Lars has heard about the incident with the student Jonathan Rhys Meyers in the training hall. He still has to talk to him about the incident in Professor Bluth's kitchen, and why not take care of two things at one
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Ynez is sitting in what she thinks of as the living room in her quarters, doing her fingernails. There's only so much of Millenium of Magic that she can take at one time before being rendered comatose, if not actually brain-damaged. And her nails really are a mess.
She looks up in surprise as an owl flutters into one of the open windows and sticks its leg out at her.
Surprise instantly turns to sheer terror. She falls off the comfy chair in her haste to put it between her and that evil bird. That's not enough though, so she scuttles on her hands and knees behind the couch, which provides a much larger and heavier shield.
After a few minutes, the owl hoots at her in a puzzled fashion. It's never had a person act like this before and it doesn't know what to do.
Her heart almost leaps from her chest at the frightening sound.
"Go away, tetzauhtototl! Go away and never come back! I don't accept your presence or your omens and you can't have what you came for!"
Eventually, the owl decides that it's silly to wait any longer, so it returns to the man who sent it, message still tied to its leg.
A little while after that Ynez peeps out to see what it's doing. She moves fast to close and lock the wondow, swearing to herself that all the windows will stay shut for the rest of the time she's here, no matter how stuffy the rooms get.
Lars is just as puzzled as his owl, Henry, is as he comes to find his owl - but the original message still attacked. He frees Henry from the message and gives him several treats, kissing him gently.
"Come on... let's see why Ynez didn't want your message."
Carrying Henry on his shoulder, Lars makes his way over to Ynez' quarters and knocks at the door.
The owl. What the hell is wrong with Henry? Seeing that Ynez won't open the door for now, he tells Henry to fly back to his office, promising more treats to him.
"Henry's gone, Ynez." He still has the letter with him, though. Why waste a perfectly good letter?
"I'll try to remember not to." Lars nods and takes a look around Ynez' room before sitting down on the couch, waiting for her to finally read the letter.
That sounds sarcastic but it isn't meant to be. She'd have invited him to sit down already if the damned owl hadn't scared the wits out of her.
"Can I offer you anything to drink?"
Ynez's rooms are furnished with all the personal things that she had brought back with her from Brazil and then moved from Los Angeles. The wooden floor is covered with brightly covered hand-woven rugs and she's hung similar ones on the walls to cover the cold plaster and stone. There's the couch and a couple of comfy chairs and a coffee table, and bookcases with the books she didn't want in her office. There are a few occasional tables with some of her little bagatelas on them. There's a small writing desk, where she's already covered the surface in papers and pictures of her husnand and family, just like she has the mantel over the fireplace. A huge old-fashioned radio is sitting on a table near the door into the bedroom.
Then there are drums, of course. The really big ones are up here because there isn't any room in her office. And her drum kit, the one she plays for fun, that's here too, taking up a corner of the room opposite the fireplace. There's no such things too many rototoms. That's Ynez's motto. Or one of them.
She looks up in surprise as an owl flutters into one of the open windows and sticks its leg out at her.
Surprise instantly turns to sheer terror. She falls off the comfy chair in her haste to put it between her and that evil bird. That's not enough though, so she scuttles on her hands and knees behind the couch, which provides a much larger and heavier shield.
After a few minutes, the owl hoots at her in a puzzled fashion. It's never had a person act like this before and it doesn't know what to do.
Her heart almost leaps from her chest at the frightening sound.
"Go away, tetzauhtototl! Go away and never come back! I don't accept your presence or your omens and you can't have what you came for!"
Eventually, the owl decides that it's silly to wait any longer, so it returns to the man who sent it, message still tied to its leg.
A little while after that Ynez peeps out to see what it's doing. She moves fast to close and lock the wondow, swearing to herself that all the windows will stay shut for the rest of the time she's here, no matter how stuffy the rooms get.
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"Come on... let's see why Ynez didn't want your message."
Carrying Henry on his shoulder, Lars makes his way over to Ynez' quarters and knocks at the door.
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She opens the door to see Lars standing there. With that owl on his shoulder!
She slams the door in his face.
"I told you I was sorry! That's not nice, Lars! Not at all!" she wails.
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Lars knocks again, wondering what that just was about.
"Ynez? What... that's not why I'm here! What... what is up?"
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No way she's opening the door again, not while that bird is out there.
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"Henry's gone, Ynez." He still has the letter with him, though. Why waste a perfectly good letter?
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"The owl is called Henry?"
Who calls an owl Henry?
ooc - I get to use the peeping icon!!!!!!
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"May I come in now?"
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"Okay."
She opens the door and steps back.
"How are you?"
She bites her lip.
"Your eyebrows hardly look like they were singed at all."
And that's good, right?
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"I... Ynez, I sent Henry to deliver you this letter." Lars holds the letter out to Ynez. "It's how we deliver messages in the castle."
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"Why would you do something like that?"
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"The letter. Read it."
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"Don't send me anything by owl anymore."
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That sounds sarcastic but it isn't meant to be. She'd have invited him to sit down already if the damned owl hadn't scared the wits out of her.
"Can I offer you anything to drink?"
Ynez's rooms are furnished with all the personal things that she had brought back with her from Brazil and then moved from Los Angeles. The wooden floor is covered with brightly covered hand-woven rugs and she's hung similar ones on the walls to cover the cold plaster and stone. There's the couch and a couple of comfy chairs and a coffee table, and bookcases with the books she didn't want in her office. There are a few occasional tables with some of her little bagatelas on them. There's a small writing desk, where she's already covered the surface in papers and pictures of her husnand and family, just like she has the mantel over the fireplace. A huge old-fashioned radio is sitting on a table near the door into the bedroom.
Then there are drums, of course. The really big ones are up here because there isn't any room in her office. And her drum kit, the one she plays for fun, that's here too, taking up a corner of the room opposite the fireplace. There's no such things too many rototoms. That's Ynez's motto. Or one of them.
mix and match photos from here
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Lars is getting sort of impatient. Sure, he could just tell her what's in the letter, but he doesn't like repeating himself.
"Nothing fancy."
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