|
|
Post by Maestro on Jan 10, 2009 2:45:19 GMT -5
Iseabail sat at her piano, planning her concert. It was her farewell (at least outwardly, but hopefully to herself, as well) to Armand, which meant that everything had to be perfect. Yes, those songs would work well even though they were part of a mortal's repertoire.
All right. She had chosen the songs, now it was time to choose the date, but she would need to talk to Annie about that. Now she could relax. Or as much as she was able, under the circumstances.
And what better way to relax than by playing the piano? With a slight smile, Iseabail pulled out her music for Beethoven's Pathetique Sonata and began to play.
|
|
|
|
Post by Miss Jack on Jan 10, 2009 2:55:44 GMT -5
Iker entered the Opera House as Atropia Belladonna. Well known enough that no one would stop him, and the diva had a certain air about her that sent the lesser opera workers scurrying from his path. When he entered the hallway containing the living quarters, his form shifted into Iseabail's, on the off chance someone should see him entering her room.
Music drifted out; all the better, he woudn't have to wait to find her.
He opened the door and all but glided past the threshold, letting Iseabail's form melt away, revealing his own shock of blonde hair; black eyes, and recently, somewhat gaunt features.
|
|
|
|
Post by Maestro on Jan 10, 2009 3:05:31 GMT -5
As soon as Iker entered her room, Iseabail knew that she was no longer alone. Without turning around, she stopped playing, long enough to say "Aye?" It wouldn't be Armand; that would basically be torture, especially with this concert in the works.
But who else could it be? She supposed it could be one of the de Zorros, but one of them would have burst in noticeably, not noiselessly as this person had. Rather than resuming playing, she turned on her piano bench, still seated.
The sight that met her eyes quite frankly astonished her. "Iker?" she said, surprised. "What are ye doing here?" she asked, amazed to find that, after all that had happened, she was still rather drawn to him; she didn't even notice that she had stood up and taken a step toward him. Well, this was going to be interesting.
|
|
|
|
Post by Miss Jack on Jan 10, 2009 3:20:34 GMT -5
His mouth creased into a grim smile. "No fear, Iseabail?" He lifted a finger, wagging it in disapproval. "Curiosity killed the Scot."
He sauntered further into the room, appearing interested in the furnishings-- which in a way he was; he'd never been in Iseabail's room before.
"I'm just here to... pay a visit. Catch up, like old times."
|
|
|
|
Post by Maestro on Jan 10, 2009 3:33:13 GMT -5
With a bit of laugh, she raised an eyebrow. "I dinna recall when I've been afraid of ye on my own behalf, Iker." Taking another cautious step towards him, she put a hand on her hip, grimly amused. "Aye, weel, I'd rather be killed by curiosity than live with boring." And that was certainly true. Iker might have thought that she was a bit boring, the last time they spoke, but things were a bit different now. For one thing, Iseabail's wardrobe had become much more modern and it suited her well.
She noticed his interest in her rooms and laughed again. "Like what ye see?" she asked, tone a mixture of curiosity and what might be called teasing. Apparently, ever since Iker had tinkered with her mind, Iseabail was not afraid of what he might do to her. As a result, she had spoken her mind.
"Och, is tha' all?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Miss Jack on Jan 10, 2009 3:44:50 GMT -5
"In a way," he mused, half to himself, "it bothers me that you aren't properly afraid. But then, I suppose you've never been properly educated." He turned to her, with the same sort of darkish smile. "In good time, though."
He sat backward on the piano bench, still facing Iseabail. He reached a hand over and played out a few measures of a nameless song. "In fact, Iseabail, that is all. Hard as it may be to believe, I don't have many social calls to attend to."
|
|
|
|
Post by Maestro on Jan 10, 2009 3:55:54 GMT -5
"Are ye planning to ... educate me, then?" she asked, flashing him a dark smile of her own. Well, this was a side of the opera star that Iker had never seen before. Wait a moment .... in good time, he'd said. Was he planning to stick around, then? She didn't know what she felt about that, but it wasn't entirely bad.
She relaxed more than she had been as he played; piano music almost always soothed her. Sitting down on a chair near the piano, she cocked her head at Iker. "Why choose me? is probably a better question, then." She hadn't gotten the impression that he liked her very much, from their last meeting. It would certainly be ... intriguing, to say the least, if she had been wrong.
|
|
|
|
Post by Miss Jack on Jan 10, 2009 4:16:22 GMT -5
Iseabail's first impression of him had been utterly correct, and if she was wise, she would go with her initial, confused instinct. But Iker knew people-- having a talent for imitation, as it were, and he knew she wouldn't dismiss what anyone else would see as an obvious danger.
Honestly... why did she think he chose her? Everything, even after he'd finally separated himself, seemed to be about godforsaken Armand. She was, like it or not, his closest link to the heir apparent, without being close to him.
These were, after all, desperate times.... and soon, desperate actions would need to be taken.
"Why not you, Iseabail? I hardly know anyone else. Rather I'd picked Zizzy?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Maestro on Jan 10, 2009 4:43:00 GMT -5
At his mention of Zizzy, Iseabail's eyes narrowed, not pleased. "Do no mention her name in my presence," she fairly hissed. Her complacence about the other woman had finally turned to anger and oh was she furious. "If I ever get my hands on tha' scheming little bitch...," she trailed off, voice little more than a growl.
She tossed her head, anger brewing. Hands on her hips, she glared around the room, looking for something on which to wreck her vengeance.
|
|
|
|
Post by Miss Jack on Jan 10, 2009 4:58:44 GMT -5
Iker laughed outrightly at Iseabail's reaction. She probably hated Zizzy as much as he hated Armand. And so they were united, together, hating the same couple, though in different ways. Admittedly, he had a mix of emotions concerning Zizzy-- not all of them negative. They'd slept together, after all, and he'd quite enjoyed himself-- part, but not all, of it stemming from taking something belonging to Armand. And he would dare to wager not all of Iseabail's lingering thoughts of Armand were negative either. It was... an interesting situation they were in, to say the least.
"Understood," he purred. "I'll try not to mention her again, except in the most condescending manner."
|
|
|
|
Post by Maestro on Jan 10, 2009 5:09:05 GMT -5
If Iseabail had known what Iker was thinking, it was entirely possible she would have laughed outright. Yet the bit about Zizzy and Iker sleeping together would have just disturbed her; it was ... disgusting, almost, enough to think about Zizzy and Armand, especially considering the fact that Zizzy was pregnant. Already.
"Aye, weel, ye had better remember tha'," she muttered, standing up. "If ye do no, I dinna ken what I'll do to ye," she said, looking down at Iker from her higher vantage point. Yes, she had just threatened him. It might not be very effective, but she would at least attempt to follow through with that threat.
|
|
|
|
Post by Miss Jack on Jan 10, 2009 20:10:34 GMT -5
He arched a doubtful brow. The idea of Iseabail being capable of the skill required to threaten him was in itself laughable, but her own delusion was particularly priceless.
"I'll keep it in mind," he said dryly.
He stood to his feet and circled around her, tracing a pale finger at a spot below her collarbone. "But on the same subject... how is the old ticker? Bleeding, still?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Maestro on Jan 12, 2009 0:38:24 GMT -5
Iseabail hadn't been talking about physical force, no; she could figure out ways to make Iker suffer, somehow. Even if she couldn't, she wasn't about to let him know of her doubts. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, expression proud. There were many people that would not be able to tell that she was at all doubtful of herself.
She only nodded, eyes dubious. But it didn't really matter what he did; she would deal with him when things happened.
"Much better, thank ye," she said, lying only slightly. While it was true that things were better, she still wasn't the same as she had been before Armand. Thinking about him still stabbed her slightly, but she was determined to get back to normal. If things could ever be normal, but that was what this concert was for. She would give the concert and then resume her life, Armand-less and happy. Or as happy as she could be.
|
|
|
|
Post by Miss Jack on Jan 12, 2009 22:17:14 GMT -5
Iker declined his chin by a fraction of an inch-- his version of an acknowledgement to her admission. He'd been hoping for perhaps a bit more bitterness. Things would prove easier if he had assurance of Iseabail's loathing for the elder prince. Still, there was time to persuade her to his way of thinking. She clearly had disdain for Zizzy; creating a similar disdain for Armand shouldn't be hard.
"I'm sure you're ready to... move to greener fields," he recommended.
|
|
|
|
Post by Maestro on Jan 13, 2009 1:13:11 GMT -5
She laughed a bit bitterly. "Greener fields, ye say? Who would ye suggest?" Any man Iseabail was interested in almost had to be musical. It was in her blood (no pun intended), after all. And she had not really been the same since the day that Bela had practically broken down her door, but she was determined to be herself again.
Iseabail was a proud woman; she did not need a man to complete her. And she would show that to the world. At the same time, she craved some sort of companionship; it was so hard to play all of these romantic roles and have no one to go home to. Maybe that was why getting over Armand was taking so long. Well, now that she had actually figured that out, hopefully her heart would really start to heal.
"I understand now," she said quietly. She would elaborate if he asked, but until then, she'd keep her revelations to herself.
|
|
