Date: 2009-06-28 07:28 am (UTC)
"Capisce?" The younger man tried again and seeing the blank look on Rory's face, waved his hand in dismissal, "Non importa." It doesn't matter. He turned from the clueless man with the recognizable face and spoke a few words to one of the other men and gestured inside.

"Phillipa! È libero, Phillpa?" Exasperation from the one Rory spoke to is directed at the taller, heavier man. He was supposed to go fetch the woman not yell for her like a simpleton.

He had to call her a few more times before the sounds of heavy pontils being placed across a steel table could be heard, the clanking and the possible muted swearing in a feminine voice. Then came a friendly, "Cosa c'è? What's the matter?" As she moved closer to the entryway her expression grew more and more confused, why were they all grinning at her? If this was another foolish joke on the lone woman in the studio...

re Rosso. The Red King. He was standing right there. Pippa stopped, hand to her chest and looked up at him. That so familiar face. There weren't words, there was barely enough air to breathe--how could she spare any to speak?
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June 2011

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