"I sometimes wish I was small enough to drink from a thimble~"
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Post by mrslayton44 on Jul 25, 2015 7:49:31 GMT -8
He laughed? What was so funny exactly? He smiled again and she wasn't sure what to make of them in tandem with the laugh, but it was a nice smile. She just didn't trust it. Wrinkling her nose slightly as he explained and she huffed softly, an amused sort of sound.Which she was. There had been no need to make sure that Someday had meant no time soon. But she had and something about it had tickled him.
As he folded his red gloves below the table the house maid regarded him curiously. She actually preferred to see people's hands so she knew what they were doing. But currently she wasn't too bothered by it and if anything seemed to trust he wasn't going to be the type to make a scene in the middle of such a place.
Wait he didn't want anything in return for a tour of Rome? She was surprised and wondered if her earlier thoughts of him being a con artist were unfounded. But then it never cost them anything up front. Is the 'fine print' as they called it where the deal was made.
Still she was a touch moved by this offer though. Lately the world seemed to have this discord within it's people. Everyone was for themselves. No one helped for the simple act of kindness anymore. Sure ir still existed but it was a shame to see chivalry and kindness waning from the world. So even if the man before her didn't mean it, it still meant a lot that he even offered.
People watching was brought up and she perked up somewhat from her moment fo melancholy. A small smile turning her lips up one one side. "Ah yes. T-that does sound fun." She admitted and chuckled softly at his joke. "Y-yes you are... c-certainly not l-like your f-fellow Italians." She commented looking thoughtful and for the first time he'd sat down, was somewhat relaxed in his presence. Something not so easily accomplished with the skittish woman.
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keep your eyes open.
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Post by rapaolo on Jul 31, 2015 0:45:45 GMT -8
Raffaele laughed again. He'd relaxed slightly; whatever game they were playing, it wasn't a battle to the death. It was a battle of wits--and if Raffaele knew anything, it was wits. "I'm really not, no."
He paused as a memory trickled in. It was one that was more personal to him, and he generally didn't openly share those. But his sister--it was always easier to talk about her than anyone else. He debated for a few moments about sharing it and looked down with a small, fond smile. "My sister always seemed gesticulate enough for the entire family. She was the exact definition of talking with your hands. She would get excited to see me and shout my name, and her arms would go like this." He flailed his arms upward for a few seconds, outward, just slightly. Then he laughed; even his imitation of her was restrained, only a fraction of the excitement she'd managed to capture.
"... Ah. I can't do it like she can. You will have to leave it to your imagination." He quickly buried his hands under the table again, uncomfortable. But Rosaria--she was the easiest to talk about. And she deserved to be remembered. "She and my brother were very animated people. My father--"
And that was where it stopped. The memory was promptly shut off as Raffaele backpedaled furiously from that particular detail, eyes looking distant and immediately closed off.
"... I won't bore you with more details. Suffice to say that Italians are very lively. You would enjoy the show."
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"I sometimes wish I was small enough to drink from a thimble~"
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Post by mrslayton44 on Aug 4, 2015 19:06:59 GMT -8
Sienna regarded him curiously with her eyebrows raised slightly in amusement or surprise, it was hard to tell. Once again something had amused him and she couldn't help but wander what ti was she was saying that was eliciting such a response from the steel-trap of man before her. She waited patiently after her spoke, wondering if he might impart more of this information about his family to her.
And surprisingly he did. She looked on with an eager type of curiosity as he spoke of his family and noted that his sister seemed to be a rather important figure. Was. Was an important figure. They were dead, most for decades. His family was gone of course. But even she often felt trapped in a time centuries before if she let her mind get too caught up in things. It was easy to fall into his short tale of how vibrant his family was. She even chuckled a little behind her hand at his attempt to recreate the mad flailing some of those more energetic souls managed with such ease. A father was added to the mix and just like that he shut down.
It was like someone had flipped a switch off inside and he soon returned to the impassive, and distant person he'd been moments before. The hand she'd been laughing softly behind dropped down to her lap once more as a tense unease filled in the spaces that something akin to a light aura had just occupied. It was painfully obvious his father was not the best subject for him. Not that she could relate t this having not known her own. All shed' had was a mother and the other house slaves, and even know she wondered if her mother had actually birthed her.
"I see...." She replied softly casting her gaze down and then back up some once more. She felt a bit guilty now that he'd divulged as much as she had while she'd given very little. "I was a house slave." She replied matter of factly in short, clipped words. "But I s-seen my fair s-share of those w-wild types." The only one being Clarence but there was no need to go into that particular sink hole. She did feel bad though that the conversation had bothered him but simply lacked the means to do anything about it.
"Also... um y-your sister s-sounds like she'd have been a l-lot of fun." She nodded once lightly, her hair flicking back a bit.
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Post by rapaolo on Aug 14, 2015 13:50:31 GMT -8
A house slave? Several puzzle pieces clicked neatly into place in Raffaele's mind. That explained so many details about her completely.
He cast about for a response and found nothing that seemed appropriate. "A house slave. I'm... sorry." He paused, gauging her tone. It was short and nonchalant--clearly not something she intended to dig into. A house slave and a mafioso. We both have pasts that we'd rather not dwell in, he noted, surprisingly empathetic as he leaned over the table, trying to shift through the silence. The quiet was comfortable in company but uncomfortable in topic. Still, it was companionable.
"Ah, she was. It is perhaps cliche to say she was the jewel of the family, but it feels applicable." He sounded faintly amused, but affectionate. Warm. Rosaria had been separated from everything--aware, as was inevitable, but a civilian. Raffaele never questioned why, but he was relieved that she hadn't been dragged in as he and Matteo had been.
Though the "family business" had still been to her detriment.
"She was. I admired the way she responded to things. She had a sense of justice and energy that extended to all. It was her fiery Italian blood--the same passion and fervor that filled our house with music and laughter." Rosaria would've been indignant at the very notion of house slaves, Raff noted with a slight smile. She would've liked Sienna--and perhaps had more luck talking to Sienna than Raffaele was.
The back of his mind still grappled for details about the girl before him--and found, even still, nothing. She would only give what she felt like giving--and if she'd been a house slave, that explained the submissiveness and the desire to keep attention off herself. So she wouldn't intend to give much at all, mostly to keep eyes off of herself--or, that's what he assumed, based on what he'd gathered so far. How deep did it run, though? Did a subconscious part of her desire human connection, or did her past and fear overcome that? It's too early to tell. She keeps surprising me.
"She had no patience for sitting with me to people-watch," he added, as that was a topic that he and Sienna had in common. Perhaps she would find it amusing. "She liked people, but she would flit from person to person, as though desiring to experience as many people as possible. What is that phrase--a butterfly? ...A social butterfly, literally flitting around." He smiled slightly, laughing in a soft exhale, looking at Sienna, but never for too long.
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"I sometimes wish I was small enough to drink from a thimble~"
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Post by mrslayton44 on Aug 16, 2015 6:09:02 GMT -8
Sienna's heritage of bondage wasn't well known. She didn't go sharing it very often, Not for any vain reasoning or fear of pity. But she simply hadn't had it as bad as some folks imagined. But again she was not surprised by his momentary silence, watching him from under her bangs as he pieced things together. "It wasn't awful..." She admitted, her hands fisting in her jacket tail as she spoke and glanced to the side. Clarence had made her existence in that servitude worthwhile. She wouldn't change it for anything. Her life as a house slave had been all she'd known. It was hard to envy other things even now. She'd had it good compared to so many others. Every time something had been hard or challenging Clarence had shown up to help or pulled some kind of strings to get her some assistance. Like some kind of Guardian angel. She'd had a short but blessed life and while she was originally quite bitter about it and still was occasionally, time had lessened it and even now she felt a small piece of that dark resentment ebb away.
As her table companion continued to speak about his sister she decided that she liked her. She sounded fun, engaging and fearless. One of those types who probably excelled at anything she willed herself to. And in other words.. the complete and utter opposite of herself.
The image of a female version of Raffaele floating around with butterfly wings came unbidden to her mind and she snorted in amusement before slapping a hand on her mouth and clamming up again for fear of having done something rude. She'd pretty much just laughed at his sister and while he had too she always tried to be respectable. It was most irregular and she glanced around a few times, refusing to look his way as she pondered making a hasty exit. No. That would be even ruder. Laughing and running away.
"U-um I mean." She replied quickly, stuttering as she fiddles with her hair anxiously while keeping her gaze pinpointed on the plate before her. "I m-mean I like her. I -w-wish I could've m-met her." Much better. Much nicer. That was what she'd intended to say anyhow. Not laugh obnoxiously like some miscreant.
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