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Anastasia's Room [Faye Manor]
Topic Started: Aug 11 2010, 03:34 PM (427 Views)
Anastasia Zytsev
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&&.


She'd run. Anastasia knew it was stupid. She knew that Parker probably knew what she was doing. Yet at the same time, some kind of pride, or worry, or whatever it was required for her to leave before Parker saw them. Sure, he'd seen her cry before. And yes, she'd cried over losing him once previous, but that was losing him in the terms of him leaving the country.

Not dying.

It was really her fear that she was hiding.

In her room, Annie didn't pay attention to the gorgeous, huge bouquet of roses on her dresser, nor the sun setting outside of her window. She didn't examine the room in awe, like she had every other time she walked into the room. She didn't stare into the oil lamps, nor trail her fingers over the elaborate etching and marble in the posts of her bed. She didn't watch the light from the window bounce off the many mirrors and glass objects in the room. She didn't look at the rich, silky softness of the champagne and scarlet bed accessories, nor touch the decorations on the wall. She didn't light any more candles, nor drink the full-bodied wine that had been sent to her as a gift in a crystal decanter. She didn't go sit in the bathroom that resembled a small greenhouse (to her previous delight).

Annie didn't see any of it as she came in, sinking into the small, delicate sitting chair and letting it go. She literally crumpled into tears, curling up in that seat as well as she could with the clothes she had. It was difficult to cry when she couldn't get in enough air to let out the emotions she was feeling, but that just made it worse. It just made her more upset.

She'd barely gotten into her room, maybe only for two, three minutes when she was surrounded. There was no mistaking who it was; his skin was warm, but not hot. His clothes were cool; his cologne an entirely different scent. She hadn't heard him speak; she only heard the door shut and her first reaction was to think Parker did come after her. If she hadn't deduced all of the above, she probably wouldn't have let herself keep crying, probably wouldn't have held back so tightly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry...I thought I could do this but he's so hot and..." She spoke through her sobs, voice lilting, cracking. The guilt was literally just eating at her control, washing the kohl straight off her face with how hot and fast the tears were streaming down her face.

The end of her sentence was a simple, choked, "-joking."

About stories. Her stories.

"My stories only have happy endings." She eventually said, forcefully. The tears had dwindled, but a fair amount of time had passed. They would, undoubtedly, be late for the ball, and now she had managed to make her face red and puffy, and cry all over his robes. Great. She just kept making messes, didn't she?

Not necessarily ashamed by her tears but, rather, the result of them, Annie bit her lip, rubbing his shoulder gingerly to get rid of the moisture as well as possible. "Sorry." She whispered again.
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Brandin Faye
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Seven
Distinctly awkward internally, Brandin was at least thankful that his impassive expression wasn't the only act he could put on. Truthfully, he had no idea what to do, and therefore kept retreating to precisely what Anastasia herself had taught him: hugs. He could do that. He could hold her, though his mind had trouble processing how at all that could help. Holding her did not bring the fever down; a potion did that. It didn't fast forward time; the clock they were searching out could hopefully, do that.

Yet the longer he sat there holding her, her face buried in his shoulder and his chin tucking her head beneath it, secure. His lips were unconsciously buried into her mass of hair while she sobbed, and he shook with her, trying to steady the convulsing arms and chest into a natural rhythm again. As her hands grasped his shirt, he twisted in the seat to pull her back further, trying to hug her closer.

At her words, his expression flicked slightly, a small smile in place. Of course Parker was joking. Parker was always joking with him too, and the only thing that had changed was the jokes were getting worse. It was one of the strangest indicators of emotion that Brandin had ever encountered. The dark humor was one he hardly understood, but couldn't help but be amused by.

Settling on what he hoped was a deep and reassuring nod, Brandin continued blinking when he heard her next words and he smiled far easier down at her for a moment. "It's all right."

This was on mess he didn't mind cleaning up. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his wand and within moments had dried them both, a simple Scourgify doing the trick. Lips twitching a moment later he said simply, "See? No problem."

Of course, she did have to fix her make-up before they went, but Brandin figured a, she knew that already and b, they didn't actually have to go right away. Still holding her, he looked soft for a moment and then said firmly,

"Then considering this is your story now as well," It made a marginal amount of sense. He didn't mean she was writing it; he meant she was in it. ", it will naturally follow that this has to end happily as well."

He wasn't going to lie and promise things he didn't have; he didn't know when Parker would recover, or how. He didn't know how long this would take, or half of what to do. He didn't have a simple solution yet, however hard he searched for a cure. Instead, Brandin remarked lightly, "Right this moment, however? Parker's fine. Not perfect, obviously, but he's fine. He's stable, his heart and lung rate improved by at least fwenty percent in the last twenty hours, he's stable, and I just gave him something for the fever."

These were gentle, but what he hoped were overwhelmingly honest points, and thus helpfuul.
I am nothing more than
A little boy inside
That cries out for attention
Yet I always try to hide
Cause I talk to you like children
Though I don't know how I feel
But I know I'll do the right thing
If the right thing is revealed
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Anastasia Zytsev
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It was odd. Anastasia usually had arms to cry in, if she wanted them. Never from her family; it didn't work like that. And not from Jere, even as he taught her. But she had little boys she played with, and then once she was a teenager, boyfriends. Guy friends. Yet it wasn't necessarily something she felt was just supposed to be there. She still appreciated every little hug, especially knowing that Brandin was probably doing this for the first time.

For some reason that actually made her feel a little better, even if it was only because she didn't want him to feel uncomfortable and it calmed her down. The other part of it was that...Brandin was reliable. He magically cleaned the mess. He gave her logistics. He gave her cold hard facts.

But it didn't have anything to do with the emotions of it. It had nothing to do with the way she was feeling. She could see for herself that he was taking care of Parker to the best of his ability. She truly believed that if anyone could take care of him, it was Brandin. But the cold hard facts didn't do anything. There were no promises; because there couldn't be any. Because he didn't know, and that was the reassurance she really needed.

"Right." Anastasia got up and walked back over to her mirror, picking up the little pot and brush. Inspecting her puffy, red eyes in the mirror, she slid her own wand out. "It's the waiting period that's the worst, you know. Not knowing what'll happen, and when, but knowing that something is inevitable."

With a spell to soothe the puffiness, she swept the kohl back on. She wasn't under the impression she'd start crying again, because she was tired. A really good cry and she would be okay for a while.

"We're late." She murmured, tucking her hair back as she turned back around to look at Brandin. She thought she'd done a pretty good job of shielding what she had just exploded with, but it was not going to stay hidden for a while. Annie wasn't like Brandin; she couldn't not feel. She couldn't turn them off, and she had a horrible game face. A horrible, game face.
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Brandin Faye
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Seven
A dash of something akin to pride shone from Brandin's expression as she calmed, taking a moment to stare into his eyes, and nod. The trust she was offering him did something to his stomach; his eyes narrowed while she turned around. He cast a glance at it, wondering idly where it had gone, and simply nodded again. That was bizarre.

It passed a moment later when she spoke again, and his gaze lifted. Though she was reapplying make-up--brushes, puffs and little pencils drew themselves around her cheeks and eyes--she continued talking in a far steadier voice. He draped one arm around the chair while waiting, chin propped on his hand, smiling softly while looking at her in the mirror.

"I understand." The words felt defunct, but the next sentence hung heavy in the air as his fingers flicked beneath his chin, which jerked and his gaze met the floor. "I hate the unknown."

Hatred was an emotion. As hard as some found it not to love, Brandin had long ago thought that if you told one to stop hating, they'd find it just as difficult. Grudges were as life long as loves, if indeed they had not outlasted the spark of passion in the first place. He knew he shouldn't feel that way--shouldn't betray feeling at all. Yet his words rang with a genuine sentiment. It was Anastasia. She knew more about him than his wife did sometimes.

Wetting his lips carefully, his fingers met his forehead, he took a breath and then he steadied, perfectly composed once more when he met her gaze in the mirror again. There was a breathless pause while he said simply, "Right. Ready?"

She spoke at the same time as he did--pointing out the late hour and his lips twitched in a smile as he nodded. "We're guests of honor. The party won't really start until we get there."

He smirked for a moment.

Standing and fixing his own tie, he moved over to her to gently put a hand on his shoulder and nodded. Nose twitching he continued, "Speaking of stories," He remarked lightly, as comfortingly as he could. "Is a ball not the perfect setting for a fairy tale? Perhaps you could try to act the part of one of your characters. I've found it helps anyway. Losing yourself in the story of it all...it helps."

There was no need to elaborate on his experience of course. It was simply the only advice he could offer. Keeping his eyes on hers, his hand moved to brush against the necklace she wore. He knew perfectly well what it really was, having been there when she transfigured it and his smile remained calm.

"And you still have him with you--no matter how far in the game you go. Right here."

I am nothing more than
A little boy inside
That cries out for attention
Yet I always try to hide
Cause I talk to you like children
Though I don't know how I feel
But I know I'll do the right thing
If the right thing is revealed
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Damocles Faye
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--This RP Took Place in the first week of August.--


Having fixed his shirt (not that he'd needed to be told it was backwards naturally), Damocles had finally given up waiting for a late Rowland to show. Rowland would show up eventually. That wasn't his problem and in many ways, that particular morning Damocles simply didn't care. He did have the ability to dress himself, shockingly enough. That morning he had forgone mail and armor, and was wearing only a red tunic shirt and similar trousers. He didn't need his sword, as he had his wand tucked safely away and he had paid quite a bit attention to making his hair lie right before he left.

Shaking his head to himself, he shut his door behind him and took a steadying breath.

The hallways were as ever alive with activity, servants going this way and that--and Damocles spotted his niece with a smile, the runaway darting down the hallways with a fellow runaway cousin. It gave him comfort to see the castle as it always was, despite the fact that he had covered his duties for that morning and had a particular extraordinary, doorway in mind. When he stood in front of it, he took a few minutes, shifting back and forth.

Another few moments passed and then he knocked resolute and called, "Milady Anastasia?"

Edited by Damocles Faye, Nov 9 2010, 08:07 PM.
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...time is a valuable thing; watch it fly by as the pendulum swings...
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Anastasia Zytsev
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Anastasia had still been getting used to the room, waking up earlier and earlier each day. As comfortable as the bed might have seemed, it was still a lot harder than one that she was used to. Despite the pregnancy being glamoured, she could still feel it and hard beds were not her friends.

Or maybe there was just a pea underneath it.

The thought made Anastasia giggle a little in amusement, writing down another thought in her open diary (one that she had started there, as she'd not brought it with her to the ultrasound appointment) as she worked on fixing up her hair for the day. Before she could get too far, Anastasia heard a knock on the door, a gentleman's voice calling for her name.

"Come in!" She called cheerfully, adjusting her dress and inspecting the state of her hair before standing and sliding the diary underneath the mattress. Gathering her hair over her shoulder, she turned to greet Damocles. "Good morning!"
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Damocles Faye
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Damocles couldn't help it. When he heard the giggle on the other side, his smile widened. Hearing her that happy made him smile. Why bother hiding that? Hand falling to his side as the door opened, he inclined his head in a proper nod.

"Good morning to you." He was beaming. The cheeriness was slightly unexpected, considering the overall state of things, but he was too thrilled to care. He took a firm stance with his hands behind his back for a moment and cast only a single glance around the room--to insure he could keep his thoughts off her for a moment.

"I was hoping, perchance, that you might accompany into town today." His lips twitched. "It seems I have the morning free and I couldn't think of a better way to spend it than in your company."

Honestly, they could do whatever she liked. He merely knew a few places in town he'd enjoy taking her.
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...time is a valuable thing; watch it fly by as the pendulum swings...
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Anastasia Zytsev
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Anastasia had been slightly abashed after laughing to hear that someone was on the other side of the door - okay, not just someone; she knew Damocles' voice already - but she figured it wasn't that big of a deal. She figured that maybe he was looking around the room for someone else there with her given she was certain he already knew what the room looked like, but she took the moment to take in his outfit. Red was a really good color for him, but she saw that he had taken the time to do his hair and everything.

"You look lovely." Anastasia complimented, just taking her pile of hair and twisting it up being her head to finish getting ready for the day. Her face brightened in clear delight as he offered to take her into the town, walking over to where Damocles was standing. "I would love to accompany you."

Of course, then there was the usual chivalrous compliment, and she smiled. "You really have a morning free?" For whatever reason, she found that hard to believe.
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Damocles Faye
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His eyes met hers the moment she complimented him and he paused. Anastasia seemed in that minute to be carried by an invisible breeze of happiness that a simple smile from her had decided to bless him as well. Her happiness seemed to lift him somewhere else. It was contagious. He couldn't imagine what it was that could cause that, but he was grateful nonetheless. With his lips twitched in a half-smirk he inclined his head to receive her compliment, and returned,

"You look..." His eyes traced over for her a moment and found a gasp escape his lips instead of a word. His lips twisted in his smile and after the smallest shake of his head, "Beautiful."

It was too small a word.

Momentarily stymied, he pushed on as she walked over to him and he nodded, reaching to take her arm and escort her out of the room. "I do. I have a patrol at half past one, but prior to that we are quite free." It was unusual, he knew, but he could not be bothered by that at the moment: he thought his father had left him free to spend time with Anastasia. If that were the case, his father had done something right. Why bother questioning it?

"And are you enjoying your stay thus far?" Damocles said as he took her arm. He knew her brother was sick, but he did not want to pry into so painful a topic if he could avoid it.
Edited by Damocles Faye, Nov 9 2010, 09:44 PM.
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...time is a valuable thing; watch it fly by as the pendulum swings...
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Anastasia Zytsev
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Anastasia looked over her gown, pleased herself at how it looked. Today's was a casual dress, but one that was a deep, forest green that she felt looked very Russian with her skin. In this time period, getting dressed as so fun. There was all the different pieces, and skirts flowed around her feet in ways that really did make her feel like a princess...

She only missed showers. Bathing just wasn't the same here, and the soap was pretty rough. Thank merlin for hygiene spells, at least.

"Thank you." His offered arm she just took gently, making sure she had her wand on her. "Until after lunch it is then. You know, I am enjoying my stay. Everything is so different here than it would be at home and I'm enjoying the experience. You have a lovely place."
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Damocles Faye
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Delighted by her words as much as her visage, Damocles tucked her arm to his side and let the door shut behind them as they began to walk down the hallway. Now he was ignorant of their surroundings; he saw neither the maid running by with a bouquet of flowers nor the serving boy cleaning the windows.His mind and focus was entirely on the gorgeous woman standing beside him.

"I'm glad. Is it really that different?" He asked, as greatly interested as he was flattered. "I haven't been able to travel as much as I would like, for obvious reasons. I have seen a fair part of France, but most of my knowledge outside Faye comes from the visitors that come here. I'd be delighted to know more..."

He was pushing open the door to the outside as he spoke, already well aware of precisely where he was headed in town. To be more accurate, he was headed to the edge of town, where he knew of a pick-up game of tennis.
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...time is a valuable thing; watch it fly by as the pendulum swings...
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