It's a very average day at the Mansion, and Maledisant is bored. She's wandering the halls, looking for someone who might entertain her, but what she finds is far more entertaining than an unsuspecting Mansion resident
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Elured is by no means cruel, but let's face it, it's amusing - and since he's been more or less waiting for official permission to court his lady, well....
... he's been short on occasions to laugh, more so with his brother gaining more and more in independance.
That might be why he's joining in the laughing.
"Poor poet," he says, "to find fame too early is maybe worse than finding it none at all..."
"I cannot say I have, and now if I ever do I fear I will have to offer my condolences," Elured replies.
The lady's pretty, in a human way - impish like his Arianna, though he's now a little fixated on Sansa. He bows, though. "I've not had the honor, lady. I am Elured, Prince of Doriath."
Justin might appear aimless as he saunters around the Mansion, but he's looking for someone. Someone who is hidden so well, his magic can't even find. He pauses though, when he notices the poetry. He reads with every widening eyes, and he dramatically puts a hand over first his mouth and then his heart. "Oh, honey. This is so very bad," he laments, though it's not clear if he's talking about the poems themselves or the poor soul who wrote it.
The comment, and then the papers tacked up on the wall catch Canton's attention and then his curiosity, and he wanders over with his hands in his pockets. "Bad for who," he inquires once he gets close enough to recognize that it's poetry, "the person who wrote it or the people who have to read it?"
"Oh, honey," Justin says again, then looks over at Canton. "All of the above? And then some," he answers. He's in full-on drag today, so if he confuses the stranger, we're sorry. His voice is decidedly masculine, as are his muscles, but the blonde wig, make-up and dress are anything but. He taps his shoe, finger going to his cheek to tap in time. "Do you think the author put these up thinking they were -- good?" he whispers.
Canton notices, but he doesn't even blink. His normal method of dealing with the odd is to treat it as normal, absorb all the information he can, and deal with it later. On the other hand, it's almost certainly not the first time he's seen a man in drag, either. The more unusual thing is to see it done so openly.
"I don't know," he mutters back. "Maybe. Or someone else might have put them up thinking they were bad."
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She can be found over near the stolen poetry, giggling.
If only she had someone to share her amusement with.
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... he's been short on occasions to laugh, more so with his brother gaining more and more in independance.
That might be why he's joining in the laughing.
"Poor poet," he says, "to find fame too early is maybe worse than finding it none at all..."
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She means Fuchsia.
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The lady's pretty, in a human way - impish like his Arianna, though he's now a little fixated on Sansa. He bows, though. "I've not had the honor, lady. I am Elured, Prince of Doriath."
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"I don't know," he mutters back. "Maybe. Or someone else might have put them up thinking they were bad."
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Yay :D <3
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