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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Jan 6, 2013 17:10:49 GMT -5
Gustave and Mister Revenant had searched about the manor a bit, looking for the boy's mother, but to no avail. The boy was a little disappointed, of course, that his mother would not be able to read to him, but at least he would not have to read the story alone now. He had a new friend to read with, and for this, he was quite grateful. It was a beautiful thing to have friends to read with and to play with...
When they arrived back at the library, Gustave let out a little sigh and looked down at the book. He had so been looking forward to reading with his mother... but then he looked back up at Mister Revenant with hopeful eyes. “Would you still like to read the story with me? We... we could sit on the sofa...”
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Post by Erik Revenant on Jan 15, 2013 0:28:41 GMT -5
Revenant peered down at the boy as he spoke. Well, at least it wouldn’t be as bad as reading it with the boy’s mother. So, after a couple seconds of utterly silence from him, he quietly nodded his head and looked around for said sofa, making sure it was large enough that he could have some space between himself and the boy. If it was too small of a space, he wouldn’t sit. He’d have to stand. However, the sofa appeared to have plenty of room.
He moved over towards it and, when he arrived, he sat on the very far edge, closest to the door so he could escape if the need presented itself. For now, though, he was going to try and relax and just listen to the boy read, if that was the way this was going to go. If he himself had to read, it would perhaps not go quite according to plan. He would certainly stutter and rush and it certainly not be enjoyable whatsoever. So he prayed that the boy could read relatively well and would just read the story for the both of them…
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Jan 17, 2013 4:36:32 GMT -5
Gustave watched in a shy silence as Mister Revenant sat down on the couch beside him. He was happy to have someone to read with, even if it wasn't his mother. He withed that there were other children here. Maybe then he could have somebody to play with. He was happy though that he at least had the company of Mister Revenant for now...
After a moment of waiting, to make sure that Mister Revenant was settled and comfy on the couch, the little lad carefully opened up the book's cover to the first page of the story and began to read.
“Once upon a time down on an old farm, lived a duck family, and Mother Duck had been sitting on a clutch of new eggs. One nice morning, the eggs hatched and out popped six chirpy ducklings. But one egg was bigger than the rest, and it didn't hatch. Mother Duck couldn't recall laying that seventh egg. How did it get there? TOCK! TOCK! The little prisoner was pecking inside his shell. "Did I count the eggs wrongly?" Mother Duck wondered. But before she had time to think about it, the last egg finally hatched. A strange looking duckling with gray feathers that should have been yellow gazed at a worried mother. The ducklings grew quickly, but Mother Duck had a secret worry. "I can't understand how this ugly duckling can be one of mine!" she said to herself, shaking her head as she looked at her last born. Well, the gray duckling certainly wasn't pretty, and since he ate far more than his brothers, he was outgrowing them. As the days went by, the poor ugly duckling became more and more unhappy. His brothers didn't want to play with him, he was so clumsy, and all the farmyard folks simply laughed at him. He felt sad and lonely, while Mother Duck did her best to console him. "Poor little ugly duckling!" she would say. "Why are you so different from the others?" And the ugly duckling felt worse than ever. He secretly wept at night. He felt nobody wanted him.[/i]”
A few of the words he had to read a bit slowly, sounding them out, but all in all, it was not too bad. He was a very broight boy and could read well for his age.
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Post by Erik Revenant on Jan 26, 2013 4:18:48 GMT -5
As Revenant listened to the story, he couldn’t help but think he’d made a mistake in sitting here and listening to a story about ugly waterfowl. Poor foolish Revenant. He hadn’t believed for a moment that the animals would be talking or that they’d be at all emotional. So, as the story was progressing, he grew more and more uncomfortable with it. Who would actually want to read about ugly waterfowl that felt badly that they were ugly?
This story was not at all to his liking. He slouched a bit into the couch and just tried to sit quietly through the story. He’d agreed to stay and listen to the boy read but he had never agreed that he wouldn’t rush out as soon as the story was over… Ugly waterfowl. He should’ve known that such a story would be uncomfortable for him. Why on earth had he agreed to sit through a retelling of the plight of something ugly? Hadn’t he lived through enough of that already?
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Jan 29, 2013 3:07:02 GMT -5
The ten year old boy didn’t notice his companion’s shift in posture, which might have suggested to him some hint of boredom. In all honesty, it was probably better that way. If he thought that Mister Revenant was bored at all, he might have thought that he’d done something wrong, or that his reading wasn’t good enough, or that the man simply didn’t like him. In his bliss of ignorance, he continued on reading.
“Then one day, at sunrise, he ran away from the farmyard. He stopped at a pond and began to question all the other birds. "Do you know of any ducklings with gray feathers like mine?" But everyone shook their heads in scorn. "We don't know anyone as ugly as you." The ugly duckling did not lose heart, however, and kept on making inquiries. He went to another pond, where a pair of large geese gave him the same answer to his question. What's more, they warned him: "Don't stay here! Go away! It's dangerous. There are men with guns around here!" The duckling was sorry he had ever left the farmyard. Then one day, his travels took him near an old countrywoman's cottage. Thinking he was a stray goose, she caught him. "I'll put this in a hutch. I hope it's a female and lays plenty of eggs!" said the old woman, whose eyesight was poor. But the ugly duckling laid not a single egg. The hen kept frightening him. "Just wait! If you don't lay eggs, the old woman will wring your neck and pop you into the pot!" And the cat chipped in: "Hee! Hee! I hope the woman cooks you, then I can gnaw at your bones!" The poor ugly duckling was so scared that he lost his appetite, though the old woman kept stuffing him with food and grumbling: "If you won't lay eggs, at least hurry up and get plump!" "Oh, dear me!" moaned the now terrified duckling. "I'll die of fright first! And I did so hope someone would love me!"”
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Post by Erik Revenant on Jan 31, 2013 15:18:16 GMT -5
Oh, could this story get any worse?! Revenant was starting to think not. There was no possible way for a story about something so very ugly to have a happy ending anyway. After today, he would make entirely sure that he never read nor had this story read to him ever again. But he kept listening, despite the fact that he would prefer to be doing anything else at all right now.
It seemed such a grim story and Revenant could not help but feel as though the ugly little waterfowl would shortly die in the story. After all, what hope did a small duck have against a human? Well, maybe it wasn’t such a small duck, if it was being mistaken for a young female goose… So, rather than having his mind on the rather dark story that seemed to be unfolding, he was, instead, preoccupied with figuring the exact size of the duckling as compared to the geese that he had seen in his youth. Geese were large birds weren’t they? And ducks were such small little waddling things. How could the woman of the story mistake a duck for a goose when there was such a difference in size? Perhaps her sight was truly worse than what had been said…
His shifting around in his seat ceased as he was lost in thought, contemplating all the little not so dark details of the story. From any other point of view, it would appear as though he was paying close attention. But, really, his mind was elsewhere, trying to piece together the parts of the story that weren’t making sense to him. Sure, some of what the boy was reading now was still sinking in but Revenant was using the new readings to try to figure out what he’d already heard and find answers for all the questions he had.
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Feb 1, 2013 21:20:40 GMT -5
Gustave could not help but to begin to feel rather sorry for the little lost ugly duckling as he read. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like not having anyone who wanted you, or loved you. It must be terribly sad and dreadful, he thought to himself silently as he read aloud.
“ Then one night, finding the hutch door ajar, he escaped. Once again he was all alone. He fled as far away as he could, and at dawn, he found himself in a thick bed of reeds. "If nobody wants me, I'll hid here forever." There was plenty a food, and the duckling began to feel a little happier, though he was lonely. One day at sunrise, he saw a flight of beautiful birds wing overhead. White, with long slender necks, yellow beaks and large wings, they were migrating south. "If only I could look like them, just for a day!" said the duckling, admiringly. Winter came and the water in the reed bed froze. The poor duckling left home to seek food in the snow. He dropped exhausted to the ground, but a farmer found him and put him in his big jacket pocket. "I'll take him home to my children. They'll look after him. Poor thing, he's frozen!" The duckling was showered with kindly care at the farmer's house. In this way, the ugly duckling was able to survive the bitterly cold winter. However, by springtime, he had grown so big that the farmer decided: "I'll set him free by the pond!" That was when the duckling saw himself mirrored in the water.”
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Post by Erik Revenant on Feb 11, 2013 19:40:47 GMT -5
Revenant made a very soft frustrated sound at his inability to actually understand some of the motivations and little details of the story. The thing that was still so frustrating to him was the apparently changing size of the duckling. First it was mistaken for a young goose and now it could fit inside of a pocket? When would the size finally cease to be an issue?!
At the cliffhanger, Revenant’s thoughts paused and he peered over at the book, sort of curious. What would the duckling see? Was it a Muscovy duck? No… those ducklings were yellow when they were young and this one had been gray… Perhaps it was simply a black duck? Those existed didn’t they? He waited somewhat impatiently for Gustave to continue the story and say what the duckling was actually seeing.
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Feb 14, 2013 0:37:26 GMT -5
Gustave heard a very soft sound from the man, which caused him to stop for a bit. Had he done something wrong? Was Mister Revenant growing tired of the story. They were almost done… but maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to finish. He didn’t know. He stopped reading and looked up at Mister Revenant, who seemed to be waiting impatiently. He could only assume that the masked man was waiting for him to finish, and so he looked back down at the book and read through the last few lines on the last couple of pages.
“ "Goodness! How I've changed! I hardly recognize myself!" The flight of swans winged north again and glided on to the pond. When the duckling saw them, he realized he was one of their kind, and soon made friends. "We're swans like you!" they said, warmly. "Where have you been hiding?" "It's a long story," replied the young swan, still astounded. Now, he swam majestically with his fellow swans. One day, he heard children on the river bank exclaim: "Look at that young swan! He's the finest of them all!" And he almost burst with happiness.
The End”
Gustave closed the book and looked up at his masked companion to see his reaction to the story.
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Post by Erik Revenant on Mar 22, 2013 9:41:27 GMT -5
Now that was just a ridiculous ending to the story! First it had been a duckling, then a goose, and now it had magically turned into a swan? Revenant didn’t like this story. Not only was it unrealistic in the sense of the timeline, it was unrealistic in the fact that ugly things didn’t just magically become attractive. He, for one, certainly knew and understood that. So, when the child looked at him, he had a small frown on his face as he peered at the cover of the book.
“That was a… nice story.” And that was a lie, plain and simple. Although, maybe not so plain for a child. Revenant didn’t enjoy the story and he would never read it or allow it to be read to him again. It had frustrated him all the way through just to inform him that the bird had somehow changed from a duckling into a swan. What a misleading title and a terribly frustrating story…
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Mar 27, 2013 7:16:18 GMT -5
Gustave didn’t really know what the masked man thought of the story they’d just read, but it was probably better that he couldn’t hear his thoughts. Ignorance was bliss, after all! Had the boy known that the man had found the story to be so terribly irritating, he probably would have been heartbroken.
Instead, the man told a little white lie, which brought a small smile to the boy’s face. “I liked the part at the end, where the duckling found a home to stay in, and where he was suddenly beautiful,” he said, charmed by the little folktale that they had read together. “What was your favorite part?”
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Post by Erik Revenant on Apr 20, 2013 2:49:12 GMT -5
“Yes… those parts were very nice.” Well, what else was he meant to say? It wasn’t as though he could just begin to tear the story apart in front of the boy. No… even he knew that wasn’t the correct response to this question.
But, when he was asked his favorite part, he had to think. What part had been the most bearable throughout this entire story? He shifted, almost awkwardly, in his seat, just trying to come up with something. Eventually, after a silent spell that seemed too long for social convention, Revenant had finally thought of something that maybe would be expected to say to a child “I liked the part where he made friends…”
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on Apr 29, 2013 23:16:08 GMT -5
((Not sure how many more posts we wanted in this. We could always just have one of the two walk out at any time.))
The young boy smiled, nodding happily when Mister Revenant told him that he liked the part where he made friends. “I liked that part too. I think that everyone should have friends. Don’t you, Mister Revenant?”
Friends were beautiful things! Gustave had a friend in his mother, and had managed to make a few other grown up friends there in the Manor, but there weren’t any other children fr him to play with, which made him sad sometimes.
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Post by Erik Revenant on May 26, 2013 2:01:39 GMT -5
“I guess…” Well, honestly, he didn’t care too much about whether everyone had friends. After all, he didn’t have any friends and he was no worse for the wear. In fact, he was far happier to be alone than to allow other people to get particularly close to him.
Now that the story was over, he couldn’t help but feel awkward while standing here and talking to a little boy about friends. Perhaps it was about time that he took his leave… So he stood up, glancing towards the door and then back towards the boy. “I have to go now… I have things I must attend to.” Yes, such as how to find his way around his place without being spotted and spoken to again.
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Post by Gustave de Chagny on May 30, 2013 22:07:30 GMT -5
The other man told Gustave that he had to go, a statement at which the boys expression darkened and turned a bit gloomy. It was nice while it lasted at least. After all, he didn’t have any other children to play with in this place, so when an adult took the time—even if it were only for a few minutes—to play with him or talk to him, it was rather nice.
“Goodbye, Mister Revenant,” the boy said, holding his book under one arm and waving at the masked man who had stood up with the other. “Thank you for reading with me.”
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