Post by Frankenpetey on Nov 23, 2008 13:55:30 GMT -5
I'm in your forums, spammin' your boards. This is the last of the (rather small) backlog on my computer. This time I'm trying Teisel's point of view instead, so hopefully it turned out all right. I also experimented a bit with an intro of sorts. I'm not completely happy with it, but...
I left it open-ened, just in case I feel like continuing the scene, but I don't know. It would probably go into some creepy territory, knowing me.
"A Night Out"
Teisel tugged at the sleeves of his favorite jacket. To be accurate, it was probably two or three of his favorite jackets by now, lovingly patched and mended more times than he could count. He was especially proud of the left sleeve, which had had to be completely replaced after a run-in with one of the Gustaff's motor belts. It hadn't been the first time that jacket had taken a hit for him, and he'd been careful to find material that was very nearly the same shade of not-quite-red (it was corduroy, but nothing in life was perfect). The thing was sturdy and comfortable and fit him perfectly.
A not-quite-red jacket with a dozen mends and one corduroy sleeve did not blend in well in an upscale restaurant. The stares were making his back tingle.
"My goodness, you're restless tonight. What's troubling you, dear?"
Teisel glared across the table, which was a little too small and intimate for his liking, at his companion. He still wasn't sure how Glyde had conned him into wasting his evening like this. "Everyone's staring at me," he muttered. That hadn't sounded nearly as embarrassing in his head. Damn it.
Glyde disguised his snickers with a delicate cough. "Yes, well, you are a walking dress code violation. I'm quite surprised that the maitre d let you in without a bribe. Honestly, if I'd known that you didn't have anything to wear, I'd have gotten something for you." He fluttered his eyelashes in a particularly infuriating way. "All you have to do is ask, Teisel dear. Helping a friend fallen on hard times is one of life's small joys, is it not?"
"You're no friend of mine," Teisel snapped, drawing a sidelong glance from the elderly woman at the next table. Sighing, he crossed his arms and fought the urge to lean his chair back. "And I need your 'help' like I need a hole in the head."
The smirk that was Glyde's default expression was in full force tonight. "Now, now," he tutted, "don't be that way. I thought we'd put all this childish animosity behind us." He sipped at a glass of wine that was probably worth several kilos of tempered steel and regarded Teisel with uncomfortable intensity, just for a moment. "And here I thought I'd give you a pleasant evening away from the children."
"You abducted me."
"That was two years ago."
"You used me as slave labor."
Glyde waved a hand dismissively. "Surely you're not still angry about that."
"You tried to kill my family."
"You know, it's very unbecoming of a gentleman to hold a grudge," Glyde scolded. "Of course, I suppose the term doesn't really apply to you." He tipped his head to one side thoughtfully.
Teisel was trying very hard not to grind his teeth to powder. "My point is," he growled, "one lousy dinner isn't going to make up for all that."
"Goodness, did you think I'd rid myself of you right after dinner? That would be so inelegant of me! The night is young; we can go dancing or see a movie later on, if you'd like."
Oh, what Teisel wouldn't give to knock that smug little smirk off Glyde's face. "That is not what I meant, and you know it. Why don't you just cut the crap and tell me what this is about?"
Still grinning, Glyde beckoned a waiter. "Why, I already told you, Teisel dear. Can't we have a nice evening out while we're in town? It's going to be nonstop work after this; we'll hardly see each other." The waiter oozed up to the table, cutting off Teisel's reply. The larger man brooded while Glyde ordered for both of them in rapid French. Show-off. When the waiter was safely out of earshot, he directed his attention to Teisel again. "Could you tell me something?" He leaned forward slightly, voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "If you're so angry at me, why did you accept my invitation, hmm? Answer me that."
That...was actually a very good question. Teisel himself wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up here, aside from morbid curiosity. He couldn't very well say that, though, so instead he just shrugged and looked away. "Keep your enemies closer." That seemed to be a satisfactory answer, if the odd quirk to Glyde's eyebrows was any indication. They sat in blessed silence for a moment. Just as Teisel was thinking that maybe he could get through the evening by ignoring his fellow pirate entirely, Glyde piped up again. Didn't the man ever shut up?
"You know dear, they'd stare no matter what you wore. You're the most interesting thing in the room. Ah," Glyde said, and actually had the nerve to put a finger to Teisel's lips, "don't be so quick to take offense. It's true. Aside from the obvious, it's the way you carry yourself. It's not an affectation. You have a powerful presence, even when you're ill at ease." Leaning back, he swirled his wine thoughtfully. "Like now. Do I make you uncomfortable, dear?"
Yes. Very, Teisel thought to himself. Not that he was going to admit that, of course. He was generally good at reading faces, but he could never tell exactly what Glyde was thinking. The man smiled too much, but the expression was never quite...right. Like he'd watched people smile but never really gotten the hang of it himself. Settling for a grumbled "Whatever," Teisel tried to find something else to look at. If the other diners staring at him was awkward, Glyde watching him so closely made him want to scrub his own skin off.
Why had he agreed to this, anyway?
I left it open-ened, just in case I feel like continuing the scene, but I don't know. It would probably go into some creepy territory, knowing me.
"A Night Out"
Teisel tugged at the sleeves of his favorite jacket. To be accurate, it was probably two or three of his favorite jackets by now, lovingly patched and mended more times than he could count. He was especially proud of the left sleeve, which had had to be completely replaced after a run-in with one of the Gustaff's motor belts. It hadn't been the first time that jacket had taken a hit for him, and he'd been careful to find material that was very nearly the same shade of not-quite-red (it was corduroy, but nothing in life was perfect). The thing was sturdy and comfortable and fit him perfectly.
A not-quite-red jacket with a dozen mends and one corduroy sleeve did not blend in well in an upscale restaurant. The stares were making his back tingle.
"My goodness, you're restless tonight. What's troubling you, dear?"
Teisel glared across the table, which was a little too small and intimate for his liking, at his companion. He still wasn't sure how Glyde had conned him into wasting his evening like this. "Everyone's staring at me," he muttered. That hadn't sounded nearly as embarrassing in his head. Damn it.
Glyde disguised his snickers with a delicate cough. "Yes, well, you are a walking dress code violation. I'm quite surprised that the maitre d let you in without a bribe. Honestly, if I'd known that you didn't have anything to wear, I'd have gotten something for you." He fluttered his eyelashes in a particularly infuriating way. "All you have to do is ask, Teisel dear. Helping a friend fallen on hard times is one of life's small joys, is it not?"
"You're no friend of mine," Teisel snapped, drawing a sidelong glance from the elderly woman at the next table. Sighing, he crossed his arms and fought the urge to lean his chair back. "And I need your 'help' like I need a hole in the head."
The smirk that was Glyde's default expression was in full force tonight. "Now, now," he tutted, "don't be that way. I thought we'd put all this childish animosity behind us." He sipped at a glass of wine that was probably worth several kilos of tempered steel and regarded Teisel with uncomfortable intensity, just for a moment. "And here I thought I'd give you a pleasant evening away from the children."
"You abducted me."
"That was two years ago."
"You used me as slave labor."
Glyde waved a hand dismissively. "Surely you're not still angry about that."
"You tried to kill my family."
"You know, it's very unbecoming of a gentleman to hold a grudge," Glyde scolded. "Of course, I suppose the term doesn't really apply to you." He tipped his head to one side thoughtfully.
Teisel was trying very hard not to grind his teeth to powder. "My point is," he growled, "one lousy dinner isn't going to make up for all that."
"Goodness, did you think I'd rid myself of you right after dinner? That would be so inelegant of me! The night is young; we can go dancing or see a movie later on, if you'd like."
Oh, what Teisel wouldn't give to knock that smug little smirk off Glyde's face. "That is not what I meant, and you know it. Why don't you just cut the crap and tell me what this is about?"
Still grinning, Glyde beckoned a waiter. "Why, I already told you, Teisel dear. Can't we have a nice evening out while we're in town? It's going to be nonstop work after this; we'll hardly see each other." The waiter oozed up to the table, cutting off Teisel's reply. The larger man brooded while Glyde ordered for both of them in rapid French. Show-off. When the waiter was safely out of earshot, he directed his attention to Teisel again. "Could you tell me something?" He leaned forward slightly, voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "If you're so angry at me, why did you accept my invitation, hmm? Answer me that."
That...was actually a very good question. Teisel himself wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up here, aside from morbid curiosity. He couldn't very well say that, though, so instead he just shrugged and looked away. "Keep your enemies closer." That seemed to be a satisfactory answer, if the odd quirk to Glyde's eyebrows was any indication. They sat in blessed silence for a moment. Just as Teisel was thinking that maybe he could get through the evening by ignoring his fellow pirate entirely, Glyde piped up again. Didn't the man ever shut up?
"You know dear, they'd stare no matter what you wore. You're the most interesting thing in the room. Ah," Glyde said, and actually had the nerve to put a finger to Teisel's lips, "don't be so quick to take offense. It's true. Aside from the obvious, it's the way you carry yourself. It's not an affectation. You have a powerful presence, even when you're ill at ease." Leaning back, he swirled his wine thoughtfully. "Like now. Do I make you uncomfortable, dear?"
Yes. Very, Teisel thought to himself. Not that he was going to admit that, of course. He was generally good at reading faces, but he could never tell exactly what Glyde was thinking. The man smiled too much, but the expression was never quite...right. Like he'd watched people smile but never really gotten the hang of it himself. Settling for a grumbled "Whatever," Teisel tried to find something else to look at. If the other diners staring at him was awkward, Glyde watching him so closely made him want to scrub his own skin off.
Why had he agreed to this, anyway?
