ARISTASIA FORUMS & SOCIAL NETWORK

I wrote this after thinking about how Aristasia may not often be a place where high drama occurs, but it seems a perfect world for a light situational comedy. So I wrote this beginning as the start of perhaps a longer series, in script form it might be a programme on Elektravision. If I had much more in the way of money and equipment I would be most tempted to get some friends together and produce and episode or two. This is only the very beginning of the first episode... hopefully there will be more to come.

Adora and Camille
By Miss Elise
Cast:

Adora Trillby: A blonde, an art professor, but primarily works as a cartoonist. Very absent minded, supremely intelligent, but flighty. She adores clothes and cosmetics, and dresses impractically. Recently married to Camille. She’s given to tangential conversation and romanticism. When it’s necessary for her to do something domestic or practical she often tries very hard but gets it wrong. She enjoys reading, and music, and loves parties, and often drags Camille to the parties at her college. Prone to calling Camille by affectionate but silly nicknames.

Camille Trillby: Editrix of a lifestyle magazine called “Shimmer”, a brunette, quick witted and charming. She shares Adora’s fashion forwardness, but is more sedate and more practical. She loves Adora deeply but is some times shocked at just how silly she can be. She has a reputation for being something of a perfectionist, and pushing her staff to be their best. She can be a bit prickly, and doesn’t like to be disturbed from her work, though she is kind at heart. She is often mystified by Adora’s ability to go on at length about theories regarding obscure painters, yet her inability to do something as simple as dust the mantle.

Dorothea Winters: A middle aged brunette. Adora’s department head, acknowledges Adora is indispensable but is often the one who has to clean up her messes. A kind, hard working woman. Often attempts to prevent Adora getting into trouble.

Penny Price: A late teenaged brunette, Adora’s TA. Very eager to please, and excited to be working with Adora. She frequently aids Adora in her silly schemes, without questioning what in Dea’s name she’s thinking, though will sometimes plead with her not to be particularly foolish. She has a bit of a crush on Gabrielle, but Gabrielle is often too busy chasing a story to notice her.

Jasmine Vanderhoff: Adora’s best friend, a brunette archeologist. Very adventurous, occasionally makes Camille feel a bit insecure with her tales of exotic travel and exciting adventures.

Gabrielle Lisbon-Dawson: The blonde daughter of Camille’s publisher, an intern at “Shimmer”. Very driven and excited, prone to annoying Camille with constant questions, and trying too hard for a story.

Althea Hapstead: Camille’s blonde mother. A sweet natured woman with extraordinarily high expectations of her daughter, flighty, and prone to giving impractical advice. She gets along marvelously with Adora. She can be a bit demanding.

Genevieve Dewit: A blonde fashion illustrator, Adora’s other best friend. She’s a bit of a gossip, and loves clothes. She seems to enjoy playing “dress up” with other ladies, often suggesting outfits for events or telling those she knows such and such an item would look “dear” on them, much to Adora’s delight, and Camille’s frequent bewilderment (when she is the target)

Maria Astor: A middle aged brunette, Camille’s mentor, and closest confidant. Camille often comes to her for advice about business and her wife. Maria is sweet and very mild tempered, though occasionally will chuckle at Camille’s youthful foolishness. She has moved from editing to running a literature publishing company.

Inga Astor: Maria’s wife, a blonde of middle age. She and Maria are obviously very happy together. She’s a writer of a popular series of mystery novels. She's rather quiet and introspective.




Episode one: In Which Adora Misplaces Her Briefcase

Miss Adora Trillby sat across the table from her wife, eating toast with jam, sipping her tea, and considering.

“You know, my darling Camille, I think...” she said, nodding her fair head as if she was quite sure of herself, “I think, now we’re married, we should move to a proper house. I mean, your apartments here are lovely, but...” she shrugged eloquently, “perhaps a little small, and I can’t seem to stop thinking of them as... yours, and not ours.”

Her wife simply hummed, not looking up from her proof for the latest issue of Shimmer.

“Camille,” said Adora sounding slightly annoyed.

Camille continued to read the paper.

“Camille Rosalee Trillby,” said Adora, voice now quite insistent.

“Darling?” said Camille, looking up, large green eyes meeting Adora’s blue, pushing a stray lock of her wavy ebon mane out of her face, and sounding as if she hadn’t caught a word of Adora’s previous speech.

“Sweetums, I was just saying,” said Adora, gazing dreamily into her teacup, “that I think we ought to have a bigger house. A proper house, where we can’t hear the neighbors trotting about upstairs, and your publisher can’t come knocking at three in the morning.”

Camille nodded, considering, trying not to look reluctant. She liked her apartments at the lay college, she’d grown accustomed to them, and the idea of sorting out the years of accumulated papers before a move made her even more reluctant, and yet... the look in Adora’s eyes. Camille sighed deeply.

“We’ll look for one, darling,” she said, giving her wife a smile.

“Good, I’ll ring Althea, I think she mentioned a place we might like,” said Adora happily, “did I tell you about the thing with the bath towels?

“Please, Adora I’m sure we can manage without involving my mother. What about the bath towels? ”

“Well, you wanted me to send them out to be washed...”

“And?”

“Which ones are bath towels?”

Camille stared at her for a moment, wondering if she were joking.

“Adora,” she said slowly, after she had recovered herself somewhat, “the big ones are the bath towels.”

“Ah,” said Adora, picking up her little black leather bound note book and making a note of it, before seeming to realize something, “have you seen my lecture notes, darling?”

“I put them in your briefcase.”

“Where’s my briefcase?”

Camille sighed, so this was life with a blonde. Well not just any blonde, her blonde. Admittedly Adora had her good points, she was undeniably a bit of a genius, and her comic strip was universally praised, besides that, she was beautiful, long platinum hair, gleaming blue eyes and white skin with very pink lips, not to mention charming, funny and one of the few maids capable of actually challenging Camille at chess, besides she got all the crossword clues Camille didn’t, however she was marvelously bad about things like sense of direction, concept of time, and almost anything relating to every day life.

“You can’t have lost it again,” said Camille, knowing Adora was perfectly capable of losing her briefcase any number of times, and having it end up in terrifyingly unlikely places, “I haven’t time to help you look for it today, I have a meeting at eleven.”

“You sound quite gloomy about it,” said Adora, “poor Cam-cam, does our Cam-cam have to meet with Miss Whosis again?”

“Yes,” said Camille with a long sigh, “It’s not that she’s that bad really, she’s a very kind creature, but... she drones on and on, telling the most ghastly stories about when her grandmama ran the magazine, and they never go anywhere.”

“I know, we had to go to dinner with her once, remember? I made a joke about the quiche and she started telling me her recipe for it?”

“That was the one that called for ground turnips, wasn’t it?”

“I think so, or something equally drefful,” said Adora, wrinkling her nose at the memory.

Camille nodded, glancing at the clock.

“Oh, good heavens,” she exclaimed, “I think your sense of time must be contagious, love. I have to go,” she added, standing quite hurriedly, and giving Adora a quick peck on the cheek, “make sure to check the table in the hall for your briefcase, and I love you, dear.”

“I love you too, I’ll get Daphne to bring the car round, alright?”

“Yes, please, thank you, Rayati my darling,” she said, dashing out the door in a state of panic.

Adora was left to discover that her briefcase was indeed on the table in the hall, and receive a call about being sure to be downstairs in half an hour as the car was to pick her up.

Adora made it down perhaps fourty-five minutes later, as she had forgotten her hat on the way down, and then forgotten her briefcase while retrieving her hat, and then pressed the wrong button of the elevator. This, for Adora, was a truly stunning display of efficiency.

The driver, a brunette employed by the college and used to Adora’s ways, simply opened the door for her, telling the obviously sorry Adora that it was alright. Penny was waiting in the back of the car with a copy of Adora’s notes (in case she’d forgotten them), and a book on Eastrenne sculpture.

“That’s a lovely frock, Miss Price,” said Adora, noting the younger woman’s deep blue dress that set off her rich cocoa brown complexion and blue eyes.

“Thank you, Miss Trillby, you have remembered to get your notes in order?”

Oh Miss Elise my hat is off! My hat is flying in the air! My hat is heading for the upper atmosphere!

I love, love, love this story! Love it and adore it! It is simply wonderful! Please, please write more!

Adora is the most delightful character - and SO lifelike. She may seem exaggerated to some, but she isn't (I know!) You have captured her kind to the life!

I am just popping to hear more of this story!

Oh, I do miss too much when I don't look around carefully.

Thank you, Miss Elise. This gave me a much-needed hearty laugh!

Continuation:

Adora blanched.

“I uh, well,” she said making an expression of bemused embarrassment “I think I have...” she added, opening the briefcase to find that her notes were indeed inside, and indeed in order, despite being covered in Adora’s usual miniscule scribblings in the margins. She sighed with relief. Their neat arrangement was probably Camille’s work.

Penny smiled. “I do think your wife is having a good effect on you, Miss Trillby,” she said.

“I do suspect so,” agreed Adora, as they arrived at the college and the driver rushed to open Adora’s door for her, not simply out of chivalry, but also due to knowing Adora well enough to realize that if she did not it might take Adora as long as a minute to open it, as she seemed incapable of remembering where the handle was.

“Rayati Miss Woolsely,” said Penny and Adora, bidding adieu to the driver waving at her before turning to go into the building where Adora’s class.

“It’s room fifteen this week, Miss Trillby, on the second floor, they’re doing something with the wires in your usual room,” Penny reminded her, as she had for the past two weeks.

Adora nodded, having actually managed to absorb the fact of the construction when she had gone in to get her continuously misplaced hat, and had found one of the walls missing, and several brunettes wearing safety gloves attaching meters to things, and measuring lengths of insulated wire.

“It’s this way?” said Adora heading up the stairs and to the right, again proving that today was an unusually efficient day for the particularly absent minded blonde.

Penny followed, keeping a wary eye on Adora who had chosen to wear a pair of particularly high heeled, particularly teetery pink satin pumps that day with little black satin bows on the back, in other words the sort of shoe that was likely to result in Adora catching a heel on one of the bows or her petticoat, and tumbling down the stairs, thus Penny would have preferred to take the lift, however Adora’s energetic nature would not allow it, and thus Penny was forced to watch her bound excitedly up the stairs, and pray to Dea that the much respected academic would manage to avoid such accidents.

Thankfully both ladies reached the top of the stairs without incident and made their way to room fifteen within two minutes of the official start of class, and Adora proved as usual to be an extraordinarily competent teacher, and charismatic speaker describing some of her more favored pieces and movements with such passion and love that her pupils could not help but love them too. She did manage to briefly misplace her lecture notes (having mistakenly distributed them to the class instead of that day’s worksheet) but other than that small mishap all went unusually according to plan.