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| a look into the night - continued; tag Madeleine | |
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| Topic Started: Tuesday, 22. July 2008, 18:34 (88 Views) | |
| Kerri Phillips | Tuesday, 22. July 2008, 18:34 Post #1 |
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Childe
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She grinned disarmingly and nodded. "I think that sounds a fine idea on both fronts Madeleine...I has been some years since I have shopped in Paris and I can assure you money is no issue." She picked up her bag which contained a large roll of euro notes, the obscure and still alien currency that was now used throughout most of Europe. It had certainly made life easy when she had organised her cash knowing that if she had to dive from the country quickly she would still be financially solvent without having to disclose her location through transactions. Not that it would be easy by any stretch of the imagination to find her through the proxy accounts and dummy companies and solicitors that she had become accustomed to using. There was probably only one kindred in the world who had even the vaguest idea of how she funneled her money across any border and he was in London blissfully unaware of how close she was to him. The walk in the night was balmy and she did not trouble herself to speak leaving the air between them relaxed so if her new companion chose she could ellaborate on anything or speak of anything should she wish. Soon enough they arrived at the largest of the late night shopping precincts. Most of the stores remained open past ten and there seemed a wide array of choice for them. This needed to be a step away from her comfort zone so she steadfastly ignored the usual truly casual stores glancing more to the designers and tailored delights that they had to offer. "So Madeleine what would you suggest first? Evening attire? Perhaps something of a smart but casual affair? What you see me standing in is pretty much what I own now so I need everything." She smiled as she thought of some of her favoured outfits rolled up in her backpack back at what she would loosely call an apartment. "My only request is that we find a nice leather coat, I miss mine and think that it is certainly time to replace it." The caterpillar was about to transform into a butterfly and she had already decided on the journey that a change in style would also include a change in hair. The syle would be impossible to do anything with, the unruly curls hid the animalistic ears she had aquired in her latest frenzy some months before but colour would change like flowing water....perhaps black she though idly as she waited for Madeleine to start them on their rollercoaster trip of shopping and makeover. |
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| Madeleine Bourignon | Wednesday, 23. July 2008, 17:52 Post #2 |
Childe
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Madeleine was glad to hear that she wouldn't be expected to pay. Although she may have given the impression of being a wealthy heiress of a fortunate family, Madeleine earned her money through her singing, and was, to be honest, not the most generous of women. However, judging by Jemima's down-to-earth personality, Madeleine doubted she would accept it even if she had offered to buy her some new outfits. Although you could shop pretty much anywhere in Paris, Jemima suggested the 1st Arrondissement; usually full of tourists and souvenir stores. However, Madeleine said nothing, simply nodding. She supposed Jemima knew the sort of shop she wanted to visit, and therefore decided to follow along. Whilst walking, Madeleine's new acquaintance said nothing. It was not an awkward silence, however, as the sights and sounds of Paris were anything to her but uncomfortable. Jemima seemed involved in her own thoughts, so the Daughter decided not to bother her. She did, however, resume sweetly humming the song from the opera of that night, which she still had stuck in her head. Madeleine noticed that Jemima passed all the non-designer stores as they entered the shopping district. This amused her. The Gangrel was trying to put on an act. Well then, I guess we'll both play along to the other's supposed expectations. She thought to herself. Looking at Jemima, she wondered why she was trying to change her look. It was entirely possible that she could be in trouble in the Kindred world. There was a bloodhunt out for a girl called Kalhan Mali, but such an exotic name would very unlikely be that of this English woman standing beside her. If there were any other wanted Kindred here in Paris, Malloy certainly hadn't made it well known. Of course, there were also the possibilities of being an outcast of the Sabbat or Anarchs, neither of which Madeleine knew the politics. It hadn't occurred to her until that moment that Jemima could well be of Sabbat or Anarch origins. This could very likely get Madeleine in trouble. However, although she had heard of the Prince to be quite the opposite of an understanding man (never having known him enough to judge for herself), she figured if she was fraternising with the supposed enemy, she could always pull out the ignorance card. How was she to know Jemima was of an opposing sect? Of course, there was also the complete opposite of possibilities; that Jemima was, truthfully, just after some new clothes that would help her blend into the fashionable French nightlife. Whatever the case, Madeleine was having fun. Spotting a Dior store, Madeleine nearly skipped over; or would have, were she not wearing heeled boots. Beckoning to Jemima to follow, she felt like a kid with a fistful of cash in a candy-store. Standing by the door after Jemima had closed it behind her, she placed her hands on her hips. "So then, smart and casual, you said? Well, let's see." She pointed over to the half of the store labeled "Femme." "You'll want some outfits to wear in everyday circumstances, preferrably not too loud. There's some lovely two-pieces over there, though not too many with trousers. Over there, theres some not-too-formal dresses, and just here is catwalk material, for if you're feeling brave and your pockets aren't light enough." She looked around to the jewellery counter. "There's also some frosting over there, but I think you'll just need some sunglasses. Some of the diamonds there are even too La-di-da for me." She turned back to Kerri. "Do you need some help, or would you rather do your own thing here? I don't want to make you dress uncomfortably." She asked. She didn't want her to dress her up like she would a doll, or dump clothes on her arms like they were going out for a dollar a dress. It was just a little too Toreador, and she didn't usually get carried away like that. "I'll ask the shop assistant to see about leather coats." She smiled. |
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| Kerri Phillips | Thursday, 24. July 2008, 23:59 Post #3 |
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Childe
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She nodded immediately distracted by the array of materials and colours. The choice was vast and somewhat overwhelming but she immediately made her way over to the day wear with an occasional glance at her new companion. The harsh light of the store made her scarring obvious leaving her feeling uncomfortable and more and more certain that she had made a mistake in this plan. She had knowledge enough to be able to sneak into this place when it was closed and she began to wonder if being indoors in the artificial light instead of outside in the cool moonlight was the right place for her to be. Hiding behind one of the racks she dismissed the assistant who moved towards her with a wave of her hand and a muttering of if she needed help she would ask for it. Her appearance raised their eyebrows even as she kept her face from them, her clothing was enough to offer question as to her presence there. Then there was her companion, now they were in such improved light, her appearance, her demeanour they all screamed Toreador and with their conventionality quite probably Camarilla. Her desperation for contact had her forget herself she realised in a split second. What in god’s name was she doing?? This girl knew what she looked like now, knew she was in the city and even if she didn’t have specifics it was enough to show that she was not hiding but being an idiot. What was the point in changing her appearance if someone from the very sect that she was trying to keep a low profile from knew what she had purchased, knew what style she had adopted. She couldn’t tell for certain what sect Madeleine belonged to but looking at her as she spoke to the cashier she had her very certain suspicions. A quick scan of the shop had her gauge the location of the exit to Madeleine. The probable Toreador was to the opposite end of the shop, Kerri to the side and closer to the exit. As she mentally calculated her departure she began to examine clothing closer and closer to the exit until with one final look up to ensure that the kindred was not looking in her direction she bolted. Cursing her stupidity with each hastened step she dived around the corner without a backwards glance knowing that she had put herself at risk with her actions tonight. Clothing would wait but certainly not to be collected from Dior, that was an idea she had and that would mean it could be the clothing she described as her attempting to use…well if she made the connection or any search for her was broadcast. She needed to get away and more importantly she needed to get to comfortable ground. With that she spun on her heel and with her head down made her way to the exit and began heading in the direction of the university. Books would comfort her, books would offer the sanctuary that she desperately needed. Madeleine had to remain a brief meeting even if she did kind of like the stuck up kindred…ah Torries can’t live with them and can’t kill them just gotta love ‘em she thought as she slipped into the night. |
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| Madeleine Bourignon | Friday, 25. July 2008, 19:17 Post #4 |
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Childe
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"Jemima, she said there's no leather coats here without fur trims, but down the street, there's..." Madeleine looked around. Jemima had gone. She turned to another customer. "The wild looking girl, did you see where she went?" She asked, making a gesture to suggest big hair. The other customer shook her head. Tourist. Madeleine repeated in English, and the tourist girl nodded, pointing out the door and explaining she just took off running. How strange. Madeleine thought. Why would she have just hurried off like that? Maybe her suspicions were correct. Maybe she was Kalhan Mali, and realised Madeleine was a Cammy. Maybe she had seen someone she was in trouble with and just couldn't risk it. A slightly more humorous possibility was that she was just terrified of shopping at Dior. Who wouldn't be, with those prices? The siren shook her head lightly, before leaving the shop. She checked her watch; 10:39. There was a wonderful performance at the Rouge tonight. One of her favourite Kine songstresses was performing at eleven. She looked around for a means of transportation, before spotting and hailing a taxi. If Jemima (if that was her real name) didn't want company this night, Madeleine would have her fun and meal alone. "To the Moulin Rouge, Monsieur. Make it fast please." (ooc: will continue madeleine's night in the Moulin Rouge later on.) |
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