(no subject)
Who: Salazar and Theodore
What: Theodore comes to stay
Where: Salazar and Rowena's chambers
When: tonight
Rating: PG
Salazar paced around his chambers, anxiously the return of his king cobra with his protégé, Theodore. With Ronan asleep for the time being, and Rowena back in her lab, he was much lonelier than normal, and he could feel the aches for human interaction-- that was not from a two month old infant --in every fiber of his body. He forced himself to compose himself, to not let on how truly mad he was beginning to feel.
Theodore looked at the King Cobra skeptically for a few moments, wondering what Salazar had been thinking. After a long look at the snake, he gave a gaelic shrug and settled the strap of his leather overnight bag before grabbing the snake’s tail as instructed. He closed his eyes, following the motion of the snake, and was pleasantly surprised to see the dungeons when he opened them. "Sir."
"Theodore." Salazar had to bit his cheek to fight back the beaming smile threatening to take over his face at the sight of the boy. "Here. Let me take your bag." He approached Theodore, and was struck with the sudden urge, which he fought of, to hug him. He held his hand out to him.
Theodore pulled the strap from across his shoulders, passing the bag to the older man. It was pitifully small, though Theodore was not (by any stretch of the imagination) high matienence. He extended his hand and shook Salazar's, a small smile on his face. "I don't believe I've seen this part of your quarters."
Salazar threw the bag over his shoulder and looked about his chambers. "Nice, isn't it?" he said. "And what is it that the Spanish, or perhaps Mexicans say, I can't remember at the moment. Mi casa, su casa? Is that it? Oh well, we're British. It hardly matters what the Spaniards say, does it?" His words felt perfectly normal as they escaped his lips, though it was very rare for him to ramble on like that.
"It must have taken some work to redecorate. These dungeons like to try and deteriorate very quickly." He shook his head at his mentor's words, wondering a bit at the length. "The Spainiards are brutes. Nearly as bad as the Americans. I should hope their words would not matter."
"Americans," Salazar said the word with the utmost disgust. "Hate them. Though, I must say they are great for business ventures. Half of the properties I've sold were to foolish old American men with a slutty American gold digger on their arm. Lots of money to be made indeed."
"Well, they have to be good for something, I suppose." He added, considering.
Salazar nodded a bit fervorently, a most uncommon practice for him. "If I wanted to be completely specific with you, I would say that I am not British, but Anglo, as I was known in my first life. And even more specific," he went on, staring off across the room, "that I am Roman. My family came here in the early first century and had a habit of only procreating with those with Roman blood."
"Roman is hardly shameful," Theodore said softly. "I'm.. well, I'm British. Mostly Welsh, I believe. A bit of Scandinavian a few generations back. Though, Father wouldn't talk of them." He laughed softly, and moved to sit on a nearby chaise. "I almost missed the cool damp dungeons."
"Roman is proud, as is Scandinavian. I think I could even trace my roots back to ancient Egypt. Far, far back. On my mother's side, of course. That side is the only one worth even giving any thought to." Salazar sat the bag onto the floor and sat down in a chair close to Theodore. "My mother was the Parselmouth," he added. "The dungeons are wonderful in the warm summers."
"I believe our tapestry only goes back to the early twelve century. It's almost tragic. Or, would be, if I were concerned with my lineage before that point." Theodore watch Salazar sit down, a bit overwhelmed by the amount of chatter his mentor was indulging in. "Was she? I suppose it makes sense." He nodded at the last statement, agreeing.
"Why aren't you concerned with it? I think it's a most fascinating subject. I'd trace my line as far back as the dawn of time if I could. I would also like to find that my ancestors were in positions of power over the Muggles, a pharaoh perhaps. There is something very regal about Ancient Egypt, don't you think so?"
"It just does not interest me. They were likely poor farmers who raised just enough money - perhaps thieving from a fallen Viking - to buy a name and an ideal. I don't care to know more about the farmer, I'd rather focus on what came after." He shrugged, before reclining a bit. "Yes, there is something regal about Ancient Egypt. Terrifying, and wonderful."
Salazar nodded again, smiling evey so slightly. It felt so good to speak to someone, even about trivial things like lineage. "We should get your room settled," he said suddenly, just now remembering. He stood, and grabbed Theodore's bag from the floor.
"Oh, yes." Theodore stood, and followed after Salazar. Memorizing the everything on the route to his room. One snake insignia brought a thought to the front of his mind - "Who's been minding Jor? You must have been busy.."
"He's been minding himself," Salazar said, walking down a concealed hallway in his chamber. He stopped at a door with "Eva" in script writing burned into the wood. "He helps me with Ronan. Serpents are very good and sensing emotions, you know. Jor has simply been a god send. He saves me from trying to figure out what is wrong when Ronan cries."
"That's something atleast."
Salazar nodded, and opened the door. Inside was nothing more than a large, grand, four-posted wooden bed, a large wooden wardrobe. The wall on the left side of the room was completely covered in a large mirror. The room was very dusty, but it was nothing Salazar's elf couldn't handle. He walked into the room, waving his hand in front of his face to blow the dust away, and set the bag onto the bed. "Well. What do you want done with it?"
"New bedding, perhaps a little less dust." He grinned and moved towards the bed, slapping the fabric he watched the dust fly up. "That mirror could be a bit.. obscene." He remarked, rather dryly.
"If you knew my daughter, it would make perfect sense." Salazar chuckled, and opened the wardrobe. Nothing in there but yet another mirror. I'll have my elf take care it."
Theodore raised his eyebrow slightly as he turned to take in the full length mirror. "Dippy can help. I'm sure she knows what I want far better than I do." He said, mentioning his own elf.
Salazar laughed again, a bit louder this time. "Do you want the mirror covered?"
"No," he said, grinning. "It's fine." He watched Salazar through the reflecting glass, very close to laughing. Though he couldn't say why.
"She was a very vain young girl..." Salazar said about his daughter, intentionally trailing off so Theodore could fill in the last himself.
"Most girls are. I can't understand them."
"Most of the time it's hardly worth it. For example, I will never understand their giggling. Thank the gods that Rowena doesn't giggle. I wouldn't be able to stand it." Salazar snapped his fingers and his elf appeared. He gave it orders to take care of the room, and to find Theodore's elf.
"Rowena is a prince amoung women, I think." He shook his head, again. "She isn't... soft."
"She is most unlike any woman I've ever met. Her equal would only be my first wife or perhaps my favourite mistress, and even then the differences are astounding." Salazar stepped back into the corridor, and waited for Theodore to follow before going back into the main room.
Theodore followed Salazar quickly, content to let the elves work. "Beyond the political reasons, why should I be here?"
"The pleasure of my company." Salazar worded it just so, as to not let on how desperate he himself was for company.
Theodore nodded, "It also gives me a handy alibi for when the poison takes effect."
Salazar nodded, and sat down in the chair he vacated earlier. "That too."
"What will I have to do here?" He asked, hoping 'interacting with the halfbloods' wouldn't be the answer.
"Make yourself seen every so often." He shrugged. "That's it."
"Seems rather foolproof."
"Attempt to make an effort to help," he said. "Say it to someone who appears to be very busy, and say it low enough that they cannot hear you."
"Lest they actually find a job for me. Cleaning bedpans or something equally disgusting."
Salazar shivered at the thought. "That is so beneath you."
"I like to think so, as well." He crossed his arms, as if cold.
Salazar looked at the clock above the fireplace. "It's getting late," he commented. "A few things you should know, though most of them are quite obvious. First, you can go into my office if you want to read a book that is not in here or in the library, but stay out of my desk. The same goes for Rowena's desk--" He pointed to a desk in the corner, and then to his bedroom "-- and our bedroom. Otherwise you are free to roam our chambers as you wish. The bathroom is there--" he pointed to a door behind him, "-- and we have both a shower and bath tub. And most importantly, whatever you do, do not piss Rowena off."
"I am hardly the type to snoop," Theodore said in response to the rules. Though, he thought they were rather simple and straightforward. "I'll try not to talk to her at all. Or, will that piss her off, as well?"
"She hardly comes in anymore, usually only at the end of the day. But just in case, it would be best to simply be courteous to her, which I am sure you will have no problem with. Though I really doubt you will see her much. She spends most of time in her lab, tending to the ill."
"That doesn't surprise me." He stood up, wandering in the general vicinity of his room. "I can be very courteous. Though, if I were to be in the chambers, I'll probably stay within the room. Unless I'm out here," He moved his arm in a sweeping gesture, "with you."
"I think that's in then," he said, standing again. "People are still having meals in the great hall, but I wouldn't mind if you chose to eat in here. I always do." Jor slithered over to Salazar, waiting to be let into the bedroom. "If you hear whimpers of pain, it's only Jor eating. I need to get to sleep now. Ronan will have me up in a few--" He was interrupted by Ronan's cries. Salazar gritted his teeth in frustration. "Well that takes care of that. Good night." And with that, Salazar, with Jor slithering behind him, retreated into his bedroom.
What: Theodore comes to stay
Where: Salazar and Rowena's chambers
When: tonight
Rating: PG
Salazar paced around his chambers, anxiously the return of his king cobra with his protégé, Theodore. With Ronan asleep for the time being, and Rowena back in her lab, he was much lonelier than normal, and he could feel the aches for human interaction-- that was not from a two month old infant --in every fiber of his body. He forced himself to compose himself, to not let on how truly mad he was beginning to feel.
Theodore looked at the King Cobra skeptically for a few moments, wondering what Salazar had been thinking. After a long look at the snake, he gave a gaelic shrug and settled the strap of his leather overnight bag before grabbing the snake’s tail as instructed. He closed his eyes, following the motion of the snake, and was pleasantly surprised to see the dungeons when he opened them. "Sir."
"Theodore." Salazar had to bit his cheek to fight back the beaming smile threatening to take over his face at the sight of the boy. "Here. Let me take your bag." He approached Theodore, and was struck with the sudden urge, which he fought of, to hug him. He held his hand out to him.
Theodore pulled the strap from across his shoulders, passing the bag to the older man. It was pitifully small, though Theodore was not (by any stretch of the imagination) high matienence. He extended his hand and shook Salazar's, a small smile on his face. "I don't believe I've seen this part of your quarters."
Salazar threw the bag over his shoulder and looked about his chambers. "Nice, isn't it?" he said. "And what is it that the Spanish, or perhaps Mexicans say, I can't remember at the moment. Mi casa, su casa? Is that it? Oh well, we're British. It hardly matters what the Spaniards say, does it?" His words felt perfectly normal as they escaped his lips, though it was very rare for him to ramble on like that.
"It must have taken some work to redecorate. These dungeons like to try and deteriorate very quickly." He shook his head at his mentor's words, wondering a bit at the length. "The Spainiards are brutes. Nearly as bad as the Americans. I should hope their words would not matter."
"Americans," Salazar said the word with the utmost disgust. "Hate them. Though, I must say they are great for business ventures. Half of the properties I've sold were to foolish old American men with a slutty American gold digger on their arm. Lots of money to be made indeed."
"Well, they have to be good for something, I suppose." He added, considering.
Salazar nodded a bit fervorently, a most uncommon practice for him. "If I wanted to be completely specific with you, I would say that I am not British, but Anglo, as I was known in my first life. And even more specific," he went on, staring off across the room, "that I am Roman. My family came here in the early first century and had a habit of only procreating with those with Roman blood."
"Roman is hardly shameful," Theodore said softly. "I'm.. well, I'm British. Mostly Welsh, I believe. A bit of Scandinavian a few generations back. Though, Father wouldn't talk of them." He laughed softly, and moved to sit on a nearby chaise. "I almost missed the cool damp dungeons."
"Roman is proud, as is Scandinavian. I think I could even trace my roots back to ancient Egypt. Far, far back. On my mother's side, of course. That side is the only one worth even giving any thought to." Salazar sat the bag onto the floor and sat down in a chair close to Theodore. "My mother was the Parselmouth," he added. "The dungeons are wonderful in the warm summers."
"I believe our tapestry only goes back to the early twelve century. It's almost tragic. Or, would be, if I were concerned with my lineage before that point." Theodore watch Salazar sit down, a bit overwhelmed by the amount of chatter his mentor was indulging in. "Was she? I suppose it makes sense." He nodded at the last statement, agreeing.
"Why aren't you concerned with it? I think it's a most fascinating subject. I'd trace my line as far back as the dawn of time if I could. I would also like to find that my ancestors were in positions of power over the Muggles, a pharaoh perhaps. There is something very regal about Ancient Egypt, don't you think so?"
"It just does not interest me. They were likely poor farmers who raised just enough money - perhaps thieving from a fallen Viking - to buy a name and an ideal. I don't care to know more about the farmer, I'd rather focus on what came after." He shrugged, before reclining a bit. "Yes, there is something regal about Ancient Egypt. Terrifying, and wonderful."
Salazar nodded again, smiling evey so slightly. It felt so good to speak to someone, even about trivial things like lineage. "We should get your room settled," he said suddenly, just now remembering. He stood, and grabbed Theodore's bag from the floor.
"Oh, yes." Theodore stood, and followed after Salazar. Memorizing the everything on the route to his room. One snake insignia brought a thought to the front of his mind - "Who's been minding Jor? You must have been busy.."
"He's been minding himself," Salazar said, walking down a concealed hallway in his chamber. He stopped at a door with "Eva" in script writing burned into the wood. "He helps me with Ronan. Serpents are very good and sensing emotions, you know. Jor has simply been a god send. He saves me from trying to figure out what is wrong when Ronan cries."
"That's something atleast."
Salazar nodded, and opened the door. Inside was nothing more than a large, grand, four-posted wooden bed, a large wooden wardrobe. The wall on the left side of the room was completely covered in a large mirror. The room was very dusty, but it was nothing Salazar's elf couldn't handle. He walked into the room, waving his hand in front of his face to blow the dust away, and set the bag onto the bed. "Well. What do you want done with it?"
"New bedding, perhaps a little less dust." He grinned and moved towards the bed, slapping the fabric he watched the dust fly up. "That mirror could be a bit.. obscene." He remarked, rather dryly.
"If you knew my daughter, it would make perfect sense." Salazar chuckled, and opened the wardrobe. Nothing in there but yet another mirror. I'll have my elf take care it."
Theodore raised his eyebrow slightly as he turned to take in the full length mirror. "Dippy can help. I'm sure she knows what I want far better than I do." He said, mentioning his own elf.
Salazar laughed again, a bit louder this time. "Do you want the mirror covered?"
"No," he said, grinning. "It's fine." He watched Salazar through the reflecting glass, very close to laughing. Though he couldn't say why.
"She was a very vain young girl..." Salazar said about his daughter, intentionally trailing off so Theodore could fill in the last himself.
"Most girls are. I can't understand them."
"Most of the time it's hardly worth it. For example, I will never understand their giggling. Thank the gods that Rowena doesn't giggle. I wouldn't be able to stand it." Salazar snapped his fingers and his elf appeared. He gave it orders to take care of the room, and to find Theodore's elf.
"Rowena is a prince amoung women, I think." He shook his head, again. "She isn't... soft."
"She is most unlike any woman I've ever met. Her equal would only be my first wife or perhaps my favourite mistress, and even then the differences are astounding." Salazar stepped back into the corridor, and waited for Theodore to follow before going back into the main room.
Theodore followed Salazar quickly, content to let the elves work. "Beyond the political reasons, why should I be here?"
"The pleasure of my company." Salazar worded it just so, as to not let on how desperate he himself was for company.
Theodore nodded, "It also gives me a handy alibi for when the poison takes effect."
Salazar nodded, and sat down in the chair he vacated earlier. "That too."
"What will I have to do here?" He asked, hoping 'interacting with the halfbloods' wouldn't be the answer.
"Make yourself seen every so often." He shrugged. "That's it."
"Seems rather foolproof."
"Attempt to make an effort to help," he said. "Say it to someone who appears to be very busy, and say it low enough that they cannot hear you."
"Lest they actually find a job for me. Cleaning bedpans or something equally disgusting."
Salazar shivered at the thought. "That is so beneath you."
"I like to think so, as well." He crossed his arms, as if cold.
Salazar looked at the clock above the fireplace. "It's getting late," he commented. "A few things you should know, though most of them are quite obvious. First, you can go into my office if you want to read a book that is not in here or in the library, but stay out of my desk. The same goes for Rowena's desk--" He pointed to a desk in the corner, and then to his bedroom "-- and our bedroom. Otherwise you are free to roam our chambers as you wish. The bathroom is there--" he pointed to a door behind him, "-- and we have both a shower and bath tub. And most importantly, whatever you do, do not piss Rowena off."
"I am hardly the type to snoop," Theodore said in response to the rules. Though, he thought they were rather simple and straightforward. "I'll try not to talk to her at all. Or, will that piss her off, as well?"
"She hardly comes in anymore, usually only at the end of the day. But just in case, it would be best to simply be courteous to her, which I am sure you will have no problem with. Though I really doubt you will see her much. She spends most of time in her lab, tending to the ill."
"That doesn't surprise me." He stood up, wandering in the general vicinity of his room. "I can be very courteous. Though, if I were to be in the chambers, I'll probably stay within the room. Unless I'm out here," He moved his arm in a sweeping gesture, "with you."
"I think that's in then," he said, standing again. "People are still having meals in the great hall, but I wouldn't mind if you chose to eat in here. I always do." Jor slithered over to Salazar, waiting to be let into the bedroom. "If you hear whimpers of pain, it's only Jor eating. I need to get to sleep now. Ronan will have me up in a few--" He was interrupted by Ronan's cries. Salazar gritted his teeth in frustration. "Well that takes care of that. Good night." And with that, Salazar, with Jor slithering behind him, retreated into his bedroom.