Snippet #1941726

Sabine Marx

Humans were so odd. They had to be distrustful creatures if they had to claim the legitimacy of their statements all the time. Lies were so easy to pick out from truth, but when they added those little words to the end of their explanations, it made him doubt the truthfulness of the speaker. Like they were trying to prove it to themselves. "I don't doubt the validity of your words, I wouldn't unless you provided reason for me to believe otherwise." He spoke. Green eyes flickered to the human for a second before turning away to look across the street they were currently on, at the people on the opposite sidewalk. Human were such foolish creatures. They weren't nearly as bothersome as the vampires or those damned lykaes though, they were more tolerable when one accepted their inherent stupidity.

They had to be nearing her home. And he'd forgotten one of the most important formalities. Perhaps because of the odd way they'd crossed paths. It kept popping up in his mind, frustrating him. Why had she followed him? But he should think about that now, no need becoming angry over such a little thing. He'd discover her intentions soon enough.

"I fear that I've not introduced myself to you." He said abruptly, his smooth accented voice not showing any of the inflection his words implied. It was almost a lie but for its status as a figure of speech. "My name is Sabine Marx. What may I have the pleasure of calling you, sunflower?" Again with the figures of speech. He'd learned to talk well, he could craft lovely sentences until his ears bled, and one could almost pretend that there was some type of subtle emotion behind the carefully crafted syntax.

---

James Dylor

James nodded reflectively at the blonde's first words. She spoke carefully. What was behind the careful structure of her words. Was she unhappy? Or was there more to her story. The young halfling wasn't going to press the female for more information on that front though. Her other words made his mind buzz though. Company? What? What was Bowen thinking to do? Did he want James to look after the girl, or did he have some other type of agenda in mind? James had not real time to think on it though, because another form had just turned the corner.

A tall male with dark hair, one of the lower servants, probably a message runner by the looks of him. His blue gaze flicked from the girl to the boy, and his eyebrow raised incrementally as he passed. He could only be fifty, perhaps a hundred years older than James, but he was much much taller than the diminutive halfer. He walked passed them, shooting James an irritated look, they were gumming up the hall after all, then slipping behind the washroom door. It closed with a thunk.

"We should probably get moving." James said, beginning to move down the hall. The surprise of meeting a young woman right outside the washroom door was starting to fade, and exhaustion was setting back in. His spine hurt and his eyes were beginning to droop. He blinked a couple times and looked at Belle again.

"What sort of...company does his lordship intend?" James asked carefully. He was wondering mentorship, not that he'd be very good at that, and why would a woman need to know how to perform his job when the King would never allow a woman to be his personal servant, or actually companionship. He couldn't fathom why Bowen would put that on him. It wasn't a particular burden, but he was fine, he didn't need companionship, he was getting on pretty well by himself, wasn't he? Wasn't he?

The anxious look flickered on his face momentarily, but the young male wiped it quickly, closing his eyes for a few seconds. His tiredness was making him paranoid wasn't it.