| Logs |
2013 August 28
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Taps Logs |
Smoke & Mirrors
The aftermath of Malachai's funeral is solemn and the caravan pulls out of town with ten townsfolk with them. Rachel, the twins, Rufus and a half-dozen young townie women between the ages of fifteen and twenty go with them. As passage, they bring two sturdy wagons and some of the town's stockpiled goods for trade. Most of them are eager to explore, but two of the young women are nervous tend to stick close to the other townies for the first few days out of town. Those first few days are mostly just pushing on until they can find a good spot to camp for a couple of days and get ready for their next regular stop, where they will be expected to basically be a carnival.
Suraksha is careful to explain to the young folks that while pregnancy may be their goal, they're going to be on the road for at least six months. Consequently they might want to take the time to be choosy, since the further along a pregnancy is, the harder it is on the traveling woman. Further, they should all pitch in when and where they can, so everything moves smoothly. She doesn't really think anyone willing to leave Friendsville would be lazy, but she does think it bears repeating, along with the rest of the caravan rules -- such as the ubiquitous "NO asking questions!" That one still makes her smile, remembering Corbett's emphasis when they first met... and, oddly, that helps settle the ache in her heart for the poor Friendsville thane's pointless death.
Rachel is amused that she gets elected to act as a sort of cultural translator and on the second night out of Friendsville, she approaches 'Chana and Fantine looking a little bit amused. Rattler is off doing his bit on the nightly guard-rounds and the girls are already tucked up in bed. Rachel, who has always been the one to go out of town for trading, is already starting to adapt her dress to the road though the colors are still somber.
Suraksha is curled up relaxedly with Fantine and Ohkwa, reviewing the books. She's quietly relieved -- though she won't say so in front of the Friendsville folks -- that Vashti acceded to her insistence and kept the pretty blonde wolfskin. Even if the two new wolfskins change six people at a time, the townfolks still need the other wolfskin as well. Sura hadn't objected at all, however, when Vashti had been kind enough to pay all of the town's outstanding debts with some of the discovered treasure.
Included in the payment, at the quiet request of the documents expert of the caravan, were two of the books. One seems to be a history book that might have been for a pre-Dying Off school. The other appears to be a memoir of one of the town elders. Caroline has promised to bring the latter back once she has had time to copy it. She has also kept the papers 'Chana found to try and restore them.
Suraksha looks up a bit distractedly at Rachel's approach -- then smiles and leans back in her chair, taking a sip of her tea. "Hello, Rachel. How is everything? Would you like some tea, dear?"
Rachel shakes her head and says, "I'm still getting used to sleeping in the bunk wagon. I don't need extra stimulation." She smiles, mouth closed for the first moment and then lips splitting to show her teeth. More and more, she's remembering that's how one smiles outside Friendsville.
Suraksha laughs softly at the smile, nodding once. She smiles in return, setting her teacup down and waving a hand towards the felled log that Ohkwa is seated on, "Looks like you have something to say. Won't you join us?"
Rachel nods and takes the seat that's offered, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. Her blonde hair has been pulled back into a neat braid. The braid itself is woven through with thin purple ribbons, "I wanted to ask something of you and Fantine and perhaps some of the Amazon sisters." She reaches up to tug nervously on her braid, "The town women that came with us are all young and we're all strong and willing to work. We've all also had some martial training because Vashti thought that would be safest. But... we stick out."
Suraksha tilts her head thoughtfully, considering that statement. How do the Friendsville folks stick out?
Rachel shifts in her seat again, motioning around, "We look different." Her smile flashes again for a moment, "Granted, there is a lot of variety in the caravan, but... we are like a flock of ravens amongst a cloud of hummingbirds."
Suraksha's eyes twinkle at the tall, slender, brilliantly blonde woman; she teasingly murmurs, "Surely more storks than ravens?"
Rachel laughs and says, "Let us say very tall ravens. Strong, but drab and... well, nervous. And very few of us ride well. If we are to be here and be part of this caravan, I would like... we would like help."
Ohkwa murmurs, "I think they are asking for comportment lessons." This seems to amuse the big man.
Suraksha nods thoughtfully at that, "She has a point, too, Ohkwa." She sighs thoughtfully, glancing around, "The problem is more... who can we spare?" She hmms, lightly tapping one slender fingertip against her lips, then tilts her head in invitation to Rachel, "Have you any suggestions currently, dear?"
Rachel says, "I don't want to ask you to exactly spare anyone. I was wondering if..." She hesitates again, as if she's trying to get the words in her head into a different language, "We all need to learn how to be part of the caravan. I wondered if we would be able to set up almost... apprenticeships... for those that want it. Hannah, for instance, has been looking at the Amazons and their skills with the horses. Anna was becoming a seamstress and might be helpful to Fantine. I thought it might be good to have part of their learning be specifically about the society of the caravan."
Suraksha says, "Ah!" She nods and smiles, "An excellent suggestion. Do you know the interests of all ten of you already? We can ask our runners to check with appropriate mentors while we're on the road tomorrow, if so?"
Rachel hurries on, "We all understand the no questions thing, which is why I wanted to ask if this could work." She seems relieved at 'Chana's response, "Not all of them, no. But I can easily find out." Her smile flashes again. It's really a very pretty one, "I also wanted to know if you could help us with clothes. We have trade goods, but..." Fantine murmurs, "But you wish the fashion sense, oui?"
Suraksha laughs softly, patting Fantine's hand, "Now that I shall leave in your capable hands, Fantine, if you are willing!" She smiles at Rachel, adding gently, "There are ways to ask questions, dear, that are fine. It's just nosy intrusiveness which is not allowed. For example, if Anna were interested in some help with sewing, she might state, while we're all relaxing around the fire at night, that she'd like to learn more about costuming but she doesn't know who to turn to in order to offer assistance. That sort of thing; you understand?
Rachel nods and visibly relaxes, "Thank you. I also have another question, if I may?"
Suraksha chuckles, waving a hand, "Please do."
Rachel says, "I have heard some talk that the caravan will be running a carnival at the next town, yes?" Suraksha nods silently as she sips her tea, listening with interest. Rachel says, "Hannah and I would like to do an exhibition with staves. But we're used to simply... using them. Do you know anyone that could help us turn it into something exciting?"
Suraksha raises an interested eyebrow, "Hmm! You'd need showmanship for that." She's silent a moment, then glances inquiringly at her two companions, "The Sokoloffs?" Ohkwa nods calmly as he lights his pipe, "Could be kinda dramatic," which causes Fantine to giggle. Suraksha smiles, "Excellent! We'll try hooking you up tomorrow then, Rachel."
Rachel discusses some ideas for apprenticeships and leaves the fire with a spring in her step, the silken ribbons in her hair shimmering in her hair after her drab clothing has let her mostly disappear into the dark. As she's walking off, Rattler's voice drawls from behind her, "It'll be good if they blend in more." The king-in-exile is wearing dark clothing himself, but so do all the guards when they're doing their rounds.
Suraksha nods relaxedly as she sips her tea and watches Rachel happily head off. She rests her hand lightly over Roy's when he lays his on her shoulder, smiling up at him, "Hello, lover. All quiet tonight?"
Rattler crouches at 'Chana's side, resting easily in the position. He's always been fit, but the months on the road have made him moreso. "You got anything set up to do for the carnival, cherie?"
Suraksha sighs in quiet pleasure as she runs her fingers lightly through her lover's hair, "Mmm? Not really. Why?"
Rattler nuzzles into 'Chana's hair and says, "Well, when we were dancing back in Friendsville, I thought how nice it might be to get to show off a little more..." His hand is stroking her ankle and foot as he talks, "And it'll give me a chance to work on costumes and disguise as we get up toward Boston."
Suraksha laughs delightedly, "Oh! What a lovely idea, sweet man! That'd be fun!" She grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "What did you have in mind, mmm? Any particular dance, or what?"
Rattler grins at her and turns so he can nip at her fingers, "Tango." He says it as if there is no other option that might be considered.
Suraksha ooohs teasingly, wriggling happily in her seat, "Gracious! Trying to steam up the show a bit, eh?" She giggles, then grins excitedly at Fantine, "Do I have a dress we can modify for that?" Fantine grins shyly and nods, glancing sideways at Rattler, "Oui, mam'zelle! It will be he who is the, umm... who will necessitate costuming? But together, the two of you? Quelle formidable!" She giggles, and blushes at Rattler's cheerful wink.
Rattler grins at the blush, his hand having slid up the back of 'Chana's leg to cup her calf, "Jes' lemme know when you got time for practicin'. I mean, we do good just ad libbin', but I wanna have people pantin'." His dark eyes gleam in the firelight.
Suraksha laughs softly, leaning to gently hug her lover, "Love to, sweet man. It'll mostly be evenings after we've settled, if that's all right and you're not too tired." She grins up at Ohkwa and Fantine, adding, "We'll need a thoughtful critic or three as well, yes?"
Rattler smirks, never one to shy away from an audience, "An' I'm gonna need some advice on how to not look s'much like m'self." He is still stroking 'Chana's calf, the caress just this side of publicly acceptable, "I was thinkin' that I ain't gonna be able to gather up information if I'm hidin' in the caravan muckin' stalls alla time."
Suraksha nods thoughtfully, "Good point." She tilts her head inquiringly at Rattler, "We're getting close to Boston -- only a few months' travel to go. What do you need, dear, once you're there? What research or other things need doing?"
Rattler's mouth tightens as he thinks about it and the flash of flirtation turns into a snap of anger in his eyes, "I need to know who is putting feelers out about expanding trade. This caravan is one of the few that travels the whole distance. I would like us to be someone the conspirators feel safe coming to."
Suraksha nods slowly, "This may be the sort of thing where a Hetaera will be invaluable in gathering information, don't you think?"
Rattler doesn't exactly wince, but he does say, "Hate to agree, but yeah. I got a good idea where dis all started, but I don' wanna rush in wit' all guns blazin' if I'm wrong."
Fantine murmurs something about putting the books away, gathering them up before discreetly departing. Ohkwa simply smiles quietly at the lovers, rising and strolling away as he smokes his sweet-tobacco pipe. Suraksha smiles and bids them both a good night, then studies her lover with a touch of concern. "What is it, lover? Do we need to go sit someplace private to talk?"
Rattler says, "Cherie... once I find out who did dis, I dunno if I can jes' settle wit' some political machinations. It's gonna get bloody. Dey tried killin' me an' a whole lotta my people."
Suraksha sighs, rising from her chair and taking Rattler's hand, "Come with me, please? The girls are in Sna'tha's wagon, and I'd like to cuddle while we talk and plan." Rattler lets her take his hand and follows her, smiling wryly. Cuddling while talking about assassinating his enemies? This is why he loves this woman. The fact that she didn't react with horror is another.
Suraksha carefully puts away their traveling clothing, then cuddles under the covers with her sweetheart. She rests her head on his chest, listening to his steady and comforting heartbeat as she murmurs softly, "All right, lover. Let's plan... because I want you and all the caravan coming safe and sound out of this possible mess."
Rattler has already stripped down and slid under the covers when 'Chana nestles up against him. Time on the road has darkened his already swarthy skin. Long, capable fingers stroke her hair, combing through it, "Of course, cherie. An' you got more subtlety than I do. I can make people underestimate me pretty well, it's how I've survived so long."
Suraksha giggles at that, teasingly replying, "Gracious, yes! Remember how hard we had to work, initially, to actually get to know each other? I was so sure you were just another of those stultifyingly dull, rich, arrogant boys!"
Rattler snorts amusedly and fondly at those memories, "Yeah. Jus' about shot m'self in de foot dere, di'n't I?" He sighs, "So how do I do dis an' not get de whole caravan killed, my dearest love?"
Suraksha laughs softly, hugging her beloved, "Well, it's all right, dear -- you chose to become interested in a woman who carries a lot of metaphorical bandages with her!" She giggles, nuzzling affectionately under his chin as she adds, "Well, first we'll need to know who we should be looking for, and what information you need. After that we can figure out how to respond, I think. Does that make sense to you too, lover?"
Rattler nods and looks up into the middle distance, sighing, "Dere's a guy was a merc' when I was fightin' in Chicago's army. Worked 'is way up t'rough de ranks. He ain't a king, but he wants to be. An' for all de wrong reasons. My city, she a prime place if you tryin' to build power."
Suraksha hmms thoughtfully as she traces lazy patterns with a finger on Rattler's chest, "So this mercenary soldier... your guess is he allied with the Bostonian Brahmins, I take it? Promised to take Baton Rouge with their financial backing, and then pay them back with increased trade concessions?"
Rattler nods, "I think so. Went by the name of Bullet back den. Actually name's Eduard Bala. He's one of those folks dat don' actually feel anythin', but can fake it pretty well. You know de kin'?"
Suraksha shivers slightly, her voice low, "Yes. Their hearts are hollow... and it shows." She doesn't enjoy seeing the chakras of such people; they look damaged to her. She takes a deep breath, then slightly changes the subject, "So he's currently in Baton Rouge, I take it. He'll definitely need to either reclaim your quartz crystal, or have a fake made up -- the Brahmins will want that proof, I don't doubt, of his holding the city in such a way that they'll benefit... don't you think?"
Rattler nods and moves to half-drag 'Chana across his body, "I t'ink you're right." He smirks, "It's a good crystal, my p'tite baton, but it won't do what dey need. Not unless dey can fin' another Tap strong as me. I spent a lotta time lettin' people t'ink I was a weak Tap. I might have to tip m'han'."
Suraksha laughs at his perhaps unconscious pride in himself, cheerfully wriggling into the position he wants her as she teases, "Oh, so it hasn't occurred to you yet, my sweet cockerel, that Bullet is most likely doing his best to hunt you down right now? Or you're just looking forward to the meeting?"
Rattler rests his hands on 'Chana's hips and takes a deep, slow breath to get his mind back on the conversation, "Oh, I'm sure he is. I'm also sure that he figures I'm too cocky to be hidin'. One of the things I need help wit' is disguisin' once we step out front of everyone."
Suraksha smiles and nods as she brushes her lover's once-again shaggy hair out of his face, "We'll figure something out, lover. But seriously: we need to either come up with a role for you to explain why you're moving through those levels of society, or have you stay in the caravan while I go information hunting. The caravan can easily pick up the talk of the street, but if you want Brahmin gossip you either need an in with their servants -- that might work for you? -or a Hetaera-" she grins as she teasingly purrs, "which you have," as she brushes her lips over his.
Rattler strokes 'Chana's hips and back, "Yeah, I know. And I'm pretty damn distinctive. What I thought, ma cherie, is that some Hetaerae have a body servant when they are moving through a party on their own. Part butler, part bodyguard..."
Suraksha giggles in spite of herself, lightly tapping Roy's nose with a small fingertip, "Oh, I see! You've been... brushing up-" she deliberately sounds rather salacious with the term, then grins wickedly as she continues, "on Hetaerae, eh?"
Rattler smirks and deliberately brushes his fingers down her back and over her derriere until he can cup it, "Cher, I been around courts for a while. Met my share of Hetaerae." He makes a little nip at her fingertip, "But we'd have to disguise me pretty well."
Suraksha laughs and wriggles cheerfully, "Well, since you met me, yes! You did mention I was the first you actually met, though." She teasingly flutters her eyelashes as she adds, "Was I addictive enough that you decided one wasn't enough, handsome?" She laughs again at herself, then shakes her head to toss back her dark mane of hair, "Sorry, sorry! Ahem. Right. Planning!" She giggles once more, then settles comfortably into Roy's hands. "All right, we'll have to train you in the right way to walk, lover. Right now you look a little too aggressive, you know?"
Rattler smirks, "OK, so I overstated. I have seen my share of Hetaerae. An' after I met you, I di'n't need enny more." He carefully does not tell a lie. She was not his last lover, but he doesn't feel it needs to be stated at the moment. He snorts at her comment about the way he walks, "You mean I swagger."
Suraksha laughs and gives Roy a gentle hug, "You're such a charmer, dear. Yes, you swagger..." her eyes sparkle fondly at him as she smiles and softly adds, "and yes, I know and do not care that you've had and will have other lovers. You're my beloved and my Chosen and I am yours." She sighs happily, nuzzling against Rattler's temple and brushing a light kiss there before she sits up and says in an amusedly, completely matter-of-fact voice, "More like you strut like the cock of the walk, in fact, sweet man, when you're with me!"
Rattler wraps his arms warmly around 'Chana, holding her close against himself, "Yeah. All of that's true. Right down to me bein' particularly cocky with you on my arm." He shrugs, admitting, "I'm a little vain an' it make me feel good to have the most amazin' woman in de whole room on my arm. An' to know she loves me. So, I gotta learn to act attentive but not possessive, hm?"
Suraksha laughs and snuggles happily up against her sweetheart, "Flatterer! See, this is part of why you make my heart go all flittery-flop!" She mms happily, just enjoying the sensual pleasure of her lover's strong arms wrapped about her, and the wonderfully familiar scent of him, for a few heartbeats... then she smiles and nods, "Right, attentive but not warning off, so to speak. Does that make sense? The warning-off part should be turned on only when you get the signal to come to my aid."
Rattler's crossed arms make his hands come to rest rather possessively on 'Chana's behind, snorting at the idea of being unobtrusive. It's not in his nature, but he knows she's right, "I can do back-off real good. We'll work on de attentive an' unobtrusive part. The other part is, how do I make people dat have seen me not recognize me?"
Suraksha chuckles with quiet pleasure and wriggles her bottom a bit when she feels the gentle squeeze. "Well, it may be hard to believe, but body language is a huge part of how people recognize each other. That, coupled with you keeping your mouth shut -- for the accent -- and staying either completely clean-shaven or growing a beard... that'll probably be enough, lover. People in absolute power, like the Boston Brahmins? It's weird, but they just don't notice servants at all."
Roy chuckles and says, "The keepin' my mout' shut part may be hardest of all." He tips his head at the comment about the Brahmins not noticing servants, "Dat's jus' strange to me. I always notice de servants." His fingers are beginning to tease a little and he stops himself since this is supposed to be a serious talk, "Which do you prefer, cher? Clean shaven or bearded?"
Suraksha thinks, then smiles ruefully, "Beards are for patriarchs, in Boston, lover. If you want to play a trusted servant, I'd say completely clean-shaven." She adds gently, "You were not raised as nobility either, sweet man."
Roy has to admit this is true. His family were swamp-folk and he himself was a swamp-rat bar-brawling sort of young man. He reaches up and strokes his mustache sadly, but then perks, "Hey, doesn't one of the costumiers in de caravan have those fake mustaches?"
Suraksha giggles at her sweetheart -- he does love that mustache! She can't help teasing, "Didn't you cut that off to escape Baton Rouge successfully?" She sits up, putting her hands on her hips in a mock-pout, "So! You're telling me it's fine to go clean-shaven for your misadventures -- but not for mine?!"
Having her sitting up over him like that short circuits the part of his brain that controls his hands and they slide up her body to caress her chest as he grins at her, "Cher, I was meanin' dat it might be good for me to wear it when we dance, so dat your body-servant isn't obviously your dance partner. Might even do a scarf on m'head."
Suraksha giggles as Rattler responds precisely as she thought he might! She cheerfully replies, "Well, how's this, handsome? Why not shave completely, and wear a wig while dancing? Then you can let it all grow back out once we've won -- to celebrate!"
Rattler makes a face at the idea of shaving his head. 'A little vain' might have been something of an understatement. He snorts at her, giving a little squeeze with his hands and sliding his hands back down to her hips, pulling her against him, "You still gonna love me when I'm bald, cher?"
Suraksha raises an amused eyebrow that her Chosen would think her so easily put off -- but then she looks abruptly innocently inquiring, putting a finger to her lips and tilting her head almost coyly, "Gosh, I'm not sure! Hmm... well, maybe if you're extra-specially nice to me, I could be persuaded?"
Rattler smirks and mutters something about showing her 'extra-specially nice' and uses his body weight to roll her down underneath him and then wriggling himself down under their blankets. He proceeds, with many well-timed pauses and great zest to be very, very nice to her. He's even particularly careful to use his mustache to tease the most sensitively spots beneath her knees and on the inside curves of her hips.
Suraksha giggles and squirms quite a bit, enjoying herself tremendously! Much, much later, when they're both deliciously sated and contentedly flopped on each other, she murmurs sleepily, "Mmokay, you win... persuaded..."
Rattler rumbles, "Damn right. I'm a persuasive sumbitch when I wanna be." He doesn't realize just how tenderly he's caressing her as she sprawls over him, "It makes sense. There's some households require their male servants to shave their heads. Marks 'em out, y'know? Jes' like the women gotta wear their hair in a certain way."
Suraksha nods sleepily, "Mmhmm! Trainin' starts t'morrow, 'k?"
The next morning, Roy tries to get out of bed before 'Chana and hunts down Fantine to help him with the shaving, figuring that he'll need to get it done early on so that the tan lines don't give away that the hairdo is new when they get to Boston. He's lucky in that the lines of his skull are as strong as those of his face, giving him an intimidating air even without all the shaggy black hair.
That day, his training starts in earnest. It takes a lot of the caravan to curb Roy's natural confidence and swagger and to re-channel it into the demeanor of a trusted body-servant and body-guard. At one point, 'Chana overhears Alan saying, in exasperation, "You were a soldier once? Don't you remember how to take orders?" And Roy replying, "Never said I was a good soldier. I was a damn good fighter, though." Suraksha laughs aloud at that, hastily covering her mouth so she doesn't distract.
Fantine helps keep Roy's new look taken care of, down to oiling the skin of his scalp to make the skin shine. It does take quite a lot of barbering, seeing as how he's got a tendency to have a five o'clock shadow by two in the afternoon. The little loogaroo also works on Roy's wardrobe. He has formal wear, but it's all far too fine to be that of a servant. Fantine finds herself walking a fine line between 'looks well-tailored' and 'this man is too well-dressed to be a bodyguard.'
Suraksha carefully works with Fantine to make sure that Roy's new wardrobe looks a little like a uniform, a little like he belongs with her, and mostly forgettable. She suspects only one or two nice outfits should do it, since while it would be gauche of a Hetaera to wear the same dress repeatedly, their servants are not so limited. Roy also discovers that his lover is very relaxed about how he wishes to present himself... but the Lady Hetaera Sulochana is quite finicky!
As Roy is standing on a short stool with his arms out to his sides to let Fantine get the hem on a suit jacket just right, he grins down at her and says, "You sure you don't wan' me wearin' more stuff like dis, cherie?" Almost anyone looks good in a fitted uniform. If it weren't for the 'make him look forgettable' dictate, Roy would look exceptionally delectable.
Suraksha snorts delicately, suppressing the urge to bite one knuckle. "My dear, were my goal to make you stand out, the answer would be an unequivocal yes!"Roy grins at her and then pulls on his bodyguard face.
Alan has been instructing him that a good bodyguard should look politely bored most of the time while keeping an eye on everything that might bring harm to his charge. In fact, Alan's instruction might be called gleeful if that much excitement ever showed on the laconic guard's features or in his body language. Still, to those that know him, it's obviously he's enjoying driving home to Roy just what a pain in the ass it is being the bodyguard to someone that doesn't want to be guarded. Suraksha has to finally admit to herself that she's surreptitiously observing the training mostly because it amuses her so very tremendously! As Sna'thaid mutters at one point while watching with her godsdaughter, "Mm, poetic justice again, I see!"
Suraksha waits until Alan says he thinks Rattler has it, and then she sets up a practice scenario. Roy doesn't say aloud how grateful he is for practice, but he knows his own temper and he knows his own attitude. Ahead of time she secretly works with Sna'tha, Alan and Fantine: the first to glamour herself as a drunkenly insistent young nobleman, the last to help dress them all -- and for Alan and Fantine both to observe closely as to whether Roy can hold the "mask" under pressure. 'Chana wants to be sure Roy trusts her enough to wait for her call -- and she also wants to be sure Roy knows how to respond to sneering commentary.
The caravaneers are quite happy to set up a faux party for this to take place at. After all, it's an excuse to dance and have fun... and to watch Rattler act unobtrusive. Suraksha knows there will potentially be a lot of pressure on Roy in the parties she sometimes attends, so she makes no effort to make this easy for Roy. She has, in fact, quietly encouraged everyone to do the best they can to make things difficult for him, for this very reason -- she'd far rather he learn where he needs work in a friendly and welcoming atmosphere, rather than at one of the parties where he so desperately needs to hear the gossip!
The party gets going first and Roy presents himself to be inspected by 'Chana. His head is freshly-shaved and gleaming. His uniform-suit is pressed and brushed. Just about everyone has turned out for this. At least everyone that can handle faking a court-style party. That leaves Buddy, Ohkwa, Dom and some of the others to do guard duty and such. And even they are keeping half an eye on the proceedings.
The Lady Hetaera Sulochana is, as Roy already knows, quite finicky -- but then so is Fantine. She won't even let 'Chana look at Rattler until he passes her muster! Thus it takes a while, but 'Chana nods in silent satisfaction after she has inspected her new bodyguard -- and thanks Fantine for all her hard work. After that she nods once to Rattler, turning gracefully to head towards the cheerfully chattering and brilliantly dressed collection of faux party-goers in the center of the caravan circle.
Given their head, the caravaneers would have a rather raucous party. This one is restrained. The music is low-key, the dress is formal. They've even pilfered all of the rugs in the caravan to make a carpeted 'floor' under the large canopy. Rattler murmurs as they walk toward the faux-ish party (the caravaneers can't even fake a party without having fun), "We should come up with a name other than Roy or Rattler. One's me and the other sounds too thuggish..." He's careful to walk behind 'Chana, a careful half-pace. Just enough to stay out of her way but obviously at her shoulder.
Sulochana's quiet smile (which she knows Roy cannot see) holds just a hint of mischief as she gracefully sways towards the party -- and then, abruptly, she stops. She looks around as if she meant to do that, rather than surreptitiously checking as to whether Roy is paying close enough attention. Roy is watching quite closely. Probably too closely and not in the way a bodyguard should and so bumps 'Chana slightly and oofs under his breath. The chagrin is audible.
Sulochana lets herself be knocked visibly forward -- that should hopefully give the party "guests" some ammunition? Her voice is sharp but low, "James, a bit more awareness, please!" as she shakes out her skirts, lifts her chin, and steps forward again. She winks once at Sna'thaid's glamoured form, then turns on the charm and starts working the party. For all her snippiness, the Hetaera is quietly praying that her sweetheart will indeed come through with flying colors.
Rattler/James takes a deep breath and then another, letting them out slowly. His response to the sharp comment? "Yes, Lady Sulochana. Of course. My fault." He then follows her, trying to force himself into the mindset of 'James, butler and bodyguard' rather than 'Rattler, roguish roustabout' or 'Roy, king-in-exile.' He folds his hands in front of himself and takes up his position at 'Chana's shoulder as she begins moving through the party. She's never had need of a bodyguard because her own abilities in that arena are sufficient, but she was trained on how to have and use one. All of the fae that are capable of glamour have glamoured themselves into unrecognizability, the better to disorient Roy.
As 'Chana moves through the party, smiling and being charming to all and sundry, Roy sticks to his place just behind her left shoulder. It's a subtle signal that he is a servant and not an equal or something higher-ranked, such as a majordomo. As 'Chana stops to chat with a group of folks, some of whom he recognizes and some of whom he does not, a servingwoman comes up with a silver tray of wineglasses and offers them to the people in the small group, some of whom take them. Lastly, she turns to Roy with a high-wattage smile and says, "Sir? Wine?" They're being a little evil and have decanted one of Roy's favorite vintages to temp him a little.
Indeed, his nostrils flare, but he says in an accent actually thicker than his normal, "Non, merci, mam'zelle." He inclines his head slightly to indicate that the offer was appreciated. The girl playing maid steps up a little closer to Roy and lays a hand on his arm, stroking the cloth of his jacket lightly and lowers her voice, "Then perhaps another sort of refreshment?" Sulochana doesn't resist the small grin as she chats flirtatiously with the two or three individuals present, but she doesn't give any indication that she's heard a thing.
Roy looks down at the girl's hand on his arm, resists his natural urge to grin at her, and shifts his arm just enough to move it away from her touch. "I appreciate the offer, mam'zelle, but I must refuse." He keeps his polite but unengaged face on, even as the girl hmphs and sniffs as if she's been mortally insulted and flounces away. He doesn't even chuckle as she moves off, acting instead as if it never happened. What he does do, however, is immediately check his surroundings to make sure it wasn't a deliberate distraction in order to harm Sulochana.
Half hidden behind someone else, Alan nods quietly to himself -- right answer. Sulochana doesn't see that, however; instead she gets a surreptitious thumbs-up from one of the people she's chatting with. She beams delightedly at that -- first test passed! -- and mentally shifts to the next test. To the apparent gentleman murmuring to her she replies, "Why, thank you! I would love to dance!" That will put "James" on the sidelines, where Sna'tha can be rude about 'Chana.
'James' inclines his head and offers to take the light shawl 'Chana is wearing. He knows the answer will probably be 'no' as the wrap is actually part of the outfit and not an outer garment. When he's dismissed, he gives a sort of half-bow and makes his way to the edge of the crowd. He scans the area as he does so and picks a point that would put his back to the wall, were there a wall, and settles in to watch.
Sulochana deliberately focuses on her dancing partner, resisting the urge to glance towards James -- and, to make the job of her "slanderer" easier, she murmurs a soft warning and then lets her flirtation become a bit more obvious. She leans in during the turns of the dancing, and at one point makes sure James can see her fingers walking up her partner's arm as she flutters her eyelashes invitingly at him.
At the edges of the room, 'James' watches with his hands crossed in front of himself, right hand on left wrist. His main focus is 'Chana, but his eyes sweep around the party, taking in movements and looking for anyone acting out-of-place. As he's doing this, a foppish young nobleman meanders close. He's got a glass of wine in one hand and the other tucked into the pocket of his vest. The pose manages to show off the richness of his clothing and his jewelry while being meant to give a sense of the disregard of what others think.
The noble watches 'Chana with a smirk as she flirts. 'James'' hand tightens on his wrist and his lips thin slightly, but the signs are minor and not the scowl that Roy might once have worn watching 'Chana flirt with someone else. The one he did wear the night of the party that he acted like an absolute ass to her client.
There are folks around the "room" who're just passing information, and when James' lips tighten a bit, a hand signal passes to 'Chana's partner, who murmurs, "Getting a reaction. More?" She beams up at him and sighs, leaning so he can get a good, long look at her decolletage. Amusingly, when he drags his eyes back up to hers, he wryly murmurs, "So this is why Sna'tha said this'd be the most difficult acrobatics I'd ever done!"
After a moment, the fop says, "Well, she's certainly lovely, but I've never seen the need to pay Hetaera prices to get laid." His voice is slightly slurred and he looks slyly up at 'James,' "Of course, maybe that's why you work for her, hm?" James turns his attention to the fop, looks the nobleman up and down slowly, and manages to not say a single word. Instead, he goes back to watching 'Chana. He's starting to relax a little. Later, he'll tell 'Chana that the way he did it was reminding himself that she might flirt and she might have other lovers but she Chose him. The fop snorts and says, "Oh, I see. Mute as well as a eunuch? Perfect for one of those uppity little chits." James weighs whether to speak or not.
Across the room, Sulochana and Alex Sokoloff are doing their best to keep up the pressure. She giggles softly and murmurs, "Thank you for helping with this, dear. You already know the critical importance of teamwork, of course." Simultaneously she reaches up to gently trail her fingertips along his ear, slowly down his jaw line. He grins cheerfully down at her, "Oh, indeed! Shall I react naughtily?" She grins and nods, "Let's make sure we have a truly excellent team, please!" He chuckles, turning his head to catch her fingertips lightly between his lips, and she quite properly gasps and blushes prettily -- and quite improperly doesn't pull away.
The hand tightens on the wrist again, but that's the only reaction James has to the flirtation between Alex and 'Chana. The fop, however, notices and snorts again, "Well, if that's the level of man she's looking for..." He gives James a contemptuous once-over, "I wouldn't doubt if your payment is in ass." James' voice is calm and reserved, even if his accent is thick, "M'sieu, my job does not include discussing the Lady Sulochana's business." He manages to keep all signs of contempt or anger out of it, "If you have questions, I suggest you ask them of her."
It's about then that another young nobleman comes wandering up, leaning a bit tipsily against his friend and slurring slightly. "Hey, see th' pretty li'l rag inna blue dress? She wants me, I know -- I can tell!" He puts a finger along the side of his nose, then adds almost conspiratorially, "Can't wait t' ride that mare hard t'night 'n put 'er up wet!" He guffaws delightedly at his own witticism.
Sulochana's dress is, in fact, blue, and currently she's leaning so she's cheek to cheek with her partner. His hand has slid around her waist to rest rather familiarly low; the fingers, in fact, curl gently to cup her derriere. The gentleman looks roguishly as if he's trying to press her into a kiss, though what Alex is actually amusedly murmuring at that moment is, "If he punches me in the face for this, Sura, I am so demanding overtime!"
James looks the second wine-soaked noble over carefully, checking for signs that he might be dangerous to anyone but himself as the two fops laugh at their own crude witticism. His eyes go back to the dancefloor and he carefully, and literally, bites his tongue to keep himself from remarking that she's hiding rather well her desire to be slobbered on by a drunk who can't tell a woman from a horse. There are some things that one cannot say in any tone of voice.
The second fop grins and pushes his wineglass into the first one's hand and sways his way out onto the dancefloor. James' eyes pause on the placement of Alex's hand and he shifts his stance just slightly, readying himself in the case that 'Chana may decide he's being too familiar. He almost misses the departure of the more intoxicated faux-noble until the remaining one murmurs, "Oh, this will be hilarious." James thinks, but does not say he agrees. But for completely different reasons than the fop might thing.
As the drunker of the two fops moves in to try to cut into Alex and 'Chana's dance, the crowd shifts in the Brownian way of crowds at parties, cutting off any truly direct route from 'James' to his charge. At the same time, someone bumps him and then tries to apologize rather flirtatiously. He murmurs his own apologies and begins moving around the 'room.' He's not going toward 'Chana, just trying to get a better line of sight. The fop calls after him, put-out, "Where do you think you're going, eunuch?" James says, absolutely deadpan, "I need to take the air, m'sieu. Please, enjoy the party."
Sulochana and Alex pause for a moment, murmuring with the approaching "fop" -- then the gentleman bows courteously to 'Chana, who smiles and curtseys, then offers her hand to the fop. As they start dancing, 'Chana murmurs softly, "How's he doing so far, godsmama?"
The first fop scowls and follows after 'James', obviously not used to being brushed off by servants. "Now, look here, boy!" The 'boy' is particularly idiotic as the fop seems to be Roy's junior by a good ten years. He is, of course, Chanticleer in disguise.
Roy stops and turns toward Chanticleer, face politely interested, "Yes, m'sieu? Did you have some other question?" His body language has tensed slightly, shoulders squaring and jaw going slightly set, but his face and voice are calm.
Sna'thaid makes a good show of leaning far too close and whispering with a lascivious leer as she says, "He has managed not to punch Chanticleer or charge in and pummel young Alex. For Roy, I say this is good." The erstwhile assassin moves to grope at 'Chana's chest, "And now he is letting just a little intimidation show through."
'Chana murmurs quietly, "So he's... a little distracted. Shall we vanish, before the commotion?" Sna'tha nods and they shift as they dance -- and for the moment where James is looking at Chanti, the fop moves 'Chana so there's a small crowd between them and James. Another quick shift, and Sna'tha has 'Chana leaning against Ohkwari's solid, massive back -- as if the two of them had ducked into a small alcove for a moment.
Chanti pokes a finger into Roy's chest and sneers up at him, "I was speaking to you! It is rude to simply walk away from a conversation! No wonder you're a whore's handmaiden!" Roy's voice remains calm, but there is a little danger snapping in his eyes, "M'sieu, I would suggest that you find another drink and somewhere to sit while your head clears. Now, if you will excuse me, I am otherwise occupied." His gaze shifts back to the floor -- and he finds that 'Chana is not where he expected her to be. Alex is already laughing with another young lady.
The first fop/Chanticleer physically grabs Roy's arm and pulls on it to get the big man to turn slightly, voice rising tipsily, "I am not done with you, boy!"As that happens, the girl Alex was flirting with shrieks in startlement at an 'accidental' dumping of ice down her back by a server. Roy's head snaps that direction and the fop actually slaps him to get his attention.
Slowly and carefully, Roy turns back in the nobleman's direction, turning so he's facing squarely. Without looking overtly threatening to anyone around them, he lowers his voice and says, "M'sieu, I suggest again that you find a place to sit to clear your head." He unclasps his hands and smiles. It's a charming smile and shows a lot of teeth, "It will keep you from having a very bad headache tomorrow. Or possibly some sprained ribs. Now, please excuse me?" His heart-rate has sped up and it shows in the dilate of his pupils.
Chanti, in the guise of a tipsy but not very martial fop, takes a startled step back and Roy uses it to move through the crowd looking for 'Chana. He is keeping his body language casual and manages a passable meander while keeping his eyes and ears as open as he can. It doesn't through that he's cursing himself for losing his charge.
The "crowd" is working overtime in this wonderful -- and useful -- game! With Sna'tha's assistance, 'Chana manages to slowly circle the amusedly stolid Ohkwa so he remains between them and James. It's when James is no longer facing them that the two women step out into view again. This time Sna'thaid is the aggressively tipsy fop again, so when James turns, he'll be able to spot first thing an angry 'Chana and a lecherous fop -- and again, there'll be people scattered distractingly, moving between them so he can't see clearly.
[Previous Log] [Index] [Next Log]