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Post by Xanthe on Oct 1, 2012 21:47:55 GMT -5
 For your ears only...
The night before had been filled with restlessness. He'd tossed, turned, and found himself staring into the darkness. Images were clouding his mind. They faded in and out. Words on paper blurred when his focus was lost. What was wrong with him? This was ridiculous. He had work to do. The proof was in the piles of papers laying before him. Two books were open and a pen lay dormant in his hand. There were ledgers to be filled. Clients to add. Totals to tally. Tea to order... The pen in his hand creaked quietly as his fingers clenched it tighter. A somber look crossed his face, complete with eyebrows bunching into a nearly perfect triangle. It would have been a sight to laugh at, if anyone had been there to witness it. But there was no one in that office. Well... not no one.
In fact, there was only one. A presence that was constantly haunting his every step; a perfect poltergeist. Sometimes, clients that came in to speak privately with the owner of the Teahouse were startled by the vision of a ghastly white figure in the corner of their eye. She was good at giving grown men a good scare. She was good at much more than that. The proof should have been in how long she'd been there, how Xanthe trusted her to be with him at all times, how he insisted on such. But that was good business. She was good at her job and, thus, she remained. Privy to witness information that the dark-haired man would rather not leave this room. Maybe to more than he'd be willing to admit.
A glance to his empty cup told him that the coffee that had been so faithful to him since early that morning was all but depleted. The same hand that had fixed those glasses now rose up and rubbed his left temple in a slow circle. He was upset. Not outwardly or outrageously. Work as evading him and his concentration was limited at best. His shoulders were tight and, even now, he was adjusting his body weight in the embrace of his plush chair. If anyone would notice, it would be her. |
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Post by Argent on Oct 1, 2012 22:25:05 GMT -5
 baptized with the perfect name
-- the doubting one by heart --Glancing at her master from where she stood at the door, Argent debated leaving her post. He had been like this for nearly a hour now. Irritable, unmoving, save for the small movements that belied his irritation. There. He shifted again. His fingers were pressing too hard at his temple. Should a client walk in, or worse, one of the other employees, there would be trouble. Yet, calming him down would be a challenge, if she read his mood right. So what to do? Go fill up his coffee, perhaps. Maybe find someone with whom he would be more accustomed to speaking. Linneus, perhaps? No, she frowned, that would cause only more issues.
She breathed softly into the amber-hued air. No, best would be to take the coffee mug and find Claret to fill it. He was upset and until he chose his manner of unburdening himself, her best steps would be to ease the other discomforts and maintain her post. She straightened and strode forward, keeping her hand on her sword to silence it more than to ready it.
She bent to pick up the cup, murmuring, “I’ll get this for you, Master.”
war between him and the day
-- need someone to blame -- words;; 194
status;; complete
tag;; Xanthe
lyrics;; amaranth by nightwish
credits;; i.forgive.you @ CAUTION 2.0 [/sup][/blockquote] |
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Post by Xanthe on Oct 1, 2012 23:28:16 GMT -5
I'm sorry about the attitude
I need to give when I'm with you
But no one else would take this shit from me
Pressure was building. The only outlet offered were the two fingertips pressing squarely against his temple. Hard enough that his vision blurred again, not because of his mind wandering, but the blood that was running from his own touch. Something had to give. Even the smallest sound might trigger the worst of reactions. He was a twig that was being bent, ready to snap at any moment--“I’ll get this for you, Master.”
"Don't bother." It wouldn't help. All that coffee was good for at that point was the comforting smell. In truth, Xanthe couldn't stand the taste. But it had been acquired. Now, it was simply a part of his day. Not many in the teahouse enjoyed a cup of the dark brew. Many times, he'd seen Claret pour out the remains of an entire pot that had been left untouched since the morning hours. Yet still, she continued to make the same amount. She really was a sweet simpleton.
Words he'd uttered were followed by the first breath that he had taken in over an hour. It both alleviated and added to the pressure that had been building around him. Glasses were tugged from his nose and put to rest on top of one of the many papers before him. He couldn't think. His fingertips had sparked a headache. Served him right. Fingers swiftly pushed through bangs that were getting just a little too long, hanging down over his thick brows ever so slightly. His chair was pushed back and the man stood to his full height. Several cracks erupted from his back. Too tense. He needed a break. After all, he wasn't getting a thing done.
Only the window offered escape. He'd turn to it, both his arms folded behind him. A frown was slight on his lips- then again, when wasn't it? The man had all the charm of a gravestone statue. Idly, a fingertip drummed against his own wrist.
"Are there any clients waiting?" When all else failed, business never let him down... except when he was staring it in the face at his desk. |
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Post by Argent on Oct 3, 2012 0:27:01 GMT -5
baptized with the perfect name
-- the doubting one by heart -- "Don't bother.”
Argent put the cup down and backed away two small steps as he stood up. Hearing the cracks from his back, she too thought he was tense, or at least in need of a better seat. She would look into that as an alternative suggestion for later.
She continued to watch him as he turned to the window. His moods were usually dark, but this pensive restraint was new. Wondering briefly if he was like this at home, she debated talking to his wife. But just like going to Linneus, that would be another disastrous choice.
His next question interrupted her musing. “Are there any clients waiting?”
"Not at the moment, sir. There are a few in house and a few scheduled to arrive shortly, but all appointments are running smoothly.” She wondered briefly if she should mention the incident earlier in the kitchen.
war between him and the day
-- need someone to blame -- words;; 146
status;; complete
tag;; Xanthe
lyrics;; amaranth by nightwish
credits;; i.forgive.you @ CAUTION 2.0 [/sup][/blockquote] |
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