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Old 06-23-2009 at 04:54 PM
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170 Rue Mazarine: Madeleine de Chandon's Apartment  Post [1] »


Username: Mrs. Nadir Khan
Character name: Madeleine de Chandon
Character age: 32
Desired apartment: Madeleine’s apartment is on the Rue Mazarine in Saint-Germain des Prés, the most desirable living area in all Paris. It’s small, but lively. The general style of the interior is luxurious, with original French art, elegant and refined, from the overall design scheme down to the very smallest details. The furnishings are high-quality throughout, successfully mixing clean-lined modernity with more soulful classicism and original art. The oaken floors and exposed beams give it a unique look and the view is lovely—the perfect view of Parisian life. An open and elegant kitchen with exotic wood and a stone countertop is fully equipped with all the modern conveniences: microwave/convection oven, washer/dryer combi dishwasher, large refrigerator, separate freezer, and induction stove top.
A commodious computer desk area with Compaq PC, high-speed wi-fi connection and a flat screen TV with over 100 free cable and radio channels and free calls to the U.S will keep you connected to the outside world while you enjoy the inside comforts of this luxury residence. The classy Roche et Bobois leather sofa in the living room also converts into a high-quality queen bed.
The separate bedroom, designed with a green-tea organic feel, invites you to unwind. A window opening to the interior courtyard, ensures you quiet and a good night's sleep. With artistic curtain sheers throughout, floor and vertical window lighting, the bedroom seems to float on a layer of light making it a true romantic nest. The bed is furnished with 400 thread count linens, European down duvets and pillows. A large closet provide ample storage.
The bathroom is contemporary and sophisticated and has a generously sized stone shower with a built-in ceramic seat, large showerhead/fountain shower and heated towel rack.

Yet, for all its sophisticated charm, the apartment, it is, much like much of Madeleine’s life, part of the appearances she’s trying to upkeep. It was paid for by Madeleine’s earnings from the Rouge and—since leaving for the Populaire—has been entirely redecorated.

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Name: Cassie | Gender: Señorita | Posts: 4,083 | Roses: 185
Old 06-24-2009 at 07:26 AM
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Madeleine de Chandon

Morning came too soon. It always did, in Madeleine’s opinion, after a wild night. Or after any night that involved any combination of drinking and sex. The sun was blinding through her bedroom window and Madeleine made it a point to draw the curtains. The night had been hot in more ways than one and the open window had provided some cool recourse for the rising temperatures. Ohhh… That was better. Yes, it was darker in the bedroom. Madeleine sighed and leaned against a wall before looking back at the bed. What little sunlight trickled in bounced off the walls and cast an eerie green glow upon the naked woman lying in Madeleine’s bed. Naked woman? Oh, yeah… Maureen. She smirked, grinned, even, at the memories of last night. From the meet-‘n’-greet in Le Cat Corner to the apex of their rendezvous last night. Mmm… It had been good and yet, now, the morning after, Madeleine felt this annoying and familiar emptiness gnawing at her. Gah.

She stumbled into her closet and threw on the first thing she could find. A big t-shirt that probably belonged to Myron (she hoped it didn’t belong to anyone else… Otherwise she’d feel a little guilty about not returning it) and skinny jeans. She tossed her messy hair up into a bun without brushing it and walked into the kitchen.

Damn, it was bright in here. Madeleine groaned and realized she probably had a hangover. Well. If the empty wine bottles on her kitchen table didn’t say she did, then it was probably that third cocktail back at Le Cat Corner that did her in. She rubbed sleep from her eyes and pulled the curtains in the dining room closed, too. Better.

And immediately she began whipping up some strong coffee. It was probably the best and only remedy for a hangover. Well, other than a whole bottle of aspirin. But Madeleine didn’t exactly feel like passing out a la drug overdose today. She had other plans, thanks. Besides, her latest conquest was still here and if there wasn’t coffee, there would only be awkward silence. And Madeleine liked the idea of an awkward silence even less than that of a drug overdose.

She stood beside the counter, watching as her coffee brewed and hugged her arms around herself as she waited. Yep. The shirt had to be Myron’s. It kinda smelled like him. And she smelled like Maureen. It was a weird combination… One that she didn’t exactly find that comforting. For starters, Myron had called her a tramp. And having just slept with Maureen, she was only succeeding in proving him right. It was like he was in the kitchen with her, smirking at her that infernal smirk of I-told-you-so. God, that would be so like him.

She shuddered and debated taking off the shirt altogether. Hell, she could stuff it down the garbage disposal. But then she’d have to call the super. And saying, “I stuck my ex-lover’s shirt in the garbage disposal after having a one-night stand with another woman” didn’t exactly sound like a great conversation starter. Okay, it did. But only if she was really horny or something. And she was more irritated with herself than anything right now.

Tramp. She was a tramp. A whore. A slut. She’d slept with the first attractive person she found in a nightclub. Degrading. Disgusting. Yuck. ****. She really, really didn’t like herself this morning.

But then, that could just be the migraine talking.

She groaned again and opened up the refrigerator and got out some eggs. A quick and easy fix (not unlike last night) before saying goodbye to Maureen quite possibly forever. Yes. She wouldn’t see her ever again. Ever. And no one at the opera house had to know about their fling. After all, it wasn’t like Maureen even worked at the opera house, right? Right. Madeleine had decided that early on last night and she could only hope she wasn’t wrong.

Madeleine pulled out a skillet and buttered it before scrambling the eggs. When Maureen woke, she’d be sure to occupy herself with some other activity and hopefully encourage the other woman to show herself out.

Last night had been a blast, but Madeleine felt sick to her stomach. So much for a new start, right?
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Old 06-24-2009 at 08:44 AM
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Maureen Dawson

Maureen awoke with a start, sitting straight up and clutching at whatever she could which happened to be a pillow. In the next moment, she quickly dropped it and proceeded to pull the blanket over her naked body, startled as to why she was naked to begin with. ****. Just calm down and think. She allowed her mind to fully wake, breathing in deep and letting out to relax herself. It was then that she remembered where she was and with who she had been with and she completely relaxed, being well rehearsed in these situations. A smile crossed her face at the thought of the night before. It wasn't really even something to smile about besides the fact that the sex had been...amazing. To call out exactly what had happened, she had went into a club and hooked up with someone in five minutes, took them to a quieter place within twenty, and spent the night with them by the time it was over. It did indeed sound quite whorish but it was the way she had always been. As she had told Alexander once, she didn't plan on changing anything. She enjoyed sex and if she was single, she'd nine times out of ten find someone to get it from, even if it was a different person all nine of those ten times.

She attempted to stretch, moaning slightly at several aches that shot through her body. She could only figure that the alcohol had dulled exactly how rough they had been for now that the alcohol was gone, she was sore nearly everywhere. She fell back down flat against the bed, attempting to keep as still as possible to prevent it from hurting even though she knew eventually- very soon -she'd have to get up and find Madeleine. As the woman's name crossed her mind, she heard a clank in the kitchen and was at least relieved that the woman hadn't left the premises. The question was, how to approach the inevitable situation on the other side of the door. She could walk out, give a simple hello, a thanks that was great, and a goodbye and leave it at that but as it was with all of Maureen's one night stands, she had at least talked a little bit with the other person, usually before and a little after, and she realized that the only thing she knew about Madeleine was her name. She glanced at the clock on the wall, relieved that she hadn't woke up too awfully late. She had no where to be and she thought that she made good company on most occasions and so she decided to make the best of the situation and attempt to strike up a conversation.

Finally convincing herself to move, she extricated herself from the bed, realizing quickly that the clothes she did have werent appropriate at all for much of anything, much less walking out into the middle of a Parisian day. She decided that she would ask for at least a t-shirt before leaving the apartment. In the meantime, she settled for slipping back on her matching bra and underwear, searching desperately for the see through shirt she'd had on as well but not seeing it anywhere. She checked the whole room over with no luck and decided that it must have been discarded as soon as they'd arrived behind closed doors and that it was somewhere else in the apartment. Well, this will be interesting. Dressed in only her undergarments because they were the only articles of clothing she could find, and she didn't want to invade the woman's privacy by going in her closet, Maureen decided she'd have to walk out in what she had on. Really though, that wasn't a big deal, she'd slept with Madeleine so it wasn't like she hadn't seen everything already. The smell of coffee filled the air and she realized that even though she didn't like coffee, it sounded oddly amazing. She caught sight of her head in a mirror and she tried to smooth it out but it still looked fairly tousled and like she had been doing exactly what had happened. She shrugged, proceeding to walk down the small hallway towards the smell of the coffee and where she was fairly sure Madeleine was.

Maureen, despite the fact that it was a one night stand, shuttered when she finally saw Madeleine again, partially from the memories of last night that were and would be fresh in her mind for at least a few days and partially from the desire to experience it all again. And Madeleine, though still dressed sloppily, looked way more appropriate than Maureen felt and looked at the moment. Well, there wasn't much she could do about it. Having Madeleine's back to her did have its advantages and she took the moment to scan the room for her shirt. She almost groaned outloud when she found where it was, thrown carelessly on the counter a few feet away from Madeleine who was obviously oblivious to it's presence. Very interesting indeed. She walked closer to Madeleine, as to alert her of her presence. Once she was within arms reach, she cleared her throat, chuckling a little, "Well then, I can't say I've ever woken up from an escapade like last night and had to walk out as I am right now only to find my shirt discarded on the counter" and she nodded her head at the shirt that was on the other side of Madeleine. "....I don't remember that..." and she reached around the woman, brushing her hand lightly against the woman's back as she passed by to grab the see through shirt, slipping it on and over her exposed body. It still didn't do much but it was better than walking around in her bra and underwear. She turned her back to the counter, leaning against it on her arms, a friendly yet teasing smile on her face, "So, I trust you slept well?"


I just wanna be alone now with the dark and the light. That's my favorite color blue there

As the sun sets in the sky, there's just something in the hue there in the corner of my eye
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Old 06-24-2009 at 05:20 PM
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Madeleine de Chandon

The sizzling eggs smelled really good. Madeleine hadn’t known she was hungry until she started cooking and she felt this sharp pain in her stomach. Well, at least there were some things in the world she could take care of. A little salt. A little pepper. Voila, a gourmet meal! And then she started staring at her coffee maker again, watching the nearly-black liquid seep through into the carafe. She must have been really worn out from the night before if she found that entertaining.

And then Madeleine heard a voice that was far too loud and familiar from behind her.

"Well then, I can't say I've ever woken up from an escapade like last night and had to walk out as I am right now only to find my shirt discarded on the counter" and she nodded her head at the shirt that was on the other side of Madeleine. "....I don't remember that..."

“Huh?” Madeleine followed her gaze. Maureen’s see through shirt was on the counter. Then, sheepishly chuckled, “Ohhhh… I do.”

They’d started out in the kitchen, with Madeleine pushing Maureen up onto the counter and leaning her back as far as she dared, trailing vicious tongue-and-teeth kisses down her neck until that shirt had gotten in her way…

She really was a tramp, wasn’t she? Couldn’t have even waited until they hit the bedroom. Madeleine reached into the sink, pulled out a wet and soapy rag and began scrubbing the area when she felt a hand brush her lightly on the back. The rag fell onto the counter as Madeleine stiffened.

Is this round two, or something?

But, no. Maureen had put the shirt back on and if it was coming off again, Maureen would have to do it herself. Madeleine wasn’t in the mood. She continued scrubbing away at her countertop. What if someone from work dropped by? What if it was Monsieur Sauveur? What if it was Myron? She’d at least clean up the messes they’d made. But, God, was it hard to ignore Maureen as she leaned up beside her wearing almost nothing at all.

"So, I trust you slept well?"

“The best,” Madeleine said quickly, in a semi-sarcastic manner. It had been fine, but she wasn’t going to say it out loud. As of right now, eight twenty-three AM, she was starting her life over. (She often started her life over after a night like last night, but sooner or later—most often sooner than later—she had to start the clock over again). But she wasn’t going to be rude. “And you?”
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Old 06-26-2009 at 08:59 AM
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Maureen Dawson

Even though the touch across Madeleine's back had been brief, she heard the rag fall to the counter and felt the woman's body stiffen, a reaction that sent a jolt of shock through her body, quickly followed by ensuing confusion. Number one, it was just a teasing gesture, maybe even a thankful one for their actions last night, and it was certainly not meant to lead anywhere and number two, would the woman really reject her advance if her intentions had been more than friendly? From the way the woman had responded last night, noted that she had been fairly buzzed, Maureen didn't think she'd reject the idea. Sure she'd been with a few women that went home with her drunk, woke up in the morning and completely flipped their lid because they had never thought they'd actually act on any of their silent fantasies. But the way Madeleine had composed herself, the sheer air of experience she exuded, not to mention the fact that she did perform as well if not better than that attitude projected, told Maureen otherwise. This was no drunken first girl on girl experience. Anyone would have been able to see that from last night. Of course, Maureen really had no intention of telling anyone about it. Who would she tell would be the question? Beth had run off to Russia to marry her knight in shining armor. Vivien was...well, she had no clue and it didn't matter. They weren't that close. Pieter...that was out of the question. Alexander...negative. What happened to me having a life? I don't know anyone anymore. And that's when it became apparent that Maureen wanted to try and befriend the woman in front of her. She didn't have any friends and this was an opportunity.

However, to further complicate her plans for friendship or atleast commraderie, things seemed to spiral downhill a little more. As to Maureen's question, a question that could very well be answered with some witty comeback, Madeleine was far from teasing or even playful in her response. In fact, her response was far from cordial. It was delivered too quick and laced with a touch of sarcasm. Maureen crossed her arms without realizing it, pouting but quickly catching herself and wiping the look away. This wasn't Pieter. She wasn't in a relationship here and pouting wasn't going to get her anywhere or anything. She had been planning on joking back, trying to lighten the mood but she found she wasn't exactly in the mood to do that anymore. "It was good. Once I went to sleep, I was out." Halfway through speaking, she noticed for the first time that Madeleine was cooking eggs, her stomach issuing a growl that was less than ladylike as usual, and in attempt to block out the noise, she got louder as she spoke, finally ending and grinning ridiculously. She turned her head away from Madeleine, rolling her eyes at herself and looking around the apartment for the first time, liking everything that she saw. Maybe one day, you'll get out of that ridiculous dorm for good.

Having made a full assessment of the living room, she turned her attention to the kitchen, glancing over miniscule details. Small things, like the note on the refrigerator that said 'work: ballet rehearsal at 6:00, don't forget the key' and...she had been about to look further but the note struck her and made her pause. Ballet rehearsal....for the...Populaire? It simply couldn't be. There was no way in hell. The chances of that being true had to be small. She fought the urge to come right out and ask but the woman could easily lie if she thought it would compromise her job and reputation. And Maureen was clever. If she wanted to know something, she had a way of finding out. There was one way to do this. Ask every possible business she could be into except the Opera Populaire. If she didn't dance, own her own studio, or work at the Bastille, the only other option was the Populaire. Let the questions begin. "I didn't take you as the dancing type..." and she walked over to the note, fingering it slightly with her hand, "so I take it you're a dance instructor seeing as you do have a key, do you have you're on studio or work for someone else?"


I just wanna be alone now with the dark and the light. That's my favorite color blue there

As the sun sets in the sky, there's just something in the hue there in the corner of my eye
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Old 06-29-2009 at 04:22 PM
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Madeleine de Chandon

Madeleine felt this weird obligation towards Maureen. It was a feeling Madeleine knew well, but seldom acted upon. How many men had been through her apartment for a good romp? How many women? And most of them just left when the morning came. Maureen was… still here. Sitting in her kitchen staring almost expectantly at her. And that was when it dawned on Madeleine that the last person to stay this long—actually, probably longer, but definitely the last person to make it past eight o’clock—had been Myron. And before that, Andrew. And Andrew had been way back before she’d moved back to Paris. That had been Britain. That had been deep. That had been before she invited just anyone to bed with her. And her relationship with Myron had been—and still was—special. So… That Maureen was still here was kind of a sign… And it kind of terrified Madeleine.

She moved the spatula under a cluster of scrambled eggs, her hand slightly hitting the pan and burning. She winced but kept on going. Why was Maureen still here? Madeleine wasn’t looking for a permanent bed buddy.

"It was good. Once I went to sleep, I was out."

I bet you were.

Madeleine had been that way, too. She’d been… exhausted. And that didn’t happen for her often. Usually, after rolling around with a lover, Madeleine was still awake, unsatisfied, and bored. Many a time, she found herself choreographing or watching TV or reading a book for a couple of hours afterwards until she just shut her eyes and drifted off. And even then, she never questioned whether what she was doing was wrong. She just blanked her mind for the time. But this had been different and Madeleine—who usually welcomed the strange and different with open arms—didn’t like it one bit.

I didn't take you as the dancing type..."

Madeleine stiffened. Uh-oh. What did this woman find? She glanced in what she hoped looked like a nonchalant way to see Maureen fingering one of her memo-to-self’s. Madeleine shrugged a bit, but she was gnawing away at her lower lip.
"So I take it you're a dance instructor seeing as you do have a key, do you have you're on studio or work for someone else?"

“I don’t own my own studio,” she said awkwardly. “I mean, me? Own a studio? Who has that kind of time? Money? Patience? Please.” She hoped to side-track her. “Besides, it’s so much… Responsibility to own your own. And no one needs that kind of stress.” She paused for a moment. “What do you do for a living?”

Please not ballet, please not ballet….
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Old 07-02-2009 at 01:44 AM
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Maureen Dawson

“I don’t own my own studio, I mean, me? Own a studio? Who has that kind of time? Money? Patience? Please." Maureen looked at her, not breaking eye contact as she shrugged innocently, implying that it had been a simple guess with no other intentions behind it, "Besides, it’s so much… Responsibility to own your own. And no one needs that kind of stress.” She nodded in agreement, not really knowing how to comment on it. Working in the opera was pretty stressful in and of itself and she was starting to get that feeling in her stomach that said she should have been more careful. That she should have put up red flags when the woman looked just a little familiar. Still, it wouldn't be the first time and Maureen only hoped it was someone who played a smaller part in the Opera employee system and not someone of great importance. That could get awkward quick if both parties weren't mutually okay with everything that had happened. Still, she knew she could be getting way ahead of herself. The woman could work at the other end of Paris for all she knew and if that were the case, everything would be fine.

"What do you do for a living?" Maureen was a bit baffled and wordless at the moment. She hadn't thought that Madeleine would actually ask her where she worked and she was completely taken off guard. She could lie or tell exactly what she did but not say where she worked. It would be telling the truth minus one small detail. Then again, it was omitting the most important detail and she imagined if she told her what she did, the next question would be where so it would be best to get it all out in sentence. And in a way, it could be quicker to come on out with it. She could certainly gauge the woman's reaction to everything by her facial expressions and body language, she was after all standing directly in front of her. And it was that last thought that told her what she was going to say, "I am lead pianist for the Paris Opera." She rolled her eyes playfully, "I wanted to play acoustic guitar but you know, they really have no use for that so I just tried for piano. I'll tell you this though, they sure do pay better than playing on the street."


I just wanna be alone now with the dark and the light. That's my favorite color blue there

As the sun sets in the sky, there's just something in the hue there in the corner of my eye
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Old 07-02-2009 at 06:22 AM
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Madeleine de Chandon

If you’ve ever had a premonition, you’d understand what Madeleine was feeling at the moment. Sick. Prescient. Mostly sick. It was like being told that the roller coaster you were having fun on thirty seconds ago was going to derail. And yet, knowledge of the inevitable was something that painted a calm face on Madeleine. One of resigned expectation. Curiosity. Praying she was wrong. But like Pandora and Eve, Madeleine wanted to know. Had to know. Even if it would be to her detriment.

"I am lead pianist for the Paris Opera." She rolled her eyes playfully, "I wanted to play acoustic guitar but you know, they really have no use for that so I just tried for piano. I'll tell you this though, they sure do pay better than playing on the street."

“F*ck.”

In those four letters, Madeleine said it all. She hated to be blunt, hated to be succinct, but there was really no other way to describe how she was feeling right now. She would be seeing a lot more of Maureen from here on out. And every time their eyes met in rehearsal, they’d remember last night. Or worse, Maureen would brag about doing the Ballet Mistress and then Myron would find out and then Monsieur Renard would fire her…

“Look. We have got to talk.” Madeleine set the plates of eggs on the counter next to Maureen. She rummaged in a nearby drawer for forks. She tossed them beside the plates with a little too much force. “Last night was great, but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep it between me and you, capice?” A little too rough. Madeleine sighed frustratedly and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m the Ballet Mistress at the Populaire. You’re the pianist. I really, really don’t think we should string it up in lights that you and I had sex. Too many people at work would… ahem… frown upon it.”

By that she meant flip out and fire them for lack of professionalism. Madeleine groaned and leaned heavily against the counter, arms folded. She huffed out and ruffled her hair. Then, she hazarded a glance at Maureen. Nope. Not gonna look. She looked at the ceiling.

“So much for a new start, whore,” she muttered to herself.
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Old 07-03-2009 at 12:34 AM
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Maureen Dawson

“F*ck.” Yes, we did...Maureen cursed herself for making a the silent joke, knowing full well what context the word was being used in and that it most certainly wasn't a good thing. She was relieved on one level that she wouldn't have to read any kind of signs or body language at all. That one word pretty much told her everything she needed to know, which was that she did indeed work with Madeleine. Between having that confirmed and the ballet note on the refrigerator, she seemed to put more together than she thought she'd be able to. It was like her memory released images she wasn't aware she'd even stored. Images such as Madeleine instructing the ballet corps at rehearsal and flashes of conversations between the ballet corps as she passed them in the corridors involving a certain Madeleine Ledoux. And finally a very blurry memory of a Madeleine Ledoux being introduced to the whole of the company but she had been completely zoned out and instead of running to see over the edge of the pit, stayed put on the bench of her piano. Sure this could jeopardize both of their careers but surely Madeleine wasn't one to tell and she wasn't either. And on top of that, they'd been smart enough to stay far enough away from the opera while participating in the activities they had. Doing it in or near the Opera was one thing, doing it here was another. Besides, unless this was going to interfere with their work, it shouldn't be such a problem.

"Look. We have got to talk." She seemed frantic almost in her words, sitting the eggs on the counter, yanking the drawer open and searching and failing momentarily to find what Maureen assumed to be silverware. When she finally found them, they were tossed beside the plates, skittering to the corner of the counter with the force of the throw and Maureen jumped at the sudden outburst of sorts. "Okay so talk..." she half got out before Madeleine was speaking again, "Last night was great, but if you know what's good for you, you'll keep it between me and you, capice?" Maureen crossed her arms involuntarily, cocking an eyebrow at the woman in a scolding fashion. A threat? Really, you didn't have to jump that far to begin with. She watched Madeleine sigh in a frustrated manner, and Maureen half nodded in satisfaction that the woman realized she'd been too harsh right from the start. "I'm the Ballet Mistress at the Populaire. You're the pianist. I really, really don't think we should string it up in lights that you and I had sex. Too many people at work would...ahem...frown upon it." And with that she stopped, groaning, arms folded in a similar manner to herself. Maureen still hadn't taken her eyes off of her, listening to every word and waiting til she knew for sure the woman was done before she spoke.

Having thought Madeleine was getting ready to look at her, Maureen was displeased to find that she turned and looked at the ceiling at the last second. It was her turn to huff as she sorted through the many lines going through her head. It wasn't the first time she'd slept with someone else employed at the opera. There had been numerous people, one of more importance than Madeleine's position and she wouldn't dare tell on her either. Still, she couldn't blame Madeleine for freaking out. They knew nothing about each other and so, it would only be human for her to assume she was going to go and tell everyone she'd slept with the ballet mistress. Instead of speaking, she walked over to the second plate of eggs, picking up the fork that had almost fell to the floor and proceeding to take a bite of them. She took her time in chewing it up, noting that they were pretty good for someone who had just woke up with a hangover from a long night in bed. "These are great," she said, motioning at the eggs with her fork. She leaned nonchalantly against the bar, pushing the eggs around on the plate before looking back up at Madeleine, "I can assure you of this, I dont kiss and tell..." she gave Madeleine a meaningful look, "good thing too, alot of people would no longer be employed at the Opera." And though she said the line in a serious manner to let Madeleine know she was far from joking about it, a playful smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth soon after in hopes that she had lightened the mood.


I just wanna be alone now with the dark and the light. That's my favorite color blue there

As the sun sets in the sky, there's just something in the hue there in the corner of my eye
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Old 07-04-2009 at 04:40 AM
Mrs Nadir Khan
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House Patron
Slave to my Inspiration

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Roaming Dungeons
(Performer Is Offline)
 Post [10] »


Madeleine de Chandon

Madeleine exhaled slowly. She was probably paranoid. Probably over reacting. But even Madeleine de Chandon had morals. Had boundaries. Limits. Co-workers were off limits. They had to be. She’d already learned that lesson… And yet, here she was repeating history.

Learn from your mistakes and don’t make them again, someone had told her that once. Had it been her mother? Maybe,, maybe not. It didn’t matter. It was just one of those lessons that she had to learn now, even if it was too late.

"These are great."

Madeleine looked at Maureen. Oh, the eggs. She smiled weakly. How many times had she made morning after scrambled eggs? Hundreds. And yet, very few people stuck around to actually enjoy them. Maybe she was being too harsh on Maureen…

Which was weird. Madeleine tried her very best not to have any regrets.

"I can assure you of this, I dont kiss and tell..." she gave Madeleine a meaningful look, "good thing too, alot of people would no longer be employed at the Opera."

Madeleine met Maureen’s eyes significantly and exhaled an awkward laugh. Opera folks were a different brand of people. Sure, ballet tarts bragged on their patrons. But, really? Those were only the immature, high-maintenance harlots who needed everyone to know where they stood on the status ladder. Really, Madeleine was only in it for the sex. She knew where she stood and she was as high up on the food chain now as a dancer could get.

“Thanks.” Something rare from Madeleine—genuine gratitude. “I really appreciate it, Maureen.”

Her eyes softened a bit. They probably weren’t that different. Maureen was no stranger to the bedroom, that was for certain. But, God, they’d been two women prowling a nightclub looking for the same thing. Even in her buzzed—okay, drunken—state, Madeleine had felt a weird connection to Maureen. Not love. Lust, definitely. But now, it was back and it wasn’t lust. Madeleine felt lost, but like with Maureen she had a chance to grab onto something almost meaningful and hold on tight.

“I don’t think you and I are all that different,” she said softly, pushing her eggs around on the plate, but not losing eye contact. “I’m not much of one for I’ll show you mine if you show me yours...” Liar. “But I will tell you this much, you aren’t the first of my co-workers I’ve had. It’s just been… a while, I suppose. So, I’m sorry for jumping down your throat. You were great last night and you are great for sticking around this long.”

Madeleine smile and went to the fridge. She ripped off a sticky note from the pad of paper magneted to it and scrawled down her number.

“I’m not asking you to come back for more sex—though, really, if that’s all you’re after, you’re welcome to it—but if you ever want to talk or get some drinks after work or something, don’t be a stranger.”

She’d never done that before, but as Madeleine extended her cell phone number to Maureen, she felt that—for the first time in a long time—she was doing something right.

What the hell was she getting herself into now?
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