Apr 23, 2011 14:40
[low muttering can be heard as he collects himself before the camera, making certain he has activated it properly]
3
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108000
[He sobers as he looks down at the journal, deciding there can't be much left for him to do. When he speaks from there, it's quite naturally. Most who are unaffected would recognize the voice before the face, as the Marquis is at least 30 years younger than he was when he died. At least.]
This is rather a lovely dream, if confusing. The Bastille transformed to house so many of the comforts of home that I have missed, yet some are unexplained, some missing -- such is the work of the mind when one slumbers. My bed, my manuscripts, an unlocked door, a full bath...even a dog.
[the sound of a very young puppy barking in the background. Yes, Renate is affected too.]
For it to be perfect I should only need a comely beauty or two, bare as the day they were born performing all manner of lascivious acts upon my person. [He quirks an eyebrow.] I'm taking volunteers.
[...With more seriousness, he looks around.] I might have at least come to this fantasy with some better wine.
This contraption is very new, but I sense truths as one does within dreams, and I therefore know that others can speak to me. How scandalous.
(ooc: AAAH look at how freakishly young the Marquis is. Thank you, Photoshop. This is a test-run. The Marquis may request to de-age himself in the near future, in which case all of his default icons will be replaced.)
my wild and crazy youth,
tell me how awesome i am!,
flood,
tales to tell