The weekly phone call (RAN)

[JORDAN H. COOPER]

Jordan was sitting at a table with her legs crossed. She had tears streaming down her cheeks and she was thankful that nobody else was around. She had her phone pressed to her ear as she listened to her dad rant on about how she would never be succecful in life and blah, blah, blah. It really got to her after a while and she coped with it through making bird houses. So right now she was making one as she listened to her dad.

"Yeah dad,"

[/color] she whsipered as she continued gluing together the pices. "Mhm,"[/color] she said almost dropping the phone trying to keep the bird house from falling. "Dad I have to go,"[/color] she said quickly. "Because I actually want to do something with my life rather then be a mayor who doesn't even know how to be a mayor!"[/color] she snapped hanging up the phone.

She stared at the bird house for a long moment and sighed resting her head on the table. "He'll see,"[/color] she whispered quietly. She sat like that for a few long moments before she looked up and continued putting together the bird house. Once she was done she picked it up and examined it closer. The tears were streaming down her cheeks still but she didn't exactly notice it or anything or anyone else in the room right now. She just couldn't wait till she could get him out of her head. Until next week when he called for his weekly "you'll never make it in the real world" rant and she'll cry, again and add another bird house to her wall of bird houses.

Thats when she thought she heard someone enter. She raised her head and looked around. "Hello? Is anyone there?"[/color] she called hiding the tears in her voice and acting like her usual happy self.
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[AMADEO SILVIUS ROBESPIERRE]

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Scrubbing the already polished doors and washing the fine linen were only the most basic of basics of a butler’s job. It was just a small corner somewhere in a whole avalanche of talents labelled “housekeeping”. Tedious as it may seem, it really wasn’t. It was only deemed tedious because of the repetitive motion of it all: shake, spray, wipe, shine, and again and again. Some butlers knew this, but because of the lack of “excitement” in this branch of the job, often left it to the janitors and maids, or whoever they could sucker into the job. Little did they understand that this was supposed to be their job. In ancient times – or maybe around the nineteenth of twentieth century – the butler of a mansion was in charge of the whole house and staff, so that meant housekeeping was one of their duties. The butlers here, in his opinion, were rather spoiled and lazy, preferring to flirt with their ladies, make them crazy and whatnot, than do something as menial as this. A bunch of slackers they were; he often wondered why they hadn’t been fired yet (although he could deduce that it had something to do with the lady bribing her way so as not to get her “favourite” butler kicked out, no matter how incompetent he was).

Amadeo was one of those rare (and maybe insane?) butlers that actually saw housekeeping as one of his main obligations, aside from serving the lady, of course. This was why he’d now found himself scrubbing tables and polishing doors and dusting the bookshelves in this large school. He’d found himself wandering from the second floor from room to room to clean whatever he could get his hands on. He would sigh to himself every now and again from the lack of maintenance in this so-called “high-class” school. Really, where did all the money go? Did they assume that just because there was a large amount of butlers that the school would clean itself? How naive, really. Ah, but there was nothing that could be done, in his opinion. He could complain, but he was only one class F butler above so many incompetent class A’s, B’s and C’s that even a fool would know that it would be futile to protest. The only thing he could do was make up for those slackers’ mistakes, and do something he enjoyed somewhat. After all, his butler life wouldn’t be complete without some chores, would it?

Somehow soon, Amadeo found himself walking towards the lounge with a pail of water in one hand and a mop in the other. He’d had his outer black tailcoat slung on his shoulder, the white, long-sleeved shirt the only thing covering him up, save from the black dress pants that always seemed to accompany his attire. Before he’d set foot in the room however, a strange noise could be heard from the room. It sounded like sniffling, whimpering almost. It didn’t take him long to figure out that it was a lady, in one of the highest moments of her life (he rolled his eyes), the painful part. Really, couldn’t they just hold it in and not cry? Ladies seemed to do that way too much, and sometimes it would annoy him. But being the good butler that he was, he merely put a fake smile on his face and approached her silently from behind, dropping the pail and mop softly on the floor. Pulling out a white tissue from his breast pocket, he reached over from behind her and began dabbing her tears, his voice dangerously low, seductive, and empathetic. “My, my. It’s not very lady-like to cry in public like this... my Lady.”

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tag ; ; olivia!
words ; ; 618
muse ; ; pretty good~
music ; ; none
comments ; ; I hope this is good ^.^!

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[JORDAN H. COOPER]

Jordan didn't even hear someone come in. By now she was deep in thought. Well more of a memory actually. She simply stared at that bird house and dove head first into that memory.

She was sitting at her desk writing one of her many five page eassays. This particular one was a persuasive eassay about technology in class rooms and how it is effecting tomorrows work force. She was of coarse apposing it.

She was working really hard on it and could see it when she was re-reading it every time she finished a sentence to see how it flowed together. She loved it. She wanted to get a second opinion but she wasn't exactly sure who. She could go and find the cook and read it to him but he was busy. Perhaps someone else? A friend? Nope. She doesn't have many friends. In fact none. School, clubs, and home. That was her daily schedule.

She shrugged it off and decided that it was fine. She wasn't a great writer but she had the skill to get a decent grade. A- was a good grade but with her father constently babbling about how dumb she is and how she'll never make it in the real world brought her down. She wanted to do 100% and some day she could make it. Right?

She looked at that guard dog that walked in and she smiled at it. She greeted the dog and began reading to it. When she looked up she noticed that the dog was asleep. She laughed slightly. "It must be really good then." she said sarcastically. It was too late to turn back now though. It was due tomorow.

Thats when her father walked in and began his speech about how she'd never make it in the real world. Yeah, repeted a lot. Maybe he should get a new speech. It lasted on for a few... minutes that fell felt more like hours. What was it over this time? The letter he got from the school saying she has an unexcused absence. She hasn't missed a day of school. It was just a glitch but he believed the computer.

Her memory was inturupted when she heard a voice. She must have zoned out for a while. "Sorry,"

[/color] she said blinking a few times rubbing her head. "I could have chosen my location for building my bird house a little more carefully."[/color] she said glancing at her bird house that she had compleated.
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[AMADEO SILVIUS ROBESPIERRE]

“A wise man once said, emotion is flaw of being a human being. Crying like this? It shows you’re soft; weakness,” he whispered, an innocent smile on his lips despite the fact that his words were not nice in the least. In fact, if anything, they were meant to insult and play on the lady’s emotions. If he knew anything, it was that wounds hurt the most if they were struck when they were fresh, and it seemed very much that this lady’s crying had started only recently. It was indicated by the fresh tears on her eyes, as well as her absentmindedness to the whole situation, going so far as not being able to enter his entry into the room (although he had entered in a rather sneaky manner). Well, at least she wasn’t completely stupid, Amadeo thought with disdain. At least she had enough sense to be pulled out of her daze and still understand the words he had just said. Had she completely ignored him, he would have just left her here. After all, playing with a dead person wasn’t much fun, now was it? It was much more interesting to play with something that could feel pain and react to said pain.

Standing up straight, Amadeo walked over to the front of the lady, eyeing her creation with a certain hint of curiosity. “Certain” meant with little to none, because her creation (was it really a birdhouse? he never would have guessed) held nothing special, nor did it look particularly beautiful to him. But being the high class butler that he was, he certainly wasn’t about to say this to the lady. He knew much better than that. Insulting a lady outright was a personality flaw that only lower class butlers committed, which he certainly was not. Although one could argue that he also insulted ladies, he would debate that he did so in a roundabout manner, so it could easily leave room for misinterpretation. Such was his game, after all.

The butler knelt in front of the lady, his eyes betraying concern over her well-being. Reaching out once more to dab the tears in her eyes, he bowed his head. “I apologize for the intrusion, miss. My name is Amadeo Robespierre, a butler here at Stella Fiore Academy. I don’t believe we’ve met.

[/color]” He raised his head, his own eyes meeting hers. “Is there anything I may do for you today?[/color]” he asked blatantly, although he knew full well that there might have been something, seeing as how she was crying, for Pete’s sake. But it was his way of getting her to tell him what was wrong, which he could then use later for his own advantage. Ah, what a fun game.
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[JORDAN H. COOPER]

Okay that hurt. Jordan didn't like not be accepted. When it was people who were friends or just a random person then it hurt. But when it was family she cried. She didn't do much to defend herself from her fathers mental abuse. But when it was from a stranger she had no trouble responding. "Some people consider emotions good."

[/color] she said simply. "And I'm not usually like this. My dad just called is all."[/color] she added. She didn't expect him to know anything about what her father said and she didn't exactly plan to tell him.

She looked back at the bird house tempted to grab it and hide it. She built them to cope with her father. But really the only people that saw her bird houses were the birds when she hung them up in trees for them. She reached over to it making minor ajustmants to it. When she first started to make bird houses they looked pretty bad but over the weeks they got better. And she still saw places to improve on. "Do you want it?"[/color] She asked looking at him. "I'm not sure where I would put it. I already put so many up in the trees and my shelf is full of them."[/color]

"It's nice to meet you sir," She said politly. "My name is Jordan Cooper"[/color] she added. She thought about it for a moment and really couldn't think of anything. "I don't think so."[/color] she thought about it some more. "I was just about to go and study in my dorm."[/color] She noticed the mop and bucket. "Do you want help?"[/color] she asked.
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[AMADEO SILVIUS ROBESPIERRE]

Were his words considered “mean”? Tactless? Disgraceful? Inconsiderate? Ah, they probably were, but to one as such as him, such negative adjectives held no bearings. He cared not for what others thought of him, because he had been shaped into who he was today by those very same people who mocked him in his childhood. One could even say that this was revenge, the spawning of a devil-man in order to be able to avenge his ruined past, come back to haunt those who had ever dared cross him. Ah, he was getting too into this; it sounded more of a horror story than reality now. “I beg to disagree, my Lady. They do nothing but weigh you down when it counts the most.” He smiled, his sly eyes never leaving hers as he awaited her reaction.

Her dad, then, was it? Then that could easily explain the state he’d found her in. Parents, after all, weren’t always the most agreeable beings in the world. So many children were blessed to have those rare “nice” parents, but rarely did they appreciate them, until they were taken away one day. Sad to say, this situation applied directly to him. “Oh, your father. Did he have any business with you? Ah, but if it is personal, there is no need for you to tell me. What’s yours is yours, after all.

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Amadeo watched as she fiddled with her creation that only she could possibly love (really, was that a birdhouse?). It took almost all he had to prevent himself from shying away, repulsed at the thing. It didn’t help, either, when she offered it to him. But being the usual respectful class F butler he was, he had to be nice, no matter what it would cost him. “It’s quite fine. If you want me to, I will take it with all my best graces.[/color]”

“Lady Cooper, it is then[/color],” he replied, his eyes smiling and amused at how easy the conversation seemed to flow. “No, no, this is my job. For what would a butler be if the lady did his job for him?[/color]” He chuckled, wiping the last of her tears on his napkin, before proceeding to stuff it back into his breast pocket. “However, if you wish, I shall accompany you to your dorm.[/color]
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