| Logs |
2011 December 16
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Taps Logs |
Light Flirtations
After Malachai leaves, Suraksha give the heads-up on the plans for the morrow to all the caravaneers who're awake, asking them to pass the news around and, if they're up for it, to make something to eat to share. After that she thanks Chanticleer and Alg quite fervently! Then she goes back to bed right away, both to reassure her beloved Rattler, and to get as much sleep as she can -- she knows it's going to be a long day and night tomorrow.
Also after Malachai leaves, the young townies fade off into the darkness and the trees as well. The caravaneers can hear them, however, howling back and forth through the night. It's not an overly loud noise, but it is persistent. After an hour or so it's almost soothing, like a song. A couple of hours before dawn it dies off. Chanticleer is a little wary with the crooning wolves, but it really is kind of soothing, especially knowing that the wolves aren't going to attack.
When the sun rises, it finds a few of the adolescent townsfolk at the edge of the scent-marked border, with several baskets brimming with food. Rachel is with them and she's bright-eyed, despite the fact of her late night. A wide-eyed Fantine comes rushing to Sna'tha's wagon to alert the sidhe about this, since the loogaroo knows Suraksha was tired and had intended to sleep late. The Hetaera's maid also knows it's unwise to make it clear to potential clients that a Hetaera has a live-in lover, so the shy little loogaroo doesn't want to draw attention to Suraksha's wagon.
Shortly thereafter Sna'tha, in a human glamour and followed by a nervous Fantine and two fascinated little girls, approaches the territory border. The slender sidhe stops just outside the tiki torch ring, folding her arms and slowly studying the group of townies. She looks a bit sternly bemused, but simply says, "Can we help you?" Nine-year-old Rohana unwittingly stage-whispers to Fantine, "Are they all woof-doggies?!" Four-year-old Rishima simply watches silently, her dark eyes huge as she clings with one hand to Fantine's skirts.
Rachel steps forward, hefting a basket that's full of fresh-baked bread and jars of honey. Her eyes, a couple of shades darker than Malachai's, twinkle as she says to the little girl, "No. Only some of us have that honor, little one." To Sna'tha she says, "Celebration days should start with a good breakfast. We bring this as a gift." Hesitantly she adds, "Is Chanticleer abed?"
Sna'tha tilts her head abruptly, unwittingly a bit insect-like, as the girl comes closer, and nods, "He is. He was up all night on watch." Fantine calls softly, "Madame, it is, I am thinking, a piece of the arranged negotiations, oui? They are to provision us while here?" Rohana grins excitedly and waves to Rachel, then cheerfully calls, "I'll get him, Auntie Sna'tha!" before she scampers off. Sna'tha hmms quietly, still watching the young folks, then says, "You are all part of the pack, yes?"
The other townies are hanging back a bit. Rachel looks around at the half-dozen or so young people with her, "The entire town is part of the pack, even those of us that only ever walk on two legs." There's enough food to feed the whole caravan for a sumptuous breakfast.
Fantine slips forward to stand half behind the sidhe, whispering a bit nervously, "Mam'zelle would invite them in, I am thinking, madame?" Sna'tha sighs softly, then nods once, "Very well. You may enter, and thank you. Would you follow Fantine here to our chuckwagon, please?" Sna'tha being Sna'tha, she also adds sternly, "We expect good behavior from you all, children."
Rachel looks slightly scandalized, "This is your territory for now. Malachai has declared it so. We all know our manners." The others, about half and half male and female, pick up the baskets and boxes of food and move to follow toward Buddy's chuckwagon. The big minotaur is already up and starting to stoke the fires. He's always one of the first up.
Fantine looks faintly embarrassed as she waves them all to follow her, murmuring, "Madame is very stern but nice; do not be alarmed, please." Rishima patters along with everyone else, and Rohana comes trotting over with several of the caravan children; they offer to help carry things, sniff eagerly at the good smells, and grin -- everything from shyly to mischievously -- at the townies. Sna'tha mutters, as she stalks off, "I am certainly not nice!"
Chanticleer comes out of his wagon at the sound of the excitement, a little drowsy and tired, but mostly refreshed. It's been a long night! He's eager to see what the day brings. Rachel grins down at the children, her eyes shining, "You have a lot of little ones. It is good." The others murmur agreement and are happy to talk with the children. The rooster-sidhe comes up to the group, stretching a little and dodging the children as they scamper through. Rachel's eyes brighten more as Chanticleer arrives, "Hello! I hope you slept well!" She moves, not at all subtly, to walk near the rooster-sidhe.
Chanticleer smiles to Rachael, "I did, yes. What brings you here this morning?"
Rohana says importantly, as she hoists a basket, "Mama says babies are the life's blood of any family!" Several of the children call happy greetings to Chanti as they push away the abruptly-interested camp dogs and help carry baskets. Rishima tags along after her big sister and one of the Sokoloff grandchildren, staring interestedly at Rachel. Finally she gravely asks, "Do you have lots of babies too?"
Rachel laughs and smiles down at the little girl, "No. And me almost sixteen." She wrinkles her nose a little, "Soon I'll be an old maid, ja?" To Chanticleer she says, "We brought breakfast. Today is a celebration day. We are all going to be eating at the meeting-house... the church, you might say... Malachai wanted we should bring food here, first."
Chanticleer brightens and beams. "Breakfast! That sounds wonderful, thank you very much!" He inwardly hopes it's something they can all eat.
Elsewhere, Sna'tha has surreptitiously warned Suraksha and Rattler of who is in camp. The Hetaera is startled, but pleased to hear Malachai is keeping so well to his negotiated offer. Rattler groans, "Damnation. Thought this was s'pposed to be our territory?" Sura gathers together her toiletries and wraps herself up in something warm, so as to head quietly off to the stream near the far edge of the claimed territory, to wash up. Rattler drags himself out of bed too.
Sna'tha raises an eyebrow, "'Tis, sleepyhead. Did you want perhaps the kids to lob the food at Buddy?" She grins wickedly, adding with mock-sweetness, "That would doubtless improve his mood, eh?"
Suraksha laughs softly at that, turning to blow a kiss over her bare shoulder at Rattler before she whispers, "Sleep in if you wish, lover," and heads for the door.
Rattler rolls his eyes and heaves himself out of bed, "Not on yer life." He drags on his jeans and boots and starts to swipe soap and a towel for himself, then stops. 'Chana plus water is a good way to make him forget that he's not supposed to be acting like her beau.
Sura also gently pokes a finger at Sna'tha -- as always, the sidhe casually avoids it -- and murmurs, "Be nice to my poor sweetie, godsmama. He's been helping out like a champ!" Sna'tha snorts, but also grins and departs.
At the chuckwagon, all the caravan children chorus a polite, "Thank you, ma'am!" at Fantine's soft, "What do we say to the nice lady who brought breakfast, children?" Buddy looks up with a snort, then hmms at all the food; he looks vaguely mollified from his usual glower. There are preserves, honey, fresh baked bread. There's also a bountiful plenty of bacon and eggs and salt-encrusted hams that still smell of the smoke in which they were preserved. "The bread just came out of the ovens," a small, bright-eyed young girl offers. She looks perhaps fourteen.
The caravan children are excited at that, and when Buddy growls that he reckons he could spare some bread slices and honey if anyone wanted any, they happily clamor for some. Chanticleer grins. Buddy makes sure the townies as well as the caravan children have some -- he is at heart a sucker for well-behaved children. Rachel tears her slice in half and offers part of it to Chanticleer, "The honey is from our hives. We've had hives here since before the Sickness." The honey is rich and tart, with the faintly flowery taste of clover.
Downstream, where the water flows out of the caravan's newly-claimed territory, Suraksha pauses on the bank at the corner of the field, glancing around to be sure she's not being followed. Then she sets down her toiletries and sits herself down, brushing her hair and winding it up into a neat knot on the top of her head. After that she sheds the blanket, gathers up her soap and washcloth, and steps cautiously -- and with a small squeak at the cold! -- into the stream.
Nearby, in the underbrush that borders the field from the thick forest, Malachai isn't exactly skulking. Still, it's been a long time since there has been anyone inside his territory other than the townsfolk; he can't quite leave it alone. He is stalking the edges of the ceded territory in wolf form when he hears the squeak.
Once she's used to the cold, Sura sighs softly and settles into the water, taking her time to make sure only her scent is present on herself, and that she's all clean. As is her wont, she makes a small, pleasantly sensuous procedure out of the bath, enjoying her surroundings, the tactile sensations, and the prospect of a day where her extended family will be happy -- and she'll get to have a pleased client.
Malachai has been doing this shapeshifting thing for more years than many of the caravan folk have been alive. He's very quiet in his four-legged form, so it's not entirely surprising that he comes upon Suraksha without her being aware of it. He sits down abruptly on his haunches and just... watches...
Back at the chuckwagon, Chanticleer blinks a little. "You have honey here? That's lovely!" He takes a careful taste of it on the small piece of bread. "And it tastes lovely, too!" He's never quite had honey that tasted that good, actually -- not even in the Court.
Rachel smiles happily as Chanti nibbles at the bread and honey, "May you never hunger, Chanticleer." One of the other girls with them giggles a little, and Rachel's cheeks flush up quite pink. Buddy is already starting to turn the bacon and eggs into breakfast; the children are all happily doing what they can to help. They've all figured out long ago how to get treats out of the scowl-faced cook. Some of the caravaneers are starting to stir and gather for breakfast as well. The youngest Sokoloff children -- the ones between the ages of twelve and sixteen -- are amongst the first; they are happy to chat with the townies. Most of the townsfolk are wide-eyed and shy, but friendly.
Chanticleer blinks at the girl's comment, then smiles warmly to Rachael. He can't resist flirting back to her; he hasn't engaged in such flirtation since that time with Inari, at La Cygne's gathering... "There are many different types of hunger, Rachel."
Rachel catches her breath and swallows, pupils widening a little. She laughs breathily, "It is hard to think you would be one to be left hungry for anything..." She takes another deep breath and then hurries on, "There will be dancing tonight. Will you dance with me?"
Chanticleer smiles warmly to her. "I'd be pleased to. What sort of dancing will it be?"
The girl that giggled earlier pipes up, "The kind with couples." That makes some of the other young townies chuckle. Rachel laughs with them and says, "They are very old dances, I'm told. Old even before the Sickness, though there is like to be some dancing that is not so orderly."
Chanticleer tilts his head to the side, still smiling. "They may be a bit unfamiliar to me, then. The Courts didn't adopt many dances from before the Sickness. Will you show me how they are done?"
Rachel tips her head so that golden hair falls across half her face. Didn't she wear her hair pulled back last night? "I would be honored to, Chanticleer. And perhaps go a-walking after. I could show you the land hereabouts. It would be good for you to know it."
Chanticleer smiles warmly, "I'd enjoy that, I think; yes. It would be... an education."
Rachel is still a little flushed, but emboldened by Chanticleer's flirtation, "Mayhap we can learn from each other." She offers him the rest of the bread and honey, "Until tonight?"
Chanticleer accepts the bread, being sure to let his fingers brush very lightly against hers. "Until tonight then, Rachael. I look forward to it." Rachel's smile brightens until it's almost dazzling, and she moves to help gathering up baskets and crates to go back to town.
Back at the stream, Suraksha is humming in quiet contentment to herself as she washes. Once she's done soaping her body clean, she undoes her hair and slides smoothly under the water. Her hair spreads out like a liquid cloud of night on the surface of the water, trailing behind her as she slips forward through the water a little -- then rises again with a happy gasp, pushing the dark, wet mass of her silky hair out of her face as she does so. Clinging to her warm skin as she rises from the water, the hair sleekly outlines her form. She wades over to the bank again, pouring some of her scented shampoo into the palm of her hand, then settles into the water once more. This time she's working the shampoo slowly and thoroughly through her hair. She sings softly to herself as she does so, enjoying the increasing warmth of the rising sun on her and the water.
Back from the edge of the stream, Malachai watches the Hetaera bathe and considers the upcoming night. He has one more gift to offer the dark-haired beauty and he is eager to see how she receives it. Distracted, he doesn't realize that his swishing tail is rustling the leaves a bit. Suraksha is quite experienced, both in being a Hetaera and a caravaneer, so when the small rustling noise finally impinges on her consciousness she doesn't betray her awareness of it -- she simply shifts slightly, tilting her head so she can surreptitiously glance around from behind the thick and slightly soapy wings of her hair.
The big wolf is well-hidden, but his rustling gives away his general direction. After a moment or two of listening, 'Chana is certain there's someone or something over there. The Hetaera considers carefully as she massages her scalp a little more than is absolutely necessary. Finally she slides back under the water and starts rinsing... by drifting under the water in the direction of the rustling. When she straightens again, standing about waist-deep in water, the rising sunlight turns the water streaming down her lithe body into sparkling diamonds of color. She's pushing her midnight-hair back again as she glances around, a small smile on her full lips. Sure enough, the same sunlight that causes the water to sparkle on 'Chana's body also shimmers in the silvery fur of Malachai's wolf form. If she hadn't been looking so carefully and been who she is, Sulochana would have missed the near-silent lupine sitting back in the tree line.
Suraksha is expecting a wolf, and also does not wish to reveal that she's expecting one. Consequently, initially her eyes widen and she crouches slightly with a small gasp -- but then she slowly straightens and calls out cautiously, "Well, hello there. Which villager are you?" She does not, however, move any closer. She's guessing it's Malachai, but she's not yet seen his wolf form... and she's curious as to how polite whomever this is will be.
Malachai startles at being called to, then immediately internally berates himself -- his tail! For a moment he considers just slipping away. But he plans on her seeing him in this form later, so it would be unwise to just leave her this way. Rising to his feet, he moves forward until she can see him clearly, letting her view him. He can't speak in this form, though, so he hesitates a moment. The change is not pretty and he doesn't want to frighten her. He'll just let her see him, then move to lope off through the woods.
Suraksha blinks at the sight of the huge silver wolf on the bank above her... then she smiles as the early sunlight sparkles in his coat too. Her voice is soft, "Aren't you pretty... oh! Don't go, please?" The wolf hesitates again at the call and comes back to the edge of the tree line, head raised. He truly is a handsome creature, and not totally immune to flattery.
Suraksha smiles again, wading over to reach out towards the big male wolf. She's reassured that he responded to words; that confirms her guess. She just holds out her damp hand, though, letting him sniff first before she tries touching. "Goodness, you are a big one! Are you... amenable to ear rubs?" Thinking about it, she's going to guess it's pretty uniform amongst shifters to not have much in the way of nudity taboos. She also thoughtfully recalls Chanticleer's commentary last night regarding the size, fur color... and eye color of the wolf that turned out to be Malachai. She grins, checking to see if this wolf has those pretty tawny eyes.
The wolf snuffles at her fingers, big tongue lolling out to lap at them for a moment. He considers carefully, then backs off a bit. Ear rubs may feel nice, but that would be to put himself literally under her hand. The wide tawny eyes are steady on her for a minute -- then he melts back into the woods. Suraksha laughs softly as she watches the big wolf drift out of sight into the trees, then turns and heads back towards her toiletries, still neatly laid out a little distance away. She's well pleased -- not only was that most likely Malachai, but he came to her hand. She does not doubt he'll be eager and fun to be with tonight.
After they've delivered breakfast, the townies head back, leaving the caravan folk to go about the first part of their day. The caravaneers spend the hours after eating in getting ready to join the celebration or getting things ready to go to the carter and the blacksmith -- the sooner after the holiday they get things repaired, the sooner they can get on the road again, after all. Shortly before time for lunch, the townies return with Rachel in the lead. They too have been getting dressed up for the general party.
Sulochana has been debating with Fantine on what to wear. They've narrowed it down to either something comfortable, with flaring skirts and a short-sleeved peasant top and several sashes -- modeled on 'Chana's belly-dancing gear, since Malachai seemed so fascinated with it -- or something more demure, more like a very proper "nice girl" would wear. When the word ripples through the caravan that the young townies have returned, 'Chana brightens, "We'll ask Rachel! She might know what Malachai would most like to see." Soon thereafter, Rohana is tugging Rachel's hand, gabbling a mile a minute as she tries to get Rachel to come see, and help her mama.
Rachel lets herself be tugged along, laughing and chatting with Rohana. The little girl is already dressed in her best gingham, as is her sister, and both of them have their black hair smoothed and plaited. Malachai's kinswoman is dressed in a long flaring skirt with much decorative embroidery, and a long-sleeved tunic belted at the waist in a way to show off her figure nicely.
'Chana looks up and grins as Rohana bursts excitedly into the room, "Got her, Mama, here she is!" The little girl dances around excitedly -- nearly knocking several things over in the tiny room -- until Fantine firmly shoos her out. 'Chana is wearing just a light chemise as she draws Rachel into the brightly painted wagon, then points at the bed. Laid out there are the two choices: one conservative, one potentially slightly more 'racy' for this locale. "Hey, Rachel, you know Malachai well, yes? So, which would he like more, please? We're stuck!" The Hetaera laughs as she adds, "How closely are you related to him, anyway?" She considers a few seconds, then gets a wicked glint in her eyes as she innocently adds, "So is he a big silvery wolf with those tawny gold eyes, too?"
Rachel's eyes are wide and curious as she's brought into the caravan, trying to take in everything in the neat little space all at once. She shakes her head -- a fairly canine gesture -- to recall her mind to the question. After a moment she points at the more racy one, "It's a celebration. Wear the lovely things like that." She smoothes her hands down her hips and flushes a bit pink, "This is the nicest I have. I don't dress up much." At the questions about Malachai, she says, "He's my grandfather -- well, great-grandfather, actually -- and that would be his wolf form, yes. Though there are others that are that color."
Fantine gives a squeak of delight from the door, "Oui! I was correct!" -then hastily tries to look demure. She gives it up at 'Chana's laugh and quick hug, "You're right, little sister -- I should always listen to you for clothing choices!" As the two women start getting Sulochana hastily dressed, the Hetaera grins at Rachel, eyes twinkling, "Have you ever worn makeup, then?" Her voice is gently teasing as she adds, "-and would you like to?"
Rachel touches her face and laughs, "We don't have such things here. I don't think they are forbidden, though. It looks very good on you."
The Hetaera is getting her face made up by Fantine by then, and she gives Rachel a raised eyebrow and a grin, "Are there many forbidden things here? -and you know that doesn't answer my question!"
Rachel is again looking around the caravan, fascinated with all the little drawers and the fold-out furniture. "There are some. We have to be careful about breeding. And there are some things that have to be kept away because they hurt us. Silver, for one."
Sulochana curiously asks, "How do you know who it is acceptable to breed with, though, if you've been isolated for a very long time? Well, wait -- how old is Malachai? Is he the one who said you all had to stay isolated, or has that rule been in existence longer than that?"
Rachel sits down on the fold-out bed, smoothing her skirts underneath herself as she does so. On her feet are simple sandals with laces that are cross-tied all the way up her calf to her knee, "There are very good records. We all know who all our relatives are. It's not good to breed too close in."
'Chana nods wryly, "Yes, that's a good general truth. Is that part of why you're all so happy to see us, then? You're hoping to get a few children by us before we leave?" Her voice is calm and utterly pragmatic, as if this is something she's used to.
Rachel flushes again, "That's not... well... not entirely... I mean.." She clears her throat and says, "The rule has been in place since before Malachai was born. He wasn't born when the Sickness came."
Sulochana smiles, patting Rachel's hand gently, "It's all right, dear. Your town is not the first, and I doubt it'll be the last, to see us that way. However, I do hope you all realize we're all traveling sorts, yes?" She is still smiling as she lets the conversation be changed, "Goodness, I should hope not! The Great Dying Off was about 300 years ago! I'd be surprised if he was that old. But if he's your great-grandfather, then he's no spring chicken either. Is he still under a hundred?"
Rachel, set at ease by 'Chana's own relaxation, says, "Oh, no. He's over a hundred. But not much over, I think..." Her fingers are stroking the coverlet on the little fold-out bed, "He's been the alpha of the pack for most of that, though. He's very strong. And smart. A very, very good alpha."
Sulochana nods with every appearance of relaxation, although she's a touch surprised to hear of how old Malachai is -- she's not gotten that impression from him, based on the centuries-old folk she knows. On the other hand, all of them have either traveled widely, or have a very great deal of life experience... so maybe Malachai really is a centenarian -- just a rather isolated one. Thoughtfully the Hetaera says, "Did he lose his wife long ago, then? I notice he wears no wedding ring, and there's no fading tan there either."
Rachel looks surprised, "Wedding band? Hepzebah died fifty years gone, and her last cub with her. Malachai's been un-mated since then. He's had a few more children, though."
Sulochana blinks slowly, considering that. Finally she carefully says, "Your people... don't marry? They just mate temporarily? Er, excuse me: they have sex with whomever it is suitable to do so with?"
Rachel shakes her head, "Oh, no! We keep our mates, usually. But sometimes a mated pair have problems having children." Sulochana nods inquiringly, waiting for Rachel to explain further. Rachel continues, "So, sometimes one of the stronger males will mate with the female so they can have strong children."
Sulochana hesitates, then slowly asks, "How do you know if you're mated? Is it like getting married, as in two people fall in love?"
Rachel grins, "It's not hard to know when you're mated to someone. I mean... everyone can tell when they've found someone to cleave to."
Sulochana nods slowly again as she thinks... then carefully asks, "Of course, the stronger male will ask the female and her mate first, yes?"
Rachel tips her head to one side and laughs, "No. That's all backward. The female and her mate would be the one to ask the stronger male."
Sulochana looks relieved, "Oh! All right, I understand." She grins and rises as Fantine steps back, tying a bright scarf about her head to restrain her gleaming jet waterfall of hair, "Fantine, give Rachel a bit of kohl about the eyes and a touch of color on her lips, would you please? Then we can all go to the party and have a great time!" She laughs, twirling carefully in the tiny wagon so her full, brilliantly colorful skirts swirl out dramatically -- and flash quite a bit of bangled ankle and calf! "How do I look?"
Rachel's eyes brighten and she leans forward, "Do you mean you'll let me use your make-up?" She claps her hands excitedly, "Oh, I would like that very much -- and you look a treat!" Sulochana agrees that she's certainly willing to share a touch of makeup! Before they leave, Fantine also insists on changing out Rachel's tunic for a blouse that shows her figure off a bit better. The girl is moderately buxom, but that doesn't seem unusual in the town.
Shortly thereafter the three lovely women and two little girls are gaily headed towards town with everyone else, almost skipping with pleasure -- Rattler, unsurprisingly, is staying by the caravan with Del and Buddy to keep watch over everything. The Hetaera has made sure she's dressed, decorated, and made up in order to attract the eye of tonight's client: bits of gold jewelry -- but no silver -- sparkle provocatively on her bare toes and dangle enticingly where they twinkle at her ears, while her colorful bracelets and anklets chime delicate harmonies. Her golden-green eyes are laughing and her gleaming lips are smiling; she's planning to enjoy herself as well as make sure Malachai remains quite interested. Her silky clothing shimmers and floats about her as she effectively dances lightly along the road with her friends, the skirts swaying with every shift of her hips. She's slightly fuller-chested now, having breast-fed two children -- and with one only recently weaned -- and her snug, embroidered blouse takes full advantage of her resulting increased cleavage.
The main street of Friendsville has been transformed. There are colorful flags and streamers hanging from the porches and tables, and little canvas-roofed pavilions along the way with food and games to play. It's very much like a little fair. Sulochana looks around, her wine-red lips parted in delight. "Oh, Rachel! You didn't tell me you all knew how to party!" She laughs and adds, "I'm so glad we thought to bring some food as well!" She knows her people will take care of that, though, so she simply beams at the young girl and adds, "So, show us around, please?" She figures that's the best way to find Malachai -- he'll spot her and come out of hiding again, like he did as a wolf.
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