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Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 14, 2012 12:07:41 GMT -5
Anastasia? Erik inwardly chuckled as he turned around and strode off to the kitchen. As he rifled through his cabinets for the right herbs, he thought. She'd been burned. Anastasia, 'Ressurection', fire, pheonix...A little funny to him, to be sure. He'd keep it to himself, his own little inward joke. He crushed the herbs into a fine powder, then heated some water.
As it boiled, Erik grabbed one of his nice china cups and saucers. She probably wouldn't want anything to eat, and it was probably too soon for that anyway. Pouring the hot water into the cup, he mixed the herbs in. Humming, he gathered it, along with a few sugar cubes and a spoon, and put it onto a tray for her.
He continued humming as he walked back to her room. He shut the door quietly and walked over to her. "I've brought you some tea. It'll help with your voice, and soothe your throat. I know that some people don't like tea, but this is more medicinal if that helps..." He set the tray down on the bed and held out the saucer of tea to her. "Drink."
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anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
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Post by anastasia on Nov 14, 2012 13:06:33 GMT -5
Though it felt like a dream, it definitely was not! The dim light of the fire was just enough to not overwhelm her stinging eyes. The glow was just enough to see. Well, sort of. After laying there a moment to recover from that coughing fit, she rubbed her eyes - whether that was the best for it or not, she didn't really care right now - in an effort to clear them up. Most likely what she would need is a good cleansing but did her mysterious caretaker had any eye drops to rinse her eyes with?
She hadn't realized she was alone in the room until she heard the humming as someone entered the room. Opening her burning eyes - which perfectly matched her burning lungs and throat - to see the vague image of someone approaching her. Again, that soothing, wonderful voice spoke to her. So she listened to every word. If he had not been so perfect in what to do, she could have freaked out in one way or another.
Relaxing after that coughing fit gave her a momentary tiny drop of strength. Granted she still coughed now and then, but not in that coughing fit that was a while ago. Sitting up as best as she could in that bed propped upon an elbow, looking at the dimly lit masked man with a blank look, extending her arm to take the offered tea with a slight nod of her head. Her throat was still raw and did not make an effort to say anything until she had taken the tea.
It was hot. Drinking the libation was taking a bit of an effort to get it down that mess of a throat. Coughing several times between sips. Eventually she did get the mixture down her throat in larger gulps as it had cooled down and three-fourths of the way through. Sitting up a little better in bed, as she closed her eyes, coughed lightly a couple times, drank and relaxed a moment. "Thank you," she finally stated in such a soft, hoarse voice. It was more than she had been able to say since the fire. The fire. Those vague memories came back as her eyes were opened and staring off into nothing. She coughed again, then took a drink which finished off the tea. Taking a breath, a slight cough as she handed the tea cup back to him. "Again... thank you," her voice so soft, so hoarse still but it was a step in the right direction. And she gave him a weak smile. Laying back upon the pillows yet still sitting up, she kept her stinging eyes upon the mysterious figure. "I don't... suppose.. you have some... eye drops?" with barely a smirk. Lord, her throat hurt! The tea helped her to speak a little better but still did not take care of the pain or the burning lungs. Watching the mysterious man mildly exhausted and a tiny hint of curiosity. Who was this man? Eventually she will find out.
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Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 17, 2012 14:58:54 GMT -5
(For those of you who read this thread, eye drops weren't invented until around 1945 in Texas. Just a fun fact.)
"Eye drops?" Erik cocked his head. He'd never heard of them before, and he wondered what curious contraption she was asking him for. He walked to the little connecting bathroom to the room, grabbed a wash-rag, wet it, and brought it back. "I don't have any 'eye drops', but I do have this." He held out the wash-rag to her.
He was in half a mind to ask her about what had happened to her, but he thought better of it. Not now...not yet. "Are you hungry? I can make you something, whatever you would like to eat. I have a surplus of food down here, it seems, and the cabinets are always stocked. I don't know how, but that's how it always seems to be." Erik had always been confused about the fully stocked kitchen in the house. He had no idea who came down and put the food there, it just always seemed to be.
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anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
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Post by anastasia on Nov 17, 2012 16:01:25 GMT -5
A light cough as a hand lay carefully over her chest, eyes blinking a few times as they still stung while her chest ached. Turning her head to watch the tall lanky figure move away then return holding something out. Blinking some more as she tried to catch what it was he offered. She sat up a bit and leaned over to take it from his hands, "Thank you," she replied in a dry, scratchy voice followed by clearing her throat as she took the wet rag and realized that's what it was. It was wet enough to that perhaps she could use it like eye drops. Won't be as soothing but it will have to do. Anything was better than leaving her eyes at the horrible mercy of this stinging aftermath. With the wet rag in hand and tilting her head back to 'look up', she hovered it carefully over her face, directly over her eyes. With a careful gentle squeeze with slightly holding her eye lids open, allowing a couple drops to fall into her eyes. It looked agonizing as she blinked and flinched constantly. After a moment she repeated the action with the other eye then repeated once more with both eyes to sooth them a little. It did help a bit with the stinging and she could finally see a little better. Then with the rag, she wiped the tears away that had streamed down her face and cleaned her face off to feel a little fresher at least.
Coughing lightly as she tried to look around for a place for the wet rag, but then turned her gaze to her tall caretaker and offered the slightly damp and now warm rag back. "Thank you," her voice still a bit scratchy but not as dry and coughed lightly again. "It helped," with a slight smile at least.
Food? That was the furthest from her mind. She never really thought of it at all until he mentioned it. Now her stomach seemed to twist but rather uncomfortably like it was upset. Most likely it was after such an ordeal. Shaking her head, " just a glass of milk if you have it. Please." Another weak smile. Now that she could see a little better in that dim lighting, indeed her mysterious doctor wanna-be was a very tall, lanky, actually rather skeletal, masked man. Gazing at him rather slightly stunned and began to wonder. Was he another Phantom? Was he THE Phantom? The original? The one from the novel? This troubled her as she quickly turned he face and sights away from him gazing at anything other than him and weakly fidgeting. The encounters with two other Phantom's had gone rather skew and they were her favorites, too! This bothered her deeply as she coughed lightly a couple times, swallowed, and coughed again while leaning back against the pillows. His words confused her wonder what ever was he talking about. Her mind started to go a little crazy as she pondered. Was she in that strange Manor again? If so, it would make sense. That place tossed her reality upside down and tested her sanity intensely! Debating silently a moment when she closed her eyes and built the courage up. Speaking in that scratchy soft voice, "You're name is Erik, isn't it?" Laying back upon the pillows with her eyes still closed. She didn't want to see a think. If he was indeed the Erik she was thinking of, then she had already a guess of what this one looked like and was like. It only made her stomach more uncomfortable. Would she screw up this encounter, too? She simply kept her eyes closed wishing that she never had come to this damned Manor. Wishing she never met any of the Phantoms!
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Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 17, 2012 16:13:53 GMT -5
Erik was a little taken aback. How did she know his name? He'd never met her before. He answered her hesitantly. "...Yes...Erik Lavalais." His brow furrowed beneath his mask. How could she know...? "And yours is Anastasia. So now, it seems, we are fully acquainted."
"Milk, you said?" He strode over to the door. This was turning out to be the strangest rescue he'd ever taken part in. Given, when he'd rescued Teressa all those years ago, it was imperative that he had take care of her and nurse her back to health, or she would have died. And what a waste to her art that would've been. She had potential, but she didn't have the courage to give her talents to others...but he had no room to talk. He lacked the courage as well, possibly more so. If the time ever came for him to perform for an audience....he was afraid of what they'd say, for sure. Even now, his mind was playing tricks on him. His thoughts were telling him that he wouldn't earn friendship from anyone in the manor. Not even from this girl, though he'd certainly earned her thanks and gratitude.
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anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
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Post by anastasia on Nov 17, 2012 16:33:03 GMT -5
Nodding as her eyes were closed for the moment when he responded. Yes, he was Erik. Nothing new. Just one more Phantom to irritate most likely. But the last name threw her off a bit. Once again, a little tidbit of info that was never in the story. She sighed and slightly nodded once, then opened her eyes as she gazed at the tall masked man with a slightly confused look. Then realized that she must have gave him her name, 'oh, right,' she whispered to herself. "Please," she piped up loud enough for him to hear in that scratchy voice, "call me Ana." Then turned her glassy eyes away from him as she stared forward at nothing as though she were in deep morbid thought.
Another nod in response to the confirmation of the milk request but said nothing. Though she did cough a couple times then laid her hand upon her chest again, closed her eyes and took a ragged deep breath then let it out slowly. She was afraid now. Now because of his appearance but because most likely she'll mess up this encounter, too. She kept her eyes closed and turned her head away then rolled to lay upon her side as she laid down, somewhat placing her back to him. Her eyes stung again but that's because tears welled which irritated them, salty moisture clashing with dry.
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Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 17, 2012 16:43:50 GMT -5
She was behaving as though she were depressed...poor thing. She must have gone through something horrid. Erik left her for a moment to get her a glass of milk, but before he returned, he grabbed a little something to occupy himself: a guitar. He set the glass of milk on a table by the bed and returned to the settee. He crossed his legs, shifting into a comfortable position. Then he just started playing around with the guitar.
Erik played snippets of old songs he knew, a few of his own pieces for guitar, all the while leaving his guest to her thoughts. He didn't mind that she wouldn't talk to him, he'd lived in silence for many years.
The guitar was soft and quiet, and Erik leaned down to hear it a little better, completely taking his eyes off of his guest. Perhaps she'd fall asleep, or perhaps she'd start a conversation, but either way, Erik had no place in his mind for outside matters now that music was playing. Suddenly, the need to play one of his favourite pieces he'd written for guitar struck him. It was a little piece he'd written to help himself calm down when he woke up from his nightmares. A sort of lullaby, calming and free and flowing and sweet...it would sound lovely for voice, but he could never find words to give to it.
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anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
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Post by anastasia on Nov 17, 2012 17:13:21 GMT -5
Aware that he returned as she heard him enter the room and the sound of something being set down nearby. She only laid there on her side in the unfamiliar bed wrapped up in her melancholy.
The sound of the guitar started to bring her out of that little depression. Listening to the mismatched music and notes. She could appreciate a person who could play an instrument. That was one thing she never had the patience for when in her youth. Nor the talent. Rolling over slowly to somewhat sit up again in bed, laying back upon pillows, reaching over for the milk once she saw it and picked it. Bringing the white liquid to her lips to drink in moderation as she eventually shifted her gaze to watch him play. She eventually finished the milk with light coughs that she tried so hard to stifle and keep quiet. She didn't want to interrupt the charming music he was creating. Why was he doing this? Not that it wasn't appreciated, it actually was very much appreciated. The music he created started to put her mind at ease. She laid there now upon her side watching him play and listening to the music. The tears welled for a bit as she wondered why. Why? Why what? Why everything! Closing her eyes and doing what she could to just be rid of her emotions. All she wanted to do was to listen to this incredible music. Opening her eyes again and kept them locked upon him, glassy and sparkling with a vague sadness and hope in them as she watched Erik play such incredible music. Now she understood. He truly could own the world. If only....
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Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 17, 2012 17:18:31 GMT -5
Erik hummed along to the little song without words. He smiled slightly. Music lifted his soul, made him feel worlds better. He loved it so, and wished that he could share his music with the world. But he knew it could never be so. His music was for himself alone, with his face and his personality...he couldn't share what was his with an audience. He shifted a little, and let himself play a little louder.
He heard Anastasia cough, and looked up. She was watching him. He felt a rush of blood in his cheeks and looked back down at his guitar. She was listening to him play. He knew she would, but still...now that he was fully aware that she was listening...He kept playing and tried to divert his attention back to the music.
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anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
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Post by anastasia on Nov 17, 2012 17:43:40 GMT -5
What a conflict of emotions that tugged over her; the torment of making matters worse by damaging further relations with another Phantom with the beautiful and soothing music that seemed to calm her down just a little bit at a time. Afraid to compliment him, let alone speak a single word because she was not so keen about gaining another enemy. Especially one who was so dangerous and could bring about her demise without a single soul knowing what happened to her or where her body rested. Biting her lower lip as she fought back the tears and emotion, just wanting to let the music belay all the ill thoughts in her head, all the threatening emotions that roiled within her.
In that little moment she saw him look up, she finally caught the actual hint of his golden eyes. Her lips parted just slightly with amazement that he took notice of her attention. "Sorry," she said softly in that slightly hoarse voice. "Didn't mean to disturb you." She wanted him to continue, both with the guitar and his humming. Mesmerized by his talent. "Please, don't stop." She said with scratchy softness while watching him. "It's rather.. nice." And weakly smiled with her glassy eyes sparkling as they silently begged to silence her raging pain.
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Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 19, 2012 1:04:14 GMT -5
Sitting back, Erik watched Anastasia. She liked his music...He smiled a little under the mask. "So...what kind of music do you like?" Erik picked out a little Spanish melody while he talked. He'd always liked the harmonies involved in Spanish music. "And you didn't disturb me. It would be more accurate for me to say that I disturbed you."
He leaned back in the settee. His posture was a little more casual now, he didn't mind her presence much. Mostly because she was lying in a bed. It made him more comfortable to be spaced from her. He'd never had much experience with women in the first place, so being in proximity to them was a bit awkward for him.
"I hope you're not in as much pain...it would be a little counter-productive if I wasn't helping. I did say that I would help." Erik paused. Talking with the girl might allow him to learn more about her and where she was from. "You're from America, yes? I've never been...I've heard it's strange there. After that fight with the British, they've supposedly got a 'democracy'. Is that true?"
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anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
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Post by anastasia on Nov 19, 2012 1:49:19 GMT -5
Lightly coughing once again as she pondered his inquiry. "I like a variety," she said in a soft, hoarse voice. "I'll listen to... anything. Well almost anything." A light cough again, "I don't like Rap much and there are a few songs... by Elvis," another light cough,"that I just won't... listen.. to." A light, closed mouth cough. All while she laid there in bed, watching him and listened to the music he strummed upon the guitar. It was a nice melody. Interesting watching his long skeletal fingers just move with such a smooth flow across the strings of the instrument. Smirking weakly as she slightly shook her head while it rested upon the pillow. "No. You did not disturb me."
It was incredibly interesting watching him. She had this image in her head of Erik being so erratic with incredibly emotional mood swings and overbearing or frightening. But this... this was not the case that was before her eyes. Maybe she was dreaming and it felt real. This was a simple calm moment of dim light and lovely music. Good God, it was practically romantic! Biting her lower lip for a moment and lightly coughed again and kept watching him. This Phantom was so very interesting.
Shakes her head while it rolled upon the pillow, "Not much. It's," a light cough as she yawned. "a little achy in the chest but the throat is better. So are my eyes. Thank you." Not sure if there was much he did. Granted she would have gotten incredible care at a hospital. But she was grateful nevertheless. "You're help is much appreciated," replied in that soft, scratchy voice. Again she nodded on the pillow while watching him, "Yes." Paused a moment. "Illinois to be exact." She told him with an exhausted smile then a soft snicker followed by coughing. "That was a long time ago; the American Revolution. Ehh, more or less, it's a Democracy. Strange? Yes. But no different than the rest of the world." A lot happened on a daily basis worldwide. She thought a moment realizing that perhaps in his world, or the era he was from - the Victorian era -, that he was oblivious to all that happened in the 20th and into the current 21st century. Much like Lenoir and Carriere, completely oblivious to the horrors that continued to consume this world. She coughed lightly again, closed her eyes and sighed then yawned. Tired for some odd reason. She shouldn't be. She rested well enough, right? "Might I take a bath or shower in a while?" she glanced at herself at how awful she felt and most likely looked. She didn't know where she could clean up. It will be a challenge but perhaps a warm bath and moisture 'll help, too. "And," bites lower lip, "I don't suppose you have some clothes I could wear?" She wouldn't feel comfortable walking around in a dirty, ruined short nightie.
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Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 19, 2012 2:16:53 GMT -5
Erik cocked his head in confusion when she mentioned musical styles that she'd never heard of. What was that 'rap' she mentioned? And this 'Elvis' thing? Was it a person, a place? An object? He dismissed the comments and continued playing. He was sure that if she mentioned them again, she'd explain. Well, if she didn't he'd ask. After all, she was answering his questions...
"You are free to freshen up as you see fit. You do not have to ask my permission if you want to bathe. You are a guest here, not a prisoner. And yes, I do have some clothing that you can borrow. It's not like..." Erik motioned at her. "Well, it's not like what I found you in, but it's clothing. And any clothing is good, n'est-ce pas? There is a bathroom over there, and I shall find you some decent outfits to wear. Although, I'm not sure if you'll be quite used to them..."
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anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
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Post by anastasia on Nov 19, 2012 3:05:40 GMT -5
A guest. That felt so strange and yet quite humbling. Didn't he keep Christine in the same fashion though? Well, so far, she didn't feel like a prisoner. She did indeed feel like a very well taken care of guest. Almost pampered, or so it felt like it. She was more than grateful. Nodding and listening then a soft laugh followed by coughing at the mention of the clothes he found her in. She blushed. Blushing? Why ever was she blushing? Well, she was wearing a short pink satin nightie with it's matching robe and that was it! "Thank you," in that soft, hoarse voice followed by light coughs. It will be nice to at least feel a little better. "And that's alright. I'll wear them." Not really sure what she was getting herself into there. But clothes were clothes. It was better to wear something than to walk around naked and currently that was something she was not willing to do!
Shifting in the bed as she slipped back the sheets and sat up, coughed a few times as she got up. Doing her best attempting to at least look or stay modest. The burnt nightie offered little in that necessity. She strode from the bed towards where Erik had mentioned, to the bathroom, coughing lightly only twice while wrapping the burnt nightie and robe close in an effort to cover her. She felt so very vulnerable and shy around him. It was one thing wearing her riding attire, but to really be exposing skin was something else! She disappeared into the bathroom. Took a bath and freshened up a bit more. Feeling more normal and a little better despite the aching lungs and the shallow cuts. The bath was so very soothing and relaxing and actually did very well for her recovery.
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Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 23, 2012 16:53:28 GMT -5
Erik watched her pass into the bathroom, then left the room, closing the door softly behind himself. He sighed. He had no idea what to do past this....Well, make food for her would be a good start. He went to the kitchen and lit a fire in the oven, then pondered over what to make her. He decided on chicken.
Absent mindedly, Erik went through the motions of baking a chicken. After it was securely in the oven he went into his wine cellar and found a nice white wine to go with it. He hoped she'd like wine. If not, more for him. He loved wine, very much. One could say that perhaps he was a connoisseur.
Was she done with that bath yet? Perhaps not. Maybe she was still looking for clothes. Oh dear...clothes...He took the chicken out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool down while he went upstairs. Taking care to not disturb many items, he rifled around Teressa's room for several pairs of underclothes and quite a few dresses. He put them into one of Teressa's less-filled trunks and took it down to the room, where he placed the trunk at the foot of the bed. He nodded at his handiwork, turned on his heel, and went back to the kitchen to continue with the food.
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