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Post by ~*Queen Grimhilde*~ on Mar 27, 2009 20:22:17 GMT -5
Queen Grimhilde was not pacing, but rather enjoying the gloomy weather that seemed to abound wherever she traveled. Personally she did like a nice day...but she loved a dark night over all. The pale moon reflects raise that help the skin.
In any event the Queen was standing near the ride where she was the villain...and how cruel that they use such vulgar ways of death. Not that the Queen didn't die a vulgar death...for she did. It's just that...must a villains death be looked at as a good thing?
This question twisted itself around the Queen's calculating mind. She then recalled, as if time had stopped, that man...that royal man who refused to bow down to the Queen of the villains. He eyebrows arched violently...and her lips pursed, "What a feeble man who does not know to whom he is talking with." She said bitingly.
If there was one thing this queen wanted to do it was to poison those who considered themselves better than her. She would kill those who did not follow her orders...or risk dying and coming back again.
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Post by Milo Thatch on Mar 28, 2009 15:53:35 GMT -5
Fantasyland sure was colorful. Milo never knew quite what to make of it - one thing he knew for sure was that he loved the Flying Elephant ride. What a thrill! Milo was thinking of riding it again at that moment. Well, he would, if the weather wasn't so bad.
Strange, Milo thought. It was nice out just a few minutes ago.
Of course, Milo had never looked into how the weather changed. He wasn't much of a scientist - maps and languages were his real forte. But still, the gloomy weather that was present made him just a little curious. People like Milo couldn't help but think compulsively.
He looked around at his surroundings. Did anyone else seem to notice? He was about to leave the subject, until he noticed something -- someone. That nutcase of a queen - the one who enjoyed having people bow down to her.
The whole thing confused Milo. Sure, he was a king - but he really didn't care whether people worshipped him or not. Heck, he was just a guy from a boiler room. Maybe if I just make myself scarce, he thought, thinking of a way to avoid her wrath. Then she won't notice me.
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Post by Basil on Mar 28, 2009 21:41:12 GMT -5
<<Any objection to a third wheel?>>
Basil strolled cheerfully down the avenue with Toby in tow. He felt like a new mouse today, after coming through a season of troubles large and small. Yet, he had weathered the various storms and now, as though waking from an evil dream, it seemed as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Passing a regally-garbed lady, Basil removed his hat and bowed, for she was clearly royalty. "Your majesty," he murmured, then moved on down the street.
<<Basil is English--he's got no problem bowing to royals ;) >>
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Post by ~*Queen Grimhilde*~ on Apr 1, 2009 11:19:44 GMT -5
Grimhilde had seen out of the corner of her eye that Milo...that king who refused to bow before her was in the park...The queen was in a rather forgiving mood and rather than call to the man and cause a scene...something she very rarely does, she was going to let him go...unless he decided to start conversation then she would start to ask questions and become testy.
She was prepared to leave when she heard the small english voice. She turned around and noticed no one...until she looked down and saw a mouse bowing to her, "How queer...a talking mouse....You...talking mouse of respectable nobility.....come hither." She called to him.
She was at least wanting to get to know a talking mouse better to see if he was under some type of spell or at the very least that it was some type of too that he had garnered...or if was related to the mouse that....well she couldn't even finish the blasted sentence even in her mind!
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Post by Basil on Apr 1, 2009 16:53:16 GMT -5
Basil hadn't expected the queen to address him. He only acknowledged her out of ordinary courtesy.
However, he stopped in his course up the street and drew nearer to the lady. "This way, Toby, lad."
To the queen he removed his hat once more and said, "Basil of Baker Street, Your Majesty. How may I be of service?"
Toby looked up expectantly, hoping to get something from the nice lady. Perhaps a pat or a treat...even a simple 'nice doggie' was always welcome.
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