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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Jul 4, 2011 21:10:43 GMT -5
I did not venture outside overmuch during the summer months, when the sun rode high in the sky and irritated my skin. I thought of painting, but it seemed a waste to paint indoors, devoid of natural subjects, vibrant with life.
I chose to arrange flowers instead.
I started in the common room, arranging colourful blooms in thin vases, moving flowers from vase to vase like so many people at a fete. I made many trips through the halls, carrying blossoms in my arms, colours bright against my white skin.
I moved from the common room to the smaller rooms where patrons and adepts could speak privately before their assignations, carefully arranging a few blooms in a way that I thought would be pleasing to the eye and the nose. The thought that they might go unnoticed never crossed my mind. I only wanted to be useful.
I finished my latest arrangement and stepped into the halls, arms still laden with flowers as I headed for the next room.
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Jul 5, 2011 12:12:14 GMT -5
I learned something new the other day: Ignace doesn't appreciate it over-much if you keep messengers from Valerian dallying in the hallway. Strange, really, that it needed teaching at all. You'd think not annoying Ignace would be common sense, like not skinny dipping with sharks or not shaving with a machete. So I was Mandrake's official courier for a month, and you may be assured that such a quantity of trivial messages has never before flooded forth from Mandrake. But I didn't actually resent it: it gave me something to do, and it was, in the grand scheme of things, a small price to pay. The only thing I would have done differently would have been to accost Gareth in winter, because it was a scorching summer to spend on errands in the city.
I also got to indulge what has lately become something of a curiosity of mine. I've never had much occasion to visit Valerian - and given how some of the Mandrakes treat Valerian visitors I wasn't quite sure to expect. But then I suppose it's quite difficult to harass somebody yieldingly, and I was largely ignored. I was mildly piqued about it, to be honest. I mean, I wasn't expecting them to throw themselves en mass at my feet going “take us now, oh potent Mandrake” but this was taking polite disinterest a bit far. They didn't even stare. Bastards.
The other peculiar thing about Valerian, I noticed, was that there were flowers everywhere. I don't know anything about flowers, other than that they look pretty and smell nice, but these seemed to have been arranged with considerable care. It certainly made the place seem welcoming somehow. I actually stopped to take a sniff of one of the brighter blooms on my way to the Dowayne's chamber. And then felt a bit of a fool. I mean, yes, it smelled good. What was I expecting?
Message delivered, I was on my way out again when I saw the ghost.
She was walking, drifting, almost, towards me down the corridor, her arms full of vivid blossoms. Thankfully, I have had years of Mandrake training so I didn't yelp. I did, however, look wildly around to see if anyone else had seen it, and if they were even remotely worried about it, or if visitors from the beyond were a regular Valerian thing. Unfortunately there was nobody there to help me.
It's pretty well documented that people do unusual things when they're startled. I suppose I could have run away screaming, but I'm made of sterner stuff than that.
“Are you...” I started, before realising that “are you a ghost” is a completely stupid question to ask anyone, especially given that ghosts don't exist. On the other hand, now I was stranded with half a sentence. “... a florist?” I finished, salvaging the situation masterfully.
Or not.
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Jul 5, 2011 15:10:39 GMT -5
The man seemingly appeared in the hallway before me, which was not in itself unusual, as it often seemed as if adepts and patrons appeared and reappeared at different points within Valerian house with neither rime nor reason to it.
It was his reaction to my presence that was surprising.
"Pardon me?" I asked. What a strange question, although I supposed that encountering a woman in Valerian House carrying a bundle of flowers was an odd enough sight, but his startled look almost made it seem as if he had intended to replace 'florist' with another word.
"Excuse me," I said apologetically. "My name is Yue, and I am not a florist, just an adept who happens to know a little about flower arranging. I do apologize if I startled you, Messire."
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Jul 5, 2011 15:40:37 GMT -5
Neither a florist nor a ghost – just an adept, not that there was any 'just' about it. Now that she was talking to me fairly normally, rather than gliding eerily towards me out of the shadows, there wasn't anything to disconcert me at all. Perhaps it was the contrast that had created the illusion. The blazing sunlight outside, the cool darkness here, the bright flowers, the pale woman and the air suffused with the scent of blossoms. It could have been a scene from one of the novels my mother used to favour, the ones full of dark castles, wild moors and maidens swooshing around in white nightgowns, getting themselves in trouble. Not that, between going mad and getting murdered, such heroines tended to do much flower arranging...
“There's no need to messire me,” I said, quickly, not like false titles at the best of times, “I'm not paying you. My name is Daniel.” And then, looking around at her handiwork, because love should be appreciated, always. “You did all this? They're, err, nice. Very... flowery.”
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Jul 5, 2011 15:52:19 GMT -5
"A very apt descriptor when speaking of flowers, to be sure," I replied. "And it's a small thing, truly. I thought...everyone would benefit from seeing something...cheerful..." I felt my cheeks flush. "No, no, that is not the right word, less...austere...perhaps?" That did not seem like precisely the right word either.
"I do not think I quite know what I am trying to say," I admitted, giving him a shy smile. "Other than to say that I do not like to see such lovely flowers put to waste, I suppose."
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Jul 5, 2011 16:52:54 GMT -5
An apt descriptor when speaking of flowers, my arse. For a moment, I genuinely believed she was having a moment of smug at my expense, but as she went on speaking she seemed sincere enough, if hesitant. And I thought I caught the brief appearance of a smile, which won an answering one back from me. Which, to be fair, doesn't count for much. My smiles come pretty cheap. Whereas I suspected hers was rarer currency.
When it came to flowers, it was pretty obvious neither us quite knew what we were trying to say – she because she had thought about it, and me because I hadn't. I looked again at the profusion of colour before venturing: “It would be hard to find something that fades so quickly cheerful per se. I suppose flowers are more of a moment, and moments, as you say, should never go to waste.”
That was probably my flower conversation exhausted for at least the next ten years. But then I realised I was keeping her standing around, half-submerged in blossom himself. And she seemed fragile enough that it was a wonder she hadn't toppled over underneath it all. “Do you need help with all that?” I asked. “Don't ask me to make them look pretty but I could carry them around in an impressive and manly fashion.”
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Jul 5, 2011 17:19:50 GMT -5
"In an impressive and...manly fashion?" I repeated. It seemed like such an odd thing to say, even though it made perfect. "Oh, no, they are not very heavy, and I was carrying around twice as many before without incident." I did not wish to impose my burden on another, however light a burden it was.
"I think I am just about finished, besides. I should place some in the showing room, and Kushiel's shrine....would you care to accompany me?" It was not as if those areas were restricted to adepts all hours of the day.
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Jul 5, 2011 17:47:23 GMT -5
There's nothing quite like having the words you utter in jest repeated right back at you to make you sound like a complete idiot. Ah well.
“When I said impressive and manly I was joking,” I explained, hurriedly. “But you are, of course, welcome to think of me as impressive and manly at your leisure.”
Hmm. That probably hadn't helped.
Jests aside, I was increasingly feeling as though I'd slipped into the pages of a novel. Later I'd happen to mention my encounter with this pale, peculiar Valerian to someone and they would deny all knowledge of her existence. And then all the flowers would have disappeared. And then I'd go slowly mad. Or something.
“I'd be happy to accompany you,” I said, deciding to gather independent proof of her existence, just in case. And, after all, when they'd given me the messages to deliver, nobody had said anything about delivering them in a timely fashion. “But, whether they are light or not, you must give me the flower things.”
My words fell into the silence, undeniably a command.
“It would be bad manners for me to let you carry them,” I added, by way of explanation. But it didn't really help. I'd been in Valerian for all of five minutes and I was already issuing edicts.
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Jul 5, 2011 18:33:24 GMT -5
He insisted upon taking on my burden, and I, so accustomed to following orders, shifted the flowers into his arms, albeit a tad reluctantly.
"If you insist," I murmured, feet already propelling my body towards the showing room. It was not far from where we stood, and unoccupied, which was just as well. There was not much by way of flat surfaces in this room, apart from the stage, but to set a vase of flowers there would seem out of place, not to mention possibly dangerous. Ah, but someone had already seen fit to leave a vase at one of the low-lying tables in the room, it was quite convenient for my purpose.
"I think here will suffice," I said to no one in particular as I relieved Daniel of a portion of his burden, carefully arranging each bloom at an angle that I imagined would be most aesthetically pleasing. It seemed a tragedy to leave a vase that was out in the open empty of blossoms.
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Jul 6, 2011 8:13:54 GMT -5
Mandrakes carrying flowers. Whatever next. She didn’t seem exactly pleased to give them up either, but I guess Valerians are trained to listen when you start unilaterally ordering them around.
“I’m not going to crush them, you know,” I said, cradling them gently in my arms.
She led me through a door into what appeared to be a showing room, relatively unadorned but for a few items of furniture and, of course, a stage. I felt a prickle of discomfort. I know I’m not meant to feel discomfort about anything, being a Mandrake and all that, but I’ve never really got showings. I mean I’ve seen a few – you have to, before they let play with the live ones . But why watch, when you can do? And I’ve never been one for performance.
“You really think anybody is going to be looking at your flowers when they’re in here?” I asked.
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Jul 6, 2011 21:34:44 GMT -5
"It's not that..." I said as I turned the vase to see the flowers from a different angle. "What I mean is, it's not so much that the flowers will be noticed, but that they will be there when this room is put into use." I caressed a petal with my thumb. "Do you always do things to gain from them, Daniel?"
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Jul 11, 2011 4:28:06 GMT -5
At that I stuttered into silence, suspended between her lightly-accented voice and the rhythmic motions of her thumb across the petal. “I … I don’t know,” I said. When I had written music, had that been solely for pleasure? It had been so long, I couldn’t easily recall. But then you were left with something, afterwards, a piece of beauty that lasted.
“I suppose it's possible,” I said, after a moment, smiling to deflect, “except for talking to Valerians, of course. That I do for its own sake.”
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Jul 15, 2011 19:22:06 GMT -5
I cocked my head to the side. "Few give us Valerians the time of day," I said, a simple statement, but I had to wonder if it was completely factual.
"At least, it sometimes seems so," I amended. It was at least partially true in my case, although I did not make any special effort to engage Mandrakes--or anyone, for that matter, if I were being truly honest with myself--in conversation.
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Jul 16, 2011 13:05:29 GMT -5
I idly reached out to touch one of the flower petals and nearly disordered the whole display. I pulled my hand back swiftly. I hope it's not a Mandrake compulsion to destroy lovely things. More like a Daniel compulsion to fiddle with them.
“Is that so?” I asked, arching a brow. “To be honest, some patrons don't even give Mandrakes the time of day. I suppose they don't have to but it's nice when they do and leads to better assignations, I seem to find. And I don't really talk to other adepts as much I should.” I grinned at her. “Am I doing it wrong? Should I be sneering at you and expecting spontaneous acts of yielding?”
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Jul 16, 2011 21:44:08 GMT -5
I felt my cheeks flush red and turned my face away demurely. "No, that would make you like all the others..."
Frowning at the arrangement of the flowers, I went to them and made some slight adjustments. "'Tis...actually quite refreshing..." I admitted, smiling a little. "Thank you."
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Jul 18, 2011 11:43:09 GMT -5
I felt a little awkward for having embarrassed her – although the flush upon her pale cheeks was becoming, and honestly rather suggestive, white and red roses. I could imagine a patron chasing that flush. Yes, I could imagine that all too readily.
I joined her at the flowers she was adjusting.
“Your smile reassures me,” I said. “I was worried I was just a strange Mandrake who insisted on following you around, carrying flowers and getting in the way. Do you know many other adepts? I’ve only met one other Valerian and he ... well ... he is very different to you.”
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Jul 19, 2011 22:38:03 GMT -5
I suddenly found my gaze was directed at the floor. "No," I said softly. "We do not have...much in common..." I mostly kept to myself. I did not think anyone was very interested in what I had to say.
Then there were the others, who were very interested in me...
"Yue, what are you doing here?" I froze at the sound of that high, aristocratic voice. Préscillia, whom we sometimes referred to as 'Princesse', had hair like spun gold and a certain childlike innocence, one the surface at least, beneath that exterior lurked a vain and selfish creature. Princesse, indeed...
"Hello, Préscillia," I said softly. "How do you fare this day?"
Préscillia swept into the room, the scent of heady perfume following her. "It's my job to clean the showing room today," she said crisply, and then her gaze fastened on Daniel. "Why did you bring a patron in here, Yue dear? You know where the assignation chambers are."
"Daniel is not a patron," I replied, and I did not think I ever wanted to smack someone as much as I did Princesse that moment.
Instantly, I saw her demeanor change. She lowered her gaze, looking at him through her lashes, lips forming her characteristic pout, coquettish innocence. "Well, tis' a shame,for you at least" she breathed. "I'd let you do so many things to me, Messire, so many...things..."
"Daniel," I said softly. "Préscillia needs to clean the showing room, we should leave her to it..." Before I do something terribly unbecoming of me...
Princesse snorted. "Oh, fine then! Such a handsome prize, too..."
I did not realize that I was holding Daniel's hand--let alone holding it in an iron grip, until we were well out of Princesse's hearing. "I apologize, Princesse--I mean, Préscillia--can be very...forward...with her...invitations..."
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Jul 20, 2011 15:26:29 GMT -5
My question seemed to have made Yue so uncomfortable that I was almost relieved to be interrupted by a blonde-haired Valerian adept. However, I watched the exchange that followed with increasing incredulity. I've seen, and admittedly been involved in, more than my fair share of Mandrake altercations but at least we don't call each other “dear” in that sort of voice.
At some point during the conversation, Yue caught my hand and held onto it with a strength that belied her fragile form. I had no particular inclination to free myself, so I simply took a step or two closer to her in silent, physical solidarity against the Valerian Bitchqueen.
But all this was nothing to the next bit, when the blonde girl seemed to decide I was in some way common property to be simpered at. When she started pouting and offering what I presumed was meant to be a seductive invitation to do “things” (“many things!”) to her, I actually burst out laughing. It was utterly ill-mannered of me, I know, but I was truly astonished to have been addressed in such a fashion. The “ handsome prize” bit, in particular, was priceless.
And I was still laughing as Yue led me into the corridor. “Please don't apologise,” I said, when I could breathe again, giving the hand she still held a reassuring squeeze. “That was hilarious. A jester on loan from Eglantine, I presume?"
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Jul 20, 2011 20:18:54 GMT -5
I stared at him, shocked that he would say such a shocking thing....
...and then I giggled.
"Oh-oh dear, Daniel! Th-that is...that is a terrible...thing to say!" I did not think I had ever had cause to display so much emotion at one time.
I took a deep breath, gazing at Daniel through my lashes. "A terrible thing to say," I repeated, fighting the urge to engage in another display of uncontrolled emotion.
"But..." I bit my lip. "What Princesse--Prescillia! What she said was...intolerably rude, so perhaps, perhaps she...deserved it...a little."
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Jul 22, 2011 4:44:58 GMT -5
I don’t think anyone could have been more shocked than I was when she actually laughed – and I felt incredibly silly for even briefly having thought she was a ghost. There was something thereal about her, yes, but she was also quite human. I almost told her how lovely she was when she was amused but I thought it would only make her self-conscious again, and I enjoyed these brief moments of inhibition too much to let them go.
So, instead, I continued with my teasing. Yes it was a little cruel at … what had Yue called her … the Princesse’s expense but then she hadn’t exactly been kind to Yue either.
I let my eyes fly wide. “Oh, you mean that wasn’t a joke? It was a genuine offer?”
I gave a little tug on Yue’s hand, as if I intended to pull her into the showroom again. “Well, quick, we have to go back, I must have her. Right now. She’s going to let me do things-many-things to her.”
My composure cracked about halfway through the declaration and I was laughing again by the time I got to things-many-things, which rather ruined the effect.
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Jul 26, 2011 22:03:20 GMT -5
I covered my mouth to attempt to suppress a giggle and failed miserably.
"D-Daniel, you should not--" my cheeks burned hotly as I imagined how Princesse would react to his comments. "Sh-should not--she might hear you!" I knew from experience that Princesse was even more insufferable when she was angry, and I did not wish to inflict an angry Princesse on the rest of the house.
Such thoughts were sobering, and I turned to Daniel, all mirth gone. "I suppose what you have just seen is the worst that Valerian House has to offer," I said softly. "I am sorry you had to see it, Daniel."
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Jul 30, 2011 12:33:42 GMT -5
[many apologies for the slow – I wasn't sure what was going on with the board]
I found I liked to see her giggling. There's something about causing a reaction in another human being, even one as harmless as this, that I find utterly irresistible. It's not quite about power, although it is a little, it's something grander than that. Connection, I suppose.
Her mirth, however, soon faded.
“You there's nothing to apologise for,” I said. “She's young, and silly, and we've all been young and silly. Some of us,” I indicated myself with my free hand, “probably still are. I may laugh, but that's the extent of my condemnation. Besides, the worst of Valerian is surely no competition to the worst of Mandrake.”
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Aug 1, 2011 11:25:55 GMT -5
"Truly?" I flushed instantly, looking down at my feet. "I mean, of course there are...disagreements...among Mandrakes." I was so accustomed to thinking of Mandrakes as near-omnipotent, but, acting like a god was not the same as being one.
Unexpectedly, I giggled. "So you mean...you are not all united in dominance?" Now that I had said such a thing out loud, it sounded absurd. Certainly, Daniel was not like most patrons or Mandrakes, and then I wondered what he was like in the assignation chamber.
And then I ceased to wonder, lest my body betray my thoughts.
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Aug 2, 2011 11:34:31 GMT -5
The idea of Mandrakes being united in anything was so ludicrous that I was laughing again before I'd fully recovered from the Princesse. I wondered, briefly, what anyone would think if they saw us like this, helpless with hilarity in a corridor. Valerian was clearly way more fun than Mandrake, although the flowers weren't doing so well out of it.
“United … in … dominance ...” I repeated, gasping for breath. “Oh by Kushiel. No. We're like a couple of hundred cats in a bag. The thing about dominance is that it isn't perceived as a binary, it's not just dominance on one hand and submission on the other. Most Mandrakes seem to spend all their life chasing the elusive More Dominant, whatever that is. And the winner, presumably, is whoever stakes a claim to Most Dominant. And it seems that you attain that exalted position by being the biggest prat in Mandrake.”
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Aug 29, 2011 16:12:59 GMT -5
"What is a 'prat', Daniel?" I asked, certain my confusion was apparent on my face. I could guess what the word meant from the context, but it still felt strange on my tongue.
"But if you...all serve Naamah, does that not make your squabbling for supremacy meaningless?" I ventured. "What is there to gain by it, then?" Mandrake House was beginning to sound much like my mother in temperament.
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Sept 9, 2011 15:47:55 GMT -5
I bit down on a laugh to hear the word 'prat' emerge so delicately, in her serious, lightly-accented tones. But I didn't want her to think I was mocking her.
“Of course it's meaningless,” I said, “but lack of meaning has never stopped anybody doing anything. Humans aren't exactly rational animals. I don't mean to condemn my house unduly – there are some who rise above it, I'm sure.” Although that too was often performed with a kingly sort of disdain. “But I suspect most Mandrakes would squabble for supremacy over a paper bag, given half an opportunity.”
And would I? I suppose it depended on the quality of the paper bag.
“And your own House is not so very different,” I pointed out, with a vague backwards gesture in the direction of the Princesse. “So people must believe there is something to be gained.”
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Sept 19, 2011 18:24:00 GMT -5
The image of a cadre of Mandrakes squabbling over a paper bag provoked a giggle and a blush that I attempted to obscure with my hand. I did manage to occupy myself with arranging the last of the flowers so that I only made a partial fool of myself.
"Oh no!" I managed to choke out when he finished. "We Valerians would...merely avoid looking at the paper bag...as we always do..." I dropped my gaze to the floor, imitating the downcast look that had been ingrained in us since our first day of apprenticeship.
I met his eyes. "And then, we would gossip about it behind its back, about how it is not actually a bag, but a flat sheet!" Had I just jested? Again? I did not know if I was disturbed or encouraged by the idea.
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Sept 23, 2011 9:15:36 GMT -5
I gave a surprised laugh at her picture-perfect depiction of conventional Valerian submission, before she met my eyes again through the frame of her flowers. Her flashes of mischief seemed to be in conflict with the way she presented herself to the world – and surely you didn’t have to be a Mandrake to find that inherently enticing. I enjoy the struggle, between something as simple as laughter and gravity, all the way down the ladder to the dance of pleasure and pain, pride and surrender, constraint and freedom.
“I’ve never understood that,” I said, momentarily serious myself. “The appeal of downcast eyes, I mean. Is it supposed to say “your dominance is so overwhelming I cannot even bring myself to behold it” or is it just a trick so you don’t have look at ugly patrons? I always like to see someone’s eyes. Or is it just so the patron has the pleasure of...” I mimed the gesture with my forefinger that would lift the chin of a someone on their knees, “...forcing you to look?”
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Post by Yue nó Valerian on Sept 23, 2011 22:32:47 GMT -5
I took a moment to respond. "It...is a gesture of respect," I began. "To look upon a patron is a privilege..." I sounded like I was quoting one of the texts that we studied as apprentices, and inwardly I cringed at the thought. I was not a trained parrot.
"It...is a little romantic, in a way," I ventured. "When a patron lifts your chin, they are in a good position to give a kiss...or a slap, or to be forceful, as you mentioned, or to place pressure on one's jaw...I do not like it so much when they squeeze, the bruises...take more time to fade..." I wondered if that was part of the reasons my patrons were so ravenous. Their marks remained on my skin, a living testament to their prowess.
Yet, for all their prowess, they had not yet succeeded in forcing me to tell them my secret.
"Is there...something you do find appealing, Daniel?" I asked, suddenly curious to learn this unconventional Mandrake's preferences.
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Post by Daniel nó Mandrake on Sept 25, 2011 13:59:22 GMT -5
Her skin was flower-petal pale. I could certainly imagine how beautifully bruises would bloom on it. Not that I probably should have been imagining it, since she'd just told me she didn't like it. All the same, I thought most patrons would have trouble restraining themselves from marking such exquisitely pristine territory.
I lowered my eyes in imitation of the Valerian look she had just demonstrated, not completely successfully I'm sure because I was grinning as I did it. “I like whatever my patron likes,” I said, half-in-jest, half-in-earnest. Really, whatever pretences we made, our Houses were, in essence, the same.
But because it was a cowardly answer, I went on more sincerely: “I like closeness, actually, which is partly why I prefer to be looked at. The way two bodies are in pleasure, I don't see why pain must be so remote. When I hurt someone I want to feel it like a chain that connects us. I don't want to be on the other side of the room holding a whip. And I want it to be me – Daniel – not some invented illusion of mastery.”
I'd said far more than I intended, not that it really takes all that much to get me babbling, and in the abstraction of embarrassment I realised I'd just dis-arranged all the flowers she had so carefully positioned.
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