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 Posted: Sat Dec 26, 2009 10:12 pm
His reflection looked older than he remembered; it was the bags under the eyes, Sebastien decided, gently moving the soft cloth over the blade, marring the image of his face that was reflected in it. It hadn't been that long; he supposed it was just the added stress of trying to save the world. He hummed lightly as he worked at polishing the thin metal. An old French song that he remembered from the Loire. Marguerite had loved the lilting melody; he hadn't minded Marguerite as much as his brothers; she was nice enough, and that was all that mattered to him.
The Himalayas were about as different from the Loire Valley as anything could be, he thought. But he found he enjoyed it, even the solitude that permeated the white marble walls of the LOTUS building. And when he tired of that (which he often did; he was altogether too social for his taste and sometimes wished he were more like Wraith), there were always the other recruits. Wraith was busy; Sebastien had already attempted to cure his boredom in that manner and had been rewarded with a book very accurately aimed at the head for it. He was reminded of that duel he'd had with the British man-- Archer. Sebastien smiled reflexively. He'd liked the man.
The rapier was forgotten as the French man bounded down the long corridor and stopped in front of the room he knew belonged to Archer. He rapped at the door and stood waiting, expectantly.
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Posted: Sat Dec 26, 2009 10:52 pm
Solitude was one thing that Archer Wells was used to.
Archer Wells and solitude were Best Friends Forever. Archer Wells had always been alone since the day he woke up in a field with no memory of who he was, and no matter where he was, be it a crowded London street, or the elegant headquarters of LOTUS, he was always just a degree more alone than he should have been. He had no past to keep him company, no whispery memories of sisters and brothers to occupy his mind. His past started in a field and the only things he knew about himself were that his name was Archer Wells and he was English.
Thus, being English consumed him. As Sebastien made his way to Archer's door, Archer was absorbed in Low Tea, a ritual that all the books assured him was quintessentially English. The Englishness of Low Tea could not be denied, and thus, without fail, Archer performed Low Tea at 4 PM sharp every day.
He was setting his cloth napkin in his lap when the knock came at the door. Archer was not a man to refuse company, but nor was he a man who often got his door knocked upon. The last time it had occurred, he had nearly been forced to occupy the same bedroom with a woman, so he opened the door, but with some trepidation.
"Good evening. May I be of some-"
He paused. It was always disconcerting to open one's door and find a Frenchi- Frenchman on the other side.
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Posted: Sat Dec 26, 2009 11:19 pm
"Hello," Sebastien started pleasantly. "I was wondering if you would like company. I--" He paused, and decided to omit mentioning that he was bored and was going to force Archer (pleasantly, of course) to accept his offer whether Archer liked it or not. Sebastien recalled that Archer was Very Proper, and as such would likely be offended.
Catching a sweet scent, Sebastien sniffed the air around the British man. "Something smells..." He didn't quite know what it smelled like, other than Wraith on the odd day. He couldn't imagine any sort of food that both Wraith and the more mild-mannered British man would both enjoy. "Interesting. I cannot place it."
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Posted: Sat Dec 26, 2009 11:50 pm
"Low Tea." said Archer by way of explanation. "Simple fare, I'm afraid, Prince of Wales blend, cucumber sandwiches, strawberries, and clotted cream. If I knew you were coming, I would have made something more elaborate, but do come in."
A pause, but even if Sebastien was French, he was a superior, and Archer added "Sir," despite himself.
He pulled another teacup from a cabinet before Sebastien could even reply and set another place at the small, round side table. If another person came in, Archer presumably could not refuse them, but it would certainly be crowded.
"Company is appreciated." said Archer awkwardly, pointedly not saying who exactly appreciated it. It was polite to say that he desired Sebastien's company. He didn't. Archer and solitude were used to each other. Archer and Sebastien were not, and Archer was nothing if not a creature of habit. (Not to mention that Sebastien was French.) However, it was also impolite to lie to a superior. Archer settled for being vague.
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Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2009 12:03 pm
"Low... tea," Sebastien repeated slowly. "What is tea?"
His face brightened at the mention of strawberries. "Oh! I do enjoy strawberries." Sebastien settled himself at the place Archer had set for him, and looked over the offerings. This was new, and he didn't quite know what to do, and so he settled for taking a large bit out of a particularly succulent-seeming strawberry as he waited for Archer to explain.
"I am glad someone is feeling sociable today."
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Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2009 8:38 pm
Archer paused, looking over the second teacup mid-pour.
It was like Sebastien had asked what that funny in and out motion his chest made was, and why he felt dizzy when he stopped it.
"Tea," replied Archer, "Is a beverage that we British have recently imported from the colonies, it's become quite popular. It's made by steeping leaves in hot water and it's a delightful beverage. It quite improves the temper and the faculties."
He set the extra cup down on a saucer and gestured at it for Sebastien. "The strawberries are excellent. Do try some cream as well." He then sat down himself, nodding at Sebastien's equally enigmatical reply and said "To what do I owe this unexpected honour? Is this a business matter or purely social?" He stirred his tea as he spoke, but to what end was unclear- There didn't appear to be cream or sugar in it.
His fencing foil was not in sight.
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Posted: Tue Jan 05, 2010 10:52 am
"Ah." Sebastien did not recall tea; he thought perhaps it was something he had forgotten. Although Archer had said it was recently imported... and Sebastien would have placed Archer as a more modern man than himself.
"It sounds like a wonderful thing." When Archer gestured at the cup, Sebastien took it without hesitation, and put his mouth to the lip of the cup, upon which he found himself feeling the entirely new (or so he postured) sensation of 'tea'. He set the cup down again gently on its saucer and thought about tea. "Tea is... nice, Archer." Sebastien still preferred wine, but even he had to admit that wine was not the best beverage for breakfast.
He complied with Archer's request and took another strawberry, this time with accompanying cream. "Purely social, Monsieur Wells." The strawberries were excellent; where in the world had Archer gotten them? "I was thinking about our duel, and I realized I do not know much of you beyond the point of your sword. This should be remedied, should it not?"
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