Email to Marius

[x-roulette.livejournal.com]

to: Marius
from: Jennie

So I found out why the staff have been suspiciously lenient on the whole "buying a girl thing"

Because they've done it themselves. Sooraya Qadir? One of my roommates? Mr. Dayspring bought her off some guy in Afghanistan. Yes, really. I am living in a suite with not one, but two girls arrivng here via purchase. I'm slightly unsettled by it's apparent commoness.

Speaking of. She's back. You going to talk to her? Or am I going to have to arrange an "accidental" meeting that would in no way be seven kinds of awkward?

-J

Comments

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To: [ . . .]
From: [ . . . . . . .]


Well. That's certainly . . . well.

In the interest of maintaining my generally positive opinion of the school's judgment after the last little talk with a concerned staffmember, not to mention the brutal -- if richly deserved -- destruction of all self-esteem inflicted upon me by the founder of said school after my bit of brilliance this summer, I think perhaps I'll just be stopping all thoughts on that matter right here.

And yes. There is a decided likelihood that I should attempt interaction with the young girl when not cresting in the throes of cannibalistic madness and leaving her to pick up a drawerful of silverware to vanish into the dark and stormy night so you and I could reenact several of the more shining cliches in the history of horror films.


Except . . . what do you say?

[x-roulette.livejournal.com]

to: [help wanted]
from: [angel of mercy]

Well, 'I'm sorry' worked rather well for me. All I told her is that she was in a bad situation and you took her out of it, and then we proceeded to not get her the help she needed. Obtuse, I know, but that was my side to it. And you really can't say; "My friend also used your marrow so he could breathe like a normal person because he was desperate and crazy"

I mean, there is no real way to actually ease it into the conversation. I sort of blurted it out when I met her in the common area. But she was forgiving, surprised the hell out of me. I think...she might surprise you too. I don't know. She came and found me after the incident in the kitchen, you know.

And she still doesn't know what happened after that, I don't think. *cough*

I can be there for moral support, if you wish. But you have to do this. Remember the speech you gave me outside my Dad's building this summer? Angst and torment? You don't look that good in black, my dear.

[x-emplate.livejournal.com]

To: [Jennie]
From: [Marius]


I know, I know. I have been told she is very forgiving. Certainly this lot seem to be (for reasons it is now possible to discern). But I don't know. I well understand concerned parties are trying to relieve me of a few carryons from my vast collection of stylish emotional baggage, but I find a strange uncomfortableness forms at the repeated reassurance of "no worries about the purchase of a human being as long as it turned out well." Or at least, when told me from parties other than the purchased herself.

Should some things not just be wrong?

I don't know as I can lend my support to the reasoning "the ends justify the means." I clearly lack the judgment to play in the realm of ambiguity with any degree of safety. One time in my life I deemed the path of grey situationally acceptable, and look what came of it. The fact neither parent will any longer entrust me with any form of personal expense not submitted in triplicate through a sanctioned accountant being the least of my complaints.

So to compromise, no sodding thank you.


I need to think about this. As unlikely an event as that is.

And you know as well as I that I look fantastic in black.

[x-roulette.livejournal.com]

to: [Marius]
from: [Jennie]

It was wrong. About as wrong as stealing several thousand Euros. The forgiveness of this place is bordering on almost pathological. It's why I will never talk about it unless it's the professor or Samson. Their opinions don't matter to me. And those who try to tell you about her, about her feelings or how she's "much better off"? They aren't her. They weren't there, so they don't understand.

Talk to her. I can't explain it, but I felt a million pounds lighter afterwards.

Hell, If I could forgive you....

As for your predicament with your parents. I share your pain. I made a terrible first impression on mine, how do you make up for something like that? I feel like I'm constantly trying to prove myself worthy of this newfound attention.

And I will conceed you can pull off black admirably. Points docked if you start wearing eyeliner, though. My experiments not withstanding.

[x-emplate.livejournal.com]

To: [Jennie]
From: [Marius]


Ah, the assurances were well-meant; as the girl in question is no longer catatonic nor enjoying the loathsome company of suppliers in human misery my intellectual inclination is admittedly one of agreement. But as you say, it is somewhat personal in nature, so talk to Yvette I shall.

You know, just as soon as my brain provides me with an opener less off-putting than "So, me buying you: your thoughts?"

And ah, but your forgiveness is a special case, for as we know you are made of Mercy. I am still petitioning for your canonization after Forge displayed his incredible talent of kicking himself in his own tonsils before prom.

No worries about the family. I have every confidence your winning nature shall win out, as it is, ah . . . winning. (I jest, of course, but I do believe you will do well. Although if you like I shall quite happily unite them in hatred against myself. It is an area in which I possess vast experience.)

You have my solemn vow against the eyeliner, at least for circumstances other than moments of whimsy. Despite recent behavior we both know any attempts to rival Jay would be futile.