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Post by Dante nó Valerian on Jun 14, 2010 15:51:55 GMT -5
I usually had my hands full at Valerian, trying to wrestle with the fosterlings while making sure that everyone was taken care of, however, on occasion Trinette gave me a breather to run an important errand or two that were not important enough for the Second, but certainly of a more delicate nature to send one of her more mischievous adepts out of trouble. And so I found myself heading towards Mandrake with a reciprocal assignation contract to be signed by its other participant. It had something to do with a unique use of... objects. I merely skimmed the details and it certainly did not seem to be my business at all.
I headed into Mandrake the way that I always entered any building, regardless if I was naked with a collar around my neck or on the arm of one of the most influential people at a fete. I had my own sense of confidence, after all, and did not enter Mandrake house haughty and knowingly, sizing up the Mandrakes, challenging them or casting my eyes down, submissive. If their eyes made contact with mine, so be it, if they wondered who or what I was, so be it. I was not here to make acquaintances.
"I'm here for Mordred no Mandrake," I told one of the adepts that came to greet me. She scurried off to go fetch him for me and I remained standing. After all, I wasn't here in the waiting room to be entertained by the beautiful adepts. This was my world, after all, and to be served by my own seemed odd to me. My hands were clasped behind my back as I looked about. I had never had a reciprocal with a Mandrake, had never needed to, but I could only assume they were just as any skilled patron. It was certainly... curious... being in here.
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Post by Mordred no' Mandrake on Jun 14, 2010 17:29:10 GMT -5
When the young adept knocked at my door it came as a slight surprize. I hadn't had a visit from anyone but Ignace in... a long time. The troll under Mandrake's stairs. Her little voice followed the timid knock with a distinctly wan flavour. Hm, not all of the fosterlings work out, after all.
"Master Mordred," She said. How all the little ones learn to call me Master I will never know, but I do know why they continue to use the epithet. "A Valerian is here with the reciprocal contract." She didn't wait for me to open the door or invite her in, simply scurried away down the hall. I had to smirk as I unfolded from my reading, the leather of the chair and my clothing creaking as though I hadn't moved in weeks. Well. I suppose I hadn't, really. These four walls… I suppose I had become a little like a denning animal since my decline. And the new adepts were warned against disturbing the wild thing.
So. A Valerian. I was well aware a contract was on its way, and knew it would be delivered by an adept of some stripe, since Dowaynes and even Seconds never did do their own damned chores. I'd run enough for Ignace when I was first in his favour. I wondered who it would be this time. Usually it was some adeptling like the one who had so gingerly roused me from my text on the nervous system, all simpering shudders and enormous flicking eyes unable to hold my own. I was not fond of Valerians; only tolerated them as an inevitable consequence of my proclivities. Ignace knew this well, and used my clinical approach toward them with aplomb. Nowadays it seemed my sole purpose was to instruct them, mold them, or break them. So impossibly dull. It was with a sigh that I slid between the door and the jamb to meet whichever Valerian it happened to be that carried the contract. Hopefully Trinette had not decided to send the one whose body was being signed into my clutches. I hated it when they had time to think about me before the deed was done.
I wandered into the waiting room, all rolling hips and imperious expression. I'd gained a reputation amongst Valerians for being jaguarine, may as well uphold it. But as I looked round, I only saw Mandrake adepts, a couple of patrons. And one upright man with a scroll under his arm. I raised an eyebrow, realizing that scroll was for me, and therefore, this was the Valerian. I scanned him with a curiosity they never inspired for me. He had nothing of the servant or slave or even the fucktoy about him. He was proud and straight-backed and level-eyed, a sort of calm hovering around him like a wreath of pipesmoke.
"The contract?" I asked to confirm my suspicion as I came under the lintel into the waiting room. I did not serve up the chilly version of my deep voice that I commonly used with others from his House. I did, however, stride directly up to him, slightly too far within his sphere of comfort. I felt somehow that I needed to sense him out, test him. "I don't believe we've ever met. Mordred no Mandrake." I offered my hand, examining his angular features for tells.
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Post by Dante nó Valerian on Jun 14, 2010 17:46:47 GMT -5
I caught him in the corner of my eye as he approached, like a creature stalking his prey, only to realize the creature that had darted into the bushes had not been a rabbit but a full grown bear. I wasn't sure what he expected, but by the way he strode up to me, curiosity in his gaze, sizing me up, I could tell that he wondered just what kind of Valerian I was. Just a typical kind, I almost wanted to assure him with my lips. I yielded just like every other, I bent myself to my patron's will, just as we were wont to do. I may have handled it with more dignity and respect, but it was merely because I had learned how to accept my position and handle it, rather than detest or break underneath it. Who I was behind closed doors of the assignation room was different than who I was when I was not assigned to a job.
He came a bit close for comfort, but I did not back away, certain that he was testing me or merely had taken an extra step, nothing more. "Ah yes, right here," I said and took the scroll out from underneath my arm as I handed it to him with one hand. He held out his hand, which I shook firmly and offered a slight smile along with it. "Dante no Valerian... and no, I don't believe we have met." I was sure I would have remembered him. I was good at placing names to faces and there was something about his entire... aura that had me a tad confused. I supposed it was the Shahrizai part of me trying to analyze this man and though I tapped into such skills readily, I very rarely used it for the same reasons my kin did.
"Lilianna no Valerian is who you are having your reciprocal with if in case you had not been informed. The rest of the details are in the contract." I waited for him to fill it out. Not so eager to get back to Valerian, but really having nothing better to do after this. Mandrake was an interesting house indeed and even though it was paired with my own, I felt like I knew very little about it. Was that all that it was? Yielding and making one yield? It seemed so delightfully simple but I supposed that made work easier. Other than Demetrius I knew no other Mandrake and he and I rarely spoke about our occupations. It seemed... almost other worldly.
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Post by Mordred no' Mandrake on Jun 15, 2010 23:03:13 GMT -5
My eyes lingered on his for a moment as he passed the contract to me. Dark eyes, dark as my own, depthless and composed. There was a patience in them, a knowing. Curious, the stillness of them, the determination. I had never seen it in the eyes of a Valerian before, this self-sufficiency. Something like it, yes… but fueled by anger or shame. This was simply novel.
It took an effort with my interest piqued, but I eventually looked down at the scroll and unrolled it, skimming the details as disinterestedly as usual. Blah blah training… blah blah stretching with aides… blah blah stress positions… Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing at all intriguing for me. I sighed and cast about for a quill, finding one on the nearby reception desk, and hastily sketched my understated, trim signature. I strolled back to the Valerian, blowing gently on the ink to hasten its drying.
"Lilianna," I grunted, nodding. I had seen her before… so this would be the next phase of her education. Rolling the page back into a cylinder, I passed it back to Dante. "I think I must have trained every member of your House by now but you, Dante no Valerian. I wonder how that managed to slip past Trinette's notice?" I shot him a teasing, cold smirk. I knew as well as he that those who were already perfect in Valerian's art were never sent on reciprocals to Mandrake. I quirked an eyebrow at him emphatically, interested.
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Post by Dante nó Valerian on Jun 17, 2010 15:03:40 GMT -5
I took the scroll and slipped it into the case again after he had signed it and when he asked me the question, I could not help but smirk a little, leaning forward a bit. "I'll let you in on a secret, Mordred," I said, unable to hide the mirth in my features. I knew much about this adept, if only through what Trinette had told me, of the multiple times that he had been contracted for a reciprocal. He was good. Or was supposed to be, but what a 'good' Mandrake was was beyond me, I had never experienced one and I had no intention to. "I'm much older," I chuckled and shook my head. About the age of retirement, in my opinion, yes, some kept in longer but Valerian was for the spry and youthful who could mend their wounds quickly.
"I haven't needed training, either. Believe me, it hasn't slipped past Trinette's notice." I wondered a bit about this Mandrake, but did not want to linger on it. I bowed a little towards him out of courtesy. If I had needed a reciprocal, I would have been given one, assigned one by Trinette but she had not and I could only assume that I had pleased my patrons enough. Their will was my will and I accepted that fate graciously. Be far from me to start BOASTING about it to a stranger or speaking about that which was private behind closed doors.
"Good day to you, Mordred. Have a good reciprocal."
And on that, I turned heel to leave.
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Post by Mordred no' Mandrake on Jul 7, 2010 18:31:57 GMT -5
I laughed a little, a brief hitch of breath as he delivered his 'secret'. As though age had anything to do with one's skill. Of all people, this was clearest to me, youngest living Mandrake to achieve his full marque. No, this one had not been seasoned to perfection before my time… I would have heard of him. Perhaps even been tested on him in the days before my debut. He just was, and therefore was a quiet force.
"Your modesty does not become your skill, venerable Valerian," I smiled slyly. "Though it commends your House's morality." I returned his slight bow, grin still feline under simmering eyes. He turned to go, as self-possessed as ever, piquing my curiosity. I could feel potential surrender hovering deep inside him as I always could, but could not place how it would manifest. He was the first I could not read. The first I could not predict. The only submissive I might have mistaken for a regular man at a glance.
I almost regretted that he had to return to his House.
"I thank you," I replied, and sincerely added, "May we meet again."
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