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Post by Maestro on May 17, 2008 14:12:26 GMT -5
Later that night, after Armand's visit, Iseabail made her way to the cathedral. She couldn't seem to sit still, not with her heart torn in two different directions. It was almost all she could do to actually go to pray.
At the same time, she didn't know if she could pray, at the moment. Her mind was so conflicted, but she was going to try. Kneeling, she laced her fingers together and placed them to her forehead. She wasn't even sure what she was trying to pray for, but hopefully the peace of the cathedral would soothe her battered soul.
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Post by Miss Jack on May 17, 2008 14:22:24 GMT -5
ooc; I'm just going to say that this takes place before The Theory. n.n;
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Like a whisper in the back of her mind, a voice spoke, as cold and ugly as broken ice:
Praying won't help you, Iseabail.
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Post by Maestro on May 17, 2008 14:38:02 GMT -5
ooc; Perfectly fine with me!
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She knew that voice. Even though she had only heard it on that mountain pass, she knew it.
"Hullo, Iker," she murmured, eyes still closed, still kneeling. "I knew ye would find me sooner or later; it's not in your nature to lay quiet, is it?" Instead of standing as she had intended, Iseabail slipped into a sort of meditative state, something that occasionally happened when she was in the cathedral, trying to pray.
"What do ye want?" she asked softly, her voice gentle. Some people might call her crazy for trying to get to know Iker, but that wouldn't stop her; she was going to try, at the very least.
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Post by Miss Jack on May 17, 2008 14:44:29 GMT -5
Ah. It's so refreshing to hear someone remember how to behave civil. In fact, Iseabail, I want nothing more than to chat. And in this vein of politeness, I assume you wouldn't mind conversing... face to face?
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Post by Maestro on May 17, 2008 14:51:40 GMT -5
Ah, a conversation face-to-face. Well, why not? The only time she'd seen him, he had been using Armand's form. Perhaps he preferred a different style of dress or hair, who knew?
"Aye, all right," she murmured. "I'm assuming that I must be asleep for that to happen, aye?" she asked, knowing already that it was true. It wasn't a stretch for Iseabail to will herself to slip into a light slumber.
"I'm here, Iker," she said quietly, opening her subconscious to him. She was practically telling him do with me what you will, but it might be the only way to understand and get to know him.
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Post by Miss Jack on May 17, 2008 14:59:14 GMT -5
"I'm slightly surprised, Miss MacDonald."
The atmosphere bloomed with dusky light. Iker had weaved a lavish scene, a long table decorated with fine foods and finer ornaments of wealth. He sat at one head, and she at the other, dressed, to his preference, in a deep crimson gown reminiscent of the Renaissance.
"Though I suppose the feeling is mutual. You haven't tried to kill me, love me, or trap me within your own body, so I daresay we have every reason to get along. Of course, you'll have to forgive me for disliking you in general. It's just Armand's feelings run quite the opposite, and we are rarely in accord."
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Post by Maestro on May 17, 2008 15:21:35 GMT -5
"Feel free if ye want to call me Iseabail," she murmured, looking around at the scene. This was different than what she had imagined, although, she wasn't quite sure what that was, at the moment. She glanced down at her dress, an involuntary smile tugging her lips upward. "Weel, I'll say one thing for ye; ye've got good taste."
She thought for a moment, wondering what she could say to him. Although the situation was remarkably like Jekyll and Hyde, she didn't think that he'd appreciate her mentioning that. "Aye, weel, perhaps ye should set aside what Armand thinks and judge me for yerself." After all, she was doing that. "Ye aren't Armand, really; why should ye use Armand's feelings to decide wha' yours are?" She smiled slightly, wryly amused by herself. "If I were to think of ye as Armand, I'd be saying something that isna quite true, and I dinna think ye want to hear tha'."
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Post by Miss Jack on May 17, 2008 15:36:21 GMT -5
His charming smile tightened and his head tipped ever so slightly. "Thank you, Iseabail. The thing is, I despise Armand with everything I am, and if he loves someone, I am instantly repulsed by it. And if we were to go off first impressions, then you would be the simpering, boring girl in love with Prince Charming. Typical, annoying and not worth the breath it would take to kill you."
He said all of this without the tiniest inflection, his expression still stuck in that amiable smile. "To your credit, I am considering reconsidering my opinions due to your unexplainable deference towards me."
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Post by Maestro on May 17, 2008 16:05:26 GMT -5
Iseabail laughed, genuinely amused. "If we were to go by first impressions, I should be terrified of ye, shouldn't I? How do ye explain tha' I'm no?" This was definitely a dangerous game she was playing, but she would play it until something either happened or she got somewhere.
Steepling her fingers together, Iseabail placed her hands just under her chin, expression unreadable. "Ye think I'm typical, simpering, and boring, do ye? Weel, I suppose it is rather 'typical' to try to help save the life of the one ye love, so ye've got me there. And if you think because I was trying to save him that I'm simpering, ye've got me there, too. And ye probably think I'm annoying because I do love Armand; ye find love in general to be annoying, don't ye?"
"Och, I appreciate your consideration," she said dryly, half-joking, half-serious.
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Post by Miss Jack on May 17, 2008 16:14:21 GMT -5
He cringed, his smile finally slipping. "It's a bit more than annoying, I think, but sure. We'll say that."
His elbows rested on the table and as he leaned forward over his empty plate toward her, the table shrunk. Now they were within touching distance. "I do have you, on all counts." He sat back, frowning. "Why do you think you're here, Iseabail?"
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Post by Maestro on May 17, 2008 16:26:46 GMT -5
There were many things she could say to Iker about the subject of love, but she didn't want to antagonize him; she wanted to talk to him. Letting the subject drop, she nodded, conceding to his statement, at lesat for the time being.
She didn't lean back as he closed the distance between them, without moving an inch, but she didn't move forward, either. Iseabail stayed where she was, folded hands still underneath her chin. "So ye do," she murmured, nodding again. "Och, and I'm probably here so ye can try to kill me or at least scare me away." Away from what, she didn't say, but then, she hadn't told him what her plan was, in the first place. Well, not so much 'plan' as it was 'intention.' If she was wrong about why he had wanted to speak to her, though, then she didn't have a clue why she was here.
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Post by Miss Jack on May 17, 2008 17:04:47 GMT -5
He wagged a finger at her. "No killing you in your mind, darling, unfortunately." A cruel smile stretched over his face. "Trust me, you wouldn't still be here. And scare you away? From what, my dear?"
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Post by Maestro on May 17, 2008 17:41:10 GMT -5
"Och, of course," she said, hitting herself on the head. "If ye could kill me in my mind, I'd be dead already; what was I thinking?" she asked, semi-sarcastically. Now, now, Iseabail, it isn't the time for sarcasm.
Well, she didn't know what he was talking about anymore. "Weel, I suppose ye'd try to scare me away from both ye and Armand; I dinna exactly ken." She shrugged, pulling her hair away from her shoulders. "Why don't you tell me why ye wanted to speak with me?" He was a bit like Scarpia; they both liked to play mind games with their potential prey.
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Post by Miss Jack on May 18, 2008 22:30:23 GMT -5
He steepled his hands together, rippling his fingertips against each other like a comic book villian. His lips curled into a cruel smile and he waited a moment before answering. "Scare you away from Armand? What a notion. As a matter of fact, Iseabail," he ran a finger along the tabletop thoughtfully, "I am here to know you better, to better understand my enemies weak points."
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Post by Maestro on May 19, 2008 0:38:06 GMT -5
She watched him closely, wondering if she would be able to read him. No, not yet, anyway; she could read Armand for the most part, but at the moment, Iker was still a mystery.
"Ye consider me to be an enemy?" she asked, slightly intrigued by that. "Why? I havena done anything to warrant being considered your enemy." She paused for a moment, then added, "And I dinna think that ye will be able to understand Armand's weak points by talking to me." Well, Iker was certainly not what she had expected, but whether that was good or bad, she couldn't quite tell just yet.
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