![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
bitterness without a name
Nov. 9th, 2011 04:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
payglorytoashes.livejournal.comWho: ILDE and RODOLPHUS
What: a gift!
Where: a coffee house that is not Queequeg's
When: afternoon... sometime...
Notes: if I say "girl you in danger" that's actually directed at Rodolphus
Warnings: inappropriate poetry
It is still a fine enough day that sitting outside to drink coffee is pleasant, and so Rodolphus has arranged, somewhat abruptly, to meet with Ilde, whom he still thinks of as 'the girl from the fog trip'. Sometimes, as now, 'who gave me the brooch' is appended to that.
There is something about the virtually motionless, straight-backed way he sits that simply does not look comfortable, yet one may get the impression he could easily maintain the position for hours. His manner of dress rarely varies, which was convenient in the event of Dean's funeral; it's still tailored charcoal grays and blacks, though of course, he forwent the brooch at that time. It is on right now, naturally, the same way one wears the sweater their aunt sent them when meeting that aunt. But he genuinely likes the brooch, at least as much as he likes anything, which is why there is a book lying next to his cup of expresso. It is a little worn and not, on first glance, much to look at, but there is still a trace of gilt on the leather cover, and the pages are very well preserved. The illustrations inside are black and white, a little grim, a little bold, definitely strange.
A younger man might fidget, check the time, look around, or inspect his prospective gift. Rodolphus stares off in the distance, perhaps thinking, perhaps not. He is aware of his surroundings, but they are relatively unimportant.
What: a gift!
Where: a coffee house that is not Queequeg's
When: afternoon... sometime...
Notes: if I say "girl you in danger" that's actually directed at Rodolphus
Warnings: inappropriate poetry
It is still a fine enough day that sitting outside to drink coffee is pleasant, and so Rodolphus has arranged, somewhat abruptly, to meet with Ilde, whom he still thinks of as 'the girl from the fog trip'. Sometimes, as now, 'who gave me the brooch' is appended to that.
There is something about the virtually motionless, straight-backed way he sits that simply does not look comfortable, yet one may get the impression he could easily maintain the position for hours. His manner of dress rarely varies, which was convenient in the event of Dean's funeral; it's still tailored charcoal grays and blacks, though of course, he forwent the brooch at that time. It is on right now, naturally, the same way one wears the sweater their aunt sent them when meeting that aunt. But he genuinely likes the brooch, at least as much as he likes anything, which is why there is a book lying next to his cup of expresso. It is a little worn and not, on first glance, much to look at, but there is still a trace of gilt on the leather cover, and the pages are very well preserved. The illustrations inside are black and white, a little grim, a little bold, definitely strange.
A younger man might fidget, check the time, look around, or inspect his prospective gift. Rodolphus stares off in the distance, perhaps thinking, perhaps not. He is aware of his surroundings, but they are relatively unimportant.
