alike. Therefore, he payed it no mind and proceeded to step outside while Adalric faithfully followed behind him.
Clean white Chucks scuffed across the white pebbles that were stretched to the front door. Oh, Lord, please don't let them get dirt marks. He yanked his grey wool scarf up to his nose to protect against the sudden gust of wind that blew past and shoved slender fingers into the deep pockets of his blue jeans. Never had been a fan of cold weather. Winter marked the arrival of the flu season. Flu. Sick. Germs. But, there was the hot chocolate! Ah, sweet relief. Sure, coffee was a nice refreshment, but the hot chocolate would be more welcomed any time of the year.
As he and the butler approached the grand door to the elaborate mansion, he took notice of a small group of three already in waiting. Were they Clients who were yet to be welcomed? Well. Hell if he should know. He didn't work there. While the two of them drew nearer, an old habit began to form with him. He studied them. Studied their clothes, their hair, the way they stood in waitin- wait.
Why, hello there. If it wasn't a familiar somebody.
He could never forget the way that floppy blonde mess was cut. Like a mop sitting on top of a lanky boy. But, what the hell. Him? Here? And why? Same reason? Thoughts, thoughts, ideas. Nonetheless, the younger of the two called out to the other, too excited to even wait to get to the porch to speak.
"Co ty tu robisz?! Dimitri!" What are you doing here?!.В. Киева | W. Kieva~
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Posted: Tue Sep 01, 2009 12:29 am
SoleraThe beautiful crisp day lifted his grouchy spirits. It was just the right temperature. Not too cold, not too warm. Absolutely perfect, especially with the man's poor blood circulation. Still, he hugged his form fitting black overcoat closer to his body as he walked along. The navy dress shirt he'd worn underneath was a little too thin for such weather, and he hadn't thought of bringing along a spare scarf. Something crimson would have been a good choice, or maybe a cream one.
Either way, it wouldn't matter much since they were already here. Here on the front steps of Madam Usagi's grande mansion. Good, long lasting material was used in construction of this domocile, Dimitri noted appreciatively. Everything from these very steps, to the great door, the glossy windows, and even the little flowers and shrubs were top grade. He wandered a little to the side, over a barrier of dark glistening stones, to investigate a variety of orange blossoms growing near a short hedge. They appeared to be tiny chrysanthemums. Though each flower only about the size of his thumbnail, they still exuded such a pleasant fragrance. He tenderly brushed the soft buds with gentle fingertips wondering if he could get something similar for his own garden.
While their 'master,' was so busy playing with orange flowerets, Gervas had taken it upon himself to boldly ring the dainty pearl doorbell. Unfortunately for him, his gloved hand was immediately smacked into submission before he could press down on the lovely surface. "Gervas," an all too cheerful voice sounded from behind. "How many times have I told you to never decide anything without my permission?" The servant gave the blonde a cool stare, then smoothly pointed at the man who had been so immersed in what appeared to be a romantic graphic novel. "Why, he's the one who suggested it." It was a sound excuse, though not entirely false, it wasn't the truth either. At this, Dimitri redirected his annoyance at the innocent Teddy. The brunette showed no hint of having heard a thing, nor even feeling the slow burning glare of his employer.
With a small huff the youth stepped up to the taller and older man with a murderer's aura. Upon inspection the driver's brown eyes only reflected what he was so glued to. Curious, but still rather deadly, Dimitri tipped the edge of book towards himself to see what was so interesting. Golden eyes widened in surprise at the contents. There, clearly drawn out in heavy ink, were two men locked in a passionate and rather sticky embrace. As very rarely as he saw that type of thing, it wasn't anything new. What was new was how they both had their movements restricted in one way or another. Just from that one glance, the image of kinky binding detailed, all too detailed, love was emblazened in his mind. As much as his eyes twitched, the boy couldn't kick the picture from his brains. "Aw, for ******** sake just ring the damned doorbell!"
Merry chimes were soon heard throughout the house. And still, Teddy made no move indicating he had heard a thing. Instead of reprimanding his new chaffeur, he tipped the book back into place and took a big step away. From the corners of his eyes, he spied the butler trying to surpress a bubbling smile. Just as a snarky response was about to leap from his tight lips, someone called out to him. In Polish. In a chirpy voice. In Polish. The blonde felt a vain bulge above his raised brow. ...In Polish.
"Ah, Walenty!" The older brother held his arms out wide open only to fold them across his chest, then turn to the side to look down on the young Walenty. He wasn't sure what to think of this. "What are you doing here?" he countered unorginally. Then as if changing his mind, his hands were stuffed into the big pockets of his black overcoat. "I'm here to visit a friend. One whom I've yet to meet, but hopefully still a friend in the end." It didn't make much sense, he knew. The answer hadn't been intended to make sense. What Walenty thought of it was just that. Was it odd that he was more surprised to see his driver avidly studying bondage, than to see his younger brother at such a private place? Nah, not really.
Suddenly, the huge door opened without so much as a sound. "Ahem. If I may interrupt?" An agreeable looking fellow of small stature spoke up. "The Madam has instructed me to escort Mr. Solera and company to the Globe. The Globe is where the Madam is at the moment, and where our Companions are to show off their talents to our guests." Then he caught sight of Walenty. "Excuse me for a moment." The perky man turned away to whisper to Madam Usagi of Mr. Lorentz's arrival. With a small hospitable bow, he turned on his heel to usher them inside. "Boy, it's beginning to get rather chilly isn't it?" he cheerfully commented as they walked past. "Soon it'll be winter and there will be a ton of snow to shovel..."
Dimitri did as instructed without protest or some quirky comment. Seldom it was that he could take such a liking to another human being so quickly. He liked the doorman so much, he even declined to ask or demand for his name. With his mood in better conditions once more, he obediantly followed as the help made small talk. Well, everyone except mister reading yaoi in public places there. Sooner or later, he'd have to engineer some sort of game for that obsession.
After passing through a wonderfully kept abode and pristine glass corriders, they soon arrived at the Globe. Thoughout the entire time he had not said an extra word to his dear little brother. Afterall, he hadn't exactly come here with the intention of speaking to him. So his mind had been set on not fabricating any lies unless he felt necessary. Even if he did do it so often, that it became unnatural for the man not to lie to his brother.
The escort had disappeared with another polite bow and gushing with breezy cheerfulness. Dimitri smiled to himself, hoping to never seeing much of that man. Without a word on the extravagant and elegant atmosphere, the seemingly peaceful blonde stood in the aisle looking at something far more important. Or preferably someone. The petite and delicate looking woman who could only possibly be Madam Usagi. She had an air about her that had the same quality as her butler's breezy cheerfulness, yet far more refined and almost cozy. She actually reminded him of his own mother on some level. This revelation would have disturbed him if it weren't for the fact that he saw her as first and foremost, a business partner. D. A. Kieva
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Posted: Tue Sep 01, 2009 2:20 pm
**Theodore**Tel** Tel noted the madam's pleased expression, but cautioned himself that he did not know her well enough to be able to differentiate her polite expressions from her sincere ones. Not that she in any way gave off a dishonest air, but the nature of her business required an easy smile. With a nod he followed her through the expansive mansion until they finally reached a door marked '341.' Tel's eyes took in the large bedroom and sitting space in a few glances. Of course it was far more luxurious than anything he had ever encountered before, much less had the possibility of living in. This fact did not cause him to reflect poorly on his own modest upbringing however. His parents were good people and the life they had provided for him had been a happy one. Thinking of his now deceased parents even briefly made Tel sad, but the thoughts were quickly banished when the madam began to explain to him about the intercom. He stored the code to his memory by repeating it silently three times as was his method. "Thank you Madam, you have been more than generous," Tel said appreciatively before she disappeared and left him alone in the large room.
Tel walked over to the bed and saw that his suitcase was already lying in wait on it. Though the madam had said to "take your time," Tel did not want to keep her and any guests waiting. He quickly unzipped the battered luggage and flipped the top open. Stripping down he carefully folded and laid his clothes on the lid of the suitcase so they wouldn't disturb the beautiful room and bed. His eyes glanced once again to the large dresser with the hope that he would soon be stowing his clothes away in it. He refrained to do so right away because he did not want to take this opportunity for granted. Though Tel was confident in his own skills, he would never assume that the madam would keep him on. There was no accounting for taste after all.
Standing there naked at the foot of, dare he think"his", bed, Tel considered his various dance leotards. The black and red sheets on the four poster put him in a mind for a flare of the dramatic, besides, he did want to make an impression here. He lifted and slipped on a pale grey leotard that was emblazoned with twisting bands of dark red dye reminiscent of flames. Lifting a small toiletries pouch out of the suitcase Tel went into the bathroom. It was a pristine white room with gold accents. The antique claw footed tub was half hidden behind a heavy gold drapery. The madam certainly had a sense of style and it permeated every place she touched. To match his leotard Tel applied his red contacts, blinking a few times until they settled in properly. Next he used a small amount of gel to slick back his thin but shaggy hair. Growing up he had kept it cropped short as was fitting a performer who couldn't have his vision obstructed, but since working at the strip clubs he had let it grow out some. The gel would do for now. He examined himself briefly in the mirror. The thin leotard hid nothing, but he was in very good shape. Though small and thin, his muscles were still defined nicely, not that anyone would ever describe him as "muscular."
Tel walked barefoot out into the main room once again (he always performed barefoot) and opened his backpack. He pulled out a small black velvet roll of cloth. He untied it and rolled it open to reveal a set of six silver throwing knives, each with a small red tassel. He gave each a quick once over to check for damage and polish before rolling the velvet pouch up once more. Satisfied, Tel moved to the intercom to call for an escort to... the Globe? A reference to his own Shakespeare's theater? If that was the case he couldn't very well be sticking his knives into the walls. Well, he could always ask for an appropriate target. With that thought Tel resolutely pressed "six nine six" and spoke into the intercom, "Hello, I'm to be escorted to the Globe by someone, and if it is possible, could there be some sort of object on a sturdy stand, something like a book in size and density, waiting there? Something that no one would mind being damaged?"
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