There is a timid young French girl, dressed in the typical fashion of the Second Empire, sitting in the common room. She found, not a trestle but a canvas and a spare one, and she's working on finishing a shirt in what can only be identified as clear colors of silver, white and gray.
She works with silent dedication, not even singing. Sometimes
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Hesitating, then, is how he'll be proceeding.
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"--- Unc -- Felix!" He told her not to call him uncle last time.
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Not that Angelique is asking any of this.
"--my lady?"
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She's confused by the formality.
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However, should Ange emerge from her room, he's probably downstairs, peeling an apple with a short knife and looking fairly grumpy, if a bit less so than usual. He might still be a little dazed in some ways by the aftermath more than the injury itself.
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"I can still hear you when you creep like that, girl."
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That's probably why Angelique hasn't seen him. But he can't avoid everyone and doesn't really try that hard except with the majority of his family. Especially the strange not-uncle. Him most of all.
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He can ignore her if he wants, but she is certainly not ignoring him.
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Totally normal! Totally functional! ahahahaha whee.
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