Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard.
Where anything goes.
-//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7
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Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard. Where anything goes. -//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7 |
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Friday, March 19, 2004 (Bumped - ed.) - War of Words, Part X.i - 31. Well, pardon me, but you could be more pleasant with your introductions. "And who, pray tell, is this rather harsh-sounding character?" asked a melancholic Pwyns Xjrmynq, who, far from leaping upright like a startled hare, did little more than incline his head to glance at the still-unopened door. "It's someone from the Palace, I should think," I replied, similarly irked by the unpleasantly arrogant tone which the newcomer assumed, with the further caveat that I could actually understand what he was saying, "He says his name's Io Aoi or something like that, and he wants us to open the door." "Then go, Charlotte, go as my most honoured representative," he murmured dolefully as he turned his head back to gaze wistfully into the blankness of the undecorated wall, "Your words have cut me to the bone, and it will take me some time to consider them fully. In the meantime, I apologise if I may seem unduly taciturn in my dealings with you and any other people." No problem at all with that, good my lord. In fact, it was largely his senseless babbling and threatening gestures which probably got me implicated in this whole scandal in the first place. "Will you hurry, you county lass," snarled that same uncouth person from behind the door, "A man of great prestige and fame like myself doesn't have all the time to waste waiting for crooks like you to open doors!" Doing my best to suppress my anger in the face of his abusive mouth and his demanding nature, I bit my tongue in an effort to prevent myself from belting out a reply as I opened the door. Behind that wooden panel, in the middle of the hallway, there stood a man in a plain cotton shirt and dusty grey trousers, who looked to be no older than the early thirties. He had neatly cropped brown hair, with a clean-shaven chin and a stiff upper lip, and he was of about average height, most adults whom I've seen so far in this foreign land being of similar heights as a general rule, just a little taller than I was. He seemed to be wearing an undue amount of accessories upon his clothing, the most prominent being several large pouches fastened with buttons placed at intervals around his belt, and the most redundant being a rimmed straw cap he wore which neatly shielded his forehead but sank all the way down his skull at the back. Quite a little ways down the corridor, however, I noticed another character, a buxom young lady in a large baggy dress stretching from shoulders to shoes which, despite its roominess failed to conceal her figure, who spotted my gaze through a monocled eye. Noticing how the new person had successfully begun the process of dealing with us, she quickly whirled around and darted down the corridor, lifting her dress as she went, obviously eager to be away from such a reprehensible character as the one whom I was now staring at. "If you're done admiring my looks, lass, do allow me to complement you on looking quite a fine little pretty yourself as well," he remarked disdainfully as I suddenly realised how long I had been standing in the doorway, speechless, "Unfortunately, I'm quite popular among the more well-developed ladies out there, so you certainly can't make the competition. And besides, I don't date criminals." Good looking? Him? Well, he was about as attractive as ... um ... a slightly meatier, short-haired, trouser-wearing version of Pwyns Xjrmynq, and if he ditched the lousy hat he'd probably do better. "I ... um, well ... yes," I stammered incoherently as I quickly dodged to one side to allow him to enter the room, and draw a deep breath of its perfumed, but undeniably stale air, "So you're the person sent from the Palace? What would you have with Pwyns Xjrmynq and I?" "Oh, my, what a well-mannered young lady you are!" he smirked condescendingly in a deliberately affected tone, "That's the only kind of girl worth liking, those who are meek and obedient. What does this princely trash have that I don't, huh, darling?" He reached a finger forward to stroke me childishly across the cheek, one that would have connected if I hadn't yanked myself backward at just the right time. It's too bad that he isn't the only kind of guy worth liking, the kind who's willing to respect us and treat us girls like real people. What Pwyns Xjrmynq's got? Maybe he's not a huge, dirty great bloated male chauvinist pig, for starters. And I thought I wasn't worthy of your notice? Nevertheless, until I actually found out more about just how he was supposed to 'deal' with us and the extent of his commission, I decided that it was best not to voice my obvious distaste for him lest he seize the opportunity for retribution upon us later. "Whatever," I muttered unconnectedly, hoping to bring an abrupt end to his amorous overtures, "Why don't you start by telling us what you want, and we'll cooperate as best as we can?" "Ooh, a lady of business, is it? I was hoping we could indulge in some pleasantries first. You're just like that really good-looking receptionist who showed me the way here." In immediately realising that you're an utterly incorrigible philanderer, hopefully. "Well ... heh heh ... I meant in the way you act, of course. You certainly don't look half as dishy as she does, hee hee hee!" "..." My face, already frozen into an unmoving pallor by his lascivious remarks beforehand, remained emotionless as I waited less than patiently for the scandalous slobberer to finish dreaming his fantasy, only twitching an eyelid when he finally realised that no one was approving of, or for that matter even listening to his incomprehensible indulgences. "Er, right! Ahem! So let me get down to business, like you said," he quickly resumed his composure, clearing his throat in an exaggerated manner, "If a foreign girl like you was thinking a man of such dazzling looks as I was a minister or a bishop, I'm sorry to tell you that you're wrong. I'm by far more handsome than the load of them put together (oh, groan ...). I'm just the messenger, under orders to send you two to the palace for further investigation. Of course, they made the right choice in picking me, because if it has to do with exciting adventure or pretty young maidens, I'm the one to look out for." Yep, absolutely. I'll look out for you ... so as to stay as far away from you as possible. "So ..." I hummed, hoping to cut his rambling in half, "What do you want us to do now?" "Nothing much, really ... my carriage is waiting outside to ferry the two of you to the Palace," he shrugged, before his eyes lit up again with that same perverse deviousness, "But I was hoping that we could spend a while getting to know each other first, eh? It's not nice having ... total strangers ... in the carriage with me, now is it?" That zany stare, deliberately deepened voice and that perfect set of teeth ... perfectly yellowed, that is, that was exposed by his perpetual grinning, when put together, was more than enough to induce me to regurgitate whatever little was in my stomach in the nearest receptacle. But for the sake of Pwyns Xjrmynq's quest ... and for my own sake, of course, I had to keep my cool. "Um, right. That guy sitting over there ("It's not him I'm interested in, you know, midarling?") on the couch is Pwyns Xjrmynq, heir to the throne of Consonance ..." Ignoring his unnecessarily injected comments, I inclined my head back to indicate the man leaning on the sofa, to find that far from appearing depressed and dismayed he was in fact watching the conversation between the playboy pervert and me rather intently, even sniggering a little while he was at it, not being able to understand that half of the conversation which so particularly irked me. "And I'm Charlotte ... Charlotte Tan." "Charlotte, eh? What a mysterious, foreign name! I do very much like girls with that little aura of suspense about them." You bet, I'm an incredibly high-strung person, and I'm hanging on tenterhooks, ready to punch your lights out if you make any false moves on me. "So what's your rank in all of this? You look the pretty well-off sort of girl. Are you one of those new and upcoming commanders, or maybe the daughter of a powerful duke or marquis?" "N ... nothing ..." I stammered as I took another step backwards, anxious to evade his pernicious glance, "I'm just a girl ... I don't have a job or a post or anything. It's Pwnys Xjrmynq who's the important one here. If you need to know anything about him or his objectives, you can ask me about it." "Oh, sure, there's a lot that I need to know!' he answered matter-of-factly with such straightforwardness I almost believed that he was finally getting serious, until he winked at me again as he spoke, "Like, for example, does he have any feelings for you? Or do you have anything in for him ... you know, that kind of thing? You see where I'm going, here?" Goodness. If he had asked me for my age, perhaps the understanding that his was approximately twice of mine would have been enough to silence him ... or perhaps it would only have encouraged him further. "Look, mister, that isn't really important here!" I had just about enough of his romatic overtures, not as if he looked remotely serious with them in the first place, and with my hands planted firmly on my hips it was clear that I had finally reached that breaking point, "I don't think there's any more you need to discuss about ... I mean, with me! Now, if you would please ..." "Thank you, my dear Xkwyr, for introducing me to the conversation," remarked a smooth, cultured voice rather casually as Pwnys Xjrmynq sidled up beside me, his robes neatly straightened, his face locked in the image of refinement, "I am Pwyns Xjrmynq, good my lord, heir to the throne of Consonance, and it is an excellent pleasure to meet you this blessed day, Sir ... Sir whatsit again?" As my companion held out a flushed and quivering, but all in all sincere hand to shake, I felt as if I had been hit by a brick wall, and promptly animated it as I bashed myself against the side of a wardrobe. For once, our vastly divergent streams of thought ... well, my stream and his miserable trickle were aligned as Io Aoi glared wonderingly at him, the foreign man, utterly nonplussed and not sure of just how to reply, that insecurity further reinforced by his inability to understand a word that was being spoken to him. Huh. How I wished, for the slightest second, that he would not understand me, and then I would yell out for him to get stuffed as loudly as I could. He stared at the outstretched hand for a moment before grasping it rather limply and replying as best as he could. "Well, normally I wouldn't shake hands with criminals, but with regards to your rank, and your undeniable charm in managing to snag a fair young maiden of such culture ("..." *sweat*), I'll make an exception. Good day to you, sir!" As if the cynicism in his voice was not already enough to display his insincerity, he shook Pwyns Xjrmynq's hand about as sincerely as one would thank a dead, clammy fish. In other words, he was an absolute stinker. Oddly enough, however, Pwyns Xjrmynq seemed to be more than delighted as he withdrew his hand, obviously rather inept in the reading of facial expressions. Or was it just me making assumptions? I don't have much experience in conversing with people who spoke in a language they knew I was obviously ignorant in. Nevertheless, as he tucked his hand into his pocket, he spoke up in a manner so chummy (for a prince ...) that one would think he had just met a good friend. "Glad to meet you to, sir, and thank you for your kind words. I'll have you know that I am hardly conversant in your language, so it would do you best if you could exchange a few words as to my mission with my faithful companion instead." Um, anybody say Catch-22? Or perhaps Pwyns Xjrmynq was just assuming, based on my discussion earlier, that the 'official' sent to us from the Palace would be someone capable of understanding his language, who had in turn incorrectly assumed that he was conversant in the local language as well. Heck, it doesn't make sense, but sense was one thing most profoundly lacking in any gathering of masculinity. "Right, I see ..." Io Aoi replied rather disjointedly, since it was clear that he too was unknowledgeable of the manner in which to interpret facial expressions, and that was all the more obvious, seeing as to how he failed to notice my displeasure at his unwelcome advances, "Well, you must know that I certainly hold her in very high regard. Don't worry about her, chap, I'll make sure she's treated as a fine and proper lady should." If Pwyns Xjrmynq's reply defied sense, the response to his words constituted an utter mockery of it. What was it with this fellow's seemingly endless obsession with the opposite sex? And why was someone who is supposed to be trained as a diplomat and a representative of state so inept in the basic arts of knowing when to speak and when to shut his mouth? Argh! Intelligent conversation, please! Imagine the pain of having to listen to them, I, the opponent of all things insensible! Intelligent conversation, I must have it! "Oh shut up, the two of you!" I shrieked, bursting with an impetuous rage formulated without serious thought but burning with all the negative emotion of it, "What's the point of trying to talk to each other, if they can't understand a single thing you're saying?" At my sudden exclamation, the pair of heads turned to glare at me, each hearing and interpreting apparently different words in their own language, but arriving at the same conclusion, and formulating the same response from it, I was so utterly terrified when each rolled their eyes and spoke in their own tongue, which I heard as one and the same, almost as if the pair of twin guards had returned to haunt me again. "What's it to you?" Words could not express the horror. "Look, we're supposed to be heading to the Palace from here," I groaned, trying to communicate to both men in as neutral a voice and choice of speech as much as possible, "So now that we've all met each other, shouldn't we be on our way? We can always, um, 'discuss' more on the carriage." I was actually particularly glad at both men's attempts to communicate with each other, for that meant that in futilely attempting to decipher what each other was saying, they would not be able to spend the time trying to annoy me in each of their own particular ways. However, the only reason why I wished them not to do so right now, was because I had to listen to both of them. And trust me, listening to a pair of morons discussing nonsense with each other was much more appalling than the most jarring noise or the most monotonous hum. "All right, let's go," murmured the mishmash of voices, which, eerily enough to my untrained ears, seemed to be saying the exact same thing once again, sending an unpleasant chill up my spine. "And stop saying exactly the same things as each other!" I exclaimed as I wrung out my hands in frustration, "Together, both of you sound as horrible ... almost as horrible as those two crazy guards! Just be quiet and leave, all right?" And they both turned to each other, blinked stupidly, and moved their lips in their silence, almost as if to simultaneously murmur, "Really? What's this crazy kid up to now?" I saw no need to prolong this insanity. Hiding my eyes by clapping a lock of hair over my face, I lowered my head and dodged their bodies, heading out the doorway and back to sunlight and sanity. - Your dear hunt seven deer - (Ran out of (already scarcely) witty comments. Shall post grammatically incorrect, but totally original anagrams instead.) posted by Charlotte | 3:22 pm
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Disclaimer : The Slayers and Filia Ul Copt and all images thereof are the property of Hajime Kanzaka and Rui Araizumi. I don't own any of them, although if I had a choice I would want Filia ... ~//n_n\\7 |
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