Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Sept 26, 2014 6:55:32 GMT
"I believe that truth has only one face: that of a violent contradiction.”
― Georges Bataille
Caitlin resorted to tried and true tactics from her youth. She stayed abed and feigned sickness. She refused to wash her hair, she claimed she couldn't go out because she had to wash her hair. She fussed about having nothing decent to wear. She claimed to be lightheaded and sickly - again - and when all else failed she sent the maid out of her room to fetch some shoes, and locked the door promptly behind her. Caitlin was officially 10 years old again, and rebelling against her father.
"Cait, you will open this door..." she could hear the barons voice through the barrier. She sat on her bed, swinging her feet to and fro and starring at the lock keeping them out and her in. She could climb out the window and escape, but by now they'd expect her to do that and be waiting in the garden below. Someone was probably already there now waiting for her to try.
"I don't see why I have to humor Leslie Morgan, the Morgan's fell out of favor when-"
"Mind your manners, miss Cockfoster," oh boy, he was using titles now, he must be mad. "You are in no position to judge another lords well being, given your reputation." He sighed and she bit her bottom lip to keep from snapping back. He was right, and she did have a questionable reputation given the events following the Baron's last masquerade. It had been what - a year almost? And she'd played her part to the letter ever since returning to high society. Any doubt of her moral character had been erased by a show of good faith, good grace, and teeth pulling good behavior on her part. She'd even started wearing a disguise on the docks for some time to keep any rumors at bay about her "love sick longing" for some mysterious pirate which stole her heart -yadda yadda back when she was "kidnapped".
"That doesn't sound very fair," she rebuked lamely. He didn't say anything for a moment and she got off her bed, tip-toeing to the door. She pressed her ear against the grain, and when she heard nothing, she quietly untwist the lock. It clicked and she pulled open the door a peek. Caity yelped as the door was pushed open and her father stuck his foot in to keep her from slamming it back shut. She was a little ashamed at the urge to do so, mostly because a girl her age shouldn't, but she couldn't help wanting to.
"It's not about what's fair anymore," the baron said with all the diplomacy he could muster, which, given who he was - it was quite impressive. "It's about what's best. Now enough with this foolishness. Get ready, and when the Morgan's arrive put your best foot forward. You two will have a successful evening, if it kills you."
― Georges Bataille
Caitlin resorted to tried and true tactics from her youth. She stayed abed and feigned sickness. She refused to wash her hair, she claimed she couldn't go out because she had to wash her hair. She fussed about having nothing decent to wear. She claimed to be lightheaded and sickly - again - and when all else failed she sent the maid out of her room to fetch some shoes, and locked the door promptly behind her. Caitlin was officially 10 years old again, and rebelling against her father.
"Cait, you will open this door..." she could hear the barons voice through the barrier. She sat on her bed, swinging her feet to and fro and starring at the lock keeping them out and her in. She could climb out the window and escape, but by now they'd expect her to do that and be waiting in the garden below. Someone was probably already there now waiting for her to try.
"I don't see why I have to humor Leslie Morgan, the Morgan's fell out of favor when-"
"Mind your manners, miss Cockfoster," oh boy, he was using titles now, he must be mad. "You are in no position to judge another lords well being, given your reputation." He sighed and she bit her bottom lip to keep from snapping back. He was right, and she did have a questionable reputation given the events following the Baron's last masquerade. It had been what - a year almost? And she'd played her part to the letter ever since returning to high society. Any doubt of her moral character had been erased by a show of good faith, good grace, and teeth pulling good behavior on her part. She'd even started wearing a disguise on the docks for some time to keep any rumors at bay about her "love sick longing" for some mysterious pirate which stole her heart -yadda yadda back when she was "kidnapped".
"That doesn't sound very fair," she rebuked lamely. He didn't say anything for a moment and she got off her bed, tip-toeing to the door. She pressed her ear against the grain, and when she heard nothing, she quietly untwist the lock. It clicked and she pulled open the door a peek. Caity yelped as the door was pushed open and her father stuck his foot in to keep her from slamming it back shut. She was a little ashamed at the urge to do so, mostly because a girl her age shouldn't, but she couldn't help wanting to.
"It's not about what's fair anymore," the baron said with all the diplomacy he could muster, which, given who he was - it was quite impressive. "It's about what's best. Now enough with this foolishness. Get ready, and when the Morgan's arrive put your best foot forward. You two will have a successful evening, if it kills you."