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Post by spender on Jun 20, 2010 21:58:53 GMT -5
"You're Priscilla Steep? I'm sorry I was expecting..."
Steep snorted.
"A pleasure to meet you Princess. I am Captain Ladorak Fugate. This is my...Molly Serra. She's a long time friend you might say. And this here is Captain James Saumarez, of HMS Crescent."
"How do you do."
"Terrible," Steep replied, without a hint of tact. She gave them a nod while she lit her cigar. The Molly Serra curtsied. Steep snorted again. What kind of job description was that? Poor jill. (Molly, for her part, looked like she might try to punch Captain Fugate in the ribs in the near future. That was a pained smile if she ever saw one.)
"Why not show us around a bit, and then we can start making preparations for our dinner yes?"
"I guess," Steep said. "Follow me. Just you three? Ehhn." She rubbed at his scab, scowling. The bloody city! Why was it so bright? "What've you got in mind to see?"
She narrowed her eyes and peered at the spires and rooftops. So she was to act as a miserable little tour guide for these foreign sops? Fine. But she didn't have to be their entertainment. The only interesting place she could think of was a tavern. And then another tavern. And then a third one.
"Where's your Molly Serra?" Steep asked, jabbing her cigar at Saumarez as they began walking. "I hear everyone in Welkin has got one these days."
"Har, har," Molly grumbled under her breath. She nipped at Ladorak's ear playfully - with a vengeance.
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Post by Ladorak on Jun 20, 2010 23:44:00 GMT -5
Ladorak realized that perhaps introducing her as "his Molly" wasn't the best but...what else was he supposed to call her? She WAS his Molly after all...right? He wasn't courting her was he? And not engaged...at least not yet...
"How about the Arsenal?" he asked, mostly to appease Molly. "I'd also like the chance to speak with some fellow Captains, though I'm sure they'll be present at the dinner. Also would like to do some shopping later on as well." the stoat added. Perfect...they could shop, and he could leave Saumarez with Steep...not that that would likely do any good at this rate, but still...
They were walking along now, and Molly decided to nip at his ear. He cringed, and knew she was half playing, and half warning him. Alright...he'd definitely buy that ring today if he could! Whether or not he'd actually have the guts to present it to her though...that was another issue.
"My Molly? Wha...oh!" Saumarez shook his head. Simple misunderstanding that. "I uh...don't have one actually." He finally stated. He did but...he couldn't admit to it...most certainly not to her! Plus Fugate was right there too and well...it HAD to remain a secret. "Been single all my life." he confessed. "And yourself Princess?" actually, probably a bad question. The Steep scion was single, that much he knew. Because all of a sudden he remembered that terrible letter sitting crumpled in his desk. Considered...for marriage...with...her? Really? This wasn't some joke?
But they never said anything further than that so...had they settled on someone else? Or was that deal off entirely now? He gulped, but brushed it aside. You worry too much! Why would they still be considering him? He had heard not a single word from them since, so probably it was nothing. They had probably realized their mistake in signing her up for a marriage with one of them and had simply dropped it. But then...why was she here...acting as their guide? Why was their hospitality so generous as to send a Princess to greet them? Was there something more going on here, or was it just him?
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Post by spender on Jun 22, 2010 2:00:15 GMT -5
"The Arsenal?" Molly said, keeping her voice low. The weasels could hear it, but it was meant for Ladorak alone. "What about the itinerary? Shouldn't we be following that?" From what she could remember, there were one or two things before checking out the weapons. It was awful nice of him to bump it up closer, but she'd feel horrible if she ruined the Navy's plans for her own personal amusements...
... of course she'd get over it in three minutes, but it was the thought that mattered.
"Arsenal," Steep sighed. She stopped and gazed out at the ships. Then she moved on again. "What a bother." Her walk slowed for a second or as she thought, did I just say that?, but she composed herself nicely. "Ehh, fine. Come along this way... I think..."
"I uh...don't have one actually," Saumarez was saying. "Been single all my life."
Steep grit her teeth. Something about the male weasel's voice was annoying her. She couldn't place it. Probably - but no... No, Welkin accents were rather adorable. At least, some of them were supposed to be.
It must've been that infuriating tuft of fur on his head. Made him look like an idiot. It was just transferring over into his voice in her subconscious. That was it. Yeah. Stupid tuft.
"And yourself Princess?"
"No." Steep left it at that. But she stopped again, wobbling in place. Her walking stick patted the ground a few times, trying to get the best angle to lean on. She closed her eyes, but not from the pain spiking through her head. She reached a paw up to her face, but rather than rub at her scab, she buried a paw pad into her eye and rubbed. With her soggy fur and reddened eyes, there was no way to tell...
She took in a deep breath and continued on.
"When we are in company," she said, "it would be better to address me as Lieutenant. It will help put everyone else at ease - even yourselves." Steep craned her head around to glance at them in turn. "Unless you prefer otherwise." There were some beasts, she knew, who became distracted by the conflict of title versus rank. That they outranked royalty - it was an unsettling thought for many, despite her somewhat distant relation to the actual King.
... blast, her cigar was falling apart. What was wrong with them? Steep nosed into her pocket. Oh... She hadn't dried off very well before putting the uniform on. The pocket she'd stuffed a few cigars into was a dark, damp patch now, and the poor things were unraveling.
"Wickin' chivvers," she muttered. "Need a new case if I'm going to be running about..." She'd lost her old one. Well, broken it, really. She'd tried to undo the dent in it, but it wouldn't take. Her only consolation was that the doctor's head had come out of the impact looking much worse than her cigar case.
"A cigar case?" Molly mused. "Filled with Ferlusan cigars! Oh, Lad - Captain, wouldn't that be a prize? I'll buy you one, hehehe! Forget I said that," she added, her giggling face suddenly turning hilariously stoic.
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Post by Ladorak on Jun 22, 2010 11:15:38 GMT -5
Ladorak suppressed his own laugh at Molly's enthusiasm. It came out more as an audible breath from his nose. Almost a snort...but not quite. He did smile however, and couldn't help but to look over at her. "A cigar case? If you insist. Pay just came in, and it's not like I don't have the money to blow." Ladorak's monthly pay was rather princely. 386 pounds and eight shillings. He could afford to buy a few things during their stop here. "I was thinking a nice arm chair for the cabin actually. It's generally up to Captains to furnish their own cabins after all." he commented in a lower tone, noticing Saumarez patting his pockets.
So hullo...what was this?
Saumarez was patting himself down, his paws closing around something smooth and metallic in his breast pocket. Aha...taking it out, he stayed slightly behind Steep to conceal it from her. It was a cigar case, and a blooming gorgeous one at that. Paw crafted out of silver, it glinted a bit when it caught the bright sun. The silversmith had spared no detail in designing the engravings however. A small ship was emblazoned on the bottom of it, in raised gold. It was supposed to be the HMS Bristol, the first ship he had ever seen action on. His father had commissioned it after Saumarez had fought in the attack on Downel 17 years previous. It had been a bloody encounter, and the most violent the common weasel could ever recall being engaged in. He had been serving as a very young (19 years of age) Lieutenant then, and Lieutenants directed the fire of the guns on ships of the line in combat.
As it had turned out, he had been redirecting a gun crew to try a different position when a shot struck the side of the ship closest to said gun, killing the entirety of the crew working the gun and splattering him with the blood of one very unfortunate soul who'd had his head taken clean off.
To commemorate his survival (and gallantry), Saumarez's father had had it crafted for his son two years before he passed away at the age of 60.
Thus it was his father's gift too...though James rarely smoked. He did on occasion, usually after combat to calm his nerves. It was few and far between, and though he'd bought these cigars before leaving Welkin, he hadn't smoked a single one yet. No combat to date in this war that he'd seen.
Hesitating, the weasel seemed on the verge of putting it back into his pocket before he suddenly drew even with Steep and held the case out to her. "Lieutenant it is then. Lieutenant Steep...you can go ahead and use mine if you want." What was he saying!? Why was he even offering her his cigars AND his expensive father's gift case to this...repulsive jill? But she wasn't repulsive...not really. Something was wrong with her, that much was clear, and though Saumarez wasn't feeling anything akin to romance, she was stirring some compassion within him at least. His desire to help a fellow mustelid was overriding his need to cling to his gift.
But his second guesses were frequent, and he started to regret holding the obviously lavish case out to her. But what was he going to do? Snap his paw back? That wouldn't look very good. So what to do? Offering a small smile (one that was somewhat forced), he gave her the best response he could muster. "You can have the cigars in there too...haven't used them yet." There were about four in there, if he remembered correctly. Maybe five.
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Post by spender on Jun 26, 2010 11:14:00 GMT -5
"Lieutenant Steep...you can go ahead and use mine if you want."
"Oh..." Steep took the case. Something inside her genuinely felt... stirred.
"You can have the cigars in there too...haven't used them yet."
She nearly choked; the cigars—too? She'd thought he was offering just that at first. Not the—not the whole thing.
She turned it over in her paws, marveling. She clicked the lid open and slid the cigars into her pad. Hmm. Probably Welkin rolled. Not exactly her favourite... but even so, she had to force herself not to light them all at once and cram them in every orifice in her face. If she concentrated hard enough, she could just about pretend it made a difference. Mostly they were just a distraction, something to focus on.
Steep passed the case back to Saumarez.
"I can't—keep it, please. It's very nice. I'm sure it means something... special... I'd just lose it." She scratched at her brown neck spike, glancing away. "Thank you."
Molly, meanwhile, had grown quiet. Her eyes widened at a sudden idea. Furniture! She'd always rather liked furniture. The Vulpine Imperium was oddly fixated on such things, with the gothic, the contemporary, the rustic, and... quibbenesque. She'd rather fancied herself the homemaker, but her income was seldom enough to cover basic upkeep. The one time she'd splurged on a nice chair, she'd ended up breaking it apart for firewood that winter.
This would take a while, though. She had to remember the shape and dimensions of Ladorak's cabin... desk here, bed here, an armchair, yes, one here and one there–ooh, and a rug! That would really tie the room together.
"Zhzhzhp!"
Everyone paused. Molly blushed as their eyes turned to her.
"Sorry," she said. "Don't know what came over me." Except curtains. I could match them with the bedsheets and the little cloths they put over the back of armchairs! There could be frills! And laaaace...
She licked her lips. She'd almost been drooling.
(Despite her bloodlust and other peculiar hobbies, Molly was, at heart, a jill's jill. A gene long dormant was now coming into play, and making a madhouse of her usual sensibilities. Probably because it wasn't her money she'd be spending.)
Sooner than expected, they came to the gatehouse at the edge of the city. Steep left them to talk to the guard for a minute, then came back. Facing them once more, rather than walking alongside them, it almost seemed as if the weasel had melted a little in the sun. Parts of her that one would think couldn't droop were indeed drooping. From her frequent pawing at her scab were pinpricks of blood where her claws gouged too deep.
"Right," she said, doing her best to perk up a little for them. "Hector here will finish your tour to the armoury. I'm afraid I must stay inside the city for now..." She paused, mentally grasping for an excuse. She found one: "Royalty and all... Not allowed out without a proper contingent of guards. Foolish rules." Was 'foolish' the word she wanted? Hopefully.
She tried to give them an encouraging smile, but all that happened was her whiskers twitched her lip into a brief snarl.
"Enjoy your stay, Captains, Jis Serra."
She turned to leave them.
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Post by Ladorak on Jun 26, 2010 19:40:51 GMT -5
It was with great relief that Steep pawed the case back to him. His regret suddenly flowed out of his body, pooling at his hind paws and disseminating in every direction. "It was made for me by my father." he said simply, shoving it back into the pocket from whence it had emerged. "My pleasure." he responded on instinct to her "thank you." Pleasure? Had it really been his pleasure?
That was odd...he normally would have offered a simple "you're welcome" but...his etiquette was acting aberrant today for some reason. They were interrupted shortly by the...were those...zheeps? Or zhps? Saumarez couldn't recall if they were two separate things or not. He stopped, as did Steep.
Ladorak had it pegged right off. That mysterious and wonderful sound that was so rarely heard in this day and age! It was a dying art, a truly magnificent sound that sent shivers up his spine, tingling from the base of his tail up to the tips of his ears. Without realizing it nor being able to help himself (nor indeed knowing why Molly had emitted the sounds in the first place), Ladorak himself let out a very small and hardly audible "zhp!" himself, a bare few seconds after she had.
"Mmmph!" he half-cleared his throat and half grunted to hide that rather surprising slip. He...could zheep? Or zhp? Since when? But did that really matter? That spark that Molly had ignited within his breast had caused that outburst, if you could call it that. But it seemed most attention was focused on Molly, and Ladorak was off the hook...unless of course Molly had heard him. He doubted if Saumarez and Steep had.
The gate wasn't too far off, and they were left briefly alone while Steep engaged the guard in conversation, returning and looking for all the world as if her knees would give out and she would crumble to dust before them...at least that's how it seemed to Saumarez. He almost charged forward to catch her in case she did do that, then had to shake himself down inside and ask himself just what the hell had come over him.
The blood glistened like rubies on her snout, that scab being cut quite deep it seemed. Now it was his turn to have something stirring within him, as if some weasel were sticking a giant wooden spoon in his chest and moving it about. Poor thing...what was her story? Why did she seem so frail? And that blood...it was the queerest thing but it made him wish he could just make that blood go away. Vanish. So that she wasn't bleeding...
Sudden pain flared on his snout, and he flinched, the sensation disappearing just as suddenly as it had come. Ugh...seriously James...now? He had this nasty habit of imagining the pain of others, but little did he know the extent this jill went through. His snout simply itched now. Wait...she was leaving?
Ladorak knew this wouldn't do. Saumarez simply was a bit dismayed that he wouldn't get to learn more about this Lieutenant. "Actually James...why don't you go with the Lieutenant here?" It was Ladorak. This immediately raised the suspicions of the weasel.
"Eh? What do you mean?"
"I don't know...it's just that she's supposed to be the Ferlusanian delegation and well...we ARE dining with her tonight. I'd rather that at least one of his went with her throughout the day, and since Molly and I are heading to the arsenal - why don't you show Captain Saumarez your palace or residence Lieutenant?" he suggested now, interrupting himself halfway through his explanation.
Saumarez only stared at him. Ladorak needed a better excuse it seemed. "I'm just saying James...she looks a bit worn out. I'd rather she have an escort back to her home if you can manage it. And since you're heading there, may as well be Welkin's representative to the Steep family until our dinner tonight."
THAT did it. Something switched on inside the weasel, and he knew he had lost. He went into gentlemammal mode. His pathological obsession with formality and playing the gentlemammal always overrode ANYTHING within him...at least in public. It was a defense mechanism really...but nevertheless Ladorak's tactic worked. Saumarez fell for it hook, line and sinker. He was physically incapable of leaving a jill in distress to fend for herself. Proper etiquette demanded it.
"You're right of course. Sorry Jis, but you do look quite fatigued. Please...allow me to accompany you back to your estate." It seemed there was no choice. Ladorak was insistent on continuing on with Molly, and Steep had already made it clear she wasn't going any farther.
Ladorak took Molly aside, looking down into her eyes. "To the arsenal then my dear? Or...is there something you'd like to tell me? Were those..." he lowered his voice to conspiratorial tones. "zheeps I heard?" He spoke the words right into her ear, so that only she could hear, as if it was the biggest secret in the world.
Saumarez felt incredibly uncomfortable now that it dawned on him that Ladorak had conned him into doing this. "Well...lead the way Lieutenant." he said, gesturing with his paw back to the city.
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Post by spender on Jun 27, 2010 7:54:37 GMT -5
As if she were a kit! Honestly!
"You're right of course. Sorry Jis, but you do look quite fatigued. Please...allow me to accompany you back to your estate."
"I don't need help!" Steep growled—and in her irritation, growled it in Ferlusian, no less. She caught herself quickly, and forced her shoulders to relax.
"Thank you," she said, now in Welkin's Common tongue again. She breathed a sigh of relief. She could do this. She could be... tolerable. At the very least, she could not insult them.
"Well...lead the way Lieutenant."
"Mmf," she grunted, stalking off. It wasn't much of a stalk. Her paws gave way after two steps, and she barely caught herself with her cane. Her entire body seemed to tremble with some diseased ferocity, but she pushed through it, straightening herself and holding her head high once again. She gave her parasol a spin, rolled the cigar in her mouth to the other side of her muzzle.
Odd, she thought, after a few silent minutes; she had been expecting to play tour guide to a company of beasts, not two Captains and a Molly Serra. Something was off about it. The engagement had been planned to last the whole afternoon, not a quick romp to the city outskirts and back—just her luck to get some silly stoats wanting to go outside the city entirely! She'd been hoping to dump the entire group. But what of the rest of the Welkin Captains? Surely she'd seen more than two ships in port. What of their Admiral, Hood?
The weasel spat off to the side in irritation. Of course. They still didn't trust her (and with good reason! she added spitefully.) So of course they'd have someone else taking the rest around. Surely, late as she was, if she was truly meant to see a larger group, one of the Captains would have informed her, or sent the hussy off to fetch them back...
It was just... odd. Just her and Saumarez now. Weasels. Male and female. Welkin and Ferlusian. Funny, sometimes, how things seemed to be work out to play the opposites like that. Oh, well.
They arrived at the Steep manor in good time. Steep's pace had quickened somewhat, eager to return home. As they came up the drive, she cast her parasol into the hedge, and flung her straw hat away like a discus into a flower patch. Her boots were kicked off before she was even up the front steps. She burst open the front doors with her shoulder more than any actual doorknob-turning expertise, and her cane clattered to the polished wood floor. She reached out, her paws and elbows acting almost magnetic, such was the force she leant against the walls of the front hall. All around the manor, in fact, were gouges in the wall paneling, scrapes and smudges from her earlier adventures through the rooms.
"Wainscoooooott!" she called, (once again, slipping back into her native language) "We have a visitor! Tend to him!"
She waved Saumarez on.
"Come in—sitting room's just that way. I'll be with you in a minute."
Steep took a door on her immediate left, practically slamming it behind her.
"To the arsenal then my dear? Or...is there something you'd like to tell me? Were those... zheeps I heard?"
Molly blushed furiously. Furiously!
"I don't know if that's any of your business!" she snapped. She immediately regretted it. That Steep weasel must've been rubbing off on her. "I mean... maybe I zheeped... maybe I didn't. Maybe it was a sneeze. I mean, if you don't know..."
Molly sighed, then grinned up at Ladorak, reaching up to peck him on the cheek—the guard was ahead of them, so no one saw this show of affection.
"I'm sorry, dear... Oh, I'm all in a fluff! I can't think what to do one moment to the next. We're heading there already, so the arsenal is fine. But now you've got me thinking about furniture, and all this walking has me hungry, I could really do with some food soon. And that... yes," she conceded, "I zheeped. Is it really that rare? Blaine used to do it all the time... for some reason, never in his white molt. But, come to think, I haven't really heard it since leaving the Imperium. Is it... frowned upon or something? Like the war dance?"
She bit her lip. Could it be she just made a total fool of herself—and Ladorak, by association—to Saumarez and Steep with her little outburst?
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Post by Ladorak on Jun 27, 2010 12:14:17 GMT -5
Saumarez was taken through the streets, not minding the pace so much. Steep walked fast, then almost seemed to fall forward. He rushed ahead, instinct acting up again, but she managed to rest on her cane and prevent a complete spill from occurring.
Breathing a sigh of relief under his breath, he was certain this jill would end up giving him cardiac arrest before the day ended. She was so...frail! It seemed as if the wind itself could blow her over at times...but what a recovery! She up on her footpaws, twirling her parasol and shifting her cigar. Not bad. Attractive...well the way she spun that parasol was at least. A real way to fetch a jack's eye.
And now it was getting really ridiculous. Oh come on James! Was her rebound really that attractive? Yet he found his eyes following her as she moved, and his uniform suddenly felt just a tad stuffy for some reason...
And then there was that cigar, and that disgusting bleeding scab, and that overall worn out and intoxicated look about her...his little...whatever it had been was short lived. Especially at their arrival at the manor.
Tossing her parasol into the bushes and turning her hat into a discus, the weasel was utterly shocked at her kicking off her boots and exposing those bare ankles to her. He was going to tell her that maybe that wasn't very appropriate but who was he to really lecture her in her own home? Either way it caused him to feel as if his uniform were choking him as those ankles walked themselves right into the foyer.
She seemed to need the very walls of the house themselves to support her, and she was back to that broken jill again. That jill that had caught his eye and made him feel a tad heated earlier was now just a ragged, haggard and morose looking thing.
He went from (maybe) admiring her to feeling sorry for her all over again and wondering for the hundredth time just what her story was. Oh? A sitting room? And just where was she...SLAM! OK...so much for that.
He was facing the door she had unceremoniously shut in his face. Moving into a rather richly decorated room, he could see blue upholstery on the chairs and black and white marble on the floor. Plenty of windows looked out onto the front gardens, and a golden gilt mirror rested in between two settees.
Saumarez was only minor nobility, and had nothing near as lavish as this. He had a pleasant seaside villa on the island of Guernsey, but it wasn't anything like...this! This was a colonial manor of the plushest taste.
Sinking down into one of the settees, he resisted the temptation to go to the mirror. He looked fine he was sure...and why should he care? He had Dorothea back home after all...he wasn't looking to invite Steep out for drinks tonight or anything. It was just dinner...plenty of time to freshen up before then. But those ankles...and that twirling parasol...and that...vibrant jill that had emerged briefly in the streets to shine her light upon him...
"May I fetch you something from the bar sir?"
"Eh?" Saumarez was brought out of his daydream by the lower voice of a butler who spoke Common only roughly it seemed. "Oh uh...you must be Wainscott eh? I...I really can't impose." He said, shaking his head and offering a "please go away smile." Wainscott only quirked a brow.
"But I was told to..."
"Yes...I know..." He paused now, looking out at the garden again. Huh...if they were offering...what would it hurt? "A scotch if you can manage." he said finally, hoping Wainscott understood. He asked Saumarez to repeat the request, and when he seemed to comprehend, he shuffled off, returning a few minutes later with a glass of the dark yellow liquid. Most Ferlusanians drank wine, so it was a bit of an unusual request, but Saumarez was quite partial to scotch, unlike Ladorak who was partial to gin.
Swirling the fluid by rotating his glass in his paw, the weasel regarded it for a moment with indifference. "Thank you Wainscott." What was he doing here again? Why wasn't he out in the city? Knowing it was useless to ponder mysterious things like this, he instead raised the glass to his lips, the somewhat bitter and very honey like fluid burning a tad as it went down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ladorak's jaw opened a bit when she snapped at him, and he almost lost his pince nez in surprise. Was she really angry? But then she gave him a peck on his cheek, and it seemed as if all was well.
"Furniture?" he asked, giving her a hint of a smile that quickly grew, regarding her like he would a kit. "For my cabin perhaps? And yes...I need food too. We'll tell them to stop on the way...or head to a restaurant after. I'm sure they'll have some nice seaside dining. Just a bite of lunch and then back to the tour."
He leaned in now, whiskers brushing by her cheek fur as he leaned his muzzle right in to her ear. "As for that zheep...zhp!" he zheeped right into her ear, and pulled back, eyes glowing like a mischievous stripling. "It's just a dying tongue, that's all." He explained. "Didn't expect to hear it. You have no idea what it did to me when it left your lips. Awoke something that's lain dormant for far too long I'm sure. I zheeped along with you, without knowing I could. I suppose you missed it, that's all. It was...an exciting sound...and I'll leave it at that." he said, winking at her.
"So...shall we then? Oh..." he pulled back, beginning to walk them over to the gate. "Enough talk about Blinky eh? The poor jack's dead. Doesn't do any good talking about the deceased. Might bring bad luck." he said, giving her a still very reasonable smile.
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Post by bookity101 on Jun 28, 2010 17:52:36 GMT -5
Miri smirked a little at Monty’s response to her smile. It seemed she had that she had thrown him for a major loop with her smile. Odd, she’d never gotten that response from anyone before now… must be none of them were so intent on making sure they knew every part of how the beasts around them worked. Still smirking, she fell in step behind him;
“Lead the way Boss.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Luxe let his paw drop to his side. Of course she wouldn’t let him help her. Didn’t let him help her get in, wouldn’t let him help her out. Luxe sighed quietly as he stood up behind her, ready to follow her lead to wherever it was that she wanted to go.
“I could use a bite to eat Jis Zephyr.” He took a place just behind her and to her left. He didn’t know exactly where they were heading so he would simply follow her lead.
“If you say so Jis Zephyr, you’re the one who’s been here before; I will simply follow your lead.”
((Short, but here))
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Post by Ladorak on Jun 28, 2010 23:26:18 GMT -5
Monty knew what he wanted to ask next...but he had pushed it aside in lieu of explaining where they were going. As he marched forward, the flags on the Customs House fluttering in the breeze before them, the weasel jack took a moment to clear his throat.
"Errm...ahem...before we get there JIs Talian...I was wondering...would you want to tell me about that ribbon yet? Or is it...not quite the time?" he asked pointing at it in a nondescript way. He only hoped she wouldn't get all defensive again about it. The last thing he wanted was to alienate his employee.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zephyr noticed her boss seemed resigned about something. Oh here we go! He was upset over not being able to play the gentlemammal it seemed. But didn't he realize that she just wasn't the sort of jill to open up that easily? Especially not to one she'd only been working with for a month.
"What's with the stiff back boss?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "We're in Ferlusan for crying out loud! Loosen up a little! Otherwise you're gonna put me on edge." she said dismissively, and turned to face him as she walked. "I mean there's nothing wrong is there?" she was being a bit lighter now, and not nearly as aloof and cold shouldered.
She regarded him with a raised brow, obviously having loosened up herself in the past minute or so. She was taking him to a seaside cafe they could sit down at and grab a bite, as he put it. Nothing intimate mind, as she wasn't that sort of jill on a first outing. But sure...MAYBE take the opportunity to get to know her boss a bit better. He didn't seem callous like most of her previous superiors after all.
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