[D3 LE] Helping Hand (Chantelle's Apartment)

[Marcus Kendall]

"Uh..." the happiness faded away and was replaced by the sour bergamont of confusion. The beast wrinkled his nose, tilting his head to the side as the ice cold eyes, gleaming with whatever fae magics remained in his body, observed the dainty creature. "Missus is kind." he managed, once his brain found the right words. "I, uh, do my best." he offered, still confused. "Um. I don't know. Am I?" he asked, turning to Chantelle as if he was looking for her opinion on the matter.

"Uh, missus, that would depend." The bergamont notes only got heavier, with the beast's tail now fully alert, moving side to side in a serpentine fashion. "You can ask, but I won't promise to answer." Promises held power, and he knew better than to let his words be bound by a stranger.

[Tiffani]

Tiffani watches Marcus's tail swish back and forth - back and forth - back and forth. Her eyes do the same as if she is being mesmerized by the motion. She says nothing for a time as she feels the happiness fade - and she knew she was responsible for it.

Something was going on, something was happening that she didn't understand. Some taboo that she broke? Some custom that she violated? Some faux pas that she made? Perhaps she allowed the cosy atmosphere, the honeyed scent, the wonderful warmth of the place go to her head.

Tiffani leaned back in her chair, one of her fingers drawing little designs on the table. She took her eyes from Marcus and watched her finger instead.

"Have you ever been in love, Marcus? Do you want to be?" Her voice was laced with the kind of depth that only comes from the deepest recesses of the soul, the kind of voice that bespeaks of a very grave question, not simple, idle curiosity. Once asked, she still did not look into Marcus's seemingly cold eyes, preferring instead to watch her own finger as if she were drawing a masterpiece there on the table.

[Chantelle Rossette]

While Chantelle had been about to reassure Marcus that the question was likely innocent, she was blindsided by the words that came out of Tiffani’s mouth. Her beak made the softest of clacks as she closed it a little too sharply in surprise. Her confusion added to Marcus’ as she brought a mug and the steaming saucepan of coca over to the table. The egret filled the new mug, the scent of peppermint coiling up as she did, there was schnapps in the bottom, and she topped up Marcus and Jack’s mugs.

Pushing the mug closer to Tiffani, she retreated to the kitchen to put the saucepan in the sink, returning with a little bowl of puffy white marshmallows.

[Marcus Kendall]

Tiffani leaned back in her chair, one of her fingers drawing little designs on the table. She took her eyes from Marcus and watched her finger instead.

"Have you ever been in love, Marcus? Do you want to be?" Her voice was laced with the kind of depth that only comes from the deepest recesses of the soul, the kind of voice that bespeaks of a very grave question, not simple, idle curiosity. Once asked, she still did not look into Marcus's seemingly cold eyes, preferring instead to watch her own finger as if she were drawing a masterpiece there on the table.

"Uh..." the beast growled, sounding a little uncomfortable with the question. "I don't remember much of my life before." The large claws clacked against the table, though he took care to not carve marks on the surface. "I might have been?" he shrugged once more, sounding and feeling lost. "Why?" he left most of her question unanswered, afraid that there was some strange catch. That Tiffany's innocent looks hid something he could not quite grasp. The beast's tail flared out as if trying to make his massive frame to look larger than it was.

[Tiffani]

Tiffani stopped her finger-doodling on the table and gracefully plucked some marshmallows out of the bowl - one at a time - dropping them into her cocoa with barely audible splooshing sounds. Every movement she made with her hand was deliberate, careful, as if her life depended on getting the marshmallows in her cocoa just right.

"I'm not trying to trick you, Marcus, or bind you or control you or ... whatever else your fears may be." She kept her eyes downcast, watching the marshmallows slowly melt within the heat of the cocoa, the whiteness of the melting marshmallows mixing with the brown of the cocoa.

"I just wanted to know how you felt - if you have ever felt ... alone. Just an oversight, always passed over because there was always someone better. I've been alone for so long ... it tears at my heart."

She closes her eyes for a moment - a rather long moment - before she opens them again and fixes her gaze back on Marcus. "Forget I said anything, okay? I didn't mean to make you feel on the spot or ... uncomfortable. It's just ... no, never mind. I can tell you're too uncertain. It would stand to reason you wouldn't trust me. Why would you?"

And with that, she picks up her mug of cocoa and drinks half of it in a single go - as if she hadn't had a thing to drink in days.

[Marcus Kendall]

The beast left the marshmallows on the table, his eyes still intent of the newcomer. He was trying to make sense of her and her strange question. Beast knew no love, only thrill of a chase and death that followed. "Alone, yes." He chuckled, sounding like a wild animal chocking to gristle. "Aren't we all alone?" Yet, his tone softened a bit. He could understand the loneliness, at least. "There isn't much else for the folks like us. I mean, there's the Freehold, but, eh." The beast wasn't sure what was his point. He wasn't sure he had a point. "There are the motleys I guess."

As it turns out, he hadn't forgotten what she had said, merely replied as he could, in his own fashion. "I trust you a little. Chantel brought you here, and I trust her a bit. So I trust you a bit." The underlying implication were clear, however. He wasn't ready to trust her quite yet. "Tomorrow, I'll trust you bit more."

[Chantelle Rossette]

Murmuring, Chantelle placed her hand on Marcus’ shoulder, wing feathers rustling, “it’ okay, dere’s noting ‘ere we nee’ to rush.”

[Tiffani]

"I won't trouble you again with such trivialities." Tiffani said with a certain finality in her tone. However, to the keen listener, there might have been an undertone of frustration - the kind of frustration that plagues a person all of their lives. "I guess there isn't a lot to look forward to, then."

Tiffani looks over at Jack again - Jack, who has remained silent throughout this exchange. She wanted to ask him the same question, to get his opinion, but if she understood Marcus correctly, and she hoped she did not, there was little, if any, love between Changelings.

Yet she craved it, desired it more than anything else in the multiverse. Ahh well, it will probably be a lot like it was before I was taken - as hard as that was. However, she felt somehow compelled to reveal this aspect of herself and she didn't know why. They were strangers despite their kindness and that kindness wasn't infinite. Already she had managed to muddle a perfectly good night with her inane question. But this powerful feeling that she should ask it - and lay open her feelings to these people. It just wouldn't subside.

Tiffany massaged her temples gently, one hand on each side of her head, and she moaned very quietly so that some may not have even heard it.

"Maybe we should find a deck of cards or something ... or maybe a game. Anyone for Scrabble? Or ... something?" Anything to distract her from this crazy compulsion.

[Marcus Kendall]

"Eh, it's ok, Missus." The beast assured her, bobbing his large head up and down. "No harm asking. The Spring folks might have different answers." he nodded at the egret. "But, don't know if anyone will want to talk with lots of folks around." Marcus kept his eyes on Chantelle, figuring that she would know if she had what Tiffany asked for.

[Chantelle Rossette]

Chantelle pressed her beak together, thinking, “love... is no’ triviality, bu’...” bu’ it can be such an ugly ting, she mused, not wanting to give the young woman such a bleak answer. Love was considered the purview of her Court, and she felt the obligation to offer something, but the Spring could pervert love just as wholly as they embraced it. “I know you bee’ drough a lo’, an’ I know you ‘ave los’ a lo’, bu’ dat don’ mean you’ll be alone foreva, or eve’ a long time.” It was weak, and perhaps a little trite, but she’d only introduced the woman to Marcus and Jack a half hour ago, and already the girl wanted to know when she could expect to fall in love? Tawk abou’ puttin’ de car’ before de ‘orse.