(1311-11-27) The Damp-Tongued Adventures of Marco and Licorice
Summary: Marco comes a-bothering the White Roses
RL Date: November 27, 1311
Related: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank)
alienor marco raimbaut 

White Rose Solar

Compared to the darker, heavy interior of downstairs, the solar feels like a pleasant contrast, where the use of light pastel tones and white provide a light air that is almost convincing. Floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city are guarded by curtains in light shades of pastel greens and blues. A few thick carpets cover the polished oak floor, where a few high backed armchairs are arranged about a kneeling cushion in the center. Beverages offered here will usually be white sparkling wines, to lighten the mood and keep up a certain innocent air. The tapestries on the white walls are kept to lighter hues as well, picturesque depictions of alyssum flower arrangements along with those of modest maidens in innocent situations, while the darker side to Alyssum canon reveals itself only to the attentive eye, in the details of the woodwork in dark mahogany side tables and the seats, depicting a pair of man and woman caught in obvious amorous entanglement, she faintly resisting and averting her gaze.

Free time for the littlest white roses finds Raimbaut at rest in the solar, where many of the veiled beauties of the house are in residence, the doves in their dovecotes. Raimbaut himself, under such guardianship, has folded a piece of paper into a little book of eight pages and is dabbling at drawing in it with pen and some lovely, sparkly indigo ink. The tip of his tongue pokes out from the corner of his mouth in concentration as he moves the tip of the pen in short, purposeful movements.

Marco makes his way into the solar letting his eyes wander the area. He smiles in faint bemusement at the simple pale niceness of the solar. He lets his eyes wander and they catch on a new figure. He smiles in bemusement watching the focus of concentration on the work. Marco drifting nearer standing nearby watching curiously peering to see the work of drawing that Raimbaut is working on watching curiously.

Raimbaut has never heard of shading, in all evidence, or, at least, hasn't chosen the tools to help him best display as much. Bold strokes of dark blue ink glimmer against white in star, childish lines, drawing a cartoonish outline of a puppy dog with big floppy ears and a tail with little lines to indicate its motion to and fro. It seems to be looking at a similarly simple-shape based rendering of a butterfly on the page opposite.

Marco chuckles softly as he considers the floppy eared dog and he smiles faintly, "Is this a friend of yours?" He asks mildly watching the youth make his drawing smiling thoughtfully as he considers the young man and his drawing.

The chuckle draws Raimbaut from his ink-dazzled reverie, and he sits up straight, all suddenly, shoulders drawing in toward his ears and eyes widening at the sudden proximity of the nobleman. Features pale but for the tips of his ears, heated already by the confrontation. After a moment of shock, he wiggles his head in a bashful little shake, lips drawing into a tiny smile.

Marco smiles down at Raimbaut, "Hello there. Puppy has your tongue?" He asks playfully looking to him with a smile and he considers in amusement as he looks on curiously and expectantly.

Raimbaut's lips split, despite himself, and he flashes his teeth at Marco's joke, his eyes squeezing shut in a moment of mirth, and then he nods his head quite enthusiastically, picking up his pen once more and dabbing the nib upon his own tongue, he dips it into the ink and with one, two, three slow strokes he draws a big floppy tongue lolling out of the puppy's muzzle, then fans out his hands helplessly with a sweet little shrug, holding the pen between one thumb and forefinger and flicking a speck or two of blue across the side of his neck in the process.

Marco is standing over Raimbaut watching him drawing. He looks amused at that as the young man adds a tongue to the creature, "Well I'm sure he'll put it to good use." He says wryly as he continues to look bemused, "And does he have a name?" He asks curiously.

Alienor drifts into the Solar in a sweet and girlish gown designed to show off her tiny waist with proper modesty, while covering everything else. She wears a light veil, thin enough to let her green eyes sparkle through, and she drifts almost immediately to where her dear friend is drawing things. "Ooh, a puppy!" she says with delight. "What'll we name him, Raimbaut?" She turns to smile at Marco and curtsies politely. "My lord."

Raimbaut's brows pop upward and he nods most solemnly in agreement with Marco's assertion that the tongue will be well-used— the second entendre of which is utterly lost on the pure-minded novice, of course! In a fascinatingly juvenile expression of perspective, he draws about half of a human face beside the dog, a certain angle of the brow and upward sweep of synchronized waves at the forehead defining the otherwise fairly indistinguishable figure as Marco himself, getting sloppy puppy kisses from a puppy now only about half the size of his head. A few empty commate marks show just how affectionate the puppy kisses are. His features brighten to see Alie arriving, and he taps the tail end of the pen against his mouth in thought before, with an almost palpable sense of discovery issuing from within, he draws a word bubble from where Marco's mouth would be if he weren't getting doggy kisses. Inside the word bubble, though, he only draws a piece of candy.

Marco laughs softly at the addition to the drawings. He shakes his head and smiles, "Oh? Candy is the name? Or sugar?" He looks amused at the quick drawings if youthfully simple. He glances to Alienor and smiles, "Hello again. It seems we have quite the talent on our hands."

"We do! Both Raimbaut and I both draw, and sometimes we draw together. He does better with people and I do better with scenery, but sometimes I paint his quick sketches, and they turn out delightfully," Alienor replies, putting an innocent arm around Raimbaut's waist for a quick and demure little side hug. "Something sweet, for a sweet nobleman, I'd say. Perhaps… 'Licorice'? For a name? The dog is licking him, after all!" She points at the candy. It could reasonably assumed to be licorice.

Raimbaut draws his lips together into a little purse, shaking his head shyly at Marco, lowering his eyes as if discouraged to have to correct the Lord, but, no, neither of those are the puppy's name. But Alie, well, she's lived with the mute rose for long years, now; she's his best friend and sort of shares a brain with him, sometimes. When she deciphers his picture-riddle, he claps his hands together and then reaches out to boop her nose with one forefinger while booping his own with the other. Then, with hopeful eyes, he returns his attention to Marco, to see whether he likes the joke, too.

Marco glances back to Ali, "Oh? I don't think I've seen your painting. Just your reading." HE says and he laughs, "A sweet nobleman? I'm not oft confused for that." He points out in amusement, "But that is a delightful name." He says with warm laughter. "But that is a very good name. Very very good." He says nodding in approval and smiling. You two are quite close? Always good to have friends."

"Yes, Raimbaut and I have been friends for a long time, and I would say that he is my best friend. He was very excited for me to debut, though he's also very nervous about his own debut and didn't want to know much about mine, except that it was a wonderful tea party," Alienor explains brightly.

Raimbaut's smile spreads more lax when the Lord praises his jestfulness. He sets the nib of his pen down into its case, then the rest of the pen beside it, and closes up the ink, pushing away his little homemade sketchbook to dry and giving Alie wonderously caring gazes over his shoulder as she describes their friendship, bringing his hands to cover his heart, feeling blessed to know he's her best friend, and not just vice versa. On cue of her describing her debut in such chaste terms, he sprawls in his seat and takes an oh-so-fancy sip of imaginary tea, feigning to be in among the elites at the soiree, then drops the pretense and grins at Alie quite playfully. To Marco, then, with a quirked brow, a quieter, questioning sip?

Marco smiles, "Oh? Your best friend. Well isn't that a delight." He considers that, "Oh nervous? I hope you shouldn't be too nervous. Alienor seems to have come out of it alright." He chuckles, "I'm sure yours will be quite the event though." He offers to Raimbaut and laughs at the fancy sipping. "Quite the wonderful tea party." He reaches a hand over with pinky out to clink an imaginary teacup to Raimbaut's.

Alienor bends playfully at the waist and blows an entirely chaste kiss at Raimbaut, then one at Marco, pretending to be the utterly innocent debutante once more. She spins a little to make her dress stand out and giggles in delight.

Raimbaut looks to his dear friend in speculation, then relief, pure and simple, when she shows herself a maiden once again, innocent of all that has happened since her debut. To toast to the harmlessness of the rite of passage, he returns the soundless clink of cup against cup, eye contact boldly meeting with Marco's before shying away again with a big, bashful smile.

Marco smiles at the bending and playful kisses he chuckles at the warmth and giggling. He then looks to Raimbaut and chuckles softly, "We shall just have to see when your debut is then I suppose. It will no doubt be quite the scene little one." He lifts a hand as if to ruffle Raimbaut but then lets his hand drop with a rueful smirk.

"Thank you, my lord, for remembering the rules. It is most appreciated. But I do believe that Raimbaut has a bit of time yet before his debut. There is much to learn as a novice, you may understand, and it is important to understand how to maintain one's innocence even when one's patrons are intent on spoiling it," Alienor points out, checking her dress and smoothing it to make certain that it remains quite modest and yet shapely. Demurely alluring.

Raimbaut shakes his head shyly, chin lowered and cheeks beginning a slow-simmering burn to the heat of Marco continuing to contemplate his debut. He freezes in fear before the hand intent on upsetting his virginal curls, but melts again in relief when he is not thus despoiled. He agrees with an enthusiastic nod that he is still quite a while until his own debut, and, when Alienor needs reminding, he takes a tally on his thumb… then forefinger… pulling back each digit from a fist with the index finger of his other hand. Middle finger, ring finger, and pinky— then turns his palm toward Alie to show her the number of fingers.

Marco smiles, "Well nothing wrong with taking his time till then." He chuckles softly, "Rules are so troubling." He says absently but he smiles as he looks to Alienor for a moment with a smirk and then back to Raimbaut, "But I'm sure you'll make your mark on those who will attend before the time comes." He says in amusement and he clearly enjoys watching Raimbaut's flush.

"Five months, and then we shall throw him such the soiree, and hopefully you will have the chance to come," Alienor volunteers, moving to sit finally, on the arm of Marcus's chair, so he is framed by her and Raimbaut. This puts her rather within touching range, as if she is daring him to behave and innocently believing that he will.

Raimbaut can barely handle all of this attention, and so, drawing his little sketchbook toward him, he rips clear the pagelet featuring the damp-tongued adventures of Marco and Licorice, and, setting it flat on the table, he folds its top edge down and makes a crease, then folds it the other way, as well, coming up with a small square of folded paper which he holds between the fore and middle finger of his left hand, and, placing his head firmly upon the table and covering it over with his whole right arm and its floppy white sleeve, he holds out the paper for Marco to take away— a remembrance of him and today, if he will.

Marco smiles, "A soiree is it?" He chuckles, "I look forward to see that." HE says and smiles looking between the two and gives Ali a wry look, "Mmph." He reaches up though to take the paper and smiles at Raimbaut, "Why thank you, It's delightful." He says to Raimbout smiling, "I shall treasure it I'm sure at least till your debut." He offers with a wink.

"I think there should be dancing and music and song," Alienor suggests helpfully to Raimbaut from her perch on Marco's chair. "Don't you think that would be pretty? And you could get to know potential patrons by moving to the music with them."

Raimbaut's eyes manage their way from the folds of his armsleeve just in time to catch the wink from Marco and then go hidden again, the mop of his boyish curls flopping over his armsleeve to complete the concealment and highlight the anxious little squirm the pair are inducing in him. He shakes his head into his elbowpit at the idea of the dancing, burrowing his way deeper into the space where he can only imagine nobody can see him.

Marco smiles, "oh certainly dancing. Would you like singing then?" He asks as he glances between the two smiling in amusement at that and he chuckling softly, "Something to relax people as you perform? Are you going to perform?"

"Don't worry, Raimbaut. You don't have to perform. Well, only a little. But the patrons should be able to see what they are bidding on. You might wear a less flowy garment and …I don't know, do playful little sketches for each potential patron," Alienor recommends.

Raimbaut makes a noise, which is a strange thing altogether— still, only a slight sniffle as though on the cusp of needing to hold back anxious little tears. He does nod his head (such as anything so wedged between his arm and the table might be said to nod) when asked if he will perform. To Alie's voice he even lifts his eyes again, then sits up straight, keeping his eyes downcast as he lifts his hands both to mid-air before him, palms in, and tickles the air with his fingers.

Marco glances to the young man and he smiles, "Oh?" He studies that and the sniffle." He watches curiously, "You'll play an instrument?" He asks curiously he then glances to Allie and he smiles, "I'm sure everyone would enjoy that little characters being made. You'll show off just fine I'm sure Marielle will ensure you're displayed to best effect." He says assuringly.

"Oh, yes! Raimbaut is a lovely harpist. You should listen to him play at some point. It's lovely," Alienor agrees with a little nod.

Raimbaut even summons up a little smile, just there, nodding in admission of his skill with an instrument, though Alie's subsequent praise for him on his harp makes him hide his face behind both of his hands in a look of half-prideful embarrassment. He peeks between said half-swaddled fingers, then glances in panic between Alie and Marco when she invites him to hear him play. Holding up one hand, he counts off the months again. One, two, three, four, FIVE. Pointing emphatically to the number five a few times in order to best make his point.

Marco ahss an claps his hands, "A harp? Oh I look forward to hearing this." HE says looking to Raimbaut, "I'm sure it's just wonderful you should perform with that." He offers and grins, "Five months it shall be a long five months I fear."

"Ah, Lord Marco, will you make a bid on Raimbaut's debut?" Alienor wonders as innocently as possible, offering the nobleman a charming smile as she says it.

Raimbaut blinks once, then again, and turns his palm toward his face to look at the five months from the perspective he had shown it to the others. Curiously, he's lifts a brow, trying vaguely to gauge with his hands, fisherman's tale style, how long the five months will be? About this long? THIS long? But then Alie is… being Alie! And Raimbaut jumps up from his seat in a big billow of oversized white clothing, scampering around behind her and trying to reach around to cover her mouth— or else just to hide behind her, there, peeking over her shoulder at Marco with the world's widest Raimbaut eyes.

Marco smiles at Alienor, "Perhaps… perhaps I have five months to consider. But it seems not unlikely." He assures the two smiling in amusement watching Raimbaut jump up and move around. He laughs at the frantic manuever from Raibaut and smiles mischievously.

"That is a good long time to work up a good bid," Alienor points out impishly to Marco, her green eyes twinkling. "You do like us innocent ones, don't you? You like to make us squeal when you try to take our innocence away." She reaches up to ruffle Raimbaut's hair, because she is allowed to touch him, being in service like he is. And it's so innocent the way she does it.

Raimbaut hides one eye behind Alie's neck, bowing his head to the tender ruffling, the remaining honey-blonde eye watching Marco with its heart in its throat— if eyes had hearts or throats. His ears are so hot they itch him, and he only barely doesn't reach up a hand to scratch, or at least to hide the cherry red the outer rim of his ear is becoming. Marco may even be able to faintly perceive by eye what Alie can sense well and plainly behind her: how Raimbaut is trembling tensely tip to toe.

Marco chuckles softly, "I'm sure I will by that time work a nice and firm bid." He assures Allie and he chuckles, "I…don't know about squeal but I do enjoy the thought." He agrees readily enough smiling at the two watching looking back and forth in curiosity.

"Hear that? A nice firm bid could really get you started," Alienor offers with a grin to Raimbaut. "On your marque, I mean," she momentarily clarifies.

Raimbaut holds onto the back of Alie's dress, coming up for a draught of air between lips parted as though in protest— though, of course, no words issue forth. The lower lip only wobbles and then joins its partner once more, and, as he shrugs up a shoulder to his ear, letting a smile for Marco flash across his lips before he headbutts Alie in the back once more, trying, maybe, to just burrow into her to escape this flirtatious gentleman.

Marco considers that, "On his marque of course." He assures the two and he smiles, "I should go. But it's been a pleasure to speak with you as always Alienor. And a delight meeting you young Raimbaut. I hope to see more of you soon." He offers as the young man looks discomfited and delightfully so.

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