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@debxssy
hey guys, i'm sorry, if you were wondering, replies will come tomorrow!
“You. Hurt me?” He slurred, half laughing as he pressed his forehead up against the door, “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
Hazel eyes closed under heavy lashes, he sucked in a deep, calming breath. Claude’s scent was thick as tar from this distance; even with the door between them it tempted him, called for him to give in. He needed more scotch.
"Go home, Claude." He snapped suddenly, slamming the door and flicking the lock. The thought of killing his only friend was unbearable to dwell on, though he’d never given into the urge before; he’d noticed his lust growing exceedingly difficult to resist.
[♫] "No." His answer was firm and had a degree of finality to it. He was a stubborn man-- always had been, and once Claude's mind was made up, no one could do anything to change it. "I'm not going to leave you here like this. We're friends. Friends don't leave each other in times of need. Unlock the door. I'm only acting in your benefit, Michael. You need to realize this." One of his hands was placed on the doorknob, desperately shaking and pulling at it, and the other was balled up into a fist. "I'm going to help you."
"A few minutes?" he paused, and turned back to glance over the room. ”Come in.” Skoll ushered the stranger in. His eyes went up and then down. The god had a habit of observing all.
[♫] "Merci. I promise, I will not cause much disturbance. If you have to know, Monsieur, my name is Claude Debussy. I-- I'm afraid I wouldn't like to disclose anything else. I assure you, though, I do not mean any harm to anybody."
"No! Piss off, I’m not seeing people right now.” He barked, slamming his foot by the door to prevent Claude from entering. Michael had fallen off the wagon, and no matter how urgently the other requested his presence, he wasn’t going to get it.
[♫] "Look, Michael, I know something isn't right. Let me come in. I promise, I'm not going to hurt you." Claude answered through the door, anxiety already having taken ahold of him. "I'm your friend."
"—that depends on who are you?”
[♫] "Would it really matter if I only stayed for a few minutes? I-- uh, I just need to hide from a few people." He'd made them angry, and as a matter of habit, he preferred to flee rather than fight.
[♫] "--May I come in?"
❝ —It does not bother me in the slightest, in fact appreciate poetry, I myself have written a few things, if I must confess❞
[♫] "Vraiment? I suppose there is something of a poet in all of us. The artistic side. This poem I know-- it is called "Beau Soir", which means "beautiful evening." It is in French, but I shall try my best to translate. It goes, uh, it goes like this in English: When the streams turn pink in the setting sun, and a slight shudder rushes through the wheat fields, a plea for happiness seems to rise out of all things and it climbs up towards the troubled heart. A plea to relish the charm of life while there is youth and the evening is fair, for we pass away as the wave passes: the wave to the sea, we to the grave." He hesitated on some points because of the translation, but every word was spoken with true appreciation for the poet. "It is one of my favorite poems. As a matter of fact, I wrote music based off of it."
Evelyn’s eyes kept darting around the room, afraid that the man she was so desperately trying to avoid could appear at any moment. Her head turned back to Claude, all of a sudden, when she heard the unfamiliar words spoken. “Um—” A hint of a smirk appeared on her lips as her gaze fell back on him, eyebrow raised. “Oh.. Oh! Yes, of course I would,” she said in response to his invitation. “That’s a habit of yours, you know,” she began. “Speaking French, I mean, when no one in your company is exactly fluent,” she added, with a small laugh.
[♫] "You must pardon me, mademoiselle. After having lived in France, it is a habit that is hard to break. I sometimes end up confusing people by throwing French in my sentences. You wouldn't believe it-- there are people who don't know I am from France until I start speaking French." Claude was a rather critical man-- and these things annoyed him to no end. De toute façon-- I mean, anyway, do you see the man anywhere? Is he here yet?"
[♫] "There's a poem that I know that seems rather-- fitting for this beautiful evening. Would you mind too much if I recited it? I am aware that it's probably not the most conventional thing to do, but I can't help it."
It all sounded very bizarre to her. The mere thought of doing something so absurd and looking like an utter fool caused a tingling sensation of repulsion to flood through her veins and almost made her convulse with the awareness of how embarrassing and humiliated she would feel as well as how she would seem to others, whether they were strangers or not, with the idea that perhaps her humiliation would imprint within their minds for future years to come and to laugh at. She did not want to make a spectacle of herself, at all.
“I have no intention of making a spectacle of myself, thank you.” She tried to say in the politest voice she could, although, even then it came out a little stern, a little opinionated.
[♫] "I am not asking you to make a spectacle of yourself, mademoiselle. I am simply asking for a favor. Couldn't you do it, for a man in need? All you have to do is say that you saw me somewhere else the night the man is accusing me of going out with his wife on. There's nothing about it that will "make a spectacle". I do not understand your strong and-- may I say-- unreasonable stance on this."
❝ It is a free art gushing forth -- an open-air art, boundless as the elements, the wind, the sky, the sea. It must never be shut in and become an academic art. ❞
♫ Independent roleplay blog for famed composer Claude Debussy. ♫ 5+ years roleplaying experience; 1+ year on Tumblr. ♫ Triggers and NSFW are tagged. ♫ Will do any length and any style of roleplaying. ♫ Multi-verse, multi-ship, crossover-friendly. ♫ Open to roleplaying with all fandoms and OCs. ♫ Always, always open to plotting and Skype/Kik available upon request. ♫ Mun is super-friendly and loves to scream about classical music.
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Hasselback Garlic Cheesy Bread
Lea smiles, “Yeah that’s sort of what America does. Pizza is nice in New York, but I haven’t found any that incredibly delicious.” And she’s a little surprised when she hears his request for a meal, “Really? A cheeseburger?” It’s not a bad request, she’s had a few good cheeseburgers nowadays, and she thinks about this little place that serves delicious burgers. “Yeah ,yeah, that’s fine. I know this little place a couple streets away—it’s really good.”
[♫] "Yes, really, a cheeseburger." Claude repeats, with wry amusement, a smile on his face at how the American girl seems to be tired of the food. "Bien. I'll meet you back here in fifteen minutes. What do you think I should wear? I brought shorts and pants, just in case. You see, I always like to be prepared to be well-dressed."
❝ i guess that makes sense .. ❞
pursing her lips, the young woman looked down. she wasn’t sure if she was keeping the man or not, but it certainly seemed as if he were on edge. with her arms crossed, she kicked a few pebbles around. well, they weren’t exactly pebbles. they were more like stray pieces of concrete.
❝ i don’t exactly 'ave the money to travel. which sucks, but i’d rather keep my apartment. ❞
she paused, looking back up at him; scratching the back of her neck.
❝ i hope i’m not keepin’ you. ❞
[♫] "Oh, non! Not at all, mademoiselle. My amie hasn't arrived yet. Tell me, is it a habit to be late here, in New York, as it is in France? Je jure, some of these traditions are confusing!" Claude really didn't appreciate the manners of his fellow countrymen-- the way they did things in America, though, seemed to fascinate him. He was about to add something when he came to the startling realization that they hadn't been introduced to each other just yet. "Oh, mon Dieu, did I tell you my name? Pardon, I forgot. I did not mean to be rude."
Aspen’s lips fell open in protest, wanting to argue that this place tomorrow would have the same risk it did today and the day before, but instead, just gave a small nod. Her hand trailed down his arm to meet his own hand adorning her waist, prying it off and intertwining their fingers before she was set to leave. “I..love you, too, despite this mess.” she sighed, the teasing smile the spread across her face moments before now faded. “I guess this is good bye, until tomorrow, that is..”
[♫] "You'll be doing injustice to me if you leave without kissing me." Claude couldn't help but add with a half-smile, bringing her hand up to his lips before kissing it. "I think about kissing you all day. I go out of my mind, every day, waiting for eight o'clock to come. I'm madly in love with you, Aspen-- don't ever think that isn't the case because I want to be cautious."
"Not safe?" Aspen questioned with a quick peek around before turning back, brushing her nose against his, "It doesn’t seem like anybody’s around.." She did, to an extent, understand the risks involved with being involved with the man but..that didn’t mean she minded nearly as much.
[♫] "You never know, Aspen, you never know." Claude was shaky and nervous all the same, because he didn't want to risk being caught; not while they could still see each other the following day. If they were seen together then, though, everything would be over. "I love you, but I don't want you to risk all that you have for these precious few minutes. Tomorrow night. Same time, same place. I swear I'll make it." When he spoke, his tone was in an urgent whisper, but a small part of him was reluctant to let go of her, given the way that he still had his arms wrapped around the woman.
"Oh shush up! Fred knows i’m crazy about him and though you are as cute as a button, you’re not my type, sweetheart. I have a thing for goofy dancers.” Ginger said with a mater of fact nod and a smile the size of Texas. “Yes we should’ve. We should’ve left at three instead of eight and you should’ve let me drive.” She said and laughed. The whole situation amused her and she honestly didn’t care what they did. She loved a good adventure.
[♫] "I'm glad. I was just making sure." Despite the unenviable situation that they were in, Claude couldn't help but smile at the sincerity and intensity of the relationship between Fred and Ginger. He hoped to find a relationship like that someday, too, and not just go from girl to girl without any real depth or feeling in those one-night stands. It had stopped holding interest for Claude by that point. "I'd let you drive now, but I don't think that would do any good. I suppose we'll just have to spend the night in the car. Si vous n'y voyez pas d'inconvénient? I hope you don't mind."