Post by cedarchip on Feb 16, 2012 12:00:30 GMT -5
Pulled out of their lives, was it? Certainly an interesting theory, Erik mused. And it would make sense of things. He clasped his gloved hands behind his back, debating on whether to leave the two girls to chat and continue looking for an exit or to interrupt them and demand what in the seven hells was going on, when Little Margot's eyes were suddenly upon him.
His lips parted uneasily when she turned as white as a sheet and clutched her throat. The crimson blood on her hands was a stark contrast to her skin, immediately drawing his eyes to her throat in interest. A small composition started to play itself out in his head at the sight and he softly hummed a note or two, immensely satisfied with the piece. Curses went to the fact he hadn't found a piano or any semblance of an instrument in this damned castle.
Wait- what? Margot had started to say "Master", hadn't she…? Erik narrowed his odd-colored eyes at his savior's daughter. "Beg pardon, Mademoiselle but-," he started to say indignantly, but he cut himself off when she started to ask rudely about his identity. Who was he? "I would think it obvious, Madamoiselle." Why he looked so much like who? The silly girl wasn't making any sense.
He swept back his cape in an elaborate bow, keeping his odd eyes trained warningly on Margot's face. "Le Fantôme de l'Opéra at your service," Erik coldly introduced himself, making sure that he was only talking to Margot
"And I am sure I have no idea of who you're talking about as I look like myself, and myself alone."
His lips parted uneasily when she turned as white as a sheet and clutched her throat. The crimson blood on her hands was a stark contrast to her skin, immediately drawing his eyes to her throat in interest. A small composition started to play itself out in his head at the sight and he softly hummed a note or two, immensely satisfied with the piece. Curses went to the fact he hadn't found a piano or any semblance of an instrument in this damned castle.
Wait- what? Margot had started to say "Master", hadn't she…? Erik narrowed his odd-colored eyes at his savior's daughter. "Beg pardon, Mademoiselle but-," he started to say indignantly, but he cut himself off when she started to ask rudely about his identity. Who was he? "I would think it obvious, Madamoiselle." Why he looked so much like who? The silly girl wasn't making any sense.
He swept back his cape in an elaborate bow, keeping his odd eyes trained warningly on Margot's face. "Le Fantôme de l'Opéra at your service," Erik coldly introduced himself, making sure that he was only talking to Margot
"And I am sure I have no idea of who you're talking about as I look like myself, and myself alone."