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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 6, 2007 17:32:51 GMT -5
"Well it will all be delt with in time, you'll understand everything." Olaf tried, laying his head in her lap, on top of her magazine.
"Get off me." she said, cold.
"Awe. you're always such a bad sport." Olaf said pulling on the edge of her nightie.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 8, 2007 6:29:40 GMT -5
She shifted away, pushing him back. She ended up on one edge of the bed, him on the other.
'If you'd tell me things once in a while I might have a slightly better temperament in future.'
She sulked, folding her ams and laying her magazine down on the floor, where it was practically carried off by ants as soon as it touched down.
He scooted along so that he was next to her again.
'I'm telling you everything I can, pet.'
She glared at him suddenly. 'Everything you can? Or everything you will?'
'There's a difference?'
'Don't pretend you don't understand what I mean, Olaf.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 9, 2007 19:42:12 GMT -5
"I will tell you everything you should know." Olaf promised. It was a sentence that worked for both of them. Olaf kissed her shoulder. "I love you." He added.
She smiled. Olaf had already started working her into trust. Every sweet nothing whispered lulled her into him.
He pulled her back to the center of the bed and held her there where she fell asleep, in his warmth, for lack of blankets.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 13, 2007 12:12:11 GMT -5
It was cold the next morning, and she woke up shivering and wishing for the warmth of her duvets and blankets and pillows, Olaf off to his side of the bed snoring loudly.
She knew that money couldn't buy love-- or had been told it, at least-- but she wasn't sure, entirely, if love could exist in absence of money. Looking around it was clear Olaf didn't have much money-- no matter his plans to acquire some--and he didn't really seem to have much of a steady job. She could just picture what her father's face would have looked like if e could have seen her. He would have been outraged.
She shook the picture out of her head, and got up, leaving Olaf to sleep on his own. Breakfast was going to be pancakes, if she could find any...
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 14, 2007 13:01:00 GMT -5
To Esme's delight there was an old dusty box in the back of the cupboard. She blew the dust off it and read the best before date. It was a week over...but it wouldn't kill them.
There was enough of everything else to make them and by the time Olaf got down stairs there was four pancakes sitting on his plate and Esme was just buttering hers.
"Are they edible?" Was his first question.
"I'm not that bad of a cook!" she prtested, taking the syrup and drenching them.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 14, 2007 16:27:18 GMT -5
'I should hope you ARE,' he said in reply. 'Otherwise I wouldn't have to pay the Albanian girl.'
She quickly took it back. 'Oh, yes. That is the case. I can't cook. At all.'
'Good,' he said, wolfing down his pancakes greedily.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 20, 2007 19:23:52 GMT -5
Esme eventually ahnded over what was left of her pancakes after she was finished with part of them. She left him with his food and went to pick out clothing. She choose a white skirt and blue top.
She came down stairs and found him outside at what she guessed was a tool shed. "I have paint." He informed.
"I'm sure you do."
"what colour do you want your room?" He asked.
"Turquiose...or maybe a topaz...."
"How about brown....or grey?"
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Post by Jenny on Jul 22, 2007 13:52:29 GMT -5
(Sorry about not posting for like ever! It's a really busy time, but I'll be on loads after wednesday.)
She came up behind him quickly. 'If that's all you've got I may as well just leave it,' she complained.
He stood up. 'Alright then, that's fine! We'll not worry about it, then--'
She hit him on the shoulder. 'No. Get back in there. I'm sure you must have some colour.'
It took him a while before he triumphantly held up an old tub of paint.
'Look!' he cried. She was laughing already--from his messy shed he'd ended up with black streaked all over his face and some of it turning his hair brown, fluff floating ominously on his forehead. 'Yellow!'
'What kind of yellow?'
He shrugged. 'Who cares? Yellow is yellow.'
'To you, maybe,' she grabbed the paint off him and prised open the lid with some tool he'd handed her. She pulled a face. 'It's...like green.' she said.
He folded her arms. 'The box says yellow.'
'Well it's so old it may have oxidized and changed colour.'
He shook his head. 'It's that or brown.'
She was about to reply when he caught sight of the grey fluff in front of his eyes and jumped about three feet in the air and started blabbering about a fear of spiders, running off in various directions.
'You are such a child.' she laughed when he stopped and pretended to be cool.
'Am not. I'm twenty years older than you.'
'I wouldn't be that scared if a spider was on MY face.'
He grabbed her. 'We'll see!'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 22, 2007 20:27:16 GMT -5
She screamed, only because she didn't like things that crawled being put on her. there was a chance of it going down her top or otherwise, and the thought of all those little legs on her skin made her freak out.
"Okay! I give! No!" She screamed, it was high pitched and hard to listen to, so Olaf put her down.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 23, 2007 15:52:43 GMT -5
'I don't scream and jump about as much as you!' she taunted as he dragged her back into the house and planted the pint on the table for her.
'Well, your scream is more irritating than mine.' he replied harshly, fetching himself a drink.
'Thank you, dear,' she joked, stealing it from him after he'd taken a few gulps.
'Yakatathing is going to be here for an interview today,' he reminded her after a few moments. She grinned.
'I'll interview her. I have to check on how pretty she is before I'll let her work here.' she laughed, but she was almost serious. She wasn't going to be outdone frequently by her maid.
Olaf grinned, trying to mess with her hair before she slapped his hand away jokingly and smoothed the blonde curl back into place.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 23, 2007 16:40:37 GMT -5
Esme picked out a good interviewing outfit. She was wearing a blouse and skirt that were intimidating, but she left open an extra button just to make it more sexy than whatever Yaky was going to be wearing.
she answered the door and immediately realized her mistake. Yaky was dressed in a very old Grey dress and it was almost wearing through. The girl was dirty and messy and not the slightest bit attractive.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 24, 2007 15:12:54 GMT -5
From the seat in a corner of the room when they walked back in, Olaf was grinning hugely and shaking slightly from laughter. Esme threw a notebook at him randomly, making Yakatawhatever look a little confused and sit down politely, averting her eyes.
'Hello.' said Esme, half-polite, half-unhappy.
'Hello. I'm the person you spoke to on the phone.' Olaf offerred. She didn't understand-- it was obvious--but nodded anyway and smiled slightly. Esme sighed heavily. She hated her already (but was pleased she was so ugly anyway, so that she wouldn't have to worry about outdoing her every morning).
'Start on Monday?' Olaf clarified impatiently, cutting Yakata off in the middle of a sentence.
'Yes.'
'Good.'
There was a long awkward silence after that between the three of them, before Esmé thought of something to ask.
'What exactly is your name?'
Yakata considered for a moment, opening her mouth and considering how to sound most English in her answer.
'Mary.'
Olaf burst out laughing immediately, recieving another glare from the teenager sitting with his new maid.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 24, 2007 20:39:33 GMT -5
"Mary..." Esme said it as if it were a secret word that would make her change into something extraordinarily pretty. Esme took out her white handkerchief and whipped and Mary's face, determined to find that which would make Olaf love her.
She found nothing but a nice colored skin and a relatively nice shaped nose. Esme tried to make eye contact to see if her eyes were pretty but could get the girl to look up.
"Cook. Clean. Serve." Olaf simplified.
"Yes. Wiv Pleser." she sounded out.
"Smashing." Esme grinned.
"Pleez no...." Mary whimpered.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 25, 2007 15:11:11 GMT -5
Olaf was laughing quietly to himself again as Esmé tried to reassure Mary that she didn't intend to smash anything or throw anything that could smash at her during her time there, offering friendly smiles and nice gestures all the time. Olaf, of course, quickly bored of the chat and wandered off to get hismelf a glass of wine.
'It's not even midday,' Esmé said immediately as he sat down again, Mary looking slightly more comfortable after all the younger girl's efforts to make her feel welcome.
'So?' Olaf demanded, almost downing the entire glass in one gulp. She just rolled her eyes and stood up slowly so as not to frighten Mary.
'She isn't a frightened rat.'
'No zir. Not a rrat.'
Olaf grinned again happily. He could insult her constantly, and all she would do is smile politely? Fantastic! It was going to be great having this one around. His previous maid was not a sucess in the slightest--an English girl from college who'd hated him and who he'd eventually locked in a cupboard accidentally for a whole day. She left in a hurry after that, and he heard nothing else about it after that.
Esmé helped Mary to her feet, and shook her hand very, very softly so as to seem very gentle.
'I'll see you on Monday.' she said kindly.
Olaf looked back from his chair. 'Yes. I'll introduce you to the airing cupboard.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 25, 2007 16:01:57 GMT -5
"He he....what a joker." Esme tried, ingenue, and closing the door.
"Well....at least she has good ankles." Olaf said.
"You like ankles?" Esme asked, putting her foot up on the table and twisting it attractively.
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