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neutral_omens2005-12-12 03:47 pm
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Date: December 12, 1999
Status: Public
Setting: The Lobby
Summary: De Carabas arrives at the Manor
When the marquis blinked, he was in a lobby.
He blinked again, just at the strange sensation, then smiled. Door had done as he'd asked, after all. All of their debts were cleared. Nothing tied him to London Below any more... at least, nothing important. He looked around in interest at the nice room, amused when he considered how he must look: dirty Victorian garb, a ragged piece of cloth around his throat, frock coat still slightly unrecovered from its adventures among the Sewer Folk. He hadn't bathed recently, either; that was something he'd gotten used to, but knew others might find abhorrent. Especially having come from London Below, where it would really be prudent to bathe once a day, at least.
De Carabas walked up to the reception desk, ringing the small bell sitting there. He smiled, moving back to lean against the wall, relaxing against it. His eyes darted around the room, white in a dark face.
Status: Public
Setting: The Lobby
Summary: De Carabas arrives at the Manor
When the marquis blinked, he was in a lobby.
He blinked again, just at the strange sensation, then smiled. Door had done as he'd asked, after all. All of their debts were cleared. Nothing tied him to London Below any more... at least, nothing important. He looked around in interest at the nice room, amused when he considered how he must look: dirty Victorian garb, a ragged piece of cloth around his throat, frock coat still slightly unrecovered from its adventures among the Sewer Folk. He hadn't bathed recently, either; that was something he'd gotten used to, but knew others might find abhorrent. Especially having come from London Below, where it would really be prudent to bathe once a day, at least.
De Carabas walked up to the reception desk, ringing the small bell sitting there. He smiled, moving back to lean against the wall, relaxing against it. His eyes darted around the room, white in a dark face.
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"Your duties will involve workin' at the front desk here. We don't get a lot of folks comin' in, but somebody's gotta be here when they ring the bell like you just did. And you like to talk to people, and are charmin' and stuff, so I think you'll do a good job."
He waved an encompassing hand. "Well, welcome to the Manor. I hope you like it. I know it's nothin' like you're used to, but hopefully you won't mind too much. Would you like me to show you around or would you like to get settled into your room first?"
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He spread his arms wide, indicating a total lack of personal belongings. "I have nothing to put away," he said. "I'd like a tour, in fact. My duties..."--he grinned. The idea of working the front desk amused him.--"will be easier to perform if I'm familiar with the Manor."
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"Right then. Let's go this way first."
As Adam headed past the lobby, he snuck a look at the Christmas tree. What he saw made him very happy indeed. It wasn't perhaps the most beautiful tree in the world, but it was the most meaningful and he vowed to take a closer look later. Especially at the gifts which littered the base.
He led the marquis to the restaurant first.
"This is our restaurant," he explained. "Our maitre'd is Mr. Wednesday. He may be here somewhere..."
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"Are your staff and guests used to being displayed on these tours?" de Carabas asked.
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He was indulging in a glass of Jack and cheating at a game of solitaire when the kid walked in, a grungy looking man in tow.
*Great, another one.* He thought to himself. Probably some Christian demon or something. He'd seen enough running around. (To be honest, He was just waiting for the right time to start cheating them out of money, or just cheating them in general). The man, though, looked familiar on second glance. Wednesday, (never one to worry about 'polite' behaviour) was staring, trying to peer beneath layers of dirt and get a feel for the newcomer.
As the pair walked further into the room a mental puzzle piece fell into place. He stood and looked imperiously at the other man. "I know you."
*Odin's two ravens are thought and memory.
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"I wasn't expecting to see you," he said, "though I suppose not many people in this world would go by the name Mister Wednesday."
His grin turned sardonic, and he swept his gaze across the restaurant, as if assessing it. "Maitre'd of a restaurant, All-Father? But this place does seem to attract interesting people."
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He grinned and patted the Marquis gruffly on the shoulder (he would have given a hug, but, silk... you understand). I never would have figured you to leave London Below. They finally kick you're sorry, favor-owing, arse out?"
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He shook his head. "No, I came seeking protection. Two old enemies are back in the area, and I'm... not much good against him." He didn't seem happy to admit to such a thing.
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He winked at the marquis.
"Would you like to stay and chat or see more of the Manor?"
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"I'd be happy to show you around the manor, de Carabas*."
He turned to look down at Adam. Something had been bothering him ever since arriving, and he intended to take it up with the... boy. "Perhaps I can talk to you later, kid?" He tried to make it *not* sound like a request. He was a god. Gods didn't make requests. But somehow it still came out sounding... well... un-god-like and request-y. Damn. He turned back to de Carabas quickly.
"Would you like to see the bar, first, Marquis?"
*what would wednesday call the marquis?
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"I'm glad to talk to you anytime, Mr. Wednesday. Just come and find me. Marquis, if you need anythin' else, I'll be around."
Adam turned to leave but appeared to remember something and spun back.
"Oh, Marquis? While not every beautiful woman is a Hunter, the ones around here are, so be careful."
Then he left.
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Then Adam made his comment, and his eyes widened slightly. He may have paled, but it was impossible to tell. He turned to glance sharply at Adam, but the boy was already gone.
When he turned back to Wednesday, it was a wry grin, as he had quickly pulled himself together. "Does he do that sort of thing often?" he asked.
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Wednesday got knocked out of his reverie when the Marquis shifted at his side, (caught up in his own thoughts, apparently). Wednesday, ever practical, slapped a hand to the marquis shoulder,( nearly knocking him over), and cleared his throat. "Well, shall we?" and he lead the marquis in the direction of the bar.
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