In Rooms Owned and Let

[henrik_paulsen]

It is, Henrik realizes swiftly, nearly impossible to prepare for both a few hours' work at the Labyrinth of Tigers and for a party. Particularly for a party hosted by the woman whose nose he had bloodied. Ought he to bring her a gift? Ought he to wear the tailcoat, or will the overcoat do? If the tailcoat, could he leave it in any place in the

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[g_coppercrow]

Gabriel enters the bookshop, nods to the attendant behind the counter, and climbs the stairs to the rooms above. He tries to make as much noise as practical, so that he doesn't surprise anyone; he has a habit of moving too quietly, sometimes.

[henrik_paulsen]

Even so, Henrik is preoccupied with tying his cravat as he paces the corridor--and at the end of a circuit, he may look up just in time to avoid crashing into Gabriel. "Ah, hello! My apologies; I'm normally more observant--"

[g_coppercrow]

"No, no, the fault is mine, I must not have been loud enough-"

[henrik_paulsen]

"Not at all; I should have been surprised if I heard a swarm of elephants. It's Ms Fnord's party, you see," he says, with a faintly terrified expression. "We've spoken so little since Scarlet's soiree, and I fear she'll remember nothing but how I bloodied her nose."

[g_coppercrow]

Gabriel grimaced, remembering. "Oh dear. Well, perhaps you'll have to make an effort to create new and less-bloody memories for her tonight?"

[henrik_paulsen]

"That's my intention, but I'm less than sanguine about my prospects." Henrik? Punning? Never! "And you? Will you be attending?"

[g_coppercrow]

The smile Gabriel cannot not keep from his face (being, after all, uncommonly fond of wordplay) still cannot mask the flash of nervousness that crosses his face. "Well, I had planned on it. However, circumstances being what they are, I am…unsure whether my attendance would be…" He stares down at the floor for a moment, smile gone. "I am not positive I could navigate social obligations with my usual aplomb, tonight." And I could not bear to see him right now, particularly after last night.

[henrik_paulsen]

"Well--of course you needn't go, if you'd prefer not to. I'd simply had the impression that you were the sort of man who required social interactions to maintain his equilibrium."

[classicalegoist]

This is not what he meant. Yes, the orchestra is his, and they play instruments of glass and cloud, light and water; dancers float above the stage, the tips of long trains kissing the floor. The hall is old, old, a crumbling amphitheater, open to the sky. Like branches to sunlight, men and women lean from a lush forest of seats.

But then she, her hands red on his, whirls him to face her. The conductor's baton clatters and he can hear no music, only her laughter. He can see no color -- only the blood on her hands, sticking to his --

Please, she says, and the music begins again but discordant and wild. The dancers turn and turn, and soon he and the Red-Handed Queen are turning with them, rising into the air. Please, she says, and he wants to say yes, yes, but no --

With the next turn he sees the audience has gone; instead the seats are filled with cats, yellow-eyed and unimpressed.

Narciso fades from a honey-dream on to a chair not far from Gabriel, and clambers from it, shouting.

[g_coppercrow]

"Narciso," Gabriel says his name firmly but placidly, as if a man waking violently near him were nothing out of the ordinary.

[classicalegoist]

"Ah -- !" He stares at Gabriel with eyes wide and slow to focus, before flickering on a smile. "Ah, it's you."

[g_coppercrow]

Gabriel smiles calmly. "Yes, it's me. Not a good dream this time?"