Post by Jules on Aug 16, 2008 21:34:25 GMT -5
[It's utter shit! yayyyy!]
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“How many times a day does he say it?” Illie asked, a dreamy smile on her face that indicated Simon said ‘it’ quite often. Most of the other women simply looked disgruntled.
“Not as much as I tell him I hate him.” (Henriette)
“Mostly when I’m about to bite off his head.”(Pia)
“He said I was kind of tolerable the other day.” (Mary)
“Oh.” Illie blushed a little because the three others looked like they would be devilvering a Stern Talking To when they got back to their respective beaus (“Do you know how many times Simon tells Illie he loves her? Hmmmm?”) except maybe Mary who would probably be more bothered if Vince started saying that he loved her.
“You know he does.”
“No, Pia, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t.”
“Well, okay, maybe not love, but he cares about you.”
“Not as much as the huge piece of fabric he sleeps under.”
Illie interrupted because she could sense the conversation heading towards an awkward silence. She had a sixth sense about these kinds of things. “Okayokay, but they’ve all done something sweet for us, right? They’re not completely irredeemable, even Vince.”
“Johnny did buy me those flowers the other day.”
“Jack did empty out the castle of brood for our anniversary.”
“See? Simon helped me stitch myself back together the other day, and took the kids off my hands.”
“Mary?”
“I can’t think of anything okay?”
“Surely, something?”
“Nope.”
“There’s got to be something. Why do you stick around? You have enough money to move now.”
Mary almost (almost) glared at Illie before remembering who was speaking and that the dream didn’t mean any harm. Mary sighed and shrugged.
“Can I have some tea?”
Pia, who in a rare moment, felt kind of bad that Mary wasn’t able to share in on the whole ‘he’s so sweet’ conversation decided to change tracks.
“Jack always makes me feel disgusting for drinking blood.” This was an easier bandwagon for Henriette to jump on too. “Johnny’s always checking out other women.” Mary grinned, grateful. “Vince is a surly jerk all the time.”
Illie waffled, grinning slightly nervously as three pairs of eyes turned to her.
“Illie?”
“I can’t think of anything, okay?”
“Surely, something?”
“…No?”
“That’s not fair.”
“How come you get the only perfect one?”
“Oh! He’s not perfect. Sometimes he’s too protective of me. It’s like he thinks I can’t do anything on my own.”
“Illie?”
“Yes?”
“That’s sweet. And cute, and endearing.”
“It can be kind of frustrating sometimes?”
“Illie, just go get the tea.”
“Okay.” She shuffled off, blushing a little because she probably should having something to complain about. Almost wished she did so they wouldn’t be jealous, but she just couldn’t think of anything that Simon did to really upset her. While the dream was gone, the three other women exchanged looks.
“Some people get all the luck.” Henriette said, sighing.
“I love Jack, but sometimes I wish I’d never met him.”
Mary nodded. Sometimes she thought coming to the circus and it actually being abandoned would’ve been a Godsend. But nothing in life was ever simple. At least not in hers. Illie seemed to have a sugar-coating on hers.
When she came back with the tea, she set it on the coffee table between them all and handed out cups to a chorus of thank you’s.
“Alright, at the very least we can all agree that in their own way, they’re good men.” Pia said, with a touch of hope in her voice. Henriette shrugged, “I guess. I just wish he could be a good man without staring at the waitress’ ass.”
“Simon is a good man.”
“We know.” Three voices said at once.
“Vince is good, under a whole lot of nasty. He cares for his friends a lot more then he shows.”
“They’re not always easy to love, are they?”
“I don’t love Vince.” Mary argued.
“Sure you don’t.” Pia said, waving a hand dismissively, but giving off the subtle indication that she didn’t really believe Mary.
“At the very least they’re all good looking.” Said Henriette with a smile.
Illie nodded excitedly. Looks had nothing to do with morals, so they could all find common ground here! “Simon’s got this way of smiling---” “Jack gets this look in his eyes—” “Johnny has the sexiest growl.”
“Vince smells like old.”
There was a silence for a moment before they all burst out laughing.
The afternoon passed in warm conversation, good tea, and good friends.
“How long does she take?”
“Hours, mate.”
“Ya, well, try days.”
“Illie’ll take about an hour or so?”
“Singular? Zounds.”
“We don’t go out.” Vince muttered, kind of wishing the conversation hadn’t taken this turn because honestly he didn’t have anything to add. Not that being silent really bothered him.
“Henriette always gets pissed when I look at other women.”
“…and?”
“Well, come on. It’s not like I’m not allowed to look, mate. Doesn’t mean I’m going to touch. It’s like a museum…you know.”
Three pairs of eyes rolled and Johnny muttered something dark about whips and castration.
“So your gals are so bloody perfect you don’t even look?” the werewolf asked, somewhat awed (although he’d never admit it).
“Pia is far from perfect.” Jack sneered a little, “She drinks blood. Eugh.”
“She’s a vampire.”
“Still.”
“Illie falls apart sometimes, but it doesn’t really bother me.”
“Of course it doesn’t.”
“Vince?”
“What?”
“Nothing annoys you about Mary?”
“Everything annoys me about Mary. I’m not going to rattle off the long, long list.”
“Pick one.”
“She takes everything out of context.”
Johnny gave an exaggerated yawn. “Your love life is more boring then Simon’s.” (“Hey!”) Vince glared. “My love life? Right.”
“Besides, who needs to look at other women when I’ve got Pia?”
“I don’t ever check out women.”
“Henriette’s plenty hot, but zounds have you seen the new waitress at the Carpe?”
Vince just sipped his drink and tried to zone out.
“Mary’s not that bad.” But of course, they had to drag him back in.
“I never noticed.” He replied truthfully.
“Right.”
Johnny, who was tired of the tame quality to their conversation, decided to bring it up a notch. “Henriette does this thing with her hands…” He closed his eyes in reminiscence, a rakish grin spreading.
Blushing a little Simon said “Illie’s very….flexible.”
“Pia’s….versatile.” The all chuckled slightly embarrassed (except for Johnny) but knowing chuckles. Of course, Vince remained stony and silent.
They grinned and Johnny refilled everyone’s glasses.
The evening degraded into crude jokes and worse walks down memory lane. Most of them were glad that by morning they wouldn’t remember half of what they’d said. Except for Vince, who’d remained sober. Who remembered everything. And who, although he wouldn’t admit it, was just a little scarred.
-----------------
“How many times a day does he say it?” Illie asked, a dreamy smile on her face that indicated Simon said ‘it’ quite often. Most of the other women simply looked disgruntled.
“Not as much as I tell him I hate him.” (Henriette)
“Mostly when I’m about to bite off his head.”(Pia)
“He said I was kind of tolerable the other day.” (Mary)
“Oh.” Illie blushed a little because the three others looked like they would be devilvering a Stern Talking To when they got back to their respective beaus (“Do you know how many times Simon tells Illie he loves her? Hmmmm?”) except maybe Mary who would probably be more bothered if Vince started saying that he loved her.
“You know he does.”
“No, Pia, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t.”
“Well, okay, maybe not love, but he cares about you.”
“Not as much as the huge piece of fabric he sleeps under.”
Illie interrupted because she could sense the conversation heading towards an awkward silence. She had a sixth sense about these kinds of things. “Okayokay, but they’ve all done something sweet for us, right? They’re not completely irredeemable, even Vince.”
“Johnny did buy me those flowers the other day.”
“Jack did empty out the castle of brood for our anniversary.”
“See? Simon helped me stitch myself back together the other day, and took the kids off my hands.”
“Mary?”
“I can’t think of anything okay?”
“Surely, something?”
“Nope.”
“There’s got to be something. Why do you stick around? You have enough money to move now.”
Mary almost (almost) glared at Illie before remembering who was speaking and that the dream didn’t mean any harm. Mary sighed and shrugged.
“Can I have some tea?”
Pia, who in a rare moment, felt kind of bad that Mary wasn’t able to share in on the whole ‘he’s so sweet’ conversation decided to change tracks.
“Jack always makes me feel disgusting for drinking blood.” This was an easier bandwagon for Henriette to jump on too. “Johnny’s always checking out other women.” Mary grinned, grateful. “Vince is a surly jerk all the time.”
Illie waffled, grinning slightly nervously as three pairs of eyes turned to her.
“Illie?”
“I can’t think of anything, okay?”
“Surely, something?”
“…No?”
“That’s not fair.”
“How come you get the only perfect one?”
“Oh! He’s not perfect. Sometimes he’s too protective of me. It’s like he thinks I can’t do anything on my own.”
“Illie?”
“Yes?”
“That’s sweet. And cute, and endearing.”
“It can be kind of frustrating sometimes?”
“Illie, just go get the tea.”
“Okay.” She shuffled off, blushing a little because she probably should having something to complain about. Almost wished she did so they wouldn’t be jealous, but she just couldn’t think of anything that Simon did to really upset her. While the dream was gone, the three other women exchanged looks.
“Some people get all the luck.” Henriette said, sighing.
“I love Jack, but sometimes I wish I’d never met him.”
Mary nodded. Sometimes she thought coming to the circus and it actually being abandoned would’ve been a Godsend. But nothing in life was ever simple. At least not in hers. Illie seemed to have a sugar-coating on hers.
When she came back with the tea, she set it on the coffee table between them all and handed out cups to a chorus of thank you’s.
“Alright, at the very least we can all agree that in their own way, they’re good men.” Pia said, with a touch of hope in her voice. Henriette shrugged, “I guess. I just wish he could be a good man without staring at the waitress’ ass.”
“Simon is a good man.”
“We know.” Three voices said at once.
“Vince is good, under a whole lot of nasty. He cares for his friends a lot more then he shows.”
“They’re not always easy to love, are they?”
“I don’t love Vince.” Mary argued.
“Sure you don’t.” Pia said, waving a hand dismissively, but giving off the subtle indication that she didn’t really believe Mary.
“At the very least they’re all good looking.” Said Henriette with a smile.
Illie nodded excitedly. Looks had nothing to do with morals, so they could all find common ground here! “Simon’s got this way of smiling---” “Jack gets this look in his eyes—” “Johnny has the sexiest growl.”
“Vince smells like old.”
There was a silence for a moment before they all burst out laughing.
The afternoon passed in warm conversation, good tea, and good friends.
“How long does she take?”
“Hours, mate.”
“Ya, well, try days.”
“Illie’ll take about an hour or so?”
“Singular? Zounds.”
“We don’t go out.” Vince muttered, kind of wishing the conversation hadn’t taken this turn because honestly he didn’t have anything to add. Not that being silent really bothered him.
“Henriette always gets pissed when I look at other women.”
“…and?”
“Well, come on. It’s not like I’m not allowed to look, mate. Doesn’t mean I’m going to touch. It’s like a museum…you know.”
Three pairs of eyes rolled and Johnny muttered something dark about whips and castration.
“So your gals are so bloody perfect you don’t even look?” the werewolf asked, somewhat awed (although he’d never admit it).
“Pia is far from perfect.” Jack sneered a little, “She drinks blood. Eugh.”
“She’s a vampire.”
“Still.”
“Illie falls apart sometimes, but it doesn’t really bother me.”
“Of course it doesn’t.”
“Vince?”
“What?”
“Nothing annoys you about Mary?”
“Everything annoys me about Mary. I’m not going to rattle off the long, long list.”
“Pick one.”
“She takes everything out of context.”
Johnny gave an exaggerated yawn. “Your love life is more boring then Simon’s.” (“Hey!”) Vince glared. “My love life? Right.”
“Besides, who needs to look at other women when I’ve got Pia?”
“I don’t ever check out women.”
“Henriette’s plenty hot, but zounds have you seen the new waitress at the Carpe?”
Vince just sipped his drink and tried to zone out.
“Mary’s not that bad.” But of course, they had to drag him back in.
“I never noticed.” He replied truthfully.
“Right.”
Johnny, who was tired of the tame quality to their conversation, decided to bring it up a notch. “Henriette does this thing with her hands…” He closed his eyes in reminiscence, a rakish grin spreading.
Blushing a little Simon said “Illie’s very….flexible.”
“Pia’s….versatile.” The all chuckled slightly embarrassed (except for Johnny) but knowing chuckles. Of course, Vince remained stony and silent.
They grinned and Johnny refilled everyone’s glasses.
The evening degraded into crude jokes and worse walks down memory lane. Most of them were glad that by morning they wouldn’t remember half of what they’d said. Except for Vince, who’d remained sober. Who remembered everything. And who, although he wouldn’t admit it, was just a little scarred.