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#1 |
Eidolon of a Took
Join Date: Sep 2002
Location: my own private fantasy world
Posts: 3,460
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Skittles got sidetracked on her way to her quarters by a procession of large cats singing in six part harmony.
Not really. She reached the room that had been provided to her upon her arrival at the Mount Doom Palace and Casino and threw open her trunk. She had to dig through several layers of silk and taffeta to reach the pleather and spandex, but dug right past those cheap imitations to get to the real thing at the bottom. She pulled out a black catsuit and smiled. When she left her room, she was a different woman. Sort of. She was still ten feet away from sane, but instead of skipping or waltzing along, she lurked from corner to corner. Like a cat, only on two feet. Most of the time, anyway; sometimes she crawled, but only when she really felt like it. She met a few hapless orcs along the way, whom she had to silence lest they talked. Talked to whom, about what, no one besides Skittles really knows, but she felt that this was of the utmost importance. A quick snick of the switchblade and they went down before even knowing what had sliced them. She sidestepped a trail of fingers rolling down the hallway and reentered the negotiation room unseen and unheard by all. (In truth, everyone saw her, but no one really cared.) Gliding like liquid oil, she sidled up to Dracomir and said in a low, menacing voice, “Do you feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?” He turned slowly and looked at her as if she had sprouted an extra head, so she reached up to feel her neck and shoulders, just to make sure. Nope, she thought, somewhat disappointed. Still just the one. |
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#2 |
Byronic Brand
Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: The 1590s
Posts: 2,778
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Tom surveyed Skittles with an even, patronising gaze. He did, he admitted to himself, think the black leather rather more tasteful than the former hideously bright melange that the star of the Mordorian Foreign Office had preferred wearing before...now that Alli had left, he was strictly tempted to respond with "As a matter fact, yes" followed by a quick Full Body Bind Curse, but he rejected the plan for the moment as overcomplicating an already convoluted situation.
Time for a charm offensive. "Why, Skittles, you look ravishing," he said. "Positively, ah, oakish. Doesn't she, Maika?" he added with a step back, only to find that Maika was no longer in the immediate vicinity. "Ah, well, take my word for it. My lady, if an oak tree had decided to take up a career in stealth, cunning and assassination, it would be...your very spitting image." Another step back. "So, um, Skittles, do you know anything about this Lola character who's going to be joining us?" He kept his left hand clenched tightly in his robe's inside pocket, his wand ready to be out. Just in case. Smalltalk with this maiden could be quite tricky, and he really didn't like getting hurt. |
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#3 |
Eidolon of a Took
Join Date: Sep 2002
Location: my own private fantasy world
Posts: 3,460
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Skittles felt an odd twinge, and blinked. Something nagging in the back of her head told her that she was angry as this incredibly pale boy standing next to her, but she couldn’t quite remember the reason. Did this have anything to do with the unfortunate breath mint incident? No, that had happened last month, and was taken care of...
She shook her head, and heard the end of Dracomir’s question. “Yeah, I know her,” she said. “Her name is Lola, she was a showgirl with yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there at the Copa, Copacabana, the hottest spot north of Havana, where music and passion were always the fashion. Then she got into administrative assistance, and the rest, as they say, is historically inaccurate.” Dracomir nodded, and made a noncommittal noise as if debating whether or not to believe what she was saying. Skittles wrinkled her forehead and said, “You are a very charming boy, but I think I came here to carve my initials onto your face. Can you do me a favor and remind me why?” |
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#4 |
Byronic Brand
Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: The 1590s
Posts: 2,778
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Dracomir was rather relieved. His tactics of distracting Skittles from her original purpose, if not making her altogether forget it, seemed to be working.
"I can't say I ever knew why," he replied. "You were obviously far too cunning and intelligent to tell me of your, ah, motives. Planning to take me by surprise, that sort of thing." What Skittles had told him of Lola was interesting. So she was a sort of Mordor good-time girl. "Everyone likes Lola," Ms. Martinet had said. Certainly, he could see a possible clash of character. The stern secretary was probably unwilling to tolerate chorus-girls. Well, now they had only this woman to wait for before their audience with the King... In the meantime, Skittles had to be kept relatively calm and somewhat less switchblade happy. Tom thought that trying to converse with her own exceptional eclecticism might just work. "Skittles," he asked, "what's your favourite colour?" |
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#5 |
Hauntress of the Havens
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: IN it, but not OF it
Posts: 2,538
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"My lady, you seem worried about your fair complexion in the presence of the boorish King Roggie," Dracomir's voice cut into Maika's worried thoughts. "As you can see, I suffer from a similar problem. It's a clear sign of nobility of blood. I often find a Disillusionment Charm can help lessen the effect of exposure...would you allow me to help?"
Nobility? Maika almost laughed, but caught herself. Nobility. It was funny. Or was it? Without realizing it she was soon turning the word over and over in her head, but a quick sight of the waiting Gondorian made her stop. "I would advise you against speaking ill of Roggie in the presence of a Mordorian, sire," she replied with a slight glare. "And as for your offer, you're welcome to try. But don't say I didn't warn you." "Warn me of what?" Dracomir drew his wand from inside his robe anyway, and without waiting for an appropriate response started waving it towards her...when Alli came to her, uh, rescue. "Malfoidacil, please refrain from casting spells upon my workers, no matter how clever you find your charm work to be. Maika, I will speak to Buildings and Grounds workers about it. More likely will be that we'll merely have to open a window. If you like, I have skin cream that works wonders, and it is not even from Panakeia." Maika sneaked a smug look over at Dracomir as Alli rebuked him, and turned to Alli with a blank stare at her offer. Sighing inwardly in relief that the product was not from the infamous Panakeia, she decided to accept it. She doubted it would work, but who knows? After Alli had given their orders and asked Dracomir (Tom?) to what seemed like a date, Maika quietly followed her out of the room. She caught her a short distance down the corridor. "Alli," she almost whispered, "so, can I give this skin cream a try?" Asking help from an ex-Balrog winger? Maika could not believe the depth to which she had fallen. |
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#6 |
Eidolon of a Took
Join Date: Sep 2002
Location: my own private fantasy world
Posts: 3,460
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"What's your favorite colour?"
Surely, Dracomir had no idea how disasterous a question this would have been to ask giddy-Skittles. He would have doomed himself to a detailed description of every color in the rainbow, and the many variations of said colors. Luckily, she was in leather-mode and simply responded: "Black and red, the colors of blood." "Oh. How nice," Dracomir replied. She leaned closely and asked, "Tell me, Draco-packo, do you dream in color... or black and white?" |
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#7 |
Byronic Brand
Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: The 1590s
Posts: 2,778
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Tom was slightly disconcerted-by the increasing proximity to him of Skittles-and her knives-but at least the conversation they had strayed onto seemed comparatively harmless.
"Actually," he answered, his right hand sweeping through his adorable hair, "I don't dream that much. I have a bit of a case of insomnia, as it happens, and the Occlumency practice and stuff doesn't help. If you want to talk to some dream-obsessed drip, you'll be wanting that Potter boy." Now, for a change, Skittles looked confused. "Who?" "Oh, you wouldn't know him," Dracomir answered sourly. "He's idolised as a role-model by too many small children to ever get Assigned...twerp of a celebrity..." Once again, the Lord Malfoidacil had to breathe deeply and suppress his violent emotions before he could speak again. He had acquired new powers since he had last met Daniel Radcliffe, terrible new powers...if they ever met again...Tom grinned viciously. Then a new thought for destressing occurred to him, and he took a strange device-two sticks, attached by a string, with an hour-glass shaped lump of yellow plastic suspended between them. "Have you ever seen one of these? It's called a Diabolo..." |
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