Ysabel wasn't much for cooking, or, for that matter, doing any kind of housework by herself. She knew Marie was going to need a snack though. She'd had her new familiar take a nap that afternoon, so that they could stay up late in preparation for their trip to the mall. Now that Marie was up, Ysabel was trying to find something that passed as food.
However, she was afraid her tastes and Marie's would be very different, particularly as Ysabel did not like to eat much, and generally stuck to very light fare such as salads and fruit. With that in mind, she'd bought a tray of fresh fruit and berries, along with vegetables and dip. Then, trying to channel Ambrose, she had also picked up one of his favorite snacks, oddly enough - oreos and milk. Hopefully there would be something there that Marie liked.
Her keen ears picked up the sounds of Marie's pattering feet, which slowed to a more sedate walk as she entered the kitchen. Turning away from the counter, Ysabel offered the trays to Marie one at a time with a smile, to put on the table.
"I wasn't sure what you'd want for a snack, so this is what we've got for now," she said with a soft smile. "If you let me know what you like, we can order it next time."
Ysabel didn't shop for food. She ordered it if it was necessary and had it delivered. Since she didn't eat, and the only times she'd bought food in recent memory were for celebrations or large groups, it seemed natural to her that such things should be delivered. Why would her home pantry be any different?
Gathering her gown carefully and sitting at the table across from Marie, she asked, "Have you thought about what you like in your room? What color you want it to be?"
Decorating Marie's room would be on their list of things to do tonight as well. The room was a guest room and Ysabel felt it was quite impersonal the way it was. If it was to be Marie's room, it should have things in it Marie liked. And, given that Marie didn't have a lot, Ysabel figured they'd have to buy quite a lot.
Christmas in June
It was very much like a dream, at least to Marie. She had a home again and better yet a family. It was a strange family, but it was hers. She was even getting used to Ambrose, not understanding him but she was learning when to stay out of the way. Of course Ysabel was helping with that too.
But then Ysabel was helping with every thing. She'd bitten Marie three times at this point and Marie was no longer fearful in the slightest. In fact, she was sorry that Ysabel was insisting she recover some. Right now providing blood for her vampire was the only thing Marie felt capable of doing and to have that put on hold bothered her.
Rather than dwell on that, however, she'd thrown herself into the lessons Ysabel had been giving her. Italian, Ysabel said she should learn another language and Marie was tackling this one head on with no fear. It wasn't -that- different from Spanish. It was a bit frustrating to keep mis-accenting the words and she kept thinking in Spanish. But Marie was determined, she wanted to make Ysabel proud.
Setting aside her workbook, she touched her father's belt buckle and her mother's silver brush and comb. She still missed them. But now she though she heard someone in the kitchen, or maybe the family room and half ran out to see who it was.
Her sneakers were well worn, her jeans frayed and the t-shirt faded; but everything was clean. Half skidding to a halt she tried to remember to walk like a lady, like Ysabel said she should.
Ysabel
15 years ago
Marie
15 years ago
It was simple enough to tell Ysabel’s walk from Ambrose’s but even knowing it was Ysabel moving about the kitchen she smiled broadly as she spied her vampire.
Still getting used to getting regular meals again she eyed the tray with pleasure. One small hand darted out grabbed an Oreo and she wolfed it down before making a more healthy choice, a banana, and doing so a bit more civilly. As she peeled the fruit she answered.
“PB&J, Mac and cheese, granola, peanut butter, chips, oh I can make salsa if you’d like. Not as good as my abuela’s but its not bad. Or I could just go to the store if you want.”
Marie was desperate to be able to do something useful. She wanted to prove herself in some way instead of just being a leech.
Ysabel had such good table manners Marie was extra careful of her own, well with the exception of the Oreo snag she was. She wasn’t perfect but she was working on it.
“Maybe green, or tan. What do you think?”
Still getting used to getting regular meals again she eyed the tray with pleasure. One small hand darted out grabbed an Oreo and she wolfed it down before making a more healthy choice, a banana, and doing so a bit more civilly. As she peeled the fruit she answered.
“PB&J, Mac and cheese, granola, peanut butter, chips, oh I can make salsa if you’d like. Not as good as my abuela’s but its not bad. Or I could just go to the store if you want.”
Marie was desperate to be able to do something useful. She wanted to prove herself in some way instead of just being a leech.
Ysabel had such good table manners Marie was extra careful of her own, well with the exception of the Oreo snag she was. She wasn’t perfect but she was working on it.
“Maybe green, or tan. What do you think?”
Ysabel
15 years ago
Ysabel watched Marie snag a cookie before moving on to a banana instead. Inwardly she smiled. Marie was doing her best to be a proper young lady, under Ysabel's tutelage, but every once in a while the young girl in her came out. Ysabel supposed that was healthy. She didn't remember all the details of her human life, but she knew she and Dayle had gotten into their fair share of trouble, through both actions and behavior.
"How about we go to the store together? That way I can see what you like." Ysabel managed to say it without grimacing in distaste. She understood though that with a familiar as young as Marie, she did need to be present for some things. "And once we know how much we need and how often, then you can go."
It wasn't a stretch for Marie to buy food for herself. Ysabel and Ambrose probably wouldn't eat much of it. Even now, Ysabel's hand was barely skimming over the tray of food on the table, picking up a raspberry here, a strawberry there, eating just to enjoy the flavor rather than for any physical benefit.
"And how about both green and tan?" she asked. "They go together nicely; those are both good choices."
She was a little glad Marie hadn't said pink. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but an entire roomful of pink never looked as attractive as it sounded, in Ysabel's opinion.
"How about we go to the store together? That way I can see what you like." Ysabel managed to say it without grimacing in distaste. She understood though that with a familiar as young as Marie, she did need to be present for some things. "And once we know how much we need and how often, then you can go."
It wasn't a stretch for Marie to buy food for herself. Ysabel and Ambrose probably wouldn't eat much of it. Even now, Ysabel's hand was barely skimming over the tray of food on the table, picking up a raspberry here, a strawberry there, eating just to enjoy the flavor rather than for any physical benefit.
"And how about both green and tan?" she asked. "They go together nicely; those are both good choices."
She was a little glad Marie hadn't said pink. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but an entire roomful of pink never looked as attractive as it sounded, in Ysabel's opinion.
Marie
15 years ago
Banana finished she filched another cookie, munching this one much more slowly before taking a carrot. Somehow the cookies were all right if she alternated them with something ‘good for her’.
She beamed at the idea of going to the store together and nodded her head. She thought she might be able to go shopping on her own, but she’d never really done it. Mostly she’d gone with her mother or another relative or been sent in for one or two things.
“Oh, we could. But I don’t know how to do that. I’ve never decorated a room before, not really. I’ve hung posters and stuff though.”
She was trying to work out how out painted a room green and tan and it was looking sort of… odd to her. She munched thoughtfully on another carrot as she considered this and it just wasn’t working for her.
She beamed at the idea of going to the store together and nodded her head. She thought she might be able to go shopping on her own, but she’d never really done it. Mostly she’d gone with her mother or another relative or been sent in for one or two things.
“Oh, we could. But I don’t know how to do that. I’ve never decorated a room before, not really. I’ve hung posters and stuff though.”
She was trying to work out how out painted a room green and tan and it was looking sort of… odd to her. She munched thoughtfully on another carrot as she considered this and it just wasn’t working for her.
Ysabel
15 years ago
"Is that what you'd like in your room? Posters?" Marie was fifteen, after all, well into her teenage years and not exactly a little girl. Ysabel reflected that she had been eightteen at the time of her creation, but she had felt so much older. Perhaps it was because of the Yolgraves, who had allowed her and Dayle to simply grow, instead of pressuring for marriages and children before their sixteenth year. Ysabel had no doubt that had they remained the twin daughters of a simple farmer and his wife, they'd have been married off and having children and would never have known any different life.
Shaking herself out of her reverie she said, "We'll stop at some furniture stores while we're out. You can look at the model rooms and maybe you'll see something there that really catches your eye."
Ysabel had very specific ideas about decorating rooms, and had in fact worked at one point as an interior decorator, but she had never actually done a room for a modern teenaged girl. She didn't want to impose her ideas on Marie; there would be enough of that with the girl as her familiar as it was, and she was determined that Marie feel she retained as much of her identity as possible.
Shaking herself out of her reverie she said, "We'll stop at some furniture stores while we're out. You can look at the model rooms and maybe you'll see something there that really catches your eye."
Ysabel had very specific ideas about decorating rooms, and had in fact worked at one point as an interior decorator, but she had never actually done a room for a modern teenaged girl. She didn't want to impose her ideas on Marie; there would be enough of that with the girl as her familiar as it was, and she was determined that Marie feel she retained as much of her identity as possible.
Marie
15 years ago
Marie blushed a little and found herself staring at her carrot. It was a rather immature idea, but she really didn't have another one. They hadn't been poor but they hadn't been rich either so they'd never really 'decorated' the kids' rooms. Even the common areas weren't exactly decorated, they were more functional and sort of pretty.
"I don't know. That's what I had at home."Â?
Her room at home had been -tiny- but it had been hers and she'd covered the walls with pictures, posters, and the few ribbons she'd won in competition. She'd managed a desk a dresser and a nightstand too, and of course those surfaces had been filled with various things. Looking back, as much as she'd love her room it had been crowded.
The idea of furniture shopping knocked her out of her little slump quite quickly.
"Do they have an Ikea here?"Â?
Cheapish compact furniture had been the order of the day before, so her mind still ran that way. That and Marie had never really been furniture shopping, unless you counted bouncing on the beds at some of the local department stores and mocking the incredibly cheap and poorly made furniture at the discount stores.
"I don't know. That's what I had at home."Â?
Her room at home had been -tiny- but it had been hers and she'd covered the walls with pictures, posters, and the few ribbons she'd won in competition. She'd managed a desk a dresser and a nightstand too, and of course those surfaces had been filled with various things. Looking back, as much as she'd love her room it had been crowded.
The idea of furniture shopping knocked her out of her little slump quite quickly.
"Do they have an Ikea here?"Â?
Cheapish compact furniture had been the order of the day before, so her mind still ran that way. That and Marie had never really been furniture shopping, unless you counted bouncing on the beds at some of the local department stores and mocking the incredibly cheap and poorly made furniture at the discount stores.
Ysabel
15 years ago
Ysabel began to realize her idea of furniture shopping and Marie's might be very, very different.
"Ikea? No... I don't think so." She said it a little hesitantly. Ysabel was unfamiliar with the store, although she had heard of the name and realized it was a large place. She hadn't even had it on the list of "must see" stores.
"If that's where you would like to go, we can find one."
The words nearly pained her to say, but say them she did, with a pleasant smile. Two of Ysabel's personality traits warred within her; one was being used to the finer things in life but the other, a stronger urge, was the need to be agreeable. She had learned to swallow that partiular urge with Ambrose but that attitude only extended to Ambrose - and ironically, only extended to him because her desire to please and be agreeable to him meant not being agreeable all the time. It was a paradox she could not forget and drew constant amusement from.
"We'll look at some other stores too," Ysabel decided, "so you can figure out what you like."
Then, testing our her young familiar's study skills she added, "Approvazione?"
"Ikea? No... I don't think so." She said it a little hesitantly. Ysabel was unfamiliar with the store, although she had heard of the name and realized it was a large place. She hadn't even had it on the list of "must see" stores.
"If that's where you would like to go, we can find one."
The words nearly pained her to say, but say them she did, with a pleasant smile. Two of Ysabel's personality traits warred within her; one was being used to the finer things in life but the other, a stronger urge, was the need to be agreeable. She had learned to swallow that partiular urge with Ambrose but that attitude only extended to Ambrose - and ironically, only extended to him because her desire to please and be agreeable to him meant not being agreeable all the time. It was a paradox she could not forget and drew constant amusement from.
"We'll look at some other stores too," Ysabel decided, "so you can figure out what you like."
Then, testing our her young familiar's study skills she added, "Approvazione?"
Marie
15 years ago
Marie shook her head.
“I don’t know. I mean really I don’t have a lot of preferences with furniture. What’s in there now is nice. I think maybe a little desk would be all I’d want.”
She sounded as hesitant and Ysabel. The furniture that was in her room now had been picked out by Ysabel and as such Marie was already quite fond of it. She also didn’t want to push her luck or ask for too much. She wasn’t sure why that was though, she felt as safe and secure as she had in quite a long time. But then again, maybe that was it, maybe a lot of this was still rather dream like.
“Even if I had a preference I wouldn’t know where to shop here.”
She smiled at Ysabel, a slightly impish grin.
The Italian caused her to do a double take. She hadn’t been ready for that and she frowned, biting her lip as she looked over the tray. Her first instinct was that the word would have something to do with the snacks.
No, it wasn’t any of the food.
“Approvazione… approvazione… approval?”
Marie wasn’t sure that was the right word at all and was now desperately looking for approval. Please god let her have gotten that right.
“I don’t know. I mean really I don’t have a lot of preferences with furniture. What’s in there now is nice. I think maybe a little desk would be all I’d want.”
She sounded as hesitant and Ysabel. The furniture that was in her room now had been picked out by Ysabel and as such Marie was already quite fond of it. She also didn’t want to push her luck or ask for too much. She wasn’t sure why that was though, she felt as safe and secure as she had in quite a long time. But then again, maybe that was it, maybe a lot of this was still rather dream like.
“Even if I had a preference I wouldn’t know where to shop here.”
She smiled at Ysabel, a slightly impish grin.
The Italian caused her to do a double take. She hadn’t been ready for that and she frowned, biting her lip as she looked over the tray. Her first instinct was that the word would have something to do with the snacks.
No, it wasn’t any of the food.
“Approvazione… approvazione… approval?”
Marie wasn’t sure that was the right word at all and was now desperately looking for approval. Please god let her have gotten that right.
Ysabel
15 years ago
Ysabel smiled. Perhaps, eventually, they would find a happy medium between what facets of Marie's personality reigned and what bits of being a familiar won through. For now, it would be enough to get the girl out and looking around in the mall. She might have to do some mind-reading on the fly, but Ysabel was a fair enough judge of temperament that she had a feeling she'd be able to tell if something caught Marie's eye.
"Approvazione," she repeated, this time not making it a question, "means, more or less, 'okay.' You were right, it's basically approval."
She had figured Italian would be the quickest for Marie to learn first. It was close enough to Spanish for her to pick up on it easily. Ysabel disapproved of children in school learning only one foreign language, and most of them poorly at that. She had been raised as a lady should, to speak fluently in several languages, and she wanted the same for Marie. No matter where she went, she should be able to speak the tongue. It was only respectful.
"Are you finding the books difficullt, or not difficult enough?" she asked. "We can always buy different ones if you prefer something else."
"Approvazione," she repeated, this time not making it a question, "means, more or less, 'okay.' You were right, it's basically approval."
She had figured Italian would be the quickest for Marie to learn first. It was close enough to Spanish for her to pick up on it easily. Ysabel disapproved of children in school learning only one foreign language, and most of them poorly at that. She had been raised as a lady should, to speak fluently in several languages, and she wanted the same for Marie. No matter where she went, she should be able to speak the tongue. It was only respectful.
"Are you finding the books difficullt, or not difficult enough?" she asked. "We can always buy different ones if you prefer something else."
Marie
15 years ago
Marie frowned again, upset to have missed the language question. Well not miss, but she’d not been spot on.
“It’s a long word for OK.”
She sulked a bit. She was trying quite hard to learn the Italian, she enjoyed the study but more than that it seed to please Ysabel. That was very important. The fact that she was having some fun with the challenge and the Italian sounded cool was side benefits.
“The books are good. Some of its too easy but most of it isn’t, so it’s not the books fault.”
Why wasn’t this coming to her as easily as she thought it should? A though hit Marie. This wasn’t how she’d learned Spanish. That’s why it was throwing her!
“It might help if I could hear it, speak it more. Back home we didn’t even think about what language we were speaking you just talked. Spanish, English didn’t matter.”
Well unless you were speaking to her grandparents. –Then- it mattered and then it had better be Spanish, unless they spoke English first.
“It’s a long word for OK.”
She sulked a bit. She was trying quite hard to learn the Italian, she enjoyed the study but more than that it seed to please Ysabel. That was very important. The fact that she was having some fun with the challenge and the Italian sounded cool was side benefits.
“The books are good. Some of its too easy but most of it isn’t, so it’s not the books fault.”
Why wasn’t this coming to her as easily as she thought it should? A though hit Marie. This wasn’t how she’d learned Spanish. That’s why it was throwing her!
“It might help if I could hear it, speak it more. Back home we didn’t even think about what language we were speaking you just talked. Spanish, English didn’t matter.”
Well unless you were speaking to her grandparents. –Then- it mattered and then it had better be Spanish, unless they spoke English first.
Ysabel
15 years ago
Ysabel laughed lightly at Marie's complaint. "I suppose it is," she agreed.
Her familiar's observations were quite astute though, so Ysabel switched into flowing Italian as they chatted.
"Speaking is better for you then, n
She smiled and placed her finger on the table. "
Her familiar's observations were quite astute though, so Ysabel switched into flowing Italian as they chatted.
"Speaking is better for you then, n
on è vero?"
She smiled and placed her finger on the table. "
Come se dice 'table' in Italian?"
Simple games like these would be the easiest to learn. Marie should have learned enough by now to name simple items, and she would be sure to buy some CDs for her to listen to as well, but for now Ysabel was more than up to the task of speaking the language.
Marie
15 years ago
It wasn’t that Marie had doubted Ysabel could speak Italian, she knew she could. But still having her switch so suddenly was a bit intimidating and impressive. On the other hand though she was very pleased Ysabel would make that effort for her. It made her feel special.
So she did her best to respond in kind. The answer was halting and in an odd combination of Italian, Spanish and English and what Italian she managed had a Spanish accent. But she was trying.
“Si. Things make more sense when I hear them. I understand them better, I think. I don’t know why.”
Her mother had often talked about learning languages by immersion, Marie had never paid much attention. Maybe she should have.
“Es tabla.”
No, that was too easy. It was close though!
“Nessun è tabella. Si?”
So she did her best to respond in kind. The answer was halting and in an odd combination of Italian, Spanish and English and what Italian she managed had a Spanish accent. But she was trying.
“Si. Things make more sense when I hear them. I understand them better, I think. I don’t know why.”
Her mother had often talked about learning languages by immersion, Marie had never paid much attention. Maybe she should have.
“Es tabla.”
No, that was too easy. It was close though!
“Nessun è tabella. Si?”
Ysabel
15 years ago
Ysabel smiled happily at Marie's correction. "Bene, cio e una tabella," she said, taking the lesson a bit further by offering the gender of the word and using a proper, complete sentence to describe it.
They went along like this for several minutes, Ysabel asking the same question and Marie either answering correctly, or responding with "Io non lo so," after which Ysabel would provide her with the word.
Within half an hour or so Ysabel had begun to add simple statements.
"The table is heavy... la tabella e pesante."
"The picture is pretty... l'immagine e graziosa."
Marie seemed to understand a good deal of it; she jut needed to hear the different pronunciation and learn the Italian version of words she was already familiar with. Overall, Ysabel thought she was doing quite well. She tried to convey that by using a variety of praises in Italian, letting Marie know it was a job well done, particularly for someone who'd only been trying for a couple of days now.
They went along like this for several minutes, Ysabel asking the same question and Marie either answering correctly, or responding with "Io non lo so," after which Ysabel would provide her with the word.
Within half an hour or so Ysabel had begun to add simple statements.
"The table is heavy... la tabella e pesante."
"The picture is pretty... l'immagine e graziosa."
Marie seemed to understand a good deal of it; she jut needed to hear the different pronunciation and learn the Italian version of words she was already familiar with. Overall, Ysabel thought she was doing quite well. She tried to convey that by using a variety of praises in Italian, letting Marie know it was a job well done, particularly for someone who'd only been trying for a couple of days now.
Marie
15 years ago
Hearing and using the language made a world of difference to Marie. Even though Ysabel was often correcting her accent this lesson felt more natural to her. Yes she sounded like a five year old but you had to start some where and it wasn't -that- much different than Spanish so while she sometimes got the languages confused she at least stood a pray in most cases. Still it was the flow and actually using the language that her brain seemed to crave and so things clicked better.
Feeling a little brave, and also hoping to impress Ysabel a little Marie attempted an actual conversation. She had a feeling she'd eventually give up and revert to Spanish or English but she was going to try.
"Where is Ambrose?"Â?
She hadn't seen him around for maybe a day, perhaps two. And it didn't seem to Marie that he and Ysabel were overly fond of being separated. Call it a hunch, or just good old observation.
Feeling a little brave, and also hoping to impress Ysabel a little Marie attempted an actual conversation. She had a feeling she'd eventually give up and revert to Spanish or English but she was going to try.
"Where is Ambrose?"Â?
She hadn't seen him around for maybe a day, perhaps two. And it didn't seem to Marie that he and Ysabel were overly fond of being separated. Call it a hunch, or just good old observation.
Ysabel
15 years ago
Marie's dialogue pleased Ysabel and she showed it in the form of a brilliant smile. She did, however, switch back to English because she was uncertain that Marie would understand the entire answer.
"Ambrose is in New York until this weekend," she said. "He's playing for a band there."
She gave a little sigh; she always missed Ambrose while he was away, surliness and all.
"He'll be impressed at your Italian," she added. "You're learning very quickly."
Plucking a strawberry from the tray on the kitchen table she said, "What should we do when he gets home, do you think?"
Well... she knew what she and Ambrose would be doing, but Marie should spend some time with him, too.
"Ambrose is in New York until this weekend," she said. "He's playing for a band there."
She gave a little sigh; she always missed Ambrose while he was away, surliness and all.
"He'll be impressed at your Italian," she added. "You're learning very quickly."
Plucking a strawberry from the tray on the kitchen table she said, "What should we do when he gets home, do you think?"
Well... she knew what she and Ambrose would be doing, but Marie should spend some time with him, too.
Marie
15 years ago
She’d done it right! Marie was so pleased she’d pleased Ysabel, as it was, that it was hard to contain herself. Her smile threatened to wrap around her head.
He was where? Doing what? Marie simply didn’t know what to make of that. Her preconceived notions of vampires did not include what Ysabel was saying. Even after living with two for a while now it didn’t seem to fit. She knew Ambrose was something of a musician, she’d seen his guitar and seen him playing, but he was… what?
“He’s in a band?”
Why would a vampire need a job? Weren’t all vampires rich? And a job like that of all things. He didn’t seem like that type. But Marie didn’t press.
“I think he’ll like it better than my Spanish.”
She giggled slightly. She still couldn’t quite get over how he’d gone after her when she tried to hit him up for a few bucks on the street. That was probably why Marie was still a little intimidated by Ambrose. Well that and the made charge in to a fight with an unknown enemy.
“I don’t know. Usually we’d do some kind of dinner or lunch or barbeque or whatever. But ummm…” how to put this politely? “neither of you seems to eat much so that wouldn’t be appropriate would it?”
He was where? Doing what? Marie simply didn’t know what to make of that. Her preconceived notions of vampires did not include what Ysabel was saying. Even after living with two for a while now it didn’t seem to fit. She knew Ambrose was something of a musician, she’d seen his guitar and seen him playing, but he was… what?
“He’s in a band?”
Why would a vampire need a job? Weren’t all vampires rich? And a job like that of all things. He didn’t seem like that type. But Marie didn’t press.
“I think he’ll like it better than my Spanish.”
She giggled slightly. She still couldn’t quite get over how he’d gone after her when she tried to hit him up for a few bucks on the street. That was probably why Marie was still a little intimidated by Ambrose. Well that and the made charge in to a fight with an unknown enemy.
“I don’t know. Usually we’d do some kind of dinner or lunch or barbeque or whatever. But ummm…” how to put this politely? “neither of you seems to eat much so that wouldn’t be appropriate would it?”
Ysabel
15 years ago
"He plays for some bands, if they need him to fill in. He's very good, but he can't commit to being in one all the time." She smiled at Marie. "They keep a good schedule, but those daytime practices are impossible."
Marie's first suggestion of food made Ysabel wince inwardly. It was a good idea, yes, but she knew absolutely nothing about cooking, and Marie cited the next reason herself.
"We don't really eat much, although if you took the time to make something special for him, I'm sure Ambrose would enjoy it."
He would enjoy it or she would... well, she didn't know what. Nothing, most likely. But Ysabel did believe that even at his surliest Ambrose wouldn't be callous enough to turn away a thoughtful gift.
"Perhaps when we're at the mall we'll get some ideas for him, too."
She glanced at the clock on the wall. "We still have a little while before we've got to leave. What do you want to do until then?"
She could name any number of things, but Ysabel liked to know what exactly pleased Marie. She knew the horses made the girl happy, but there wasn't quite enough time to ride.
Marie's first suggestion of food made Ysabel wince inwardly. It was a good idea, yes, but she knew absolutely nothing about cooking, and Marie cited the next reason herself.
"We don't really eat much, although if you took the time to make something special for him, I'm sure Ambrose would enjoy it."
He would enjoy it or she would... well, she didn't know what. Nothing, most likely. But Ysabel did believe that even at his surliest Ambrose wouldn't be callous enough to turn away a thoughtful gift.
"Perhaps when we're at the mall we'll get some ideas for him, too."
She glanced at the clock on the wall. "We still have a little while before we've got to leave. What do you want to do until then?"
She could name any number of things, but Ysabel liked to know what exactly pleased Marie. She knew the horses made the girl happy, but there wasn't quite enough time to ride.
Marie
15 years ago
“So he has to work?”
Marie asked cautiously. It was almost rude, but not quite, she felt. She was, after all, still trying to learn about her vampire and Ambrose was part of that equation.
She’d seen at least one guitar around the house and it really didn’t surprise her to learn it belonged to Ambrose. She wondered if maybe she could talk him into teaching her to play a little. Maybe, it could happen. He didn’t seem to hate her.
The food thing was going to take some getting used to. At home, food had been almost like a language. If something big happened, birth, death, wedding, holiday, you name it some one somewhere made food and –everyone- came over. It was odd to be in a situation where food meant so little.
What did she want to do? Marie looked startled. She hadn’t thought along those lines for a while now. Somehow, however, she was certain the answer ‘whatever you want to do’ wasn’t going to be acceptable. She thought back to home and what she liked to do there.
“Well… I used to sketch a little. Or movies, movies are good.”
Marie asked cautiously. It was almost rude, but not quite, she felt. She was, after all, still trying to learn about her vampire and Ambrose was part of that equation.
She’d seen at least one guitar around the house and it really didn’t surprise her to learn it belonged to Ambrose. She wondered if maybe she could talk him into teaching her to play a little. Maybe, it could happen. He didn’t seem to hate her.
The food thing was going to take some getting used to. At home, food had been almost like a language. If something big happened, birth, death, wedding, holiday, you name it some one somewhere made food and –everyone- came over. It was odd to be in a situation where food meant so little.
What did she want to do? Marie looked startled. She hadn’t thought along those lines for a while now. Somehow, however, she was certain the answer ‘whatever you want to do’ wasn’t going to be acceptable. She thought back to home and what she liked to do there.
“Well… I used to sketch a little. Or movies, movies are good.”
Ysabel
15 years ago
Ysabel considered her answer to Marie's question carefully. Ambrose was every inch as proud as he was prickly; she didn't want to give the impression that he was either dependent on her for money, which he wasn't, or not able to support himself. Finally she said simply, "Ambrose doesn't need to work but he enjoys his music, so he continues to do so. He has a good reputation and if he were to stop working, his name might be forgotten."
That was complete truth; Ysabel understood how the music industry worked. Out of sight, out of mind. Ambrose wouldn't let that happen, at least not for a while. Eventually he would have to but that time was not yet.
The idea that Marie liked to sketch pleased her greatly; sketching was an excellent passtime. Ysabel herself had been taught to paint, as any gently-bred lady should be. Granted, she didn't consider it foremost among her skills and in fact, her watercolors were somewhat... childish. Just that fact that Marie brought it up, though, cheered her.
"What do you like to sketch? We can pick up some supplies for you at the mall. I had a tutor who taught me to do watercolors when I was much younger, but I'm not very good. I was far better at needlework and playing the piano."
That was complete truth; Ysabel understood how the music industry worked. Out of sight, out of mind. Ambrose wouldn't let that happen, at least not for a while. Eventually he would have to but that time was not yet.
The idea that Marie liked to sketch pleased her greatly; sketching was an excellent passtime. Ysabel herself had been taught to paint, as any gently-bred lady should be. Granted, she didn't consider it foremost among her skills and in fact, her watercolors were somewhat... childish. Just that fact that Marie brought it up, though, cheered her.
"What do you like to sketch? We can pick up some supplies for you at the mall. I had a tutor who taught me to do watercolors when I was much younger, but I'm not very good. I was far better at needlework and playing the piano."
Marie
15 years ago
“That must be cool.”
Marie was at just the right age to be impressed and star struck by people in bands. So the news was rather fascinating and added a new dimension to Ambrose. She’d have to ask more about that later.
Blushing slightly that they would do –more- shopping for her she nibbled at her lip a bit before confessing to her artistic endeavors.
“A little bit of everything. I tried bowls of fruit because our art teach said we had to, but they were boring. Portraits are hard, noses are impossible but people are interesting to draw. Landscapes, whatever else seems interesting.”
The watercolors interested her a great deal but she made an odd face at the idea of needlework. Did people still do that? Well her grandmother tatted things, but that was her grandmother.
“I’d like to see your watercolors. What… do you mean by needle work?”
Marie was at just the right age to be impressed and star struck by people in bands. So the news was rather fascinating and added a new dimension to Ambrose. She’d have to ask more about that later.
Blushing slightly that they would do –more- shopping for her she nibbled at her lip a bit before confessing to her artistic endeavors.
“A little bit of everything. I tried bowls of fruit because our art teach said we had to, but they were boring. Portraits are hard, noses are impossible but people are interesting to draw. Landscapes, whatever else seems interesting.”
The watercolors interested her a great deal but she made an odd face at the idea of needlework. Did people still do that? Well her grandmother tatted things, but that was her grandmother.
“I’d like to see your watercolors. What… do you mean by needle work?”