impure_tale

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74

Lovely.

Yes Admiral, I think this shall do quite nicely; the accommodations are perfect and you have truly outdone yourself.

As for the rest of you, I trust I was not gone too long to have been forgotten, oui?

(ooc: he's baaaaaack)

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Everyone so happy to see me gone? [He smirks a little.] And nonsense. You think I'll take advantage of you?

[Pavi smirks right back.] I am more worried that I will be made useless with alcohol and you won't. [Still, it'll take more than two glasses of wine to cripple him, so he shrugs and holds out his glass.]

Might I...ask a question, Marchese?

[He refills it generously]

You may ask me any question you wish, Paviche.

Thank you. [He circles the rim of the glass with a fingertip. Asking other people questions about themselves still isn't his forte.] You...were gone for a few days, after your graduation. I am sure you have noticed this. Where is it that you went, before returning here?

I -- [Well damn. He would have been better equipped to continue with talking sex like he always did, so the question throws him off.] Well -- that's just the thing, I'm afraid. [He sits down and gestures for Pavi to do the same.] I do not really remember.

[Pavi sits and arranges himself neatly, watching the Marquis with interest. Lying? Possibly. Probably. But he'd prefer to believe that the man is telling the truth, because he knows barely enough about the Marquis' life and where he's from to know that he would never, ever want to go there himself.]

I see. With these 'floods' and the other strange things that happen here...I think it would be perhaps quite ordinary to lose a few days, si?

It is not even that. I know I was somewhere. I know I spoke to the Admiral. But I cannot remember where I was, or what he looked like. It is as you hear him when he speaks. You think you recognize the voice -- you can't even identify it as the Admiral, almost. But it's just out of reach.

[Pavi's brow furrows and he immediately regrets it. His mask doesn't seem to want to adjust to anything any more.] This is...very disturbing. But it is not so bad not to remember where you are, if you know what you did, si?

I suppose. I do not know if it was good or bad, of course. But if it was bad, better not to remember. [He ponders the mask again for a moment.] What is it made of, your mask?

It is skin. [Simple enough. But he can't exactly leave it there.] It was my sister's, an implant - created for her, si? She changes often, and this is a part of what Papa's company does. This one, it...did not take. So I bought it from her, and now... [He gestures to the mask. He knows he's not omitting a lot of facts here - that this is the only face he's come by so innocently, for example - but omission of truth is a world away from lying, in his opinion.]

That is... [He doesn't register stunned that often] quite possibly the most unusual thing I have ever heard.

[Pavi smiles, childishly pleased to have prompted such a reaction from the seemingly-unshakeable older man.] It was sometimes thought a little strange back home, si? But I do not think it was thought 'the most unusual' by anybody. [His brother, maybe, but nobody cared about his opinion.] You do not care for it, Marchese?

[He brushes it off quickly.] Provided it was given willingly, I care not for its source, sweetling. It does bring a certain sinister undertone to it, however. Something my writing would explore.

[Given willingly? That's something to consider. Arguably, once somebody's dead they can't actively object but Pavi's aware that such logic is strained even by his own standards.] It is interesting what the Pavi is learning in this new place. I was never considered...sinister, back at home. The bellas simply thought this face better than the other.

The "Bellas" have seen your face without the mask? [He doesn't ask this as though 'oh, perhaps it is not so bad'. He can see little hints of the scarring on the outer edges of the mask. But he'd be faster to suggest that power brought women running over a pretty woman's face.]

On occasion, and depending on whom. I am happy enough not to wear it in...intimate situations, si? [Again, some careful management of the truth.] The look of one's face seems to matter a little less at these times.

It would matter a good deal to someone with a vested interest in you, however. [He refilled his own wine glass, now.] Whores are not paid to care for their customer, after all.

Whores. This is...an insult? [But it's not something he can wholly refute, either. He's always been peripherally aware that his wealth and power has always been at least a little helpful in the pursuit of his particular lifestyle. He takes slow a sip of wine.] As you like. But I have never wanted to sleep with someone who would care for me, si?

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