|
Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jun 25, 2011 3:00:03 GMT -8
Outwardly, Charlotte didn’t bat an eyelash at the sudden change in Julian’s demeanour. Inwardly, however... Mother. Fucker. I swear to god if he suddenly gains a body of his own separate from Julian I’m waking David up and we are LEAVING. GREENVALE. She heaved another mental sigh, frustration easing away as quickly as it had come. Then again, as long as he doesn’t try to kill me... I suppose we’re good.
And how sad was it that THAT was a determining factor?
She shouldn’t let the fact that Michael’s psychotic alternate had tried to kill her affect her interactions with Julian, and... whoever this was; despite the fact that the initial change in demeanour had sent a cold chill coiling down her spine. This could very well be a perfectly normal case of D.I.D. And compared to everything else she’d seen in this town; again, not strange at all.
She shrugged, setting her coffee cup down on the table and crossing her arms casually over the back of her chair. She threw him a lop-sided smirk. “I don’t know... sometimes theatrics can be fun.”
|
|
|
Post by Julian Vorpalle on Jun 25, 2011 11:19:02 GMT -8
This reaction was...well, not quite what he had expected. Generally, when people learnt of him, of Julian's...'condition,' as some so succinctly put it, they recoiled. They weren't sure how to react. But not batting an eye? In point of fact, settling in for more conversation? The grin would have broadened, if it could.
"At times, they can," he agreed with a chuckle, surveying his fingernails with a displeased clicking of the tongue. Bitten again. He did so prefer them longer.
"Charlotte, then, is it? I suppose it isn't proper for me to know your name when you do not know mine." He bowed his head with a little flourish of his hand, bright eyes never leaving Charlotte. "My name is Cheshire. So very pleased to make your acquaintance, my dear."
|
|
|
Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jun 25, 2011 22:04:44 GMT -8
Charlotte couldn’t help it. She tilted her head back and laughed (her ribs protested vehemently, and she pressed a hand to them in another desperate attempt to help). Of COURSE it was more Alice in Wonderland. She couldn’t get away from it. Still down the rabbit hole.
Really, she was beginning to be thoroughly unsurprised by it all.
“‘“Oh you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad, you're mad,’” she said, the quote falling from her lips in quiet amusement. She inclined her head a little, meeting his gaze. “Pleased to meet you, Cheshire.”
|
|
|
Post by Julian Vorpalle on Jun 25, 2011 23:03:36 GMT -8
Hm. That was also new. He tilted his head a little to one side, looking incredulous at the laughter...and then pleased at the quotation. Cheshire then laughed, too, climbing up the chair so that he was perched precariously on the back, feet on the seat. In this position, it was easier to see how TALL Julian - or Cheshire - actually was, long, thin frame gawky and graceful at the same time.
"The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure. You are a literary person, are you? Dear Julian will like that. He is a writer, himself."
|
|
|
Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jun 26, 2011 0:47:36 GMT -8
Charlotte watched him climb the chair, raising an eyebrow. He was taller than she had expected; though it is tough to judge a person’s height when they are seated and eating breakfast. The differences between Julian and Cheshire were drastic. Between the two Cheshire was the more at ease, more graceful. Though perhaps some of Julian’s nervousness had been because he knew the switch had been coming? It was hard to say.
She was oddly relaxed now. He hadn’t tried to kill her, and she could do the banter thing easily. She was on ground she was familiar with. And it didn’t appear as though she would have to use her words as a weapon this morning. The morning is still young, though. She was now sprawled comfortably against the back of her chair; well as comfortably as she could get currently. Picking up her coffee cup she took a drink, and then let it dangle casually from one hand.
“If you’d like,” she replied with another smirk. “I suppose so. Literary enough, anyway.” She shrugged, “I’ve been known to prefer books to people at times. Julian writes?”
|
|
|
Post by Julian Vorpalle on Jun 26, 2011 1:17:19 GMT -8
While still remaining perched atop the chair, Cheshire edged off his sneakers, letting them drop off onto the floor leaving him in his black, ratty socks. He was CERTAINLY a great deal more at ease than Julian. A great deal braver, too, if the way the chair teetered displayed anything.
"Oh, yes. Children's books, as a matter of fact. QUITE the storyteller he is. And such a vivid imagination...when he allows it, of course." A thoughtfulness crossed his face, one hand reaching up to scratch his head.
"More recently his imagination frightens him, more often than not. But the poor boy takes a bit of time to get settled into a new place. And it's quite difficult to be creative when one is so hungry."
|
|
|
Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jul 2, 2011 23:30:54 GMT -8
It was oddly fascinating, Charlotte thought, the differences between the two personalities. She found herself wondering if Julian had any others. I wonder if THOSE will try to kill me, she mused. Least I’ve already had a bit of practice with that. She had a feeling that she would be going back to the library at some point, to do a bit of research into D.I.D. It had been a while since she had read up on it. Might as well refresh her memory.
“Children’s books? I wonder if I've heard of any of his work,” she said, taking another sip of coffee. Setting the cup back down on the table she folded her arms on the back of the chair. Frowning pensively at the ‘his imagination frightens him’ comment, Charlotte turned to look out the window at the rain. “Somehow I think that if he remains in Greenvale long enough it won’t be his imagination that is frightening him anymore...” She spoke more to herself than to Cheshire, her quiet words trailing off as the rain pounded more heavily against the glass.
|
|
|
Post by Julian Vorpalle on Jul 2, 2011 23:48:50 GMT -8
"Oh, I doubt that," Cheshire mused, rocking a bit on his perch. "Poor boy has never been published. They thought he was...too peculiar." Upon the frown and the soft comment, however, his attention was caught. He rocked forward, standing on the seat of the chair briefly to pluck a piece of bacon from his plate. He then sat unceremoniously on the table beside his setting, letting his legs dangle off the side.
So much for table manners.
"Oh? REALLY? Do tell. You've got me curious and, well...I've got a few lives to burn with my insufferable curiosity."
|
|
|
Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Aug 28, 2011 14:48:06 GMT -8
“Peculiar isn’t a BAD thing, is it?” Charlotte asked, sipping at her coffee. “I suppose it could seem to be in the publishing industry. Though my father managed a few novels, and he was a bit peculiar himself.” Peculiar in the best way possible, of course, but she was a little biased. Being his daughter and all.
She watched his motions with an almost smile. Cheshire certainly was... odd. But she didn’t mind odd. Hell, she was more than a little odd herself. Like father like daughter, perhaps. And after living in Greenvale... she was probably going to be leaving odder than she had arrived.
Then she realised that he’d heard her soft comment. Well fuck. She didn’t really want to be the one to start telling stories, true though they may be. Besides, she’d sound insane. Charlotte shrugged, managing a lopsided smile. “It’s... a long story. Suffice it to say that Greenvale has an... interesting past and it likes to make sure its remembered.”
|
|