Matters of importance-- [AMADEO]

[CAMELLIA BAMBI MORETTI]

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"This is not funny", Bambino mumbled softly to herself, bringing her knees in closer, making them press against her chest, and torso, and at the same time, pulling her dress over her legs as far as the fabric would allow it, trying to make herself as small as possible on the bench she was seated on. "This is not funny, and as soon as I find out who's the cause of this-- this monstrosity, they are going to get my foot up their-- It's still moving." At her last three words, Camellia's tone grew considerably in volume, and pitch, bringing her hushed murmuring to an almost frightened shriek. Panicking, the blond pulled her (only remaining) shoe off, and threw it at the offending...creature, gulping a little as it missed horribly, and the insect continued struggling toward her.

Camellia swore it looked her in the eye and hissed, before continuing it's crippled path towards her. Earlier (roughly thirty minutes or so) on, Bambino had spotted the little fuzz-coated, multi-legged (one of her most hated combinations on bugs) creature, and promptly peeled off her left shoe, throwing it at the bug, with the malicious intent of killing it. While her small, fashionable flat had made impact with the insect, and while she had thought it dead, that was evidently not the case. Bambino had, apperantly, just injured the thing to a great extent, and pissed it off beyond belief (and she couldn't really blame the bug, really; if someone had tried to kill her, and failed, just to leave her horribly disfigured and crippled, she would be angry, too!), shown by the way the insect was struggling towards her.

"I swear, I'm going to kill you." Bambi threatened, pretty eyes narrowed threatingly at the bug, and for a second, it slowed, as if processing the risk of approaching the tense blond. But when that second passed, the vermin continued toward her, at an even faster pace, and Bambino let out a strangled mewl, scooting away from the pest, as it got closer to the bench. "The Moretti are going to obliterate you, and your family."

Some little part in her was ashamed of her own actions; The highly-respected daughter (or at least, one of them) of the Moretti head was threatening a bug with mafia force. Truth be told, though, really, a much larger part of her being was currently roaring at her to show this pest's place, and to go on doing so in anyway possible. That larger being was the reason why she currently glaring daggers at the thing, focusing all her negative, angry emotions to the ever-slowing pest, hoping to make it combust into flames.

Bambi was so focused on trying to mentally mutilate the bug that she didn't notice someone was approaching her until she hear the snapping of a twig crunching underneath their foot. Twisting around, so that she could at least, see the oncoming person through her peripheral vision, Bambino forgot about the insect (who took this distraction to inch closer to the blond, without her knowing) focusing on the incomer.

"Who're you?" She managed to ask, tone curt, and tense, and unintentionally stand-offish; the little stand-off she just had (and still having, apperantly, according to the way the bug was still heading towards Bambino) strained her fragile, and rather explosive temper to it's pushing point...[/size]

[AMADEO SILVIUS ROBESPIERRE]

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Ah, gardening. A truly enjoyable and relaxing hobby to be sure. It was one of the only few things that could completely calm him down, and help him enter into that serene state of which one could call “nirvana”, or the “enlightenment”. That state of peace where one would be totally free of all worldly worries with no emotional attachment whatsoever to materialistic things. Some would say this was impossible to achieve, the state of nothingness and everything at the same time. However, Amadeo would beg to differ. No matter how simplistic it seemed, gardening was truly the one “chore” that would forcefully place him in that state. He would be lost to the world; you might try to talk to him and be right beside him and he’d go on working and ignoring you. You could even be yelling at him for no reason, or scolding him, but once he was in that trance-like state, it would be close to impossible to pull him from it. There were only three possibilities. One was to forcefully hit him or shake him, which really, wasn’t a good idea (he loathed being touched, especially in a hostile manner). Another was to disrupt him in mid-work, like plucking the flowers of his hand that he was to plant. Again, not the best idea, unless you were totally a masochistic person who enjoyed being hurt. The last way would be the best way, although the most difficult to achieve. Simply put, all you had to do was create a scene so outrageous (funny, disgusting, angering, depressing) that he’d have no choice but to look at you.

Now the male was truly in this state at the moment. He was dressed in the usual butler ensemble, with the black pants and the white long-sleeved, collared blouse with a black necktie in the center. The sleeves were rolled up in a symmetrical way to avoid getting them stained by the soil. White gloves adorned the white, slender fingers at the end of the hands, made of fine cloth that would satisfy any gardener’s needs. The usual arrangement of his clothes was thrown off by lack of his black tail-coat. He’d hung it on a nearby tree, because it would only be hassle trying to roll those sleeves up, not to mention it was about a hundred degrees out. Sighing contentedly, Amadeo carefully trimmed the edges of a flower, carefully incising some of the more wilted parts in order to ensure that the rest of it was still able to grow. He did this for a few more flowers, all of which took twenty minutes, before he stood up and patted his hands together, a smile of satisfaction on his face.

It was when he was admiring his work silently when he heard a voice in the vicinity, almost a sort of whimpering, scared. A female voice no doubt, but what compelled him to approach the voice was the utter terror instilled in it. With questions in his eyes, the regal man made his way towards the source of the noise. He crept silently towards the blonde-haired female, her hair’s glint caught in his eyes, matching the color of the sun. But apparently, Amadeo was correct in choosing his career as a butler, because “assassin” would have been immediately rooted out as he stepped on a branch that had been lying nearby. So much for stealth.

As was expected, this low noise was heard by the female who was just a few feet away, the sound discernible in the silence that was only broken momentarily at irregular frequencies by the birds that were chirping their merry songs. A blunt question was the first thing that left the female’s delicate lips, coated with curtness and slight tension, but seemingly not surprise. Knowing himself in the presence of a lady, he did not hesitate to reply. “Ah, my name is Amadeo Robespierre,” he said, bowing, his white gloved hand crossing his chest to the place around his heart, but not landing so as not to blemish the white long-sleeved coat with soil. A sly smile played on the man’s lips as he took in the lady’s position and tense rigidity – a universal sign of fear. But what was she afraid of? Crimson eyes scanned the vicinity and found no possible perpetrators. Was she hallucinating or something? “Pardon me, my lady. But I may I inquire as to two things?

[/color]” He paused, walking closer to her as he kept his own red orbs on hers. “What is your name, and for what reason are you in such an... undesirable position?[/color]”[/color]
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tag ; ; kiko~ -snuggles-
words ; ; 770
muse ; ; pretty decent :3
music ; ; shawty like a melody
comments ; ; woot, here we go! when he sees the bug, prepare to be teased >D

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