impure_tale | 137 [Audio]

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137 [Audio]

[The Marquis sounds most tired and his voice sounds very labored.]

Such a lovely dream last night. I wish that I hadn't woken this morning.

Wardens please be advised that Iago has returned and is presently in Level 0.

I will also require someone to walk my Renate for me today. I am...somewhat under the weather.

(ooc: Naomi and I are assuming Pavi arrived last night and slipped in while the Marquis was sleeping. He woke this morning alone and assumed he dreamt the whole thing and did not show up to meals today :| Because he's moping in bed. We'll be backdating spam :3 ALSO ANY DOCTOR THAT WANTS TO VOLUNTEER, I'D LIKE TO ASSUME HE SOUGHT MEDICAL ATTENTION FOR HIM AFTER HE CAUGHT HIM.)

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Pavi had arrived a few minutes after midnight to a Barge that was - not silent, but certainly very quiet. He had fingered his new communicator for a few minutes, concluded that his glorious return needed to be made public when there would be people awake to appreciate it.

The next thought involved visiting the Infirmary to bother McCoy - he would probably still be up - but that passed. Prefect he wasn't going to wake up. Luigi would probably strangle him if he tried. Which left the Marquis.

He still had the room on Level 3. Pavi slid a gloved hand down to the door handle and found it - unlocked. Perfect. He slipped through and wandered through the room, refamiliarising himself before approaching the bed and taking a seat on the edge.

"Marche~ese..."

Renate slept before the fire most nights, only sharing the bed with the Marquis in the Winter, when he did not have company, and on Pavi's entrance she lifted her head from her resting place on the carpet and uttered a low growl. She sniffed the air, though, and the sound died down with a small whistling whine as she seemed to recognize him -- his scent was one she picked up on only a few of the things the Marquis owned, from when she'd been much younger, and was the scent of a mate, most assuredly, so she lay her head down again, eyes following him as he made his way to the back room.

"Mm?" The Marquis turned over in bed -- he'd drunken wine before retiring, and so his slumber was quite heavy. He was not unaccustomed to visitors in the night, sometimes -- which was not his reason for leaving the door unlocked. He had simply forgotten. But it was this reason he did not immediately open his eyes, and his brain was too addled with sleep and drink to realize it had been quite some time since anyone had called him that.

Pavi tsked. He liked his attention to be paid immediately and without barriers like unconsciousness. He slid a hand across the sheets and up, over the Marquis' collarbone, lace-covered fingers trailing up the line of his jaw.

"You are being very rude, no?"

The Frenchman was awake then, gaze stopped on the man above him, whose silhouette was barely visible in the dark. His eyes fluttered shut again, briefly as he stretched, smiling a little. He was dreaming. But it was a good dream, not unlike many he had on nights before this one -- so many that he could identify it without waking himself up now.

It had been a while. He would enjoy it.

"You're late," he murmured.

Pavi pulled a face, invisible in the dark and under the mask, because he couldn't imagine what he would be late for unless this was a comment on the fact he'd been gone for eight months. Already barefoot, he very deliberately removed one glove, then shucked off his jacket easily and slithered down to lie alongside the Marquis.

"I think that you are only trying to make the Pavi make up for lost time."

The Marquis turned over slightly to face him, sliding a hand around to the small of his back to keep him there. "I think that, my pet," he whispered, "is an excellent idea." The wine on his breath was detectable. Not offensively strong, but there. He only ever allowed himself to become intoxicated when he drank alone; though his bed had seen quite a few visitors in recent months, and he himself had guested several himself, he did not trust many of his new acquaintances enough to allow himself to become drunk in front of them.

He leaned nearer to kiss him.

Yes. He kissed the other man, hard, tasting the trace of wine still there in his mouth. This was good, it was easy - less complicated with questions or uncertainty than Pavi thought his return would be. It hadn't even occurred to him that the Marquis might think he was dreaming.

Please tell me Tim didn't beat the crap out of him.

[vry tired and sad marquis D:]

That would be exaggerating the situation somewhat.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

[ She throws her hands up in surrender. ]

All I needed to know.

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137 [Audio]

[Spam] - dated Monday night/verrrry early Tuesday morning

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