queenoflogs | it was a sin, so sweet and true

Entry tags:

it was a sin, so sweet and true

Characters: Emilia (

howaverage ) & Jules (

typeright ) :: closed
Date: A DAY. AT A TIME. I guess May 22nd, afternoon?
Summary: Smoking, drinking, romance novels. Classy stuff.
Warnings: Nothing comes to mind! Horrible romance novels?

Well, she'd been here a while, now. Long enough to accept that it wasn't a hallucination, and that she probably wasn't going to be going home for a while. A terrifying thought, in and of itself, and one that Jules was quite determined not to address – no, instead she was going to be doing other thing. Happy things! Things like making friends, reading, drinking wine, smoking. Quite a few days had encompassed all those things, although she had to say it was quite the change to find oneself able to indulge in an entire library of romance novels and be able to drink and smoke openly; perhaps it was only realised here because of Em being so very French.

Today was a slight veering away from the norm, though, with Jules happily parked, scribbling notes and ideas and paragraphs of prose down in a notebook. After all, her writing career had been borne of needing a distraction, and if ever there were an environment that, at times, prompted one to need something else to think about (especially the absence of loved ones), the Garden was one of them.

So, there she was, smoke curling up from the cigarette in her mouth, wine to the side, writing pornography. Another day in the life of Jules, and a classy one, at that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A bit of a smile flickers at the corner of her mouth as she sips a bit more wine. "No?" She tilts her head, maybe playing it up just a bit. A thoughtful hum follows, and she's gently tapping her cigarette against her mouth as she very seriously thinks it over. "Perplexing?" Teasing, of course, but with such an innocent expression as to suggest she were being entirely genuine - if only it weren't so exaggerated.

But, now, for really serious matters. Cosmopolitans, yes. Very serious, entirely so. "Really? But it's such a classic." The thought almost makes her pout a bit. "I'll have to work on that."

Oh, and that catches her a bit by surprise, so she just smiles again and shakes her head. "Not at all! She's very... engaging." And abrasive. And not much of a conversationalist. And grumpy. And... well. "It's always good to find such strong personalities in teenagers." Strong personalities: another euphemism.

That playfulness earns Jules an eye roll and she shakes her head, leaning her cheek on her arms instead, just half-staring at the notes without actually paying attention to them, drumming her fingers against the wooden table.

"They are, actually, I'll give you that much" she concedes to Jules' statement with a small sigh, rubbing her nose. "But you would be surprised with the short number of the population around here that are of legal drinking age and from Earth." She straightens her back, sitting up a little better so that she can take her glass of wine and take a sip. "The sudden realization that most people here are not normal can be very..." What's the word? "Perplexing."

And by normal she means from Earth where nothing like explosions and war happen, or explosions and wars and bridges falling down or giant robots or magical girls, or people that basically come from the future - at least, 2007 is definitely the future for Em. So, yes, all those things that most people that have ended up in this place seem to be both used to and sometimes even comfortable with. She has seen plenty of girls being completely unfazed about the magic dirt and even saw a couple of them freaking dueling. It's all very distressing to Em. She wouldn't be surprised if she grew a few grey hairs because of this place.

Spotting the direction of Em's gaze, Jules tries to ease a blank piece of paper over her (rather swirly, actually) handwriting, slowly dragging it over with her fingertips. Just calmly, discretely, not rushing it. Or... so she hopes, at the very least.

Still, she rests her chin on her hand, just mulling that over. "You know, a couple of friends of mine would rue the day that I was considered among the normal crowd." The corner of her mouth curls up, nose wrinkling with a little smile. "But, I mean," and she exhales a little smoke, blowing it off to the side, "when you say 'not normal', it's... I mean it's all rather relative, surely?" Quietly chewing on her lip, she's trying to sort through her thoughts, shuffling through them and trying to make them make sense. "And besides, if you're going to be thrown into another world completely, encountering strange, unusual things, that's surely a positive thing to be gained. All kinds of interesting people!"

Then again, she laughs a little, quietly. "Of course, a limit of friends of legal drinking age does sound a little tragic. It's lucky that you have me, now."

It doesn't attract her attention, the fact that Jules is covering up her notes, mostly because she's a little inattentive to her surroundings right now, picking up the cigarette again and pulling on it, exhaling the smoke as she shrugs.

Jules is bound to be caught sooner or later anyway.

"I don't know about being relative," she taps the ashes to the ashtray, leaning her chin on her palm. "For me, it isn't. People with magic in their world? That isn't normal." She's a very stubborn, adamant person, so of course things outside of her comfort zone are going to bother her a lot. As if it wasn't enough being kidnapped to a Garden full of women with a Queen bent on apparently turning this into a big, girls-only orgy or something, it had to be magical and in another world.

She frowns, though. Positive attitude or not, surely there was a bit of a limit there somewhere within Jules. "I'm sure everyone is very interesting. I just prefer to keep myself short of magical beings," she shrugs and smokes the rest of the cigarette, putting it out on the ashtray. She smiles a little at Jules words and quirks an eyebrow up.

"Well, for me, you are from the future, so you are not exempt of being considered abnormal." She isn't being serious, for a change.

Of course she is. Possibly even because that 'blank' piece of paper isn't actually blank. Jules is just going to stop trying, for the moment - surely things would be fine, right? Getting in a flap would only make things worse.

Jules makes a little face at that, pouting for a few seconds before her smile ruins it. "If you're from that close to the eighties, there's a very slim chance you aren't abnormal, too." Her finger traces little circles on the table, and her tone turns even more amused. "So, really, you're just as bad as the rest of us. We're all completely insane and there's nothing that can be done." Said so very, very lightly, her grin bringing out her dimple a little more. "Or interesting, rather. We're all equally interesting."

With a little chuckle, she extinguishes the last little bit of her cigarette. "But if we're in a world that runs on magic, and there are other people who come from worlds with magic. It could be that we're really the very strange ones." The words trail away into silence, and after a few moments, she shakes her head. She didn't think about the kidnapping or the apparent intention for this to become an orgy - no. She didn't think about it, and that made this all a lot easier to deal with.

That doesn't, of course, keep her from drawing out another cigarette to help deal with it, although she doesn't light it right away.

One could probably say that Emilia has perfect the art of arching her eyebrow up, because one of them really does arch up perfectly, a judging look upon her face as she does so. Her not being considered normal is rather offensive in a place like the Gardens, so she just leans her chin on her hand, staring at Jules, before glancing away with a bit of an eye roll.

"I'm very sure I'm normal." No, she really is. "As far as I'm concerned, the only way I could get more normal is being at home." A place she clearly misses, but she has been torn up about that lately. Not because she likes this place, but she has become quite attached to Ellie. If she could, she would take her home with her. Was she able to do that, then, well... Nothing would be complicated.

She watches Jules take out another cigarette, but doesn't comment on it. She has had her share of chimney moments when she first arrived. Instead, she's staring at the shelves without much interest, sighing so that her shoulders raise slightly.

"Ever wonder if every thing is all right back home? If the police is looking for you?" There's a pause. She has been gone for months now. "I just hope everyone is all right."

The judgment just gets another smile, another dip of the dimple. "You should always be more cautious of the quiet, normal ones. They tend to wind up having the biggest surprises in stories." A conspiratorial wink, and she taps the side of her nose. "I'm a writer, I know these things."

She laughs a bit. It's reflexive, the laughter - if she didn't, the actual reaction would be startled, sad. Like she'd been avoiding that thought, glossing over it along with a whole mess of other things. "Um." A long pause follows. "I think..." Jules clears her throat, and manages another light laugh. "I think that my friends imagine I ran off with an extremely handsome man I met in the south of France, and that I will be in contact with them once the thrill of the moment has worn off."

Lies. They'd be worried sick, but she couldn't think about that. How were you meant to think about that? "Greg has probably made up a story to tell my parents, too." She just about manages to keep the creep of a shake out of her voice. "Maybe when the Queen takes us she just sort of takes care of everything at home in the meantime. Whatever the case, it's sure to be absolutely, perfectly fine."

Still, the cigarette goes unlike, Jules just rolling it between her fingers, spinning it, tapping it against her thumb.

"Ah, well. If you're a writer, then you must be right."

Jules actually wouldn't be too far off. Sure, they aren't epic stories of dragons and swords like some of the people here, but then again, everyone has stories, everyone has baggage. Em sighs through her nose, curling her fringe around her fingers - which is just her trying to show nervousness, alas, she always does that, so it isn't a good tactic. She doesn't answer, however, doesn't say neither no or yes. She just shrugs lightly.

A little smile tugs at her lips, however, when Jules speaks about imaginary adventures. She left her own time in a similar situation. Not the meeting nor the eloping, but definitely involving a man - coincidentally, a French man. But she's pretty sure her friends and family are worried and that makes her rather sad and guilty, even though it's not her fault in any way for being here.

"You're quite adventurous," she smiles a little. "I'm not quite fond of just going head-first into things like that."

Edited 2011-05-23 11:27 (UTC)

A sage nod, if ever Jules were able to master such a facade. "You see? I knew you'd understand." Brushing her hair back, she ponders on it for a moment, before shaking her head. "I am extremely insightful."

Her smile fades, just for a moment, and then she's correcting herself with another happy expression. "Well, there was no actual whirlwind romance. Maybe my friends jumping to that conclusion--" if they did, at all, "-- would be rather indicative." It's a nice thought, at least. Comforting, even if it does border on the absurd.

A pause, and the smile turns mischievous, situation being twisted around for humour again, deflecting from seriousness. "'Adventurous' wasn't a euphemism for something awful, was it?"

"Usually, friends only jump to a conclusion when you do something so often it becomes the norm," she's smiling, though, as if to indicate she really is just kidding.

The mischievous smile doesn't go unnoticed, although it leaves her rather confused because if that sentence had anything mischievous in it, Emilia did not notice. She blinks and tilts her head, frowning a bit as she can't seem to figure it out.

"I-- No. No, of course not. I just can admire a person's... will, I suppose, to go out and... be adventurous. I don't understand it, but, well, give credit where credit is due." A pause. "As long as they're not doing something stupid, that is." Of course, doing something stupid for Emilia is a very extensive list. Maybe if it was someone she didn't like, what Jules had said would be, indeed, stupid, but she is biased.

"You've found out my secret!" Woefully - if such silliness could ever be called that - she takes a sip of her wine. "I don't suppose you're any good at keeping secrets?" She's definitely holding in a laugh, though, and it escapes just as she's trying to have another taste of wine, sparking a bit of a coughing fit. "You're trying to kill me, obviously. That must be your secret." Jokingly accusatory, of course, like everything always needs to be a joke.

It does, really. When things are serious, it's much more scary.

That confusion is a bit endearing, sparking the need to just lay her hand over Em's for a second. "I was teasing." A moment, a brief squeeze of the hand, and she leans back again, pulling her hand back. "You're very serious, Em. I just meant you could have been calling me terrible names for this alleged running off with someone I just met without telling anyone." Another smile, although she's biting her lower lip with her amusement. "I'll just take you calling me adventurous as a wonderful comment, though, if it's something you admire."

Edited 2011-05-23 12:26 (UTC)

She is still growing accustomed to Jules' sense of humour which, although sometimes immature and childish, it can be quite endearing, so Em offers a smile to her and shakes her head a little.

She is a little... taken aback by the sudden contact. Ever since she has been in the Gardens, the most physical contact she has had was with Ellie, when she hugs her or brushes her hair or pulls on her ear jokingly. Or Xion sometimes, when she runs a hand through her blue hair reassuringly. Otherwise, she has no human contact and for a moment, she does strange it, before she frowns. What a terrible thought it is.

"All right," a little distractedly, she looks at her empty hand a bit lost, but then she comes back to Earth, pulling her hand back, shooing away those silly thoughts. "Sorry." And as for a different subject, so that she doesn't have to hang on to the awkward topic. Taking the attention off of her. "How is your writing coming along? Have you been able to write down anything lately?"

Jules, she's the type that needs physical contact, makes maybe a little too much friendly contact with people she doesn't know all that well. The idea of going so long with limited contact, it'd probably horrify her. Her eyebrows furrow just for a second at the look Em casts her hand, brushing her hand behind her ear a little nervously.

"Sorry?" She looks genuinely confused for a moment, default smile turning perplexed."Why ever would you apologise? Seriousness is extremely admirable." And it is, to her. Being able to be serious, operate under that pressure, not laugh it all off. "You have to be very brave to be serious."

But, ah. Talking too much is a habit of hers, lips pressing together and brow creasing apologetically at running on on the face of a change of subject. Looking down at her notes, she shakes her head. "I think I might have left my muse back in London, actually. It's all rather unimaginative, at the moment."

Her eyebrow arches and she smiles a little, as if thinking Jules is a little odd - but actually, her mind is trying to imagine if someone would tell Ellie that. Serious being brave. That's rather weird. Yet, she doesn't comment on it, simply sipping the rest of the wine, setting the glass down, and playing her finger over the rim again.

"That's too bad," a sigh. "I was hoping I would be able to read something different for a change soon." She leans her cheek on her hand again, smiling at Jules. "The readings here are rather dull. I don't know if you have had the chance to read anything here," she gestures vaguely to their surroundings.

She's talking more to herself by now, looking at the ceiling distractedly, "Maybe we could sign a petition and send it to the Queen for more variety that doesn't involve magic." A little pause, and she blinks, looking at Jules. "Maybe you should be the one sending the message, given you're used to deal with a Queen. Kind of. Unless there isn't a Queen anymore over the United Kingdom in 2007?"

The look doesn't quite register - or, rather, it does, but she's so used to being thought of as a little peculiar, odd, strange, that it just glides off her like water off a duck's back.

A musing hum. "Bits and bobs. I haven't found myself very taken with anything just yet, but something is bound to pop up. I just haven't been looking hard enough, most likely." Watching Em for a moment, Jules chuckles a bit. "Well, I will do my utmost to produce something worthy of your attention. Something very fun. Very normal, if you like." If you wanted fun, normal... smoldering, excessively smutty romance, of course. She clears her throat a bit, reminds herself to try and pull it into something resembling another genre - any genre - if the inspiration struck her. It sounded a little desperate.

"Oh, no, we absolutely still have the Queen. She's in very fine form, actually." Finally taking up her lighter, Jules flips it open, flame blossoming and setting the end of her cigarette to glow with practiced ease. A long inhale, and the smoke leaves in a pale stream with her outward breath. Her is serious for a moment - just a moment, because mention of the Queen actually leads her to think of the Queen's Council and thus her father, who she misses, along with everyone else. "Maybe you've just needed the right ambassador all these time, hm? I'll see what I can do. It could be that putting her face on postage and currency will be more than enough to negotiate some terms."

The thought, although said in a jokingly tone, is appreciated, even if she is rather oblivious to the nature of Jules' writings. To be fair, however, Em would probably not outright refuse to read it, but probably would joke lightly about it. Also, she is very aware that you can't quite force an artist - in this case, a writer - to spit out a masterpiece. The creative mind doesn't quite work like that and she knows it. She lived with an artist for months before she just gave up on him unfairly.

But she won't dwell on that, since that would end up making her depressed.

Em lets out a snort at Jules words, tapping her nails against the glass distractedly. "Too bad neither of those things exist here. Then again, she's missing a few loose screws." And as if to indicate that, she taps the side of her head. "So maybe you'll be able to convince her."

There's a thoughtful pause and she laughs a little.

"You would do great as our Public Relations."

Truth be told, Jules wasn't doing too awfully, it was more that she was a little horrified at the thought of people she didn't know well knowing about the real nature of her writing. She was horrified at the thought of a good many people who did know her well being aware, as well, although those were mostly family. Maybe she'd push herself, try to write something that wasn't totally horrific, one of these days.

"Maybe she's missing said screws because neither of those things exist here." She's got laughter in her voice, again, and picks up the wine and taps a finger against it with a bit of a questioning look, seeing if Em would like any more. "It could be that all we needed to do was make her feel more official as a monarch, or something like that."

A quiet little snort of a her own, and a grin. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, hm?"

Emilia shakes her head. She doesn't seem to quite agree with Jules - although she doesn't say it right away, too busy saying Oh, thank you at the offered wine, pushing the glass towards her for a refill.

"I hardly think that she needs to feel like a monarch. She took us all from our homes. Kidnapped us, actually. I don't know what kind of diplomat does that."

There's a bitterness in her words that she can't quite mask. How could she, anyway? It's not like she needs to - she's in her right to loathe the Queen and her stupidity and antics that make Em have a great dislike for her. In fact, because of those she has developed the habit of brushing her fingers idly against her collarbone where a tiny scar lays - caused during the antics of said carnivorous flowers, as one had taken a good bite out of Em before Tifa managed to rescue her. If fact, you can see it, a white line against her skin, across the bone of the collar.

"Hm, I don't think it's desperate," she shrugs. "You're good with people and you know how to talk. I don't see what's the catch here."

Jules listens as she takes Em's glass and carefully pours her another glass, checking the sides for any drips before resting it back on the table, and reaching for her own glass. Her own silliness aside, Em did have a point. The kind of point that really, in the end, couldn't just be ignored with the hope it would go away. They were all stuck here, that thought making Jules chew a little on the inside of her cheek.

She takes her time refilling her own glass, swirls it and takes a sip before putting together a reply. Despite appearances, she wasn't deaf to the sound and feel of unpleasant emotions. "Not any that would be considered good, to say the very, very least." A little laugh, but it's short and half-hearted. In fact, she's looking down, seriousness filtering into her expression a little.

"I certainly know how to talk, you're right there." Since she's looking down, she doesn't try to guard her expression quite so carefully for a moment, though her voice sounds as Jules as ever. "Someone a little more grounded might be better for the job, wouldn't you say? I might start recommending better colours for her complexion."

She glances back to Em, the movement of her fingers catching her attention and drawing it to the scar. A little frown; without thinking, she leans a little closer to look at it. "What's that from?" Probably none of her business, she realises, possibly something not to be spoken about, but once again she's spoken without necessarily thinking about it properly, about personal boundaries.

Emilia frowns slightly and takes a sip of the wine, thoughtfully so. She isn't actually the type of person that acts, much more the sort that would fare better in reacting, but Jules, well, she strikes her as a very much acting person - one with initiative. She could be wrong, of course, she isn't usually good with recognizing key points in someone's personality unless she knows them for a while.

"Hmm. I still think you would do good," she isn't trying to leave a compliment or anything like that, no. She just can be very honest and sometimes tactless and not even notice - of course, this isn't the case, because it's a good thing she's saying to Jules, but she can be very blunt and very sincere about things when confronted about certain subjects. "Maybe doing that would make her a little more sympathetic."

She is, however, a little surprised when Jules leans in and her reaction is to lean back a little, more surprised than offended. She doesn't understand what she's saying at first, trying to look down only to realise she can't really see the scar, only feel it, and covers it a bit self-consciously with her hand. Her expression is a little strained and she looks at the cigarette on the ashtray, thumb stroking over the slight lump of the scar.

"Ah, it was one of the... things that happened here. Before you came." She looks a little nervous, a little... displeased. "I was--" There's a sigh and she looks at Jules almost as if she's apologizing for saying something so downright ridiculous. "There were briefly flesh-eating flowers." Yeah. She knows how ridiculous that sounds. "It-- It bit me and if it hadn't been for Tifa..." She trails off and waves her hand dismissively, as if to swat away unwanted thoughts. "It was just a big bite, so... it left a mark."

To be fair, she's only telling this to sort of prove a point - that the Queen really is crazy and has no manners and more often than not, doesn't seem to know what she's doing at all.

"I'll definitely think about more tactics to get closer to her heart, then." Reacting or acting depended on the situation, what Jules could bring herself to be comfortable with, or what was as stake. There was adventurous, and then were was scary. Considering what she was about to hear, working out how she'd deal with the Queen was about to get rather interesting.

Realising Em has leaned back, Jules pulls herself back, in turn. She a slightly nervous kind of smile, that default expression of hers tensing a bit as Em goes into her explanation. Part of her just wants to grab onto a random topic of conversation, anything - Tifa, that's rather unusual; short for Tiffany? - and run with it, try to pull the line away from this increasingly alarming revelation being laid out for her.

She doesn't, though. Some things do sink past absurdity, and when it's not a rhetorical and rather a specific person, someone she knows, outlining something awful, then pushing it away is too horrendous. Tempting, because dealing with horrible things that close to you is awful, past anything she ever wants to do, but Jules has had the privilege of her life being easy and nothing terrible happening to any of her friends. Sheltered, really.

Silence wraps around her throat for some collection of moments. She can't quite fathom how to respond, but finally looks at Em, shaking her head. The robots hadn't harmed anyone, but flesh-eating plants? "This place really is terrifying, isn't it?"

So much for the happy, glowy, idealistic bubble. "I'm very glad that you were all right," she adds, before a little more of her wine disappears. "We have landed in a bit of a mess, haven't we?" And that would be a worried smile. Like everything has to be fixed with a smile, somehow.

Interesting would hardly be a word Emilia would use for the aforementioned situation. She nods at Jules defeated realization about the nature of this place and ends up sighing, returning to brush her fingers over the little scar.

Em sighs and grabs the wine glass, taking a nice big sip from it, rolling the glass in her hand idly, watching the wine circle within it. "It can be," but there's a very small part of her that's only thankful to it because it's keeping a certain monkey safe and away from the war.

The worried smile she gets, but she doesn't see beyond it - it takes a while for Em to get used to new people and to let them in her life and Jules is relatively new to both processes, so she nods almost in silent defeat, taking another sip of the red liquid, appreciating its texture, its weight, its taste.

"On top of that, one which he did not choose to be involved with."

In a gesture of... something, solidarity maybe, she gently taps her glass against Em's in a bit of mock-'cheers'. Happy topics to celebrate, and all that lark. A little sip, and she's back to wracking her brain, trying to think of some way to salvage it, even in the face of Em's rather damning information.

"Well," she starts. It's the kind of tone people use when they're about to say something really trite and mildly irritating, like when life gives you lemons, make lemonade! "Well, we have been thrown in the deep end, but it's... bound to be some kind of learning experience. I mean, the things we're going through here, they'll teach us all kinds of new things." She drinks down a long draw of wine, inhales the next breath of her cigarette deeply, letting the smoke sit in her lungs before slowly exhaling, just taking a moment and lapsing into silence.

Of course, she'd been rather literally thrown in the deep end when she was six, and that had put her off learning to swim for quite a long time. It didn't bode very well for her desperately hopeful theory. That's hardly going to stop her from trying. "Maybe we didn't choose it, and we still don't want it, but there's something good we can get from it anyway. Glass half-full and that whole thing," she adds, tapping the side of her half-full glass to illustrate.

Edited 2011-05-25 11:06 (UTC)

The chirpy tone followed by Jules silence doesn't bother Emilia and she seems to quietly appreciate that particular moment, cheek on hand, eyes watching but not really looking the shelves surrounding them. She doesn't quite agree with Jules, however, in the sense that it's a learning experience, because she can't really be bothered to translate a traumatic event into learning experience, In a way, it is, no doubt, but for Em, well... She would only go as far as making this a learning experience in the sense that she has learned to avoid everything the Gardens throw at her. And wash them away with wine and cigarettes. Keep to try and maintain a routine, some sort of normality amidst the crazy happenings.

Her eyes go back to Jules once she starts talking again, and although she still looks a bit distant from reality, she is listening to her words. She shrugs a little bit at the tap of the glass and as if to illustrate a point, picks hers up and takes a sip.

"Mine's rather half-empty, I'm afraid," in truth, she considers herself a realist. However, for some people outside, she really is a bit of a pessimist, even if down-to-Earth instead of a chaos and drama inducing pessimist. "But I suppose we have to manage."

"I think 'full' is a nicer sounding word than 'empty'. The way it comes out, it even sounds more satisfying than 'empty', if you are leaving meaning completely aside," she comments musingly, looking at nothing in particular as she taps her chin, and then refocusing on Em. "We can do it, I'm sure. Friends help each other with these things, yes?"

Her smile is bright, and maybe just a little bit hopeful, rather than purely confident, as she lightly knocks her shoulder against Em's. "We'll be fine. You'll see."

She sounds completely confident in that. She feels completely... okay, no, not completely confident. Maybe even a bit shaky, but in her experience, it helps to have someone to give the pep talks and make everyone believe that it'll be fine (admittedly, not with problems quite so immense) and that was a job that traditionally fell to her. With that in mind, and in the interests of lightening the mood in general and avoiding tense topics, she reaches for a book from another chair at the table. "Before I forget, you might want to dread this. It's very, very good. Lots to do with pirates!"

Female pirates seducing noblewomen, having a steamy affair and falling in love, admittedly. Another admission: 'good' as a euphemism for hilariously bad.

The comment makes her quirk her eyebrow up. Artists and creative souls and the kind, how she knows them - them and their little self-musings out of nowhere. It's endearing, sure, but only after she has gotten to know them. Right now? Kind of odd and out of place. She may be judging a little, although to be fair, it does lessen when Jules talks about friends being friends and all that.

Friends are nice. Normal friends are very nice. Jules is normal, so she sees no harm in being her friend. A bit too optimistic and upbeat, but that's a change for all the pessimism she has coiled inside.

She finds the little bump weird, and it worries it that she does. It reminds her that she hasn't had an adult friend, a normal one, one that just felt comfortable around people... in a while. She makes a small sound in the back of her throat, surprised with herself, but doesn't voice her thoughts.

Blinking back to reality, she looks at the book given to her and takes it, turning it around to read the summary. She sighs a little boredly and quite disappointed, still looking at the book while she talks.

"That's quite thoughtful of you," a beat. "I'm getting rather tired of these, though. Do you get tired of reading the same thing again and again? Feels some of these are all the same with different names." She offers another shrug. "I'll give it a try anyway."

Jules is used to a little judgment, being thought of as a bit odd - more often shallow, vapid and then shallow again for good measure, but still judgment. She just hums a little, and if there is any chance of her picking up on that judgement, slight as it was, she'll be ignoring it and smiling.

And, naturally, sighing sympathetically, but not in an especially sad or depressed fashion. More wistful, really, like she's hoping for the day when there will be more books. “Mm. I just think of them as silly fun, myself.” Her smile suggests she really does find something funny, but she won't be specific as to the reality of it. “I actually used to do book reviews before I got into writing. A lot of romance novels. After a while you really start running out of things to say, and need to make extremely imaginative use of a thesaurus to try and get around writing the same thing about eighty different ways.”

A relaxed little shrug. “At the very least, it will make for a nice paperweight that's good for starting conversation.” With that, she leans over to Em and gently taps her nose. "I really will get to work on something more interesting."

"Oh, that sounds relatively interesting," it's said in a very genuine tone, actually, not mocking nor feigning interest - Emilia is hardly a person to do the fake interest bit, the very least. "A bit challenging, but interesting. I could never do that, though. When people ask me what I think of a book, I tend to go with yes or no."

She smiles a little embarrassedly at the confession, idly scratching a finger against the side of her neck.

But then comes the nose tap and Em, not wanting to be rude, leans back slowly instead of jumping a bit at the sudden contact like she almost did. She frowns slightly, a subtle shift of her expression. She isn't angry or bothered, but Em is not a person much given to physical contact, especially not with people that she hasn't known for that long, but she isn't so rude that she would slap away a hand. She can be extremely blunt and to the point it is almost too honest, but, again, that's only when she is around people she either knows for long or isn't exactly interested in befriending. Given how Jules is neither, she keeps herself in check but also keeps her distance.

"I think the weather can be a better conversation starter, in this case."

Uncomfortable with homosexuality? Hm, not as much as she could have been if her best friend wasn't gay, if one has to be honest. The time she has spent here and the terrible romantic adventures of the books in this library have also helped her a little bit, but there is still some part of her that's... confused, if one would want to be politically correct about it.

“Very enjoyable. I met some really nice people through it, too. Lots of... personalities, you could say.” One could call Jules a personality, herself, but she pays that no mind. “Some books are hard to give a summary that does what they evoked justice, though, which is simultaneously frustrating and extremely satisfying when you get it right.”

Jules grins a bit, shaking her head at Em's embarrassment. “To be fair, 'yes' or 'no' is often good enough if you're being asked whether you recommend a book, an you're sparing the interviewer any chance of giving the story away, which is also good. There are definitely perks to not talking as much as the people who do it for a living.”

Her eyebrow arches just a little at the shift back and the comment, but the expression is made less apparent by her laughter. Jules is the kind of person that laughs with her whole body, once she gets going – nose crinkling, shoulders shaking and her whole body doubling over. A lot of the time, though, what people get is Jules laughter: lite, a tamer, controlled laugh that just bubbles up out of nowhere to break awkward situations down and stave them away, a nervous habit. She's not laughing amazing hard now, but she does grin, and the shoulders do shake a tiny bit. “That is extremely classic of you. Like something from a Jane Austen novel.”

"Ah," she arches her eyebrows up. Although she had been living in America for quite a while, Emilia has always been very close to her French habits and the French way of thinking, so celebrities and the like have never been something that interested her much. Sure, she enjoyed going to the cinema and all of that, but their actual lives did no interest her. "That's nice."

What else was she supposed to say?

The shift on the laughter doesn't register. For Emilia to understand and catch subtle things on people, she has to have spent some time with them. Jules is a relatively new person in her life, so while she's catching on to the basic, superficial stuff, the little things are not something she is attentive to - she has never quite been much of a people's person anyway.

"Classic? I'm not from that far back - '93 is a perfectly modern age." No, it isn't, but hey, it is for someone who is from that year. She's taking the wine and sipping the rest of it, putting the glass back on the table but pushing it away from her. She's all set for now. Crossing her arms on the table, she leans her cheek on her them and sighs, closing her eyes. "I wouldn't mind reading Jane Austen for a change." A bit nostalgic.

Stupid place.

"'Personalities' is a bit of a euphemism," she admits after a moment, laughing a bit. "Some of them were just a little..." She tries, perhaps in vain, to think of a gentle way to phrase it. "Pretentious and egotistical, I suppose you might say. Real characters, you know? You'd think they'd written something befitting Tolstoy, rather than a colourful romance novel that just barely avoiding plagiarising The Scarlet Pimpernel." Her next little sigh is amused, and she shakes her head. "People can be a bit odd."

And perhaps it was time for the world to spin right off its axis, with Jules commenting on how odd people could be.

Another laugh, this one more relaxed again. "I was teasing, although I am sure you'd look lovely in a bonnet." A little shake of her head. "I think it hasn't quite sunk in for me, yet. I'm still finding these books rather comical." It was so funny, though, to think of someone from the same world, but in the past. Maybe less strange than other worlds, technically, but thinking of the fabric of time folded over and tangled up was mindboggling.

Then, as was so often the case, a thought struck her from out of the blue. "There are so many good books you can't have read!" You'd think she was announcing some horrific tragedy.

Em smiles a little at the description of those people, picking at the hem of her sleeve distractedly as Jules speaks, nevertheless listening to her. She looks up from her idle task and smiles a bit; it's good that Jules considers some things odd. It means she doesn't lack of common sense - at least, not entirely, as Em sometimes wonders.

But, ah, there is an arch of her eyebrow as the mention of a bonnet comes up. She does find History an interesting matter, finds the whole Jane Austen era quite romantic, but she hardly thinks she would fit well in their frilly dresses and quite fancy parties. Em is a bit of a simple girl like that, after all, and it shows in the way she chooses to present herself, simple clothes, long hair always in a ponytail or a bun, quiet and modest manners beneath all the French bluntness.

She smiles just a bit when Jules announces she was just kidding and shrugs. It's not that she can't take teasing, but an introvert like her sometimes takes them seriously. No harm done, however, and she stops picking at her sleeve, shaking her head slightly. "I don't think I find them comical at all." The word would not be comical, no. "But it is all that we have. I was thinking of addressing the Queen about this censorship." Idle thought, not entirely serious. She would hardly be proactive in this type of situation.

"Hm," it's an amused little sound. "I suppose I have a lot to catch up, but I figure I will get to 2007 without much trouble. I'll just be older." And then apparently that is a weird thought because now she is imagining herself with fourteen more years standing there next to Jules. It seems to bother her slightly and she shakes her head, pushing those thoughts away.

Edited 2011-05-31 18:22 (UTC)

"You don't?" She sounds surprised. It's the reaction she's rather come to expect, though admittedly, that was largely from her friends, the ones in on the joke and the silliness. "You don't find the melodrama and the cliches entertaining?" Curious, more than anything else.

Then again, she did have a point about censorship, really. Tapping her finger against her lips, she slumps a bit against the table, and sighs. "It goes past the books, too. If you try to use the internet here, all you get are wikipedia articles on romance. It's terrible." But, she laughs a bit - much as she always does. "Maybe that could be my first order of business as representative of the women of the Gardens." A little grin, raising her shoulders and stretching a bit, she looks extremely pleased. "It sounds rather fun." It did, actually, if perhaps rather more serious than her usual endeavours.

"I suppose so. I'm sure you will be extremely classy and refined. If we run into each other, I'll have to insist on fourteen years of birthday dinners to catch up." She seems complete unfazed, but it is a strange thought, almost disturbing, in a way, that things were so mixed up and out of order. "It's a shame I don't make a habit of memorising lottery numbers, or I might have been able to give you something interesting to take home with you."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

it was a sin, so sweet and true

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject