A Mere Quelque Chose [Active]
Character(s): Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts
Content: The servants discuss their progress... or lack thereof.
Setting: Beast's apartment
Time: Evening
Warnings: None
There had been a change in her. A change Lumiere could have never predicted. He was enthralled, amazed, and, well, admittedly a little worried. One could not help but feel such way. Although, Lumiere did suspect that, perhaps, Cogsworth had rubbed off on him. As frightening a thought as that was, it could have been true. The change was indeed good there was no doubt about that. It was more than what they could have ever hoped for. It was the lack there of in him they had to worry about. There had been an unmistakeable change in the Master. The problem was that it had not been at the same rate as that in the girl. Lumiere was patient. The rose, however, was not. There were no second chances.
Resting atop one of the apartments wide and wooden windowsills, Lumiere watched the ongoings on the street below as he patiently awaited the others. He could not recall that last time he had called a meeting among his fellow servants. That too had generally been something Cogsworth would do. These, however, were different times. And, as it would seem, now was as good a time as any for change. Lumiere chuckled to himself, witnessing a citizen be struck in the head by a snowball thrown by another. He could easily imagine doing the same to Cogsworth, Chip at his side as Mrs. Potts scolded them both. But soon he found himself wrapped in another thought; how would it feel to place his hands, not wicks, in the cold snow. Would he ever know that feeling again?
Content: The servants discuss their progress... or lack thereof.
Setting: Beast's apartment
Time: Evening
Warnings: None
There had been a change in her. A change Lumiere could have never predicted. He was enthralled, amazed, and, well, admittedly a little worried. One could not help but feel such way. Although, Lumiere did suspect that, perhaps, Cogsworth had rubbed off on him. As frightening a thought as that was, it could have been true. The change was indeed good there was no doubt about that. It was more than what they could have ever hoped for. It was the lack there of in him they had to worry about. There had been an unmistakeable change in the Master. The problem was that it had not been at the same rate as that in the girl. Lumiere was patient. The rose, however, was not. There were no second chances.
Resting atop one of the apartments wide and wooden windowsills, Lumiere watched the ongoings on the street below as he patiently awaited the others. He could not recall that last time he had called a meeting among his fellow servants. That too had generally been something Cogsworth would do. These, however, were different times. And, as it would seem, now was as good a time as any for change. Lumiere chuckled to himself, witnessing a citizen be struck in the head by a snowball thrown by another. He could easily imagine doing the same to Cogsworth, Chip at his side as Mrs. Potts scolded them both. But soon he found himself wrapped in another thought; how would it feel to place his hands, not wicks, in the cold snow. Would he ever know that feeling again?