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[madamemoiselle]

{Diva is lounging quite comfortably on a couch she's brought to the Plane, wearing very little. Propped against her knees is the The Poetical Works of Lord Byron that Sam has given her. She's also brought a few magazines, one of which seems to have a picture of her on the cover, but it's mostly obscured by a knife that she's been meaning to return.

But in the meantime, she reads aloud, occasionally stammering over a word or two.}

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light...

{But after that bit, she stops, smiling brightly}

Ne, that sounds like the Plane, doesn't it? Well, maybe not so much the last part, but I bet some people here would think that anyways. I can't, though. It's too nice here. Still, how lovely! Did Lord Byron get to come to this place, I wonder?

{She shakes her head though, laughing} Ne, it wouldn't really surprise me. There isn't too much about this place that surprises me anymore. But it'd be nice to actually meet him! I really do love his poems.

{But the thought is soon dismissed, and she reads the rest of the poem quietly.}

Comments

[usagipino]

[Copying Diva's tone of voice,] Ne, it's pretty!

[madamemoiselle]

It really is pretty! It's one of my favorites.

[usagipino]

And it's poetry? But shouldn't it rhyme?

[contract_star]

Byron?

[madamemoiselle]

{Nods}

I like his poetry. It's very beautiful. Ne, no one really writes like this anymore, do they?

[contract_star]

I wouldn't really know. I don't know much about poetry.

[sunkenlight.livejournal.com]

[The clothing (or lack thereof) doesn't fluster him all that much. He's met Ariel, who technically wears even LESS, after all.]

What are you reading?

[madamemoiselle]

Poems from Lord Byron! They're absolutely lovely, I think.

[sunkenlight.livejournal.com]

Lord Byron? [Not ringing a bell.] It didn't really rhyme much, though.

[crowheaded.livejournal.com]

[Ikki joins her at the other end of the couch with an epic case of bedhead. Even worse than usual. At least he had the foresight to put on a t-shirt. In his hands seems to be some kind of cellphone. He's playing with the fact that the screen turns sideways when he rotates it.]

What's up?

[madamemoiselle]

Mm, nothing, really! I just thought that some of the people here would like to hear some nice poetry. There's nothing to do at night anyways.

[knowswheregodis.livejournal.com]

[Chris listens even though he's very distracted by Diva's magnificent rack.]

Uh...it sounds really complicated.

[madamemoiselle]

Ne, this one isn't too complicated, though. It's straightforward, I think.

[humanwaterdemon.livejournal.com]

[Bai would be looking rather captivated (and it isn't because of the poem)] It does.

[madamemoiselle]

I love Lord Byron's poetry. It's so...vivid, I think the word is? I can really imagine what he's describing.

[didorothy]

[because Sam isn't sure that he wants to talk with her and deal with it, Sam just takes his coffee mug and his paperwork and sits on the floor by her couch. Which, in my opinion, probably looks like a very serious little boy drawing with crayons on the floor. That's not the point. The point is, he's not sure he wants to face his issues, but he doesn't want to ignore her, so he's going to do paperwork in her proximity.

'tis a very clever plan]

[madamemoiselle]

{This is a really adorable scene in my head, for the record.

Diva just speaks softly, not reaching out to touch him like she usually would, or wants to}

Ne, you're always busy, aren't you Sam?

[quickcleanpure.livejournal.com]

Isn't he dead?

[madamemoiselle]

Oh, Lord Byron? He is, but his poetry isn't!

[mercwamouth]

You sounded like you had a hard time reading that.

[madamemoiselle]

Well, English isn't my first language, for one thing! Ne, but things like this are hard for me to read too. I don't really use words like this.

[mouthyplonk.livejournal.com]

Oh, I love Byron.

[looks around the Plane]

Suppose it does fit, bits and pieces here and there. Just have to hope it's not nearly as depressing as the ending.

[madamemoiselle]

Mm, I don't think it will be! At least...I really hope not.

[tworiffic.livejournal.com]

[Two eyes her state of dress without comment, but his expressionlessness makes it hard to tell if he's approving or disapproving. Probably neither.]

[madamemoiselle]

{She looks up from her book after a moment, then nods, reaching over to pick up the knife}

Ne, here's your knife! Getting it wasn't any problem after all.