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Thread: Picking Through Our Roles [9/5, wee hours of the morning, Elliot/Emma]

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    House Beaumarche Elliot Beaumarche's Avatar  
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    Picking Through Our Roles [9/5, wee hours of the morning, Elliot/Emma]

    Elliot's late return to his rooms was marked by a brisk walk and a tight look of consternation on his face; the Beaumarche lord having retreated from the men's gathering as quickly as possibly without being rude -- even though that in itself was a few hours longer than he would have wished to remain. His uncomfortable exchange with Dastan De Angelis was still barking in his mind, and Elliot could not help but feel the tension bunch up in his shoulders; his hands flexing in and out of a fist, feeling the ire that could not be quelled. He felt himself being made a fool by these men, who spoke politics more fluently than even Emma could -- and whether or not it was simply paranoia, Elliot could not shake that insecurity. Not for the first time he questioned himself; what was he doing here?

    It was all this that clouded the Beaumarche man's concentration as he stalked the long hallway to his rooms, and wrenched open the door to get inside. Elliot slammed the door behind him without a moment's thought -- and then immediately winced; realizing he was barging through the Beaumarche temporary chambers, forgetting about the two sleeping sisters he would be jarring awake with his noise.

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    House Beaumarche Emma Beaumarche's Avatar  
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    Elliot couldn't know that Emma had just returned not shortly herself; her evening that she assumed would be short and tranquil, ending up being anything but -- instead replete with interactions with men she had never met or had not seen in many years. In fact, it was a series of meetings that weighed heavily, and strangely, on Emma's shoulders; and when Elliot came bursting into the Beaumarche chambers, his entrance anything but subtle, Emma had been sitting in the parlor, unable to seek sleep just yet; her knees tucked to her chest where she sat on the sofa, the wrist of her gown lifted to her nose -- trying to smell the willowy perfume Sir Guy had told her she carried with her. She thought briefly of Dorin, and wondered if he carried back the same -- if the Hunter lord picked free the lint of the pollen from his clothes, as well.

    The noise of Elliot's return jarred Emma out of her head, and she nearly fell off the side of the reclining couch; but instead she scrambled to her feet, and hurried to the mouth of the entranceway, her brow furrowed and her chestnut hair a mess. She came to a halting stop just before she almost crashed into Elliot; and Emma glared at him, and then over her shoulder; till returning her gaze to her brother once more. "What are you doing?" she whispered hoarsely, trying to keep her voice down for Lina's sake.

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    House Beaumarche Elliot Beaumarche's Avatar  
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    Elliot thought maybe he had caught himself a break; but then the sound of scrambling feet from just inside the parlor came skittering across the floor -- and suddenly Emma was at the mouth of the short entrance hall, her pretty face glowering; her chestnut hair in disarray.

    What are you doing? she seethed, and Elliot gave her a momentarily blank look, surprised to see her there, still fully dressed in her eveningwear; and then he straightened up, his own expression darkening. The words poured out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "Dastan De Angelis is an ass. A unbecoming lout. I don't know what's going on here, but I don't like it," was all he said in reply, his deep voice catching; the natural authority returning to Elliot Beaumarche as he straightened up, glaring at his sister; before he moved forward, roughly brushing past her.

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    House Beaumarche Emma Beaumarche's Avatar  
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    Elliot regarded Emma only momentarily, a surprised expression on his face; his eyebrows lifted, lips parted as if to speak, or perhaps even apologize -- but then a shadow fell across his face and suddenly he was angry, the shift so sudden it made Emma blink in surprise, herself. This was the Elliot she knew, whose temper resided deep inside him and yet was fearsome when it arose -- a true man of the Valley.

    Dastan De Angelis is an ass. A unbecoming lout. I don't know what's going on here, but I don't like it.

    Without another growled word, Elliot moved forward and roughly brushed past her; Emma's fingers reaching out to touch her brother's shoulder but missing as he moved beyond her and into the parlor. There was a single candle lit, but he moved to strike another match and catch another, further illuminating the small chamber. For a moment, Emma did nothing, dumbfounded by this abrupt outburst; and then she turned and made to follow her brother into the parlor.

    "I take it... the evening did not go as well as you hoped?" was all she offered, no hint of mockery in her words as she watched Elliot's back move about the room; her brow knitting together in concern.
    Last edited by Emma Beaumarche; 04-09-2014 at 02:35 PM.

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    House Beaumarche Elliot Beaumarche's Avatar  
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    I take it... the evening did not go as well as you hoped?

    Emma's voice trailed after Elliot, as did her presence, as the older sibling stormed his way into the parlor; the Beaumarche lord reaching for the decanter of brandy left on the tea-side table. His fingers flexed over the glass container, reaching for it, unthinking; before he paused, and then straightened his back. Elliot Beaumarche was not truly a drinking man -- and he certainly wasn't going to start at the behest of the alcohol provided in Welch Run.

    Instead, he turned back to face Emma, his eyes dark and narrowed, instinctively moving to crack his knuckles again the palm of the opposite hand. Talking openly with Emma had never been a problem for Elliot; for longer than he could remember, now, they had worked as team. She was less of his little sister and more of a partner. He moved to run one hand over his ruffled hair, perturbed. "I don't even know what we are doing here. Trying to talk to that De Angelis man is like talking to a brick wall -- but perhaps I'd receive more gentility from stone and mortar. He is a complete upstart --" Elliot rambled on, his normally controlled voice now deep and gruff. He began to pace while he spoke, and Emma merely lingered in the doorway, her hip pressed against the frame as she watched her brother move. He paused then to point a finger in her direction. "And did you know they keep some of the Peregrine women here? For what purpose, hm? Something unsavory, I am sure of it --" he continued on, angry and irritated.

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    House Beaumarche Emma Beaumarche's Avatar  
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    As Elliot stalked about the room, clearly unable to recognize the noise he was making, Emma merely watched; her hip pressed against the doorframe to the entrance hall, her arms wrapped lightly around her torso as her brother raged. She rarely saw him like this, so she knew to take it seriously when he found reason to even speak to her about the matter at hand. Elliot was a serious but simple man, who kept most things bottled inside, good or bad; he required very little from those around him -- honesty, loyalty, respect. And when he felt like any of those factors fell to the wayside, he became perturbed, and altogether disenchanted; by the nature of man, by the position they held. Emma, it seemed, had emerged from their trials hardened in more ways than she herself expected; and having to face the breakdown of their family and the responsibility on her shoulders to keep the trade of the city alive, had lent her an understanding that most people in fact were not good and kind, but rather had to be dealt with regardless.

    She kept silent as Elliot rattled off his apparently growing irritation with Dastan De Angelis; and she merely nodded, her expression slightly concerned as he continued on.

    "I know very little about the Peregrine girls. I think they have been kept relatively hidden away for the time being," was all Emma interjected at first, her voice soft. She knew, vaguely, of their unsavory situation; but some whispers were darker than others, and Emma, although trying to reserve judgment, had her unsettling concerns. She shifted her weight slightly from one hip to another; pausing, waiting for the right moment to speak up again, if there even was one.

    "Do you... not want to do business with him then, Elliot? Because -- and I hate to say it, but it is true -- that is one of the few reasons we even risked coming..." Emma continued, her voice gentle. She knew he knew this; and he would hate it. But he had to be reminded, even if it was painful -- what it was all for.

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    House Beaumarche Elliot Beaumarche's Avatar  
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    Elliot knew he was roiling in an unexpected manner, and that perhaps he was alarming his sister; but he could not stop, and thankfully, Emma did nothing to dissuade him out of this foul mood. He simply had to -- get it out.

    Do you... not want to do business with him then, Elliot? Because -- and I hate to say it, but it is true -- that is one of the few reasons we even risked coming...

    The Beaumarche lord stopped his pacing only momentarily to fling a widened hand in his sister's gesture. "Don't you think I know that? That I've wasted all this precious time coming down here, willing, Ruzbin only knows why, to wager a deal with this damned -- usurper!" He picked up his agitated pacing once again, and Emma still did nothing, standing in the doorway, following his trajectory with her green eyes. He lifted one hand to his unkempt hair, raking his palm across, once, and then twice. Elliot almost never got this upset, over anything; so it was hard for him to control when it actually flowered up. " -- What do you think? You're a good judge of character, Em. Is this arse even worth the risk? What do they possibly have that we need?" Elliot's voice shot back towards Emma once more, agitated and yet imploring; his gaze still focused on the floor, not even looking towards her.

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    House Beaumarche Emma Beaumarche's Avatar  
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    Don't you think I know that? That I've wasted all this precious time coming down here, willing, Ruzbin only knows why, to wager a deal with this damned -- usurper!

    His reaction was loud, and venomous; but Emma didn't expect anything different from her brother in his current state, and as such she did not react, merely letting herself be the shore upon which his turbulent waves would to break.

    -- What do you think? You're a good judge of character, Em. Is this arse even worth the risk? What do they possibly have that we need?

    He had paused in his pacing then, but was still raking his fingers through his short hair; not even looking at her. Emma couldn't tell if Elliot was really asking her opinion, or would even bother listening to what she said, in the mood he was in; but she picked her words carefully nonetheless, still leaning against the doorframe, trying to be the calm one of the two of them. "... Well. I haven't spoken with him personally yet. I would need to do that to pass proper judgement," Emma said truthfully, her words moving out slowly, testing the weight on them on Elliot's mind. "But they do have a great deal of natural resources that we can't get in the Valley." A pause. "And there is reason to believe they are willing to aim low in pricing simply to have our business." Another pause. "So it might be worth... entertaining..."

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