From beneath chestnut brows, he watches a far corner of the great hall. Sitting in one of the oak and velvet chairs, Raf seems at ease, physically at least....until one gets a look at his expression, that is. Worry tinges the brown gaze that seems intent on that spot and that spot alone. Eyes flicker slightly as they catch some movement there, but otherwise, they stare, blinking every now and then.
     There is a glass of wine on the table next to him, but he does not hold it, nor does he cross his legs or lean too far back in the chair. Muscles are coiled like springs, awaiting to jump into action if needed. He's been like this for an hour, sitting as a sentinel, silent and unmoving.
     There is movement from the corner again, and a raven-haired figure moves into the light, just slightly. Her face is illuminated, as are her hands and part of her darkly-clad upper torso.. but part of her still remains in shadow. Her hands are pressed to the wall and she is crouched down towards the floor. Strange eyes are closed for the moment and her expression seems peaceful. Head cocked to one side as though she listens for something, Tori remains watched carefully by her faithful retainer.
     Raf sighs softly and rubs at his eyes a bit. She doesn't appear to be raving like she was earlier, so he seems to relax a bit. Raf's fingers brush a spot vaguely on his cheek, as though testing something, then reaches for the wine glass, finally.

     The door from the guest wing opens, and the younger Victoria comes in the room, dropping a small cell phone into the front pocket of the green chenille pullover sweater that she's wearing after hanging it up. The white blouse underneath sticks out a little from the hem over her black slacks, its pressed collar over the wider green yolk.
     Seeing Raf, she smiles, following his gaze even as she greets him in a light friendly tone, "Evening."
     Tilting slightly to get a look at Tori in the shadowed corner she shares her in the greeting, though she doesn't seem to head over to that part of the room just yet, getting a feel for the mood of the moment.
     Stepping over to the credenza, she takes a cup and the carafe of coffee up to pour some for herself, "How are the two of you doing tonight?"
     The question's generally addressed to either of the two, open to be answered as they like.

     The door is heard and Raf glances up from the wine, shifts his gaze to Tori -- who remains unmoved -- and then back at the younger Victoria. He smiles weakly and replies, "Hello, Victoria..." There is a pause, then he looks back to Tori, "I'm fine... she's... she is fine for now." A little emphasis is given to 'for now'.
     Sighing, he sits up a bit on the chair and sets the wine glass down as he adds, "She won't hear you right now..." No, it seems that the elder Victoria is still lost in her own little world. Shaking his head, he murmurs, "She said she wanted to 'listen to the stones'... it calms her, I think." Standing, he stretches a little, then moves over towards Victoria.
     "She was holed up in the room for so long... I thought it would be good for her to move around a bit," he explains with a little bit of a shrug, looking a slightly lost or confused. "I was afraid she'd ruin the room William and Ian were so kind to give us."

     And to think of what these stones would say...
     A young girl, a brave girl but a wounded girl -- what would she have to say to Tori that she did not say to the dauphin before being charged to Orleans? That armored, prophetic girl, both blessed and cursed by God...
     One can only imagine from over a thousand years worth of existence the stories that this limestone has to give. Of those before, during and since William's time. There are those who have not had voices in a thousand years or so. Perhaps she communes with them. Perhaps the limestone helps to burden some of the pain after all...

     Coffee in hand, the doctor nods, coming over to sit in one of the vacant seats nearer to Raf, though still in view of Tori and her wall. "Well, there's a chance that she's developing some kind of psychometry? Have you noticed that she did those kinds of things before? Or is it new with everything else?"
     Taking a drink from the black liquid, she crosses her legs at the knee and glances back over to the Toreador once again, considering more closely perhaps the way that she's 'listening' as Raf called it.
     "I'd imagine in someplace like this that kind of ability could be overwhelming."

     Raf downs the wine, sets his glass on the tray, and pours himself something stronger. The bottle is set down a little more abruptly than he meant to and winces at the noise it makes. He glances quickly at Tori, sees she wasn't disturbed, then breathes a sigh of relief.
     Returning to his seat, Raf stretches his long legs out before him and drinks some of the amber liquid. Wincing at the burn, his response comes in a husky voice at first, "She's had this ability for a long time, actually... but I think it's more, I don't know, overwhelming to her now, maybe? Or... she loses herself in it more easily and for longer periods of time now. I think that maybe now, everything seems so big and bright and loud to her... everything is, yeah, maybe overwhelming to her."
     More amber liquid finds its way down his throat, and now he welcomes the burn after the initial shock of it. "She calms during these times because she is too preoccupied with it." And I can rest a bit.

     Reaching up to tuck a lock of hair back behind her ear, Victoria nods again, "Does she seem better in new places? Or around new things, maybe?"
     Taking another drink she turns her attention more fully to Raf again, not making any comment on the change of drinks, though it's likely that she did notice it if nothing else, "It seems theoretically like that could go either way. Either it's too quiet, or it's peaceful. Since she seems to get more upset when she's startled or overwhelmed or upset, that might be something that could help. Taking that into account when you're arranging her environment."
     "I'm not capable of something like that and places like this or the abbey can even get to me sometimes. Especially if you're already jumpy for some reason."

     Two of you can feel it and know it for what is... for the other, it would only be a subconscious realization. But the walls feel it, so how could the One Talking With Walls be immune? When the Angevin approaches, the castle comes alive for him. It ... becomes him... and like a Chorus to this hero, the limestone speaks of a duke arriving from Gascony, Navarre, Poitou and Aquitaine, wars at his heels, mount between his knees, and dust and fire kicking in his shadow.
     His true steps are much softer. Barely sounding in fact, such a thing only accentuates the languid way in which he moves, each motion well practiced and well versed for nearly a thousand years. Navy layers bring out a shock of blue in otherwise dark blue-violet eyes -- a two-buttoned navy jacket over a navy crewneck sweater with navy wool trousers.
     William sees Raf first, then Victoria and finally, on the floor? Ms. Whitethorne. He stops, hands slipping into his pockets as he continues to enter not a half-second later.

     There is a nod of Raf's head as he murmurs, "I think you have a point there, but for some reason, this calms her. When she comes out of it, she is a little... 'out there', but calm. Something about this place reminds her of how safe she is when she's around William and Ian, perhaps." The remainder of his drink is tossed back, not even savored... just knocked back.
     He glances over at the tray where the bottle of brandy is, then lets his gaze slide over to Tori. With a sigh, he puts the empty glass on the table next to him.
     Shaking his head, causing his ponytail to flip in front of one of his shoulders, he murmurs, "She's usually alright. But she has her moments, and something set her off recently. Before she went over there, I think Tori was recessed, as was 'Alice'... but it was 'Faith' that was out. Faith is usually calmer, if a bit cryptic. I just have to watch when she comes back to us tonight. I can usually tell by the expression who has come back, so if I jump up, you'll know why." If it's Alice... Raf absently rubs his cheek, as though remembering an old wound there that has healed over.
     Drawing in a deep breath and releasing it quickly, he adds, "But she should be ok. Either Tori or Faith should re-emerge. We shouldn't have to worry."
     With that, he glances up towards the door and murmurs, "Evening, William." He's becoming more perceptive, it seems. Not bad for a ghoul.

     Nodding in turn, Victoria glances back to Tori over her mug, expression noted before she looks back once more to the man next to her, "Well, that's good, I'm glad to hear it. Hopefully that's helping more than is apparent right now..."
     She continues, "A lot of dealing with multiple personality disorders of one kind or another is normally treated with behavior therapy. Some of the latest theories argue that it doesn't even matter if the inducing incident is real or imagined. Which they've seemed to do a lot of good work with people who've been recovering from distorted childhood memories through. So, in theory from that, you don't have to know the entirety of the event in question to be able to help."
     Which, in this case certainly, could be key. Since what exactly happened to the unmentioned party isn't entirely clear to anyone at all.
     Victoria looks over to the doors before William even actually comes into view, even though she can't hear the walls. Smiling warmly when he does make it into the room, she sits up a bit more again from her relaxed pose, "Evening, William. How're you?"

     With everyone comfortably In The Know here, William comfortably, if suddenly, appears at the bar cart and begins to pour from a decanter of brandy so purple it is nearly black. There is a heady and intense flavor of plum on the air, maybe a hint of clove, until he caps the bottle yet again. "I am alright," he murmurs in English out of consideration to the majority. Indigo eyes go from Raf to Tori and lastly to Victoria. "How is everyone else?" Pointed attention lands squarely on Raf.
     There is some sympathy there, to be sure...
     "I spoke with Girault," he offers in a quiet aside to Raf. "He will be returning from Germany in a couple of nights. We will be heading to Scotland and you back to Venice, it would appear..."

     Raf tries valiantly to hide the relief in his face, but for those around him, it probably practically drips from him. Nodding, he murmurs, "Thanks for the news. I'm sure that Tori will be pleased to know she is going home." The word 'home' comes out a little funny, but he tries to hide it by clearing his throat and continuing.
     His gaze flickers to Tori. "William, she is 'communing' with your castle, so you know. As I explained to Victoria, it seems to calm her. She has been... unsettled for a night or two." With that, he stands and says, "I can try to bring her back..."
     But at that moment, Tori shifts slightly in the corner, then rises. Eyes opening, she turns her head to look at the gathering before her, as though not recognizing everyone at first. Those strange eyes flicker first to Raf, then Victoria, then finally to William. His presence must have finally seeped through. "Oh..." comes the quiet voice, "I didn't realize everyone was here. So sorry..."

     "Oh, fine, thanks. I talked to Portland, they're expecting me back within the week." Victoria shrugs, seeming not to be to terribly concerned about it for whatever reason, "I'm hoping to be done with things there in time to catch Christmas at Strathfyr, though."
     It's always things.
     "I'm hoping that I'll be able to hop through Switzerland, though, and get anything I need to started there, so I can have people over for New Years." With Tori's return to the same world as the rest of the people in the room, she turns to the raven-haired woman, not put off at all obviously, "You're all welcome if you want, I'm thinking it'll be kind of small. The five of us, Raymond and Sebastian if they want to come."

     There is a smile from him. It is warm and it is true, and were one able to commune with the stones of Chinon it would be echoed there in history's varied hues. "That my home inspires peace, why should I wish it otherwise? You did not need to wake," William says directly to Tori now, "...on my account. Speaking for myself, I nearly did not make it out of bed myself. I was comfortable." And then he grins, and indigo explodes into colors with it. Some laughter, maybe even shared, that does not sound.
     He takes the glass and himself to a sofa, he settles down and finds immediate comfort. He in his layers of navy blue, like the god of the oceans. "Christmas in Strathfayr should be very interesting this year, I think. Much will be happening," and a secretive little 'I'm Up To Much' smile slants slightly. "New Years?" William nods, "...I do not see what would keep us," he and Ian, "...from it." Sebastian. William's eyebrows cock up at that and his face goes suddenly -- sour? What is that look? "DeRancey?" No, that cannot be. "Who is this Sebastian?" William wonders, putting the other Sebastian out of his mind.
     William looks to Raf and Tori as he waits on this. He sips the plum brandy, his previous expression melting into pure joy.

     Raf moves over to Tori and offers her his elbow. She looks up at his face momentarily, as though dreading to do so, then relaxes, offering a small smile. Glancing back at William as she slips a slender hand onto Raf's offered arm, Tori murmurs, "No, no.. I heard voices. I knew there were others with Raf, so I should be sociable. I didn't want to be rude."
     Her watcher appears to relax. It is Tori who is here with the rest of the world... not Faith, or Alice.
     Looking to Victoria, the Toreador questions, "Switzerland? I don't think I've been there before. I think Girault would allow another outing... that would be lovely."
     Maintaining her small smile, Tori murmurs, "William? Too comfortable to get out of bed? Why does this not surprise me?" She is obviously more peaceful and controlled than she has been, or she would not be making jokes and even attempting to keep a smile on her face. Her emotions have been difficult to regulate in the past, but right now, she seems incredibly calm...but not rigidly controlled.
     She pauses, then murmurs, "I do not know if I know Raymond and Sebastian, but I don't see why not. I like meeting new people..."
     Raf leads her over to a chair, letting her get settled. The worry and concern that etched his face so deeply earlier seem to have vanished for now, leaving him to look calmer and more relaxed, as well.

     "Sebastian Sebastian." Victoria shrugs a little and smiles, "I didn't get his last name. He's part of Raymond's court, they tend to send him along when he goes somewhere out of town. Maybe even around town, I'm not sure. He likes to skulk in that Parisian way that makes you expect to see him glaring at a poetry reading."
     She smiles, somewhat pleased with herself for some reason, "He wouldn't like it if I said that to him though. But he's friendly enough between his looks of disinterest. If quiet."
     As Tori comes over she turns to her to explain as she grins at Tori's joke, nodding in agreement., "Raymond's the prince of Tours now." Which used to be William's. There was a stir. "He's one of the only other people I know here in Europe besides the four of you, really. And we've got some common interests. You'll like him, I'm sure."
     Doesn't hurt that he's gorgeous either. Though that doesn't seem tactful to throw in.

     "Is he good looking?" Having no shame himself, he asks the question, face calmly inquisitive. Raymond's an odd duck, there's no telling. "Parisian? Well, I shall not hold that against him. One cannot help where one is born, yes?" There's a glance to Raf and a quick wink.
     Plantagenet, you are a bad man. Why is it you want to bounce every man you see of late on your lap. Wretch.
     Hands unbutton his navy jacket and reach in for cigarette and lighter. "Yes, and Raymond is very attractive himself. I should not think of seducing princes. It's the quickest way to end up without a head." A pause. "Or two."
     A quick flicker of flame, mostly hidden for Tori's benefit, causes that beautiful face to glow like an icon, incandescent. A moment later is the incense of the smoke. Cloves.

     Raf can't help but laugh as he settles down into a nearby chair. Knowing that Tori is lucid again means he can relax and enjoy himself now. Even Tori chuckles, "William... leave it to you to ask such a thing!"
     Tori turns to Victoria and murmurs, "If you say they are lovely people, that is enough for me. I will speak with Girault about it, then just await for final plans to be made. Thank you for the invitation." There is a moment's pause, then she comments nonchalantly, "Victoria, we will be surrounded by gorgeous men.. half of which we can't touch. Where is the fairness in that?" The small smile spreads into more of a grin, and for an instant, it might seem like the old Tori is back.
     Raf shakes his head, still chuckling. He says nothing at first, not feeling comfortable enough to tease William -- or Victoria for that matter -- like Tori might. But this does not mean he can't appreciate the humour. Clearing his throat a bit, he reddens a bit in the cheeks and busies himself with picking a piece of lint off his shirt.

     Tori gets a bright smile and a laugh at her joke, "That kind of resembles things here, too, doesn't it?" William, on the other hand, gets Victoria to turn her full attention, a half incredulous and more than amused expression on her face, "You told me that I should shag him on the first date. If it was a date, mostly it was drinks."
     The comments about Sebastian's appearance get a shrug, her attention still mostly turned particularly, "I didn't really notice, he seemed like he wanted to cultivate that mysterious bodyguard aloof thing."
     But, there's something to get to the bottom of here, it seems. The gaze turns to investigative, as though she's trying to figure out Plantagenet, "Your run into him at the festival went well? I didn't get to hear much about it, you went off to get my present and then Ian and I got into our discussion."
     The coffee gets a good long sip. And the head tilts.

     William exhales smoke and glances to Raf as he laughs. He gives him a look -- not an evil look by any means but one of crass appreciation. Don't laugh, my boy. You're not that far away from being part of the food chain. William chuckles suddenly, tapping away ash with one hand and holding the brandy comfortably with his other. "Mais oui, it is an important question to ask," he softly says, a half protest upon a grin. "Switzerland is cold and remote. I will not want to go long for my ... entertainment..."
     Indigo at last fastens upon Victoria, the smile hovering above his expression, promised upon the cusp of every subsequent moment. "I told you that you should prepare yourself for the possibility of a shag, and potential mistress-ship. I could not send you off to a European man with only the preparation that Maximilian may have provided you -- let alone what you picked up in America." The grin is slow but broad. "I did not say you should jump into bed with the man, but one does not extend invitations to women at three o'clock in the morning for purely academic purposes." A pause. "Not even Raymond. As polite as he is. And...oui... I spoke with him for a few minutes. It was not a long visit. I was drinking... he was on his way home..."

     Tori chuckles, commenting softly, "Leave it to you, William... leave it to you. I swear... where are these men I keep hearing about?" She teases, for since she's been in Europe, she hasn't exactly been chaste. Sure, since her 'incident', she's not exactly been with anyone... but before that? The old Tori seems to be present and stronger tonight, despite her earlier communion with those Who Are Not Here. Practically pouting, she murmurs to William, "I repeat, where are all these men and why am I not getting my share?" A wink follows this.
     This sudden change causes Raf to look up and smile. His cheeks still seem a bit flushed, but he's regained his composure. He comments lightly with a grin, "Antonio should tell you where he keeps them hiding when we go back, Tori. Maybe it's a conspiracy." The lanky ghoul stands up and wanders back over to the gathering of decanters and gets a refill.
     "Mmm... yes, I shall have to ask him," Tori continues, grinning. "So, Victoria... does this mean you have a new beau?" It's a very direct question, but not said with any malice or strange tones. It is innocent and asked rather off-the-cuff.

     "I see..." Victoria says to William with a slow nod, "Must just be my New World interpretation of things. You seemed awfully encouraging." What with the explaining how to apply perfume to get nibbles and all.
     "We should find you a nice backpacker in Switzerland. Maybe we'll find a wandering poet or an artist or something, Tori. The main trade road runs right by there, I'm sure there are all kinds of college students who traipse through the countryside. I'll ask around."
     At the direct question from her friend, though, she shrugs, taking another drink from her coffee mug, "It's probably more accurate to say I have the prospects of a new beau. William thinks it's more apparent than I do, I don't want to overestimate someone just trying to be friendly." She turns back to him again with a direct glance.
     "But, it was really kind of pointless to worry about either way when I was just going to go back to the States. Now that I'm relocating, though, we'll just have to see what happens."

     There is an exhale of smoke from Plantagenet. Women just don't get it. Am I speaking English? William settles back on the sofa, letting his head roll against the cushion of it to bring his attention to Raf, briefly. Indigo is dark and bright as he looks low between lashes to Victoria. "One does not simply get called to the private chambers of a French prince in the early hours of the morning for nothing. But... maybe you are right. Certainment, if I invited a handsome young man to my room so late, for a drink, I should like to hear his opinions on the status of the world free markets." And suddenly he grins. "But I am staying out of his... and your... business. No more advice from Plantagenet. This I promise. It is not my concern. Raymond of Tours is not Guillaume d'Angevin. For that, you may be relieved."
     Sitting up, William stamps out his cigarette and returns to nursing his plum brandy.
     The other Victoria has his attention now, and the smile is a warm one, if slight. "Girault knows more about the men of Europe than I do. I cannot imagine that he should not help you find someone. When I lived at his palazzo in Florence, he would trot someone new out for me every night. It was like a buffet..."

     Raf just about chokes on his drink. "A buffet?" he asks once he is able. He can't help but laugh at this concept. Oh, to have those kinds of connections... "I'm sorry.. that just struck me as really funny, that's all. I guess I wasn't expecting it to be described that way... though it shouldn't come as a surprise, I suppose.." His voice trails off as he flushes again.
     Tori comes to his rescue, murmuring, "Ah, yes... we cannot help but view sex and food together now, can we? William, you're terrible... but that's probably an accurate portrayal of it, non?"
     Grinning at Victoria, she murmurs, "Do not fret about me. I am merely bored some nights, that is all. I will survive. I'm merely jealous that others get to see parades of pretty men and I am not present when this happens..." Her chuckle sounds through the room, though light... she hasn't laughed this much in a long time.
     "However, it does sound like our friend has a point.. I would not think that being called to the French prince's private chambers at that hour would insinuate that he wants to have purely an intellectual chat... I would not think so at least. But, ah, that is just my mind. Perhaps he is more gentleman than some others we know." She tosses a wicked grin at William... oh, she -knows- how awful he is... and she'll take every advantage she can to use it to tease him with it.

     Victoria chuckles, "It was in the parlor of the inn where I was staying, I think he had a house somewhere else in town, because he left rather than just going upstairs when it was getting late. It was a private parlor, but I don't know that it was -that- private." Not, of course, that anyone at the inn would have said anything in any case, most likely. Raymond is, like William, a prince of France, even if the pedestrians don't know the precise title.
     She grins a little at the statement of the lack of advice, "Well, I do appreciate the advice you did give me, in any case. I'm certainly not going to say that I'm a social paragon of... any calibre at all, really. Or even entirely competent. I just seem to pretend I am fairly well."
     And this bothers her less and less, it seems. Ivory tower, here we come. Maybe.
     "But. So far, we're friends who give each other very nice expensive pieces of glass. And go look at caves. And have skirted discussions of psychology."

     "Well, now that is a point," William suddenly chimes in, chuckling. "I am not a gentleman," the brandy is lifted, toasted and finished. "But then, mais non, I never claimed to be." He looks to Raf, as it to make sure he is going to recover from all the choking he seems to be doing. Perhaps he needs lessons on swallowing. That mouth forms a slight smile. "Yes, buffet. So many dishes, so little time. What do you feel like tonight, William? Italian? French? Greek?" He grins then. "It was a buffet of a sort, I suppose."
     Now that the brandy is done, it is time for a cigarette again. He has to have his hands busy and his mouth full -- he need not explain why to anyone here. "Alright, so it was a parlor, not a private apartment. You didn't tell me that," William notes to her, grin slanting. "I'm sure you did just fine. He asked about you and regretted he could not linger. Most in his business can't travel frequently unless on business," he murmurs. "Attaches aside. Friends who give expensive gifts, this is fine too, mais oui, should it be nothing more than that. He is a good man to be friends with, I think."
     The cigarette is lit, pulled upon by that mouth of his, and a breath of fire is seconded by one of smoke. William sighs and visibly seems to relax. But occasionally his right leg will bounce. An unconscious habit of one who may only barely be restrained. "Hmm... you do not have to wait for Venice or Florence for lovely things," William tilts his head toward Tori. "If you want a parade, I might be able to manage something..."

     Tori grins, murmuring happily, "Victoria, if something comes of this, I'll be very happy for you, dear friend. If nothing but a good friendship comes of it, then as William says, this is still good...as are gifts. I will keep my fingers crossed for you, however."
     Then, she laughs. She can't help but laugh at all of this. Poor Raf blushing and choking. Victoria and William bantering back and forth about the intentions of the French prince. And now parades of pretty men being dangled before her like a carrot. "Do not tempt me, William... It has... been a while." You may not see her for nights... or some of the pretty men you taunt her with. "It is so, so incredibly tempting... Hm. Well, perhaps a parade is not quite what I need, but perhaps just a sampling.. I'm sure Raf could find a way to occupy himself for a night, non?"
     Raf glances up at Tori, then at William and Victoria, then knocks back the rest of his drink, not quite sure what to say about all of this. When he finishes, he says, "Um, sure... I could go sketch or something..." Or something.

Posted by rowan at November 12, 2003 12:22 PM