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[madamemoiselle]

{Dero was nice enough to motivate me to make a posting schedule, so here's Diva! She's still in Haydée's body, so as soon as she came here, the uniform she had been wearing was gone. But still, she's sitting behind a desk with neat piles of paperwork, all in German. There's a bulky typewriter that takes up most of the desk, and a small desk radio that sounds like a German radio program, though Diva had turned it down quite a while ago.

She also looks surprisingly tired. She leans back in the wooden chair, putting her palms lightly over her eyes.}

Ne, it's really stupid. I really shouldn't care, shouldn't--

{But something said on the radio catches her attention, so she lifts her palms to look at the radio}

My, isn't that something? President Roosevelt traveled by aeroplane last week. I'm sure he was going to meet Mr. Churchill, actually. I wonder if Amshel or Solomon will be there too, actually~ It was winter when they met them, if I remember correctly...

((ooc: Simultaneous plots, awesome. Diva is now in Germany, 1943))

Comments

[madamemoiselle]

...This? You mean...{A pause as she considers what he meant, then oh, duh} You mean our relationship, right?

Why?

[didorothy]

Because... 'cause of what I said. I don't want you to... to submit to me. To be obedient to me in all respects or however it is. I want a friend.

[madamemoiselle]

{She's quiet to consider that, letting go of his hand to put her fingertips together idly}

But it's different, I guess. It's not even just my Chevalier that told me that it was the right thing to do. A lady isn't supposed to speak up when something bothers them, or question the man that they admire. It's just...how it's always been, as long as I can remember.

{Diva makes a discontent noise} Ne, but what is that supposed to mean, that you want a friend? Aren't we already?

[didorothy]

It's not that, it's just... there are going to be problems in a friendship like that. I want to know when something bothers you. I want you to question me. Well, not all the time, but I don't want it to be one way.

[madamemoiselle]

...Then you really want to know what I think?

[didorothy]

[nods]

[madamemoiselle]

{Blushes a little}

Well, I guess I'll remember that, then. Ne, it's almost flattering.

[didorothy]

It's what you deserve.

[madamemoiselle]

Ne, I wouldn't go that far.

[didorothy]

I would.

[madamemoiselle]

{She hides her face again, but that brings back a thought}

Ne, Sam, what you were saying over the phone that one time, was that true? I mean, when you were getting jealous of me suggesting to take Ray and Chris to one of my performances. Do you...still not know what to feel?

[didorothy]

[Sam's eyebrows lift in surprise - has he ever mentioned how much he hates it when they talk about this? No? Then he will.]

Diva, I'd rather not talk about it.

[because Emotions are Ewwy]

[madamemoiselle]

You never want to.

{But that's okay! She'll change the subject with that} But you know, I'd still like for you to come to a performance, if things are alright when I go back home. It was close to the opening night, so I was going to ask you, but then I was in Russia.

[didorothy]

[though he gets slightly defensive and slightly more cranky, he decides that arguing a point is worth less than getting away from the point]

I would love to.

[madamemoiselle]

I think you would enjoy it, Sam. Ah, but just in case, would you prefer a private booth or would you rather just sit in the audience with everyone else? The booths are very nice, of course, but you'd probably be closer in the front row.

[didorothy]

I think an audience seat would be better for me.

[madamemoiselle]

I'll make sure to get you the best seat I can, then. We get first pick for tickets, of course.

[didorothy]

I feel bad taking a seat from someone who actually knows opera.

[madamemoiselle]

Oh, nonsense. All the other actors will be picking up seats as well, for their...Well, I guess their friends and family. I only have Sam, and a few other people that have merged with me.

[didorothy]

[he actually has to suppress a bit of a smile, because she indirectly sort of maybe called him something like family!]

Who else have you merged with?

[bossy Sam, clearly, is the best Sam for suppressing smiles]

[madamemoiselle]

{Thoughtfully}

Let's see...There's Hei, Deadpool, there was Ikki, but that's gone now, you, of course, and...I think that's it.

[didorothy]

I hope you aren't inviting Deadpool to the opera.

[Sam imagines that Hei, on the other hand, would just steal all the food]

[madamemoiselle]

...I haven't asked! I didn't think he would be interested.

[didorothy]

He'd probably do acrobatics across the stage in the middle of the performance.

[madamemoiselle]

{Okay that makes her laugh}

Ah, maybe when he got bored, yes! He does like to hear me sing, at least.