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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Feb 18, 2008 0:27:38 GMT -5
Angel nodded his head in when she introduced herself. He was about to thank her for informing him of the manager’s absence and take his leave when she continued. So she was going to bring it up? At least she was defending herself rather asking to keep this secret, which he would anyways. While she explained herself he twirled the cane faster between his fingers in an uncomfortable habit.
However her explanation seemed plausible enough, and she had the book as evidence. People didn’t lie to “The Earl of Poison” so he hadn’t thought whether it sounded false or not. Mademoiselle de Montant seemed like an honest woman so far, and now that he though about it sounded like something the eldest Leroux would offer to pretty girl, he was a sort of lecher.
“Thoughtful of him. I myself can’t even read a word unless it’s quiet, so I understand. Don’t worry I believe you.”
Angel said with a genuine smile. He was telling the truth, even though there was still a very small amount of suspison in his mind that would probably go away in a little while. When she offered the chair she shook his head. Walking over to a empty space on the wall he leaned against it.
“You should continue using it, I’m perfectly fine with standing up. If you don’t mind me to continue interrupting your reading , may I ask what the book is?”
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Post by Kathleen de Montant on Feb 18, 2008 11:58:15 GMT -5
Kathleen smiled gratefully. She also felt relieved, though she still sensed that there was a small part of him that didn't quite believe her explanation.
She walked over to where he was leaning against the wall and held out the book to him, "Just a collection of short stories by Edgar Allen Poe, the American. They're really great reading."
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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Feb 18, 2008 23:18:06 GMT -5
Taking the book in his hand he flipped through the pages. He had read a few of the mans stories and poems before. Though he preferred other type of books, Poe had to be one of his favorite poets. Angel nodded in agreement with her without lifting his eyes from the book.
“Yes he is a fine writer, though very morbid. However I suppose that if he was like all the others I wouldn’t be interested his works.”
After reading a paragraph or two of "The Premature Burial" he handed the book back to Kathleen with a smirk. Not many woman he knew of ever read something so dark. He knew his sister and her friends chatted on and on of Emily thingyinson and Louisa May Alcott, but mention Poe or even Nathaniel Hawthorne and their noses turn up.
“I believe my favorite are ”The Tell-Tale Heart” and "The Fall of the House of Usher". Yours?”
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Post by Kathleen de Montant on Feb 18, 2008 23:49:55 GMT -5
Kathleen was glad to have found someone interested in the stories she also enjoyed. Another reason she had sought a place of solitude for reading was the raised brows and smirks she got when she read the dark stuff. They didn't bother her very much, but still, it was hard to concentrate when such remarks were made in her direction.
"Those were excellent," she agreed, "but I also enjoyed The Black Cat." She mock shivered, "made me afraid of any cats for a week." She laughed.
Kathleen examined Angel. Even with his feminine sounding name, he definitely was the opposite. He was quite handsome, she decided. Not that he would be very interested in a mere ballet girl. But he seemed rather distant, cold, she couldn't quite place his demeanor. But he seemed interesting, different than most of the people she normally spoke to about the Opera house.
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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Feb 26, 2008 22:54:54 GMT -5
Angel couldn’t help but wonder why a young woman would be interested in such ‘depressing’ literature. Not that he thought it badly of her. He knew people had different interests; he should know that well, but the only girls he saw read Poe were melancholy or just plain strange. However Mademoiselle Kathleen seemed to be neither. Maybe there was more difference in girl of high and middle class more then wealth. Whatever the reason she liked them, rather then finding it odd he found it intriguing.
At her joke Angel chuckled in his low voice. He had to agree with her with the affect that Poe could have on people with his writing style. At ten the first story he had read by the tormented man had given him chills for the rest of the day.
“I full heartedly believe that he could make me afraid of a blade of grass if he had written about one.”
He replied with a smirk. When Kathleen’s eyes did the usual inspection of a new person Angel took the opportunity to do the same. A beauty just out of her teen years. Her blue eyes gave a alluring contrast to her midnight hair. And her form? Obviously a dancers body.
Angel’s smirk grew a little wider but kept the philander gleam from his eyes. He was an admirer not a lecher. She was probably when of the more attractive girls here with a head on her shoulders. Bringing his dark brown eyes to meet her ocean ones.
Are you a dancer?
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Post by Kathleen de Montant on Mar 3, 2008 16:51:10 GMT -5
Kathleen smiled when he mentioned the blade of grass. She laughed at little as she gazed in his chocolate eyes for a moment concluding her assessment of him. Here was an interesting man. Unlike any she had ever met before. One she would enjoy getting to know as time passed. Most men she had met within the opera house she tended to steer clear from. She never allowed herself to be alone in the same room with them under any circumstances. One had to be careful in the Opera Populaire.
Angel however, seemed different somehow; he obviously appreciated and reveled in female beauty and yet seemed to employ a good deal of self control. All the men she had known would have at least hinted by this time or maybe even propositioned her. Still, she would be wary. Eyeing the door, she concluded she would make a break for it if need be. Hearing his question her eyes shot from the door to his face, “Oui, Monsieur. Most of my life has been devoted to dance.” As he examined her in turn, his smirk as his eyes meandered across her body made her know that he appreciated what he saw. She dipped her head a little to hide the blush from her cheeks and for the first time noticed the intricacy of his cane. A gryphon’s head? She wondered at it. Never had she seen such an unusual walking staff.
“Your cane, it is very unusual.” She glanced back up at his eyes, still seeing traces of the smirk, but relieved that it was for the most part dissipated.
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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Mar 4, 2008 21:20:33 GMT -5
It was true that he didn’t make an attempt to hide the fact he was inspecting her, or that he indeed appreciated her looks. If a woman was beautiful he thought it was rude not to let them know. And he knew she knew what he thought because her eyed wandered toward the door handle. Angel hadn’t meant to seem like he was on the prowl or anything, and didn’t make a single move or suggestive look to prove that he wasn’t.
Then he realized why she might be weary of him. One of the things he was hoping to correct here was the cat calling from the catwalks. The stagehands were not to his liking. In his short time here he had seen how they affected the dancers and chorus with their lewd behavior. It was no wonder that she’d be a little on edge under his regarding eye, he wouldn’t want his sister or cousins to be around those men. However he needed to make sure that she knew that he would be no harm and he let his pleased smirk fall to his polite smile.
With wanting to be accepted by his mentally over the edge ‘mother’ and being protective of his little sister, he was respectful to women. Though some might call him a shameless flirt at time he had never touched a girl without it being in greeting or having their consent first.
“How do you devote most of your life to something so strict and rigorous? I wouldn’t be able to, but I suppose that would make me a spoiled brat.”
He said smiling trying to get her to lift her head up. Though he found it quit cute that she was embarrassed he would rather be looking at her blushing face then the top of her head. When her head did come up she was able to almost seamlessly change the subject. Angel gave a curious smirk before lifting the cane up to eye level.
“Really? Maybe different, but very unusual?”
He asked with an inquisitive quirk. The black polished cane was probably more unusual then she thought. Not only was the silver animal head different from the norm, but also the fact that it screwed off was a small secret among men. And that it didn’t hold a hidden dagger but a clear liquid was even stranger.
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Post by Kathleen de Montant on Mar 6, 2008 14:20:47 GMT -5
Kathleen forced herself to relax. If Angel was the sort of man to prey on women like many of the stage hands, he had already had plenty of opportunity. He had seen her glance to the door, she was sure of it. When the pleased smirk fell from his eyes it helped her calm her nerves. A lewd man would not have just done that.
Still, it wasn’t that she avoided physical contact with men in general. But her idea of a relationship was quite the opposite from most of the men here. Therefore she stayed away from them as much as possible. There had been many a dancer who had suddenly disappeared from the Populaire shortly after meeting The One.
She wanted a relationship, and even though they had just barely met, Kathleen felt she wanted to get to know Angle better. And perhaps someday…but who could claim to know what the future held?
“I suppose I enjoy it so much. I never seemed to be like. It gets tiring sometimes of course, but is my passion. A spoiled brat? Never Monsieur. You were simply born to undertake different pursuits.”
She peered at the unique cane head. Reaching her right hand up, she have a questioning look to him before lightly stroking its lion head. “Not so unusual perhaps.” She said thoughtfully, “But never before have I seen anything like it.” She stood on her toes so that she too was eye-level with it and gazed closer. Just beneath the base of the gryphon, Kathleen could discern a small crack. “That crack,” she looked up at him. “Does it open?”
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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Mar 14, 2008 22:22:19 GMT -5
A smile crept to his lips when she started to relax, not the one like before, but sort of a relieved one. Having the opposite gender feel uncomfortable around him was something he truly didn’t like. It seemed here though he wouldn’t be able to help that. He was used to getting odd looks from people finding out his hobby but here it seems that they didn’t even need to know that to be uneasy around him. For example he had no idea what he had done to Mademoiselle Giry for her not to like him. It was quit obvious sometimes that he was out of his element.
Still that wasn’t going to make the Opera house a fleeting interest for him. Though he was known for a few things, but not for backing out when there was a trifle in the way. And one of those was his flattering nature; he thought it was a more sophisticated wooing then the stagehands or maybe it looked all the same to them. Anyways, it was possible that he should hold back till he was better acquainted with them before giving them a coy smile. Not that he would mind playing the game of getting-to-know-you. He thought smiling at Kathleen.
“Well of coarse it can be trying, but I think what makes something a passion is when you love it and do it so much that when the excitement seems to fade only a hint of something new can throw you full throttle back into it, possible for a loner time then before.”
Not often did he experience that thrill of after going from blandness to excitement with his hobby because there was always something new to discover from reading or experimenting.
“Ah, but you’ll see that I am if you get to know me. Fair warning.”
Angel rose an eyebrow and gave a sly but joking smile. He leaned the cane closer to her when she reached out her hand to pet the detailed silver engraved head. All the while he looked at her examining his cane that he really didn’t need to help him walk, it just gave him an intriguing look and it was better to contain his vile in one then in a pocket. His smile though faded to one of the border between surprised and false. Quickly he lowered the cane down and told a little white lie.
“Yes, it does, but there’s nothing in it at the moment.”
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Post by Kathleen de Montant on Mar 24, 2008 20:00:44 GMT -5
Kathleen went down from her pointed toes and onto her the flats of her feet, though she still kept them pointed outward. But that was simply habit. After dancing for so many years, many had formed. For example, she was now standing with toes pointed outward, and her hands just below her waist, wrists curved towards each other and her fingertips just barely touching. Her expression was serene and expectant. All together she looked like she was about to perform. All previous fears were for the most part dissipated and she was completely at ease.
She nodded in agreement, arms dropping to her sides. “Exactly, monsieur. Without those feelings I doubt my career would have survived so long.” She smiled coyly. “You having said that, one must assume you must have a passion of your own.” Rather shyly she asked, “May I ask what it is?” Let the game begin.
She said nothing in reply to his warning. How was one to respond? “I look forward to seeing your faults for myself?” It simply wouldn’t do. A fine lady perhaps may have breezed right through, with a brilliant reply. But Kathleen wasn’t one, though she liked to think herself for genteel and aristocratic than some of the other girls. Not that she flaunted it; a private thought and nothing more. Spoiled brat or not, Kathleen did not mind.
As she examined the exquisite cane, she felt Angel’s eyes not on the cane, but on herself. True she wondered at this, maybe even hoped a little, but she kept her eyes fixed firmly on the silver head. Because of this, she missed his smile turn false. She only heard his voice say, “Yes, it does, but there’s nothing in it at the moment.”
She of course believed him; why shouldn’t she? A drop of doubt tugged lightly on her mind but she easily ignored it.
Glancing up at his face through her lashes, she asked innocently, “What might one put in it?” She had heard of weapons being hidden in canes, but that was the extent of her knowledge. Surely other items could be placed inside.
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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Apr 23, 2008 19:39:06 GMT -5
“Of coarse I do. I like to think that everyone does…even it it’s a passion just to sit around in a foul mood.”
Angel said jokingly and smirked at Mademoiselle de Montant’s coy smile. An attempt at flirting? Whether it was or not he figured he’d be able to be a little more…friendly. Which he planned on doing as soon as she started to warm up to him more, but since she just became eased a few moments ago he might do what he’s known best for more slowly then he would with other women. The ability on when to press forward and hold back was something her prided himself of.
“My passion? Well I guess you could say…experimenting. I’m sort of an amateur chemist you could say.”
The most innocent smile Angel could form spread on his lips. He would have told what it really was; he wasn’t ashamed. It just seemed that people at the Opera House hadn’t heard of his little nickname around the streets. Odd really, but he wasn’t going to flaunt what his passion was around here like he did in the higher society. Angel didn’t want to frighten her more about him so he decided to keep the answer vague.
That innocent smile had stayed on his face when Kathleen seemed to rack her brain as she stared at the cane. She looked befuddled. Was it something he had said? If it was then he didn’t mind because he didn’t say anything offended. It just meant she couldn’t come up with an answer to his warning. He wasn’t expecting an answer to it, maybe a giggle, but the fact that she instead kept her eyes was something that made him smirk. So his flirting began.
However that didn’t last long. Taking his brown eyes off her he looked at his special cane. Placing a hand on his chin as if thinking he shrugged his shoulders.
“Anything that can fit. Nice things like an extra handkerchief or jewelry. Or of coarse the usual weapon.”
Angel ran his free hand through his still mused hair as he quickly changed the false smile to a small real one. He was hoping that she wouldn’t ask for him to unscrew it. He hadn’t quite mastered the arts of secretly slipping the bottle of liquid into a coat pocket.
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Post by Kathleen de Montant on Jul 21, 2008 23:02:43 GMT -5
Kathleen chuckled a bit at his joke, “I’ve known many people whose passion is just that. Sitting around and sulking about their lot in life.”
At Angel’s smirk, Kathleen noted that her message had been sent and received. Her first inclination was to smirk in reply, maybe even wink. But she held herself back; she was a lady after all. Of sorts anyway.
“A chemist?” She murmured, “That’s fascinating. What sort of concoctions to you create?” Despite his vague answers to her “just making friendly conversation” questions, Kathleen felt that there was something he wasn’t telling her about his hobby. But respecting privacy was something everyone learned in the Populaire and therefore she didn’t press it.
In order to not press it, she changed the subject completely. “So,” she began; taking all of her attention off the cane. “What interested you in the Populaire?”
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