(1311-04-18) The One With The Chin
Summary: Log Summary
RL Date: 4/18/2019
Related: None
vincens cedoric 

Eresse Residence — Noble District

The Eresse residence combines rustique naval charme with a certain noble elegance, as can be seen from the interior of the parlor, where a few windows light the room generously during the day. At the wall hangs a shield with the family crest, the green ship on a field of white. Dark mahogany furniture provides a nice contrast to the green color favored in the upholstery in the furniture. A table with a number of elegantly carved chairs govern one side of room, set before a wall that sports a few paintings of naval scenes. To the other side, there is the hearth, plain dark grey marble, which has a variety of small ship models arranged upon the mantelpiece. Before the hearth, a few comfortable armchairs have been arranged, green cushions thrown in to add more comfort.

A door at the back leads to the kitchens and a stairway leading upstairs towards the private quarters of Eresse lords and ladies currently residing in the city.

When looking out of the windows, you see: It is a spring day. The weather is cool and clear.

Vincens is standing by one of the windows, with one hand pressing a curtain back against the wall. The other hand holds a wineglass very lightly by the stem so carelessly that the rich red fluid inside threats to drip out onto the expensive flooring. Expression and posture both reveal little about his current state of mine. The first simply being having fallen into a relaxed neutrality and the second being the upright bearing drilled into young noble men everywhere. He turns a little when the different timbre of a noblemans footsteps sound behind him (servants do so like to sneak about) and offers a smile to Cedoric. "I find myself wondering when the next storm is due."

Someone may once well have drilled into Cedoric Dodier the meaning of standing up straight as befits a nobleman of station— yet, hark, here he swaggers down the corridor, boots falling with confidence against marble, form careening in a genial lean to brace a casual elbow up against the window-frame, pinning the curtains in place and leaning in next to his cousin to cast a half-squinted glance up to the skies. "I wouldn't trust it on the long green, but, I say, I'd take up a quick round on the lawn if you were game, coz."

Vincens lifts his wine glass a little. Just to demonstrate its existence. "Alas." he smiles again. "If only you had asked before I started drinking." He pushes back away from the window and starts walking across to top up that glass with more of the same. "Tomorrow perhaps? If we start early, and you promise not to humiliate me too greatly, we could make a day of it."

Cedoric stays at the window, turning his back to it and leaning there with a crooked smile. "That's fair— You drink to-night, I'll drink in the morning and give you the lead on me," he offers, jestful of tone, if perhaps earnest of pledge. To be fair, he hardly ever plays completely sober. It's seldom a serious sort of sport, from his point of view, no matter that he enjoys it quite a lot. "So what plans will the storm keep you from this evening, then?"

Vincens takes a seat and stretches his legs out before him. He glances back to the windows, just in case things have changed out there, and then looks back to Cedoric. "Its a safe bet that there will not be a storm tonight. So it is not so much what will the storm prevent as the opposite. What will I have to endure." He gives Cedoric a quick and easy going sort of smile. "Perhaps I should just stay here and blame you."

Cedoric is still holding back the curtains, ever so helpfully. Maybe that is his best calling in life— an architectural figure. But even as stands, he digs his heel repeatedly into the floor beside the toe of his other boot, crossing them but at the ankle or below, mussing about even in the simplest of duties. "What, me? I suppose I am a storm, of sorts. But I was never any good at metaphor, so you'll have to fill out the detail," he tosses the notion away with the verbal equivalent of a shrug. "What is it you're avoiding? Or would it be whom?"

"Avoiding is a little strong." Vincens crosses his own legs at the ankle. "Dread? Perhaps that is the better? Although that seems a rather strong term when talking about avoiding mere tedium." to the question of what, or who, he gives a light shrug. "You wont know the man nor his sunken chinned daughter. Not unless you have taken up an interest in the fine art of ship building anyway." he smiles to Cedoric and shifts the tone of his voice in what is clearly meant to be an unflattering representation of the original. "You simply must allow us to welcome you appropriately! Come to dinner!" he waves a hand. His voice back to its usual. "I should make less of a thing about it. The man is merely being generous and typically I'd enjoy the opportunity to speak of his design choices. It is just that I know these things -never- involve topics more interesting than the weather, the latest fashions or just who is planning to marry who. Usually overlayered by a great deal of simpering and the occasional overbearing girl child who thinks I'll melt into her arms just because she pressed her breasts up against my arm just-so."

"What's wrong with her chin, now?" Cedoric mumbles thoughtlessly below the narrative, lifting a hand to bring one finger to bear just behind his ear with a momentary quirk of a brow. "Sounds a great bore— but who's their chef? A chef worth his salt is worth the while of ten eager bosoms bossing you through your victuals, and that's a fact."

Vincens raises an eyebrow and then barks a laugh. "You know. I didn't think to ask." He leans forward a little in his seat. "But I don't see how they can have a cook that beats our own." Another chuckle and he taps at his chin. "She's not so bad really. She even has a decent mind that one. She just has that most terrible combination of a small chin and an overbite. It makes everything beneath her bottom lip look as if its trying to hide."

"Well, you can't ask, obviously, but there are ways to find out. Ask a servant, if you're not all sure. They all go to market together and know where everyone else is working," Cedoric advises airily from his post near the window. "Ah— I think I know the sort of thing you mean. A sort of homely girl. Oh, well. No wonder her father is keen to have gents over to supper. He ought to get a better chef, though, to lure them in."

"He has money." Vincens points out. "And significant interests in the field I wish to operate in. Let us be honest. He could serve dry crackers and I'd still smile and compliment the chef." He gives Cedoric a cool smile and lifts his glass. "Perhaps I should invite you along. I imagine you would be quite effective at distracting his daughters."

"I'd go no such place for a wage in crackers, but, truth be told, I could murder a beef-steak," Cedoric returns, elbows flexing against the wall behind him, causing a subtle push and subsidance of his torso in a slow reverse push-up. "Wait— daughters, plural? I thought it was just the one with the chin," he looks wary. "Better make it two beef-steaks and a nice lamb cutlet. Are the spring lambs yet slaughtered?"

Vincens asks with absolute seriousness "Have you ever been to a formal dinner intended to draw you into a specific social clique that did not involve multiple daughters?" He cant help but smile though. "Since I can guarantee there will not be crackers I think I can offer you this. If the food is poor, I will owe you a favor. Anything of your chosing."

"Daughters are rather the bane of suppertime. They make one forget which pipe to use for swallowing and which for breathing. Well. Maybe not the chinless one. But the comely ones, at least," Cedoric goes on. "Still, out of the familial affection I bear for you, Vincens, old chum, I'll do it. Well, out of that and the hope there might be a lamb chop involved," he grins. "Come, and let's clasp hands over it, then I'll change for supper. If I'm on daughter-drawing detail I'd better wear something fitted in the hind end, better I not?"

Vincens returns to his feet to offer the requested clasp of hands. "Careful now." His own grin is tinged with good humour. "If you make too much of an the man will think I /need/ him, the beast that is ambition will descend upon our kindly hoast and then knows what drama will unfold. You may even have to make the ultimate sacrifice." He gives Cedoric a knowing grin. "With the comly one." He turns to place his mostly filled glass upon the table. It's actually quite apparant that he's a long way from being to drunk to play golf, and then turns back to Cedoric. "We don't by the way - Need him that is. His good will is merely convenient. He will speak well of my talents to those who have use of them and I will, indirectly, feed him business in turn. Rather droll truly. But worth the effort of an evening."

"Very well— I'll only change my shirt sleeves and put on a dinner-jacket. I wouldn't want to end up in an embarrassment," Cedoric leans in and even gives his cousin a convivial kiss upon the cheek while a-clasping of hands. "It's good to see you here, cous," he goes on, more earnest in spirit. "I thought the Eresse quarters would be largely empty here with le frere returned home again."

"Of course not." Vincens reciprocates the cheek kiss, patting Cedoric on his back when they move back apart. "Can you imagine an entire city without a good, strong, Eresse presence? We are practically duty-bound to be here. Besides." He says this as if he's imparting a secret on a favored compatriot. "My brother is here." A glance down at his own shirt, and the slight blue stain on the inside of the cuff, makes him sigh. "I suppose I should also prepare."

"Oh, is he? Tremendous. Even if I suppose he has better to do than to parade to supper with us," Cedoric smiles at Vincens, "The burdens of governance and what-not. Heavens, old chum, what are you thinking, that you might go to supper with a spot on your sleeve? Go and change at once, and I'll find you at the front gate," he advises and commands all at once.
GAME: Save complete.

Vincens rolls his eyes at the command but goes to do it anyway.

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