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| Le Fabuleux Destin du Capitaine Moineau; Nadine, Jacques; PM to join | |
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| Topic Started: 25 Nov 2007, 08:56 PM (452 Views) | |
| Jack | 25 Nov 2007, 08:56 PM Post #1 |
You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
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((Reposting.)) Jack had run a long way, and he was getting tired of it. When would these men finally give up? Every time he slowed down, hoping to be rid of them, there they came again, and Jack had to dart off once more. Jack always did what he had to do, but he was no big fan of physical exertion, and, in his opinion, running was the lowest form of exercise. Painfully exhausting and extremely unattractive, it only had one benefit - and that was the potential to save Jack's life when he was being followed by people who for whatever trifling reason didn't like him. Eventually things behind Jack went quiet again, and he looked over his shoulder to confirm that his pursuers were really gone. There was no sign of them; good. Jack turned left, aiming to take a roundabout way back to the harbour. He looked around, deciding that this was a classy area of town indeed - and not something that seemed familiar. He didn't get the chance to enjoy it for long. "There! There he is!" Jack rolled his eyes. He was almost prepared to give himself up, rather than continuing this annoying game of cat and mouse. But as giving up might well lead to his hanging - if he would still be alive after the brute squad was done with him - running yet again was still preferable, albeit by an ever decreasing margin. He took off, making a swift right turn. There was a door not far beyond the corner, and Jack went through it without thinking, shutting it behind him as quietly as he could in his haste. He lowered the latch to keep his enemies out, should they somehow deduce that he'd gone in there. Before going on his way again, Jack took a moment to take in his new surroundings. It was a large garden; nice, but entirely overtrimmed in typical French style, everything cut into precise shapes without a twig out of place. It offered little cover - but Jack saw no one, and he would be on his way again in no time. Unfortunately, as happened so often when Jack counted on his luck, fate decided otherwise. Still half-running, he turned the corner of a hedge, and there she was. If Jack could have chosen which specimen of mankind he'd run into, she certainly would have been it - but that wasn't why he stopped the way he did. If this girl would scream, things could still go very wrong for him - and why wouldn't she scream, with a stranger tresspassing in her garden? Jack had to think of an explanation, quickly. If he showed any intention to flee, the girl would presume he had committed a crime, or had been planning to do such - and then he'd be lost. The men in her house would go after Jack, and his pursuers might well follow the noise and find him. Therefore Jack didn't run, as much as he was inclined to; he simply froze, and, after a second's hesitation, calmly took two steps towards the girl and bowed, taking off his hat with a big swoop. When he rose again, he was all dignity. The girl was obviously among the poshest of people, and Jack thought that the best approach would be to meet her on her own ground, as it were; to show her he was just like all the classy people she knew, so she wouldn't be afraid of him. "Pardon the intrusion, but I was forced to use your magnificent garden as an escape route when followed by some very unsavoury creatures." Then there was a noise some distance off - the door Jack had come in through being roughly tested for access. It started Jack out of his dignified act; eyes wide, he looked behind him. Would they come in? It was unlikely, but not impossible. Either way, he had given himself away to the girl now, and his casual facade was no longer an option. Looking at her again, his eyes were pleading, his mouth slightly open in an unvoiced appeal for help. |
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| Nadine Brissot | 1 Dec 2007, 08:33 AM Post #2 |
diddle diddle dumpling my son john
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(Hurray, the reply that was half-done offline is now all-done online.) Nadine was out in the sunshine, enjoying this day. This day, this glorious day, Valentin was off at the plantations doing whatever mischief he was doing there. She would spend every moment that he was gone out of doors and out of the estate, walking around the town, unaccompanied if her mother would permit, and just enjoying her freedom. It was so rare to come by these days, so shining and glorious that when she achieved it, at first she didn't know what to do with herself. Valentin hat announced but two days ago that he would leave on this very morning for the plantation, so that he might check on the sugar crop and review what the overseer had to say about the slaves. Ah, what a pity, she thought to herself as she imagined the coffee-colored skinned men and women working long hours in the hot sun, That they, they who have no choice but to go and stay when told, to do what is given them, are considered slaves. But at least they live - at least they can go out when they are not working and do as they please then. They are content with their place in life, and they can protest about it if they wish in the forms that they would. I... I have no choice but to abide by their evil master, and no words have I to say toward my freedom. Perhaps I too am a slave... And that had ended her train of thought for the time being. She had been scolded by Valentin for not practicing and was sent to her room, and he locked the door behind her, saying she would not be allowed to leave until he had heard her music for at least three hours solid. Now she was out in the sun, blinking in its ferocity, taking in the warmth, the salty breeze, the bright colors of the flowers up close. While she had seen them from her window day by day, they were so much sweeter up close, when you could press your nose into them and breathe deep the fragrance. She had dressed for travel, at least a walk down to the sleepy town below, and she had dismissed Marianne for the day to do with as she pleased. She wanted to build herself up for the walk, and she had done so properly, she believed. Once, twice around the garden, pulling a flower here and there to tuck into her hair, her long dress scraping in the dirt and she didn't care. It was cream, powdery and weighted at the bottom, with large, swirling flowers covering the fabric, a print and fashion that Marianne said was popular with girls of the merchant class. White embroidery hemmed the gown around the edges, but it was without lace and frills - a simple high-cut in the fashion she most adored, free flowing around her hips and short around her arms. A curled hat with a slight poof of a feather adorned her head, shading her eyes from the sun. She wore dainty gloves over her hands, and a small bag draped around her wrist, containing a few coins that she expected to spend on the commoner's food. She didn't want people to know she was nobility, it would have been embarassing, and even more so that she was French. But then there was a creak at the gate, a slight creak that she had noticed when she and her mother had first moved into the estate. The gardener had forever tried to fix it, but it would forever creak, she imagined. And now there was a rough man standing before her, dressed in rough, dirty clothes and smelling strongly of rum. He seemed like a vision, the sort of man that Valentin would have had shot immediately for even looking at Nadine without paying a fee. His words were quick and Nadine almost couldn't almost understand them since he had spoken so low, but she understood that he was hiding from the voices on the other side of the large, plush shrub wall. She offered him a sweet smile, the only thing she could do given. An idea came to her, and her heart started to beat very quickly, and now with a sly smile she pressed a finger to her lips and swished past the man and flung open the gate. Men in dark coats with brocade were standing there, rifles in hand, an angry look on their faces. Her chin turned up very high, though she was shorter than both of them, and her mouth narrowed. "Excusez-moi," she said rather snottily. "But I believe you are disturbing a private party." She sniffed and glanced over her shoulder. "If you please..." She left her sentence trailing. One of the soldiers looked at her with distain. "We're looking for a fugative, miss. We think he might have come this way." Nadine frowned at the man. "Sir, you are to address me as Your Grace. And had there been a fugative running loose through my garden I would have screamed." Her heart was pounding in her throat - surely they could see right through her facade? "Now, if you please." They fumbled a bit before saluting, and then turned and left. Nadine made sure they were gone before she closed the gate. The intruder in her garden, obviously the fugative and the man who was making her heart pound with excitement, was still sounding there. She smiled again, and stepped toward him again. "I hope you do not mind that I lied on your account. My name is... Nadine. You can call me that if you wish." |
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| Jack | 2 Dec 2007, 08:30 PM Post #3 |
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You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
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When the girl put a finger to her lips, telling Jack to be quiet - a complete reversal of the situation as Jack saw it - Jack's surprise was almost enough to make him forget his very healthy fear of the men chasing him. As it was, it cast a shadow of a doubt on the girl's sanity. But then, she didn't look like a loonatic. On the contrary, she seemed to know exactly what she was doing, and the way she sent Jack's pursuers packing struck a spark of something remarkably akin to admiration. He would not have thought her capable of that, to look at her. As much as the girl intrigued Jack, he couldn't help but wonder about her motives. She didn't know him, so it was unlikely that she had something in particular that she intended to demand in return for this favour she was doing him - but Jack really couldn't think of any other reason she might have. The only possible reason he could discern was that, incredible though it seemed... she had actually believed his dignified act, and presumed him to be one of her own. "I hope you do not mind that I lied on your account. My name is... Nadine. You can call me that if you wish." Did he mind? This was really too much to figure out, and Jack decided to give up on trying to do so. So far, the girl - Nadine - had saved his life, and she was treating him civilly. Jack didn't know what, if anything, she wanted from him, but since she clearly didn't mean him harm, he was willing to go along with whatever she had in mind - for now, at least. And if the dignified act was what had got him this far, well, he could stick with it for a little longer. Jack bowed again at Nadine's introduction, less exaggerated than last time. "Nadine... I cannot thank you enough. I apologise again for intruding in your lovely garden, and I assure you that I will inconvenience you as little as possible. However..." Jack glanced at the gate, wondering just how far the soldiers might have gone by now. Probably not far enough. "I do not think it wise for me to leave just yet, so I would be grateful if I should be allowed to remain in your enchanting presence for a while longer." Belatedly, he realised that he had not introduced himself. It was not something he was keen on doing, but since Nadine had done so, and since she was content to stick to first names, Jack didn't see any harm in telling her his, which was undoubtedly the most common on the island. "Incidentally, my name is Jack." |
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| Nadine Brissot | 15 Feb 2008, 07:09 AM Post #4 |
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diddle diddle dumpling my son john
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I apologize for this not being posted like, two months ago. My muse for Nadine has sucked of late. As in, the black-hole variety, the kind where not even light escapes, you know? I hope my reply is decent. Nadine nodded her head at his second bow. Goodness, what did he think this was, a formal dinner party? He was trying so hard at something Nadine knew he would never be able to do, and it was almost humorous, but not completely, not enough to make her laugh, anyway. NOT DONE. DAMNIT I WISH I HAD MUSE. |
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