Madeleine Gray (burnlyrical) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-07-17 18:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | #solo, 2009-07-20, madeleine |
Deal your cards
Who: Madeleine & NPCed workmen.
Where: Her new home.
When: 3pm-ish and onwards
Madeleine sincerely loved her mother, but at this particular moment in time she was doubting her ability to speak to her again.
Naturally, all of her furniture and other belongings had been sent from London ahead of her--along with various knick knacks and 'Congratulations on your divorce!' presents/consolation prizes from other family and friends. It was perverse, really. She had gotten more productive things during her divorce than she had her marriage. With the exception of lessons learned; 'do not date water elementals' and 'thinking "No" is an inappropriate answer to The Question is not grounds to marry the pillock'. But to get back to the point--Lila Gray did not understand the definition of the word 'No'. Madeleine had politely requested that her mother refrain from trying to 'help' her move in no less than thirteen (why couldn't that be a lucky number?) times over the past month, each time with added emphasis and, admittedly, venom.
And yet.
Finding the front door open and music blasting out into the street, she set her handbag and other minimal luggage down on the front step and stared, with undisguised horror, at the men that filled her hall from wall to wall. There was no way in the name of God she was going to push her way past that lot. She had no idea what they were or where they'd been. And three of them really needed to find a belt for their jeans. Vile.
"You Mrs. Gray?"
Madeleine started, catching herself just before she physically assaulted the man addressing her. It wasn't his fault she didn't have eyes in the back of her head, but that was hardly a redeeming factor. "Miss. Gray," she hissed, occupying herself by smoothing down her clothes before she reconsidered assaulting him. Slowly turning on her heel, she offered a rather forced smile that no doubt seemed perfectly sweet with the aid of a small glamour. "And please ask them to turn that noise down, I'd rather my neighbours did not hate me before I'd even made it into the building." That and she wasn't going to ask them herself. The fewer of these men she had to speak to, the better. "One more thing--if you don't mind me asking," her tone heavily suggested he had no choice over providing an answer, "How, exactly, did you get in?" The man rummaged through his back pocket and produced a set of keys identical to her own. They were immediately taken from him.
"Right, uh," he shifted awkwardly. Her attitude clearly was not expected. "I was just going to ask--Do you know how much longer the landscapers will be here? See, the bed and sofas don't fit through the doors. They got to go in through one of the upstairs windows, yeah? And it's round the ba--"
"Landscapers?" She stared at him incredulously. What in God's name was her mother thinking? And, as it turned out, the glorified gardeners were really rather uncooperative.
"But the pond is a wonderful feature!"
Madeleine glared at the woman from across the miniature lake the Myers family had had put into their--hers now--garden. "I said. Get. Rid. Of it." If it was a battle of wills Little Miss Green-Thumb was after, she was attempting it with the wrong woman. "Now."
"But--" The woman cut herself off, apparently trying to think around her argument. "There isn't enough earth to fill it in. It's twelve feet deep at the centre!"
"Measured it, have you?"
"Yes."
Arms folding across her chest, the elemental remained unmoved. "You do know what a cement-mixer is, don't you." Not a question.
The gardener was horrified. "You can't do that, it's filled with fish!"
"Well, true. I can't, but I can hire someone else to do it." Her 'think of the fishies!' angle really wasn't going to make a difference. In fact, to illustrate just how much that pond was getting the hell out of her garden, Madeleine braved the indomitable wall of probably-vanilla workmen to find bleach.
Madeleine -- 1
Fish -- 0
The landscapers left. Probably to complain to an animal rights organisation over her treatment of giant goldfish.