[Jacinthe doesn't dare move until they're completely out of eyeshot--all of them, and their Pokemon. Themida has left the shard of the item her Pokemon broke on the table, and it's once they've left the garden entirely that Jacinthe walks over to the table, taking the shard in her hand and examining it.
If Corbeau takes a closer look...well, it's likely obvious what it is. A broken piece of a record, and given the way Jacinthe's expression dampens...]
...Why does she always find the irreplaceable ones...?
[Jacinthe shakes her head. She...she can focus on that later; she has so much to do now. Organize that party, dole out compensation to the party goers, her staff, and she still feels so damn tense and ready to burst and she wants to yell at the people who genuinely don't deserve it--
(The servants, as Corbeau will notice, are also taking quick leave; he can likely hear it a little bit as they talk. The newbies have to hide. They won't be able to take it if the young mistress gets a temper. Get ready for a long evening.)
Jacinthe doesn't go after them, though. Not yet, though the shaking in her posture and the way she looks at them briefly implies that it's still a consideration, because she's mad, she's so mad--but she stays calm in front of Corbeau at least, and...
Jacinthe bows her head, deeply; enough to expose the back of her neck to him, this time. Because he...]
...I wish you had listened to me, my dear friend. I would not have wanted you to see this, to see just what these people are capable of. But I...
I am deeply grateful, that you stepped in regardless. Thank you. I will ensure you are well compensated for this mess today, as well.
[Themida's words spark that familiar blinding fury that threatens to overtake even common sense - it took so damn much to stamp that out, to learn to put on a front and learn patience and self-restraint and he hates it just as much now as he did back when he was just a stupid kid who couldn't do a damn thing without getting his Pokémon involved. That kid would have blown up long ago; it's only a testament to Lysandre's own patience with him that he's been able to keep his cool for this long. But with each hateful word out of her mouth he grows closer and closer to saying fuck it and losing what remains of his composure. It won't be helpful. It won't end well for him or Jacinthe. It's that thought that stays his hand for just a little longer.
And thankfully, "just a little longer" is all he needs. Rusco cuts in, and whether his words are for their own sake or some sort of mercy hardly matters - either way, they're leaving. Corbeau tries (and fails) to school his expression into something more neutral, but the anger can't quite leave him. He remains still, coiled tight like a Seviper ready to strike until they're out of range. He remains perfectly still even as the servants begin to take their leave, whispering a bit too loudly about what comes next. For them, this is just the start of things, after all.
And then there's Jacinthe. His eyes finally flick to the broken piece of (a record?) something on the table, then to her before he finally forces himself to relax, bit by bit.
(But that fury hasn't quelled even the slightest. He wants to break something. Maybe hit something so damn hard he injures himself, because it's easier to tend to a physical wound than an emotional one.)]
Sorry I couldn't do more for you. I underestimated just how awful they'd be.
[There's absolutely no sugar-coating it, because they are awful. He's not going to keep censoring himself around her. Corbeau sighs and rubs the back of his neck, eyes drifting to some point on the wall.]
...I know it's a stupid question, but are you going to be okay after all of that?
Please don't blame yourself, my dear friend. The fact that you did anything at all means so very much to me. I've...
I've never truly had anyone in my corner like that before, in dealing with their awful attitudes. You protected me, even from something outside of the scope of our deal. That alone is more than I could ever ask.
[If she cares about him not censoring itself, it isn't obvious in the slightest. She looks positively drained after that, not even managing her usual smiling mask. It's a lot, to trust someone with this tired expression, and it occurs to her that she never usually even let Lebanne see her like this. It was a matter of pride, a matter of not even having the tools to be able to process it outside of screaming at the servants and dealing with their inevitable resignations the next day, but--
Jacinthe looks at Corbeau, and even if she's not necessarily good at this...he dealt with the brunt of her parent's scorn, and that alone has shot her trust in him further up than she could have imagined.
It's why she offers her hand in return, if a little hesitantly--it feels weird to do so (usually such a gesture has implications to it), but he did it first. Maybe it's a common gesture, among people who need support? Maybe it can convey the message that she needs (wants) to send to him.
You're not alone. I want to help, even if I don't know how, because you helped me.]
...In all truth, I am not entirely certain. I'm furious with how they treated you; even beyond what is expected within high society, the fact that they would continually disrespect you is uncouth beyond belief. And that is to say nothing of my own fury with them...
[...]
Will you come with me to my office, my friend? Perhaps some...reprieve is in order, though I do need to work on getting matters sorted with all of these different affairs. And...
I do not believe either of us should be alone, at this time.
[With their thoughts. With their anxieties and anger and pain, even if Corbeau hides his well, she can only imagine he's as furious as she is. She's still being a little aggressively herself about this, but at least this time, she's asking him rather than dragging him. Offering her hand, rather than just taking his; even if it's just mimicing his actions like a mirror that can't follow it's own reflection.]
[Yeah. Corbeau can imagine how things have gone in the past. Either Lebanne hasn't been around for these meetings (sent away by Jacinthe, most likely) or she's been unable to do anything to help during them. From what little he's seen of the woman, she does try to look out for Jacinthe in her own way, but there's only so much someone can do in the face of her parents. It's easier for him, someone who (hopefully) won't be dealing with them much to take their focus away from Jacinthe for just a little while, than for someone like Lebanne who most likely will have to see them more often in the future.
Usually, he'd write it off as just a part of the deal. No sense in letting anyone else see his weak spots. But there's hardly a point in that today. Corbeau exhales and pushes his glasses up.]
I couldn't stand to see them disrespecting you like that. It'd be one thing if it was just their rigid views on the world, but treating you like a tool instead of a person...
[He trails off. He understands it. Not because he was treated as such - he's been damn lucky that he hasn't been - but from being in a position of power where it's just so damn easy to use people for what they're worth and discard them if they're worthless. He hates how easily he can see their point of view, and how they reached that conclusion, because they have power and wealth - why would they need to form genuine connections with anyone else? Why open themselves up to the possibility of someone using that against them?
Corbeau can see where they're coming from, and he hates that he kind of gets it.]
...Yeah. I didn't have any plans of leaving you alone after all of that. Your office is as good a place as any.
[She offers a hand, and offers reprieve, even though he's not really sure anything will help dull the anger right now. The important thing is making sure that she's well enough after that mess. It's... strange. Jacinthe usually doesn't ask. She really must be thankful for his help today if she's being courteous about this. Or maybe it's just the start reminder of how the elite should be... though that seems less likely.
Corbeau takes her offered hand, giving it a squeeze. Reassurance in physical form. But he lets go soon after, moving over to the table before they depart to pick up the shattered record piece.]
[Jacinthe's gaze averts at that, all of it (he's probably protecting the staff, at least in part. part of her is thankful, and part of her isn't); it's not like she doesn't disagree, but she's more than a little biased and not in the direction one would like. This is all she's ever really known. Living the way her parents want her to, so rigidly and just so up until they finally gave her a space of her own that truly isn't hers. So she sort of gets it. In about as much as Jacinthe can have empathy, anyway.
(The squeeze is nice though, she notes.)
Jacinthe watches him pick up that shattered record piece, though, as she leads the way to the office; it's thankfully not very far from the garden.]
...My parents are not very fond of the few interests I have that do not involve battling, all be told. I've been told many a time that it's unladylike, and a waste of money to collect so many things. Records are one of my favorite things to collect, truth be told; be they modern reproductions, or my favored, classics from years long past us. The music of that time period is simply magnificent, to me, full bodied and soulful...
I usually keep them in my boudoir, because the sun can't reach them that way. They melt in the heat all too easily, and well...I spend my own money that I earn from the Z-A Royale on this and other interests of mine. But they do not like that; I have to hide them when they come over, scattering them in obscure hiding places.
[...]
...It is at least part of the reason why Mother sends her Pokemon to go looking around the demeure; both to keep track of how clean it is, and scold me if they find any. And it's...entirely the reason why Father brought up cleaning my room, as well.
[The office is thankfully right beyond this door; a large window overlooks the back part of the house, including the family's expansive garden and statues and fountains and the like. The sun illuminates the surprisingly dark wooded room, and there's paperwork on her desk to go through.
Feel free to look around; her first stop, though, is the closet. It has three different locks on it that she keeps what would be a Klefki's dream amount of keys on, opening it carefully and smiling when she finds her phonograph and some of her more common records have made it through unscathed. And perhaps even moreso--]
Oh! I forgot I had Gardevoir move this in here--what luck!
[...If Corbeau wants to look, it...looks like an aged barrel from Dendemille, a more rural town, actually. And a large one at that, with a nozzle on it; it has her own hand writing that implies she's had something inside for about two years.]
[Right when he's starting to think they can't be any worse, they prove themselves to be much worse. What, is he expected to believe that they don't have hobbies besides battling? Why isn't Jacinthe allowed that? He already knows the answer: because then she won't be a puppet on a string, pursuing things that her parents didn't approve of.
It earns a soft tch from him and he carefully sets the remaining piece down on the desk.]
Next time they decide to pay a visit, let me know. I'll hold onto anything you want to keep safe until they're gone.
[His office is nice and spacious, but there's also plenty of other places throughout the city that the Rust Syndicate can use to temporarily store some things. She shouldn't have to hide her hobbies, but given that this place is apparently not even hers, she may as well keep her belongings safe whenever they do come pay a visit. It's not like they can scour every inch of Lumiose to try to find their daughter's things.
And given how tightly she's locked that door, it seems that it's only a matter of time before this whole thing comes to a head. Either her parents get fed up with her locking things away or they simply break down the lock and smash everything anyway. Though as Corbeau glances over her shoulder at the things contained within, he finds himself raising his eyebrows.]
What's that? Not exactly your record-collecting hobby, huh?
[She's honestly a little struck that he'd even offer, but...Jacinthe smiles, and there's a bit of that chipperness setting back in with her. But that smile seems warmer, somehow, than her usual mask.
But she'll turn right to Corbeau, actually, and oh do her eyes sparkle--]
Haha! My friend, you would indeed be correct! [Give her a second to go through her records here, she's gonna find one to play while she works--] This is another hobby I decided to take up on a whim since I developed a taste for such things, but I wanted to try my hand at making my own whiskey to pass the time! You can get these barrels relatively cheap by Amberette's harbor, but I've been going down there for years now to get fresh ones!
Edited (mixed up town names) 2025-10-26 01:07 (UTC)
[Her smile seems... genuine. More than it usually does, though it isn't as though her usual smiles seem faked any. There's at least some genuine gratitude, he thinks. Then she continues and Corbeau blinks, studying the label again curiously.]
Music I can see, but whiskey? Definitely not what I was expecting. [And maybe a bit more understandable why her parents wouldn't approve.] Philippe's fond of bringing something new to try every so often, though most of it usually isn't to my preference.
[Philippe has fancy tastes. Corbeau does not. Just give him a glass of whiskey and he'll be fine, but Philippe likes to be experimental. Some of the hideous combinations of drinks they have had in that office should be considered war crimes.]
I didn't expect it either, all be told! I simply thought for the longest time that drinking alcohol was a hobby that most people suffered through for the benefit of not remembering the next morning, or merely out of politeness!
And then I tried something other than the nasty swill they serve at the noble parties. Nothing but nasty, rancid grape water at those.
[Jacinthe sticks out her tongue for emphasis, making a face. It's disgusting!! Who willingly subjects themselves to that!!!
Still, when Corbeau brings up Phillipe, Jacinthe looks over as she tries to imagine that; she finds herself smiling just a touch at the thought.]
Is he more of a wine type of person? Perhaps vodka? I know those types tend to get rather experimental; not that I haven't myself, but the most I've tried so far is purchasing an Alolan rum barrel. It's said to impart a fruit-like sweetness, but I won't know for at least another year and a half how it tastes ideally...
[But ah, she's rambling. She's...used to selfishly talking over others and not really listening, but something in her is curious tonight, as she goes to get her phonograph set up and playing some swing, which seems to ease Jacinthe just a little bit already. Now let her go see if she's got some glasses here...]
Oh, but never mind that. What sort of things does he like to bring you?
Hah, didn't think we'd be agreeing on something like this, but you're right.
[Her questions about Philippe get an exasperated (but fond) sigh and Corbeau lifts his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.]
He likes everything, and he's very fond of finding new combinations of drinks. Although I'm starting to suspect that he just likes to see what hideous things he can inflict on me and what strange faces I make in response. Vodka is his favorite, yes, but that man will drink anything - especially if you tell him it's horrid.
[He suffers so, so, so much, Jacinthe. This is absolutely bullying.]
The last one was actually acceptable, perhaps to make up for the fact that I still haven't forgiven him for inflicting peppermint vodka on me during last year's holiday party.
[Jacinthe can't help but grin at that, though she listens to Corbeau and him talk about Phillipe; he's rather fond of the man, that much is obvious. But it's not in the same way that she had been fond of Lebanne, she thinks. No, Lebanne wouldn't even think of bringing something undesirable to her lady just to see her reaction. This is...
She wonders, if this is what a genuine friendship is like. Bullying, but he doesn't even sound that put out by it; sure Corbeau is suffering, but it seems to be with love, perhaps.]
Oh, dear... [And then Corbeau mentions that and Jacinthe makes a damn face. Eugh.] Oh, that sounds like a terrible experience! Vodka already burns enough going down the throat, it doesn't need the assistance! There's seasonally appropriate, and then there's burning off your tastebuds...
You must have fun with it, though--I imagine the times that he manages to find something that works makes it all the more worthwhile! [She doubts Corbeau would let him get away with it if he wasn't at least a little curious. It makes her smile--and there's those glasses, perfect! Let her grab out...actually...] Will you tell me about some of the ones he's inflicted on you, once I get back? I have to go grab my whiskey stones from the freezer, but I should not be too long.
Please, let me get something to drink for you as well? I know not if alcohol will help you in a similar manner that it does me when stressed, so I can get you something else as well, if desired!
[See, you get it. Philippe inflicts so much suffering on him.]
Definitely not worth it, no matter how festive you're feeling.
[UGH. But she grabs some glasses and a smirk tugs on the corners of Corbeau's mouth.]
Sure. I could use a drink after today's events.
[To say the least... He was fine going without, but damn it'll help relax him. He's still a little too wound up, a little too angry to properly settle down. A drink (or two, or more) will take the edge off.]
May as well bring some water along too; no sense getting too carried away.
[He needs to remain sober, at least. Corbeau wouldn't exactly be a very good bodyguard otherwise!!]
[Jacinthe can't help but chuckle at that, hiding it behind her hand--it doesn't dampen the brightness of it any, but she's definitely delighted.]
Consider it done! ...Though I do confess, I tend not to feel anything until at least the fifth or sixth glass nowadays. I trust my dearest bodyguard will ensure that I don't go that far, at least!
[girl you are implying that you can drink at least half of lumiose under the table like that--
Anyway, with that...probably a little sad if you think about it too much statement made, Jacinthe will dart off to go grab everything needed for this! She doesn't know how Corbeau prefers his, but she elects to grab both ice cubes and the stones, in case he is one who needs his diluted. And a few glasses and a pitcher of ice water...
She passes by some of the servants along the way, waving them off when they ask her if she needs help; she outright tells them to take the rest of the night off cleaning, and they're...shocked, to say the least. Huh.
But! There are a couple comfortable chairs in here if Corbeau wants to sit down, along with a couch near the big desk; there's some bookshelves in there too, though most of the books are on battling history and styles and the like. ...There are a few alcohol books if he wants to read them at least that Jacinthe has snuck between some of the stuff that's not hers, but--
Jacinthe comes back in easily, setting everything out and up on the side of the desk closest to where Corbeau is; pitcher of ice water, two glasses for that, and some ice along with the stones. She'll sashay right over to the barrel to the beat of the music playing, clearly enjoying herself while she gets their first round going.]
Here you are, my dear friend! [She'll go over and take her seat at the desk itself, already taking a nice, long sip out of hers before letting herself sink into the chair a touch.] That's much better...
Anyway, he does explore while she's out, picking out and flipping through a few of those battling books. They're not exactly surprising - and are written in the hoity-toity, uppity way he was expecting - but it's not like it takes Jacinthe long to return. Good that she gets to keep some books about her interests, anyway.
Corbeau accepts the glass, taking one of the chairs nearby as he takes a long sip as well. He inclines his head a bit in consideration before drinking more. Definitely not enough to get buzzed, though the idea is damn tempting.]
You've got good taste - but I'm sure you already know that. [Heh.] Do you usually drink with Lebanne?
[Or is this a solo hobby... Actually, that's kind of depressing, now that he thinks about it.]
[Jacinthe can't help but beam a little bit with pride when he says that.]
Even so, hearing it outright means that I am doing something right, my dear friend! [Especially from him; he's not inclined to bullshit her.] But ah...no, I usually do this on my own, truthfully. I'll usually set myself up in the boudoir and put on a record; sometimes with one of my Pokemon to keep me company, but usually by myself. If I do drink with Lebanne, I usually partake in a beer or two with her; this is more for...comfort, I suppose.
It is not a terrible way to pass the time, but I've fallen asleep on the chaise more times than I can count!
[...let's not think about that too hard--]
So, please, tell me more about what Mr. Phillipe has inflicted upon you. You said he's rather fond of...combinations, was it? I'm assuming it's more than a standard cocktail.
Edited (eh i wrote this at 7am but fuck it lebanne can have her own drinking time (also i misread)) 2025-10-26 20:51 (UTC)
[Ah, so it is the depressing option... Unfortunate, but not unexpected, really.]
I hope you're not drinking too much during those evenings, otherwise you should always have a Pokémon out with you.
[Especially someone like Gardevoir who can use her psychic powers to ask for help if needed. Not that he imagines Jacinthe would let it get to that point in the first place, but there's no telling what kind of stupidity will happen when you're drunk, so.]
But yeah, you're right. He started out with that, back when I first took over the Rust Syndicate. Over time it's transformed into something else entirely, though. [Corbeau sighs, taking another long drink.] The day he brought three different types of rum to my office to combine and try was years ago now. It's been downhill ever since.
[And she is just going to leap frog right over that because she is not about to get scolded--
But Jacinthe will gladly listen to Corbeau when he brings that up, and she can't help but smile just a bit at that, though she does chuckle a bit as she drains her first drink. Back to the barrel for some more!]
Oh, my...I can certainly imagine the nasty hangover that must have given you. Rum tends to be quite unforgiving, in my experience. Phillipe certainly sounds like quite the card! [And refill secured! Back to dealing with all of this damn paperwork, good lord--] Has he ever managed to rope any of the rest of the Rust Syndicate into it, or is that merely an honor reserved for you, dear friend?
[You can't just tell him something worrying and expect him not to worry??? But fine, let's just move on.]
He'll occasionally bring drinks for everyone - particularly if we're celebrating something - but usually he's better behaved. Usually, he did inflict the peppermint vodka on them without warning.
[It was hilarious, and the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth says as much.]
But most of the time he prefers to use me as his test subject for whatever nonsense he's decided to bring in.
[Jacinthe listens while she finishes up divvying the compensation...or well, at least she tries. At this point when you have access to the kind of money your parents do, you just kind of put in random numbers and hope for the best??? She's not exactly good at math--
(...She inwardly hopes Corbeau never actually gets a look at her paperwork, for reasons that might be even worse and prove her even more of a nepo-baby--)
By the end of that, though, Jacinthe finds herself chuckling brightly, hiding it behind a hand while she takes a sip of her second round. Slower, this time.]
Well, I suppose if he had your reaction to go off of, then he absolutely needed to see the rest of the team suffer as well! Only fair, non? [Still, Jacinthe can't help but titter a bit, softer this time.] Perhaps I should set something similar up for the staff at some point...as long as word doesn't reach Mother and Father, they might enjoy it. Maybe.
But I really am glad to hear that you've had such wonderful times with him; they sound like wonderful memories. [...] I...hope that we do find him soon, so that you may continue to have those wonderful times.
[The record stops as if on cue, and Jacinthe goes to look at it. Usually she'd just get started again, but, well...]
[Why do you think he's perfectly content over here, not looking at it?? He doesn't need to see how much compensation money she's giving these people. It doesn't matter how much money he has now, it's barely a drop in the bucket compared to old money like that... and not to mention, he'll always have the mindset of a kid barely making ends meet. The Rust Syndicate's making money because he's damn good at budgeting. So he'd probably want to die seeing how much she's giving away on her parents' orders.
Anyway, the mood dampens a bit when she brings that up - it's been hard not to think about it this entire conversation, after all, and Corbeau takes another long sip from the glass.]
Yeah. Man's stronger than steel, I know he can get through anything. I just hope he's... [still alive] alright.
[It's been too long without word from him. If he was kidnapped, the demands would have been made by now. So it's not looking good.
Corbeau shakes his head as if to clear it as Jacinthe changes the subject. What music does he like?]
...A bit of everything, though I'll admit I have a fondness for classical.
[And really loud, obnoxious dubstep and metal but like, this is a little more suitable. It calls back fond memories of when he was younger, when Lysandre would play one of his favorites and Corbeau would hang on his every word. It's the only reason why he knows the classics at all; he certainly wouldn't have listened on his own, but Lysandre was there to slow him down, as usual. He learned so damn much from that man.
...He's not sure if this is really a better topic, come to think of it.]
[It...kind of hits Jacinthe, that she's at a loss for how to actually help; she's never really had to be the one to help someone else, really. Everything has always been at her beck and call, and her parents forced her to shove down everything else. Shove it down until it explodes, at people who don't deserve it, who only want to make their paycheck and live, and--
Jacinthe will go through her collection; she's not much of a classical girl herself, but she collects all sorts of genres because it feels nice to have them. To constantly have some variety, something new to listen to, because when the world is both in the palm of your hands and just out of reach, you crave new things, she finds. Crave them like a child craves candy, or a hug, or anything really.
[It's a nice choice; relaxing, though still not quite enough to quiet his thoughts. Maybe it's because it's been a hard day that he's falling back on thinking so much about his two nearest and dearest supporters.
Corbeau takes another long sip as he considers how to answer that. Team Flare - and Lysandre specifically - are still a touchy subject considering what happened five years ago. It's difficult to bring that man up in any context, let alone a positive one. But seeing him again, knowing he's still around—]
I was thinking of an old friend. He was the one who introduced me to classical music; I suppose it's a good night for missing people.
[He says it wryly, like it's supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, but that doesn't really turn it into a joke, now does it?]
Of course, I'm glad to help. I... [Jacinthe pauses a bit, unsure of how to respond briefly, but she manages to find her words eventually.] ...I'm afraid I do not know the first thing about genuinely helping others, much less...a genuine friend, I think.
But if something so small can help bring ease, then I am glad to do so.
[She takes another long sip at that, herself; time to give the servants some bonuses for today and dole out Corbeau's own compensation for that...
...]
I won't disagree with you, however. It is a good night for it. [She wants to demand, because it doesn't sound like a joke; it sounds like a mask. She wants to know him like he knows her because she feels so exposed after today, but forcing her way through just reminds her of them and--] I am here, however. If you would like to talk of him, or...any others.
[It occurs to him then that she really does want to help. That maybe she wants to even the score, so she doesn't feel as exposed and weak now that he knows the truth about her, but that she also wants to help, and she can't do that if she doesn't know what's wrong. It's surreal. Corbeau never thought he'd be in this sort of position to begin with, let alone with Jacinthe. He feels... vulnerable, despite the fact that he hasn't shared much of anything. Cornered, maybe.
(Scared, even.)
He shakes his head, dismissing those thoughts. It's fine because it has to be. It's fine because he's supposed to be her bodyguard, and he can't exactly do that if he's letting himself drown in his own feelings.]
I appreciate it, Jacinthe. Truly. [The offer at least, even though the rest leaves him feeling agitated in a way.] But it's fine, I was just feeling a bit nostalgic. Better stop before I start getting any sappier on you.
[He drains the last of his glass and pushes it away to indicate that he's done.]
[She wants to make him tell her. She wants to so damn badly, and for a brief moment she tenses as she considers it. It isn't fair. It isn't fair that he can know her so damn well, that he can hide his cards like this when she doesn't get a choice in the matter. Even after all of the times she tried to tell him to stay away, he still didn't listen, and it's--]
...That is more than a little unfair, you know. I didn't exactly have a choice in getting all sappy on you today.
[I want to return the favor. Even the score. I always get what I want and I want to actually help for once, so why won't you--
Her expression darkens a bit, and deep down she knows it isn't fair to let her temper flare like this. This is his personal life, and even if he's dealt with hers today, it's not like he wanted to have to deal with her parents. He just chose to, like the stubborn bastard he is, and she still doesn't know why he decided to do that.
Jacinthe can feel herself shaking again, her anger getting the best of her, and she just sort of huffs and turns away at first, draining the rest of her glass. She doesn't know why he seems to be getting agitated too, but she wants to leave. It's her office, she could tell him to, if he's just going to be stubborn and shut her out, and--]
All I want is to return the favor, when something is clearly wrong. Is that so wrong of me?
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sranks2025-10-22 06:33 pm
2/2
If Corbeau takes a closer look...well, it's likely obvious what it is. A broken piece of a record, and given the way Jacinthe's expression dampens...]
...Why does she always find the irreplaceable ones...?
[Jacinthe shakes her head. She...she can focus on that later; she has so much to do now. Organize that party, dole out compensation to the party goers, her staff, and she still feels so damn tense and ready to burst and she wants to yell at the people who genuinely don't deserve it--
(The servants, as Corbeau will notice, are also taking quick leave; he can likely hear it a little bit as they talk. The newbies have to hide. They won't be able to take it if the young mistress gets a temper. Get ready for a long evening.)
Jacinthe doesn't go after them, though. Not yet, though the shaking in her posture and the way she looks at them briefly implies that it's still a consideration, because she's mad, she's so mad--but she stays calm in front of Corbeau at least, and...
Jacinthe bows her head, deeply; enough to expose the back of her neck to him, this time. Because he...]
...I wish you had listened to me, my dear friend. I would not have wanted you to see this, to see just what these people are capable of. But I...
I am deeply grateful, that you stepped in regardless. Thank you. I will ensure you are well compensated for this mess today, as well.
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And thankfully, "just a little longer" is all he needs. Rusco cuts in, and whether his words are for their own sake or some sort of mercy hardly matters - either way, they're leaving. Corbeau tries (and fails) to school his expression into something more neutral, but the anger can't quite leave him. He remains still, coiled tight like a Seviper ready to strike until they're out of range. He remains perfectly still even as the servants begin to take their leave, whispering a bit too loudly about what comes next. For them, this is just the start of things, after all.
And then there's Jacinthe. His eyes finally flick to the broken piece of (a record?) something on the table, then to her before he finally forces himself to relax, bit by bit.
(But that fury hasn't quelled even the slightest. He wants to break something. Maybe hit something so damn hard he injures himself, because it's easier to tend to a physical wound than an emotional one.)]
Sorry I couldn't do more for you. I underestimated just how awful they'd be.
[There's absolutely no sugar-coating it, because they are awful. He's not going to keep censoring himself around her. Corbeau sighs and rubs the back of his neck, eyes drifting to some point on the wall.]
...I know it's a stupid question, but are you going to be okay after all of that?
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I've never truly had anyone in my corner like that before, in dealing with their awful attitudes. You protected me, even from something outside of the scope of our deal. That alone is more than I could ever ask.
[If she cares about him not censoring itself, it isn't obvious in the slightest. She looks positively drained after that, not even managing her usual smiling mask. It's a lot, to trust someone with this tired expression, and it occurs to her that she never usually even let Lebanne see her like this. It was a matter of pride, a matter of not even having the tools to be able to process it outside of screaming at the servants and dealing with their inevitable resignations the next day, but--
Jacinthe looks at Corbeau, and even if she's not necessarily good at this...he dealt with the brunt of her parent's scorn, and that alone has shot her trust in him further up than she could have imagined.
It's why she offers her hand in return, if a little hesitantly--it feels weird to do so (usually such a gesture has implications to it), but he did it first. Maybe it's a common gesture, among people who need support? Maybe it can convey the message that she needs (wants) to send to him.
You're not alone. I want to help, even if I don't know how, because you helped me.]
...In all truth, I am not entirely certain. I'm furious with how they treated you; even beyond what is expected within high society, the fact that they would continually disrespect you is uncouth beyond belief. And that is to say nothing of my own fury with them...
[...]
Will you come with me to my office, my friend? Perhaps some...reprieve is in order, though I do need to work on getting matters sorted with all of these different affairs. And...
I do not believe either of us should be alone, at this time.
[With their thoughts. With their anxieties and anger and pain, even if Corbeau hides his well, she can only imagine he's as furious as she is. She's still being a little aggressively herself about this, but at least this time, she's asking him rather than dragging him. Offering her hand, rather than just taking his; even if it's just mimicing his actions like a mirror that can't follow it's own reflection.]
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Usually, he'd write it off as just a part of the deal. No sense in letting anyone else see his weak spots. But there's hardly a point in that today. Corbeau exhales and pushes his glasses up.]
I couldn't stand to see them disrespecting you like that. It'd be one thing if it was just their rigid views on the world, but treating you like a tool instead of a person...
[He trails off. He understands it. Not because he was treated as such - he's been damn lucky that he hasn't been - but from being in a position of power where it's just so damn easy to use people for what they're worth and discard them if they're worthless. He hates how easily he can see their point of view, and how they reached that conclusion, because they have power and wealth - why would they need to form genuine connections with anyone else? Why open themselves up to the possibility of someone using that against them?
Corbeau can see where they're coming from, and he hates that he kind of gets it.]
...Yeah. I didn't have any plans of leaving you alone after all of that. Your office is as good a place as any.
[She offers a hand, and offers reprieve, even though he's not really sure anything will help dull the anger right now. The important thing is making sure that she's well enough after that mess. It's... strange. Jacinthe usually doesn't ask. She really must be thankful for his help today if she's being courteous about this. Or maybe it's just the start reminder of how the elite should be... though that seems less likely.
Corbeau takes her offered hand, giving it a squeeze. Reassurance in physical form. But he lets go soon after, moving over to the table before they depart to pick up the shattered record piece.]
You'll have to tell me about this as well.
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[Jacinthe's gaze averts at that, all of it (he's probably protecting the staff, at least in part. part of her is thankful, and part of her isn't); it's not like she doesn't disagree, but she's more than a little biased and not in the direction one would like. This is all she's ever really known. Living the way her parents want her to, so rigidly and just so up until they finally gave her a space of her own that truly isn't hers. So she sort of gets it. In about as much as Jacinthe can have empathy, anyway.
(The squeeze is nice though, she notes.)
Jacinthe watches him pick up that shattered record piece, though, as she leads the way to the office; it's thankfully not very far from the garden.]
...My parents are not very fond of the few interests I have that do not involve battling, all be told. I've been told many a time that it's unladylike, and a waste of money to collect so many things. Records are one of my favorite things to collect, truth be told; be they modern reproductions, or my favored, classics from years long past us. The music of that time period is simply magnificent, to me, full bodied and soulful...
I usually keep them in my boudoir, because the sun can't reach them that way. They melt in the heat all too easily, and well...I spend my own money that I earn from the Z-A Royale on this and other interests of mine. But they do not like that; I have to hide them when they come over, scattering them in obscure hiding places.
[...]
...It is at least part of the reason why Mother sends her Pokemon to go looking around the demeure; both to keep track of how clean it is, and scold me if they find any. And it's...entirely the reason why Father brought up cleaning my room, as well.
[The office is thankfully right beyond this door; a large window overlooks the back part of the house, including the family's expansive garden and statues and fountains and the like. The sun illuminates the surprisingly dark wooded room, and there's paperwork on her desk to go through.
Feel free to look around; her first stop, though, is the closet. It has three different locks on it that she keeps what would be a Klefki's dream amount of keys on, opening it carefully and smiling when she finds her phonograph and some of her more common records have made it through unscathed. And perhaps even moreso--]
Oh! I forgot I had Gardevoir move this in here--what luck!
[...If Corbeau wants to look, it...looks like an aged barrel from Dendemille, a more rural town, actually. And a large one at that, with a nozzle on it; it has her own hand writing that implies she's had something inside for about two years.]
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It earns a soft tch from him and he carefully sets the remaining piece down on the desk.]
Next time they decide to pay a visit, let me know. I'll hold onto anything you want to keep safe until they're gone.
[His office is nice and spacious, but there's also plenty of other places throughout the city that the Rust Syndicate can use to temporarily store some things. She shouldn't have to hide her hobbies, but given that this place is apparently not even hers, she may as well keep her belongings safe whenever they do come pay a visit. It's not like they can scour every inch of Lumiose to try to find their daughter's things.
And given how tightly she's locked that door, it seems that it's only a matter of time before this whole thing comes to a head. Either her parents get fed up with her locking things away or they simply break down the lock and smash everything anyway. Though as Corbeau glances over her shoulder at the things contained within, he finds himself raising his eyebrows.]
What's that? Not exactly your record-collecting hobby, huh?
[...Is that alcohol? Surely not.]
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[She's honestly a little struck that he'd even offer, but...Jacinthe smiles, and there's a bit of that chipperness setting back in with her. But that smile seems warmer, somehow, than her usual mask.
But she'll turn right to Corbeau, actually, and oh do her eyes sparkle--]
Haha! My friend, you would indeed be correct! [Give her a second to go through her records here, she's gonna find one to play while she works--] This is another hobby I decided to take up on a whim since I developed a taste for such things, but I wanted to try my hand at making my own whiskey to pass the time! You can get these barrels relatively cheap by Amberette's harbor, but I've been going down there for years now to get fresh ones!
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[Her smile seems... genuine. More than it usually does, though it isn't as though her usual smiles seem faked any. There's at least some genuine gratitude, he thinks. Then she continues and Corbeau blinks, studying the label again curiously.]
Music I can see, but whiskey? Definitely not what I was expecting. [And maybe a bit more understandable why her parents wouldn't approve.] Philippe's fond of bringing something new to try every so often, though most of it usually isn't to my preference.
[Philippe has fancy tastes. Corbeau does not. Just give him a glass of whiskey and he'll be fine, but Philippe likes to be experimental. Some of the hideous combinations of drinks they have had in that office should be considered war crimes.]
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And then I tried something other than the nasty swill they serve at the noble parties. Nothing but nasty, rancid grape water at those.
[Jacinthe sticks out her tongue for emphasis, making a face. It's disgusting!! Who willingly subjects themselves to that!!!
Still, when Corbeau brings up Phillipe, Jacinthe looks over as she tries to imagine that; she finds herself smiling just a touch at the thought.]
Is he more of a wine type of person? Perhaps vodka? I know those types tend to get rather experimental; not that I haven't myself, but the most I've tried so far is purchasing an Alolan rum barrel. It's said to impart a fruit-like sweetness, but I won't know for at least another year and a half how it tastes ideally...
[But ah, she's rambling. She's...used to selfishly talking over others and not really listening, but something in her is curious tonight, as she goes to get her phonograph set up and playing some swing, which seems to ease Jacinthe just a little bit already. Now let her go see if she's got some glasses here...]
Oh, but never mind that. What sort of things does he like to bring you?
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[Her questions about Philippe get an exasperated (but fond) sigh and Corbeau lifts his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.]
He likes everything, and he's very fond of finding new combinations of drinks. Although I'm starting to suspect that he just likes to see what hideous things he can inflict on me and what strange faces I make in response. Vodka is his favorite, yes, but that man will drink anything - especially if you tell him it's horrid.
[He suffers so, so, so much, Jacinthe. This is absolutely bullying.]
The last one was actually acceptable, perhaps to make up for the fact that I still haven't forgiven him for inflicting peppermint vodka on me during last year's holiday party.
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[Jacinthe can't help but grin at that, though she listens to Corbeau and him talk about Phillipe; he's rather fond of the man, that much is obvious. But it's not in the same way that she had been fond of Lebanne, she thinks. No, Lebanne wouldn't even think of bringing something undesirable to her lady just to see her reaction. This is...
She wonders, if this is what a genuine friendship is like. Bullying, but he doesn't even sound that put out by it; sure Corbeau is suffering, but it seems to be with love, perhaps.]
Oh, dear... [And then Corbeau mentions that and Jacinthe makes a damn face. Eugh.] Oh, that sounds like a terrible experience! Vodka already burns enough going down the throat, it doesn't need the assistance! There's seasonally appropriate, and then there's burning off your tastebuds...
You must have fun with it, though--I imagine the times that he manages to find something that works makes it all the more worthwhile! [She doubts Corbeau would let him get away with it if he wasn't at least a little curious. It makes her smile--and there's those glasses, perfect! Let her grab out...actually...] Will you tell me about some of the ones he's inflicted on you, once I get back? I have to go grab my whiskey stones from the freezer, but I should not be too long.
Please, let me get something to drink for you as well? I know not if alcohol will help you in a similar manner that it does me when stressed, so I can get you something else as well, if desired!
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Definitely not worth it, no matter how festive you're feeling.
[UGH. But she grabs some glasses and a smirk tugs on the corners of Corbeau's mouth.]
Sure. I could use a drink after today's events.
[To say the least... He was fine going without, but damn it'll help relax him. He's still a little too wound up, a little too angry to properly settle down. A drink (or two, or more) will take the edge off.]
May as well bring some water along too; no sense getting too carried away.
[He needs to remain sober, at least. Corbeau wouldn't exactly be a very good bodyguard otherwise!!]
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Consider it done! ...Though I do confess, I tend not to feel anything until at least the fifth or sixth glass nowadays. I trust my dearest bodyguard will ensure that I don't go that far, at least!
[girl you are implying that you can drink at least half of lumiose under the table like that--
Anyway, with that...probably a little sad if you think about it too much statement made, Jacinthe will dart off to go grab everything needed for this! She doesn't know how Corbeau prefers his, but she elects to grab both ice cubes and the stones, in case he is one who needs his diluted. And a few glasses and a pitcher of ice water...
She passes by some of the servants along the way, waving them off when they ask her if she needs help; she outright tells them to take the rest of the night off cleaning, and they're...shocked, to say the least. Huh.
But! There are a couple comfortable chairs in here if Corbeau wants to sit down, along with a couch near the big desk; there's some bookshelves in there too, though most of the books are on battling history and styles and the like. ...There are a few alcohol books if he wants to read them at least that Jacinthe has snuck between some of the stuff that's not hers, but--
Jacinthe comes back in easily, setting everything out and up on the side of the desk closest to where Corbeau is; pitcher of ice water, two glasses for that, and some ice along with the stones. She'll sashay right over to the barrel to the beat of the music playing, clearly enjoying herself while she gets their first round going.]
Here you are, my dear friend! [She'll go over and take her seat at the desk itself, already taking a nice, long sip out of hers before letting herself sink into the chair a touch.] That's much better...
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Anyway, he does explore while she's out, picking out and flipping through a few of those battling books. They're not exactly surprising - and are written in the hoity-toity, uppity way he was expecting - but it's not like it takes Jacinthe long to return. Good that she gets to keep some books about her interests, anyway.
Corbeau accepts the glass, taking one of the chairs nearby as he takes a long sip as well. He inclines his head a bit in consideration before drinking more. Definitely not enough to get buzzed, though the idea is damn tempting.]
You've got good taste - but I'm sure you already know that. [Heh.] Do you usually drink with Lebanne?
[Or is this a solo hobby... Actually, that's kind of depressing, now that he thinks about it.]
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Even so, hearing it outright means that I am doing something right, my dear friend! [Especially from him; he's not inclined to bullshit her.] But ah...no, I usually do this on my own, truthfully. I'll usually set myself up in the boudoir and put on a record; sometimes with one of my Pokemon to keep me company, but usually by myself. If I do drink with Lebanne, I usually partake in a beer or two with her; this is more for...comfort, I suppose.
It is not a terrible way to pass the time, but I've fallen asleep on the chaise more times than I can count!
[...let's not think about that too hard--]
So, please, tell me more about what Mr. Phillipe has inflicted upon you. You said he's rather fond of...combinations, was it? I'm assuming it's more than a standard cocktail.
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I hope you're not drinking too much during those evenings, otherwise you should always have a Pokémon out with you.
[Especially someone like Gardevoir who can use her psychic powers to ask for help if needed. Not that he imagines Jacinthe would let it get to that point in the first place, but there's no telling what kind of stupidity will happen when you're drunk, so.]
But yeah, you're right. He started out with that, back when I first took over the Rust Syndicate. Over time it's transformed into something else entirely, though. [Corbeau sighs, taking another long drink.] The day he brought three different types of rum to my office to combine and try was years ago now. It's been downhill ever since.
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[And she is just going to leap frog right over that because she is not about to get scolded--
But Jacinthe will gladly listen to Corbeau when he brings that up, and she can't help but smile just a bit at that, though she does chuckle a bit as she drains her first drink. Back to the barrel for some more!]
Oh, my...I can certainly imagine the nasty hangover that must have given you. Rum tends to be quite unforgiving, in my experience. Phillipe certainly sounds like quite the card! [And refill secured! Back to dealing with all of this damn paperwork, good lord--] Has he ever managed to rope any of the rest of the Rust Syndicate into it, or is that merely an honor reserved for you, dear friend?
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He'll occasionally bring drinks for everyone - particularly if we're celebrating something - but usually he's better behaved. Usually, he did inflict the peppermint vodka on them without warning.
[It was hilarious, and the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth says as much.]
But most of the time he prefers to use me as his test subject for whatever nonsense he's decided to bring in.
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(...She inwardly hopes Corbeau never actually gets a look at her paperwork, for reasons that might be even worse and prove her even more of a nepo-baby--)
By the end of that, though, Jacinthe finds herself chuckling brightly, hiding it behind a hand while she takes a sip of her second round. Slower, this time.]
Well, I suppose if he had your reaction to go off of, then he absolutely needed to see the rest of the team suffer as well! Only fair, non? [Still, Jacinthe can't help but titter a bit, softer this time.] Perhaps I should set something similar up for the staff at some point...as long as word doesn't reach Mother and Father, they might enjoy it. Maybe.
But I really am glad to hear that you've had such wonderful times with him; they sound like wonderful memories. [...] I...hope that we do find him soon, so that you may continue to have those wonderful times.
[The record stops as if on cue, and Jacinthe goes to look at it. Usually she'd just get started again, but, well...]
...What sort of music do you like, Corbeau?
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Anyway, the mood dampens a bit when she brings that up - it's been hard not to think about it this entire conversation, after all, and Corbeau takes another long sip from the glass.]
Yeah. Man's stronger than steel, I know he can get through anything. I just hope he's... [still alive] alright.
[It's been too long without word from him. If he was kidnapped, the demands would have been made by now. So it's not looking good.
Corbeau shakes his head as if to clear it as Jacinthe changes the subject. What music does he like?]
...A bit of everything, though I'll admit I have a fondness for classical.
[And really loud, obnoxious dubstep and metal but like, this is a little more suitable. It calls back fond memories of when he was younger, when Lysandre would play one of his favorites and Corbeau would hang on his every word. It's the only reason why he knows the classics at all; he certainly wouldn't have listened on his own, but Lysandre was there to slow him down, as usual. He learned so damn much from that man.
...He's not sure if this is really a better topic, come to think of it.]
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[It...kind of hits Jacinthe, that she's at a loss for how to actually help; she's never really had to be the one to help someone else, really. Everything has always been at her beck and call, and her parents forced her to shove down everything else. Shove it down until it explodes, at people who don't deserve it, who only want to make their paycheck and live, and--
Jacinthe will go through her collection; she's not much of a classical girl herself, but she collects all sorts of genres because it feels nice to have them. To constantly have some variety, something new to listen to, because when the world is both in the palm of your hands and just out of reach, you crave new things, she finds. Crave them like a child craves candy, or a hug, or anything really.
Jacinthe does manage to find a nice record, though, putting it on easily.]
I'll have to see if I can find any others; perhaps something calming like this is something we both sorely need, tonight.
[...]
Is there something on your mind, my dear friend?
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Corbeau takes another long sip as he considers how to answer that. Team Flare - and Lysandre specifically - are still a touchy subject considering what happened five years ago. It's difficult to bring that man up in any context, let alone a positive one. But seeing him again, knowing he's still around—]
I was thinking of an old friend. He was the one who introduced me to classical music; I suppose it's a good night for missing people.
[He says it wryly, like it's supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, but that doesn't really turn it into a joke, now does it?]
You have my thanks, though. The music's nice.
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But if something so small can help bring ease, then I am glad to do so.
[She takes another long sip at that, herself; time to give the servants some bonuses for today and dole out Corbeau's own compensation for that...
...]
I won't disagree with you, however. It is a good night for it. [She wants to demand, because it doesn't sound like a joke; it sounds like a mask. She wants to know him like he knows her because she feels so exposed after today, but forcing her way through just reminds her of them and--] I am here, however. If you would like to talk of him, or...any others.
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(Scared, even.)
He shakes his head, dismissing those thoughts. It's fine because it has to be. It's fine because he's supposed to be her bodyguard, and he can't exactly do that if he's letting himself drown in his own feelings.]
I appreciate it, Jacinthe. Truly. [The offer at least, even though the rest leaves him feeling agitated in a way.] But it's fine, I was just feeling a bit nostalgic. Better stop before I start getting any sappier on you.
[He drains the last of his glass and pushes it away to indicate that he's done.]
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...That is more than a little unfair, you know. I didn't exactly have a choice in getting all sappy on you today.
[I want to return the favor. Even the score. I always get what I want and I want to actually help for once, so why won't you--
Her expression darkens a bit, and deep down she knows it isn't fair to let her temper flare like this. This is his personal life, and even if he's dealt with hers today, it's not like he wanted to have to deal with her parents. He just chose to, like the stubborn bastard he is, and she still doesn't know why he decided to do that.
Jacinthe can feel herself shaking again, her anger getting the best of her, and she just sort of huffs and turns away at first, draining the rest of her glass. She doesn't know why he seems to be getting agitated too, but she wants to leave. It's her office, she could tell him to, if he's just going to be stubborn and shut her out, and--]
All I want is to return the favor, when something is clearly wrong. Is that so wrong of me?
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