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Post by Erik Revenant on Aug 30, 2012 11:33:21 GMT -5
Only a few hours into his wandering and he was already completely and utterly lost. And, yet, he hadn't seen a soul. Which was, actually, quite welcome. He crept through the halls of this manor, shoulders hunched over to make himself appear quite a lot smaller than he actually was. Despite having seen nothing as he crept about, he'd heard things. Animated voices from other rooms, crashing and banging, creaks and groans of the manor... Each of the noises made him jump a mile high and look as though he was going to go into a panic. Trying to figure out this place on his house, though it was more comfortable than having a guide, was turning out to be a far more difficult undertaking than he had bargained for. It should've been so easy, with all these straight hallways and reasonably placed rooms. Between the uneasiness of not knowing exactly where he was and the panic that ensued whenever there was an unexpected sound, his nerves were becoming too frayed for him to even function well enough to figure out where he was. This all looked the same and he couldn't figure it out and-
He paused in the hall for a spell, attempting to calm himself so maybe he could just figure out a way to get someplace more secluded where he couldn't be found. This was all just too much for him to bear. Suddenly being pulled away from everything he'd known so well for so long and flung into this place. Whatever this bedeviled place even was!
His amber eyes darted about as he leaned against the wall, so he could take in all of this and not be caught unawares by anyone who might have light enough footsteps to creep up on him... or another ghost. God knows he didn't need to see another one of those. Just seeing one was more than enough to carry him through the rest of his stay here. However long he was here. Hopefully, he could find a way back within a week or so. A shadow moved across the wall just down the hall and he started to panic, looking about for a place for himself to disappear to.
The door to his left was too close to the shadow to even bother. The door to his right, however... He moved swiftly that way, nearly falling over his own legs in his haste to get there faster. The door was difficult to open at first, with his sweaty palms, but he managed to get inside and, as soon as he was, he shut the door as quietly as possible while still attempting to move quickly. He briefly placed his head against the closed door, in utter relief that he hadn't been sighted. After that brief period of having his head there against the door, he turned around slowly, still leaning against the door with his eyes closed. It was only upon opening them that he was startled by the sight of a small child standing there. He stood utterly still, hardly daring to breathe as he watched the child, almost in fear...
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Sept 3, 2012 13:17:36 GMT -5
((Sorry it took so long x.x hopefully replies will be faster now))
Gustave had wandered down to the library that morning to look for a storybook. He missed his stories back at home, at the chateau in Paris. Sometimes his mother or father would tell him a story before bed, like when they had read to each other when they were children. The lad very much liked to hear these stories. Often times, they reminded him of his own fantasies with took place in his head and in his dreams every night.
He had been to the library once before – with his father when he had first come to this strange place after having run from how frightening Mister Y's face had been – but he had never really had a chance to browse the shelves, looking at all of the different books that there were there. There wasn't much at all in terms of children's selection, but he did manage to find a collection of fairytales.
He was just starting to leave, to go back up to ask his mother to read to him, when he saw a man standing against the door. The little boy stood staring at the man as he turned around to face him. The man was wearing a white mask like the one he had seen Mister Y wearing. He hid a bit, behind the book, peering out cautiously. His father had told him that he was to stay away from the men in masks there at the manor...
But he could not leave. This man was standing in front of the door. Maybe he was a nice man? “H-hello,” the boy said shyly. “M-my name is Gustave. Gustave de Chagny. What's your name?”
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Post by Erik Revenant on Sept 4, 2012 19:26:52 GMT -5
This was entirely unexpected and unwelcome. He hadn't wanted to run into anyone around here! That's why he'd hidden in here in the first place. When the child hid behind the book, he was somewhat relieved that at least a portion of the child's face was covered. Revenant wished he had a book large enough to hide himself behind as well. And the shelves weren't close enough for him to just dart behind those and pretend he hadn't been seen at all. That child, being as it was indeed a child, would probably follow him and think it was some kind of game.
Gustave, the child called himself. Gustave de Chagny... Which meant absolutely nothing to Revenant. It was like any other name. Then, of course, this Gustave had to initiate conversation. Revenant wanted nothing to do with that. At all. But what was the harm? "Erik Revenant." His answer wasn't much more than a murmur and he was looking over Gustave's head, as it was simpler than looking down at the floor, which Gustave was closer to. For a second, his eyes flitted to the book, actually taking in the title, before returning to the spot above the child's head. There were lots of books here. Not as good as his library back home, of course, but better than nothing. Perhaps, after everything was all sorted out he could look for a book about birds and-
He came back to reality shortly later, seeming to recall that he wasn't alone in the room and he wasn't going to start planning much of a future here since he was still determined to get back home where he belonged and where he knew everything. To the place where nothing changed unless he decided it should. He didn't speak anymore to the child and he wasn't sure what else he was meant to do. With his slouched postion and the way he refused to make eye contact, he certainly wasn't a very threatening sight. At all.
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Sept 11, 2012 23:16:08 GMT -5
Gustave peered from behind the book at the masked man as he told him his name. Erik Revenant... The boy blinked a few times in a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. What was this man going to do? Did he wear a mask to hide the same frightening thing that his mother's friend, Mister Y did? He did not understand how as beautiful as his mother was, Mister Y could be just as frightening-looking...
“F-father says I'm not supposed to talk to men wearing masks, Mister Revenant....” Poor Gustave. The boy always tried to do as he was told, but sometimes it was very difficult for him. His curiosity often got him into trouble by leading him into situations he was not supposed to be in.
He stared a moment longer before he finally worked up the courage to speak a little more. “Did you come here because you like storybooks too? I wanted mother to read to me...” He held up his book to show the shadowy masked man. “Maybe I can ask if mother would read to you too?.... I-if you like...”
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Post by Erik Revenant on Sept 14, 2012 2:03:43 GMT -5
To be honest, Revenant would’ve agreed with the boy’s father, whoever that was. It was probably best not to talk to men in masks. Or just men. Or women. Or other children… Or anyone else for that matter. Since the boy had said he wasn’t supposed to talk to men in masks, Revenant was sort of hoping that would be the end of the discussion. However, that certainly wasn’t the case, as he found when the boy spoke once again.
This time, though, he cocked his head slightly to the side. That, he thought, was a strange question… and, yet, somewhat endearing. Even as far as Revenant’s standards went. He seemed to straighten up ever so slightly, his head still cocked to the side a little before he just slowly started shaking it. “I… I don’t think so.” This was the sort of question he was never asked. To join someone and be read to? …Even just to join someone? He didn’t know what to make of it. He moved a little ways away from the door and just stood off to the side instead, still keeping an eye on Gustave.
Was he even supposed to trust the boy? What if the child was like all other children, too inquisitive for his own good? Then, Revenant supposed, he’d have to keep a hand very close to his mask, to avoid it being removed. After all, a mask was too great of a temptation for a child, he knew that. Even if he was able to accept the offer to be read to by someone, he would have to remain far from the child and the mother of the child as well, just to be entirely certain he wouldn’t have to interact with either. And none of that was going to work at all.
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Sept 29, 2012 3:25:36 GMT -5
((Sorry this took so long. I had some technical difficulties come up x.x))
The boy tilted his head a little bit. He couldn't help but to become curious. The man didn't seem to talk much. Maybe he was shy? Gustave could certainly relate with the feeling. He often felt she around new people. It was a little bit odd, perhaps, considering his mother was a performer and his father was a viscount, but he couldn't help It sometimes. It was easier when his mother was there to hold his hand, but alone...
“Y-you don't talk much, do you?” He managed to stammer. “Are you afraid? I know that I sometimes get afraid when I meet new people, especially when mother is not there... But I'm not scary, am I? Mother's not scary either. You'd like her. She's very beautiful.” It was something he truly did wonder, whether the man was scared of him or not...
“Your mask looks a little like one that one of other's friends wears. His name is Mister Y. Mister Y took off his mask for me once and it scared me... Do you get scared sometimes too? I don't like being around lakes sometimes because I don't know how to swim yet and the water scares me... But I want to learn. Father told me it's good to try to not be afraid any more.”
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Post by Erik Revenant on Oct 5, 2012 2:23:03 GMT -5
Revenant just stood there, very still. This boy was quite a talker and he couldn’t say he really appreciated that. In fact, he really just didn’t like it. It meant he had to engage in conversation, which he didn’t particularly want to do anyway. He’d just been looking for a place to hide and run into this boy. He certainly hadn’t bargained on actually having a conversation! All the questions the boy asked! Didn’t he have other places to go or parents to return to?
In response to the boy’s questions, Revenant just looked down at the floor and gave a little shrug of his shoulders. “I-I try not to talk much.” Why did these things have to happen to him? Trapped here with all these people that kept talking to him. He just wanted to be left alone and find a way back to his home. Was that too much to ask? For solitude and familiar surroundings? He didn’t think it was that much to ask for. There were far more things he could desire. “I’m not afraid.” Well, that was sort of true. He wasn’t really afraid. Just… what was a good word for it? Intimidated? Maybe that wasn’t quite right. All he knew was he didn’t want to be here. Not at all. Not in the least. But he just stood there, eyes on the floor and hands clutched in front of him, and, really, looking like maybe he was a bit scared.
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Oct 12, 2012 15:36:30 GMT -5
The man really was rather peculiar. He didn't think that grownups were ever so shy. Gustave almost felt like he was talking to another boy about his own age, rather than a grown man like his father. I-I try not to talk much, the man stammered. This confused Gustave just a little bit. “Why?” he asked with a simple naïvité.
He risked taking a couple steps closer to the man, his little brown eyes staring up at him, all aglow with curiosity. The curiosity of a child is a beautiful thing. Gustave really felt bad that the man was so shy, and so he held his book out a little bit. “M-maybe you could help me pick out what story to ask mother to read?”
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Post by Erik Revenant on Oct 13, 2012 3:02:38 GMT -5
“I don’t like to talk.” The answer just sort of slipped out. It wasn’t particularly polite at all but, then again, did that matter? It was the truth, at least. He didn’t enjoy talking. Talking meant being close to people. He’d much rather communicate through notes or letter, where he could be at a safe distance and communicate his thoughts easier…
When the boy took a couple steps closer, Revenant kept a careful watch on him. The closer that boy got, the more uneasy Revenant was prone to getting. Sure, the boy was entirely non-threatening but, still. It worried him. He peered down at the book that the boy was holding out, curious yet ever wary. Pick out a story? His brow furrowed and he just peered down at the book. How could he pick a story without knowing any of them? Written fairytales weren’t exactly the things he knew anything about.
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Dec 7, 2012 17:00:40 GMT -5
“Oh...” said the little boy simply at the man's reply, a bit of disappointment in his voice. He didn't have many people to play with here, other than his mother, his father, and princess Meg. He really wished that he had other friends to play with, but there didn't seem to be any other children around here, thus he'd resorted to trying to make friends with some of the grown ups, but it wasn't working very well it seemed.
“You're still welcome to pick out a story with me. I've never heard this one before, but that's what makes it exciting. Mother tells me that grandfather used to tell her all sorts of new stories when she was a little girl.”
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Post by Erik Revenant on Dec 16, 2012 3:58:02 GMT -5
“I do not know the stories.” Revenant spoke after a moment or two of peering at the book in the child’s hands. After a short spell, he spoke again, although his voice was rather hesitant and almost sounded as though he was afraid again. “What story is that one?” He peered at the book with a little bit of curiosity.
It was not the sort of thing he would typically find himself interested in. After all, it wasn’t one of his books about birds… and it certainly wouldn’t be stories from his own childhood. There were stories he knew but most were not well-known by ‘outsiders.’ Those stories were the stories the Roma women had told all their children around the fires at night… While he was here, however, he assumed that, perhaps, he could immerse himself, at least a little, in some of these things that he had missed in his youth.
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Dec 18, 2012 18:28:33 GMT -5
((*Is totally going all Lilo & Stitch Here*))
Gustave looked at the story that the man had pointed to. It was not a title with which he was familiar, but it did sound very interesting. He likes hearing new stories, after all. In fact, that was the entire reason why he had wanted his mother to read to him in the first place. The stories always seemed to sound better when she told them...
“The Ugly Duckling...” he read aloud. “I'm not sure. I've never heard that one before, but it sounds like it could be a very good story...”
He looked back up at the man again. “Sometimes it's fun to hear new stories that you've never heard before. If you didn't hear them, then you might not know if they're your favorites.”
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Post by Erik Revenant on Dec 24, 2012 22:47:31 GMT -5
As interesting as it was to hear about hideous waterfowl, Revenant could not say he was all that keen to stay and hear such a story. For starters, he was pretty sure a duckling couldn’t be particularly ugly and, also, he didn’t really like ducklings. Ducks were birds he avoided… They didn’t follow the natural order of things since they were land dwellers and swimmers at the same time.
However, he was sort of interested in hearing just a little about said duckling just for the fact that it was ugly. What made it ugly? Was it deformed like him? Did it have to hide too? Did the other ducks try to harm it? A rather childish curiosity was taking hold of him and he couldn’t shake it. So, despite his unease at having to be a room with other people and the fact that the story was about ducks, he quietly spoke again. “…I-I would like to hear it.”
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Dec 29, 2012 1:57:49 GMT -5
((For the sake of simplicity, I'm going to suggest that we state they couldn't find his mother, then we can decide if they want to read it themselves. Gustave would be willing if it puts Revenant too far out of his comfort zone. What say you?))
The little boy watched the man as he seemed to ponder the thought of hearing this story called The Ugly Duckling. Gustave was curious about the story himself. It wasn't one that he was particularly familiar with either, so it would be new to both of them. Oh, this was all rather exciting, to get to hear a new story... He could not wait to have it read.
His face lit up into a smile when the masked man said that he would like to hear the book. “Me too!” the boy said happily. Oh, this would be great fun. It wasn't often that he had anybody to listen to the stories with him, other than his mother, of course. “Let's go find mother,” the boy said, taking a couple of steps toward the door and looking back at the masked man,hoping that he would follow. It really would be nice to have a new friend to play with.
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Post by Erik Revenant on Jan 3, 2013 22:57:59 GMT -5
//I definitely think that’s a good idea. We’ll just keep it between these two and keep it nice and simple.
The only reason that Revenant actually ended up following the boy around the manor was because of curiosity. To be completely honest, he would have preferred just he and Gustave could read it all on their own, without the boy’s mother around. That would be another unwelcome face and, more than likely, she wouldn’t even want to read to an adult man. Even Revenant knew that was a strange and rather unwelcome request to make.
So, when the two of them returned, Revenant was a little more at ease. The boy’s mother had proved entirely impossible to find, though Revenant hadn’t really been looking. He’d been more concerned with being caught out in the hallways and talked to any more than necessary. So, when they arrived back, he peeked almost hesitantly into the library and only after making sure it was entirely empty did he walk in again.
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