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 Posted: Wed Jun 26, 2013 9:50 pm
Who: Cesc and Melisande
Where: Vermillion bakery
When: Early morning
Weather: Partly cloudy, rain possibly on the horizon
Clap, clap!
The noise was loud in the quiet of the bakery, the lights on but the sign not yet pointed toward open. The tables and chairs, the few that there were, were set, and the morning loaves of bread were happily baking in the back ovens. The scent of warmth and yeast floated over the bakery heavily, mixing with the reassuring scent of coffee and the dancing pleasantness of the ever-present cream and sugar.
Rhedefre stood alone behind the counter, pulling on a plain black apron, humming to himself over the silence. He had just returned from a morning feeding, completed his chores -- for it was his turn to open that day -- and felt a contentedness wash over him.
"Well, if you're blue, and you don't know where to go to, why don't you go where fashion sits..." he sang quietly, arranging the cookies in the front display case, absorbed in his task.
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Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2013 9:25 am
The cab pulled up quietly, and surprisingly, the driver exited to hurry around to the rear passenger door. He opened it wide, and bowed like a limo driver as the Muse unfolded from within. Even with her hair mussed, ringlets roughly pinned and grey peacoat held shut with one hand, she must have looked grand enough for the gesture. They exchanged a few words in the early morning, and the driver shook his head, patting his chest pocket. Melisande dipped her head in thanks, and he blushed as though he'd earned a kiss.
Finally, the cab trundled back off down the street, leaving Pasha alone.
She gazed at the bakery, for a moment seeing only her own reflection in the wide windows. One hand lifted and she twisted a curl back into place around her finger, letting it slip free with a rueful smile. As her focus changed, she saw through the window, and another image juxtaposed with hers. For just a moment, their faces lined up, and Melisande's hair tinged pink. The ghosts of two antlers seemed to peek out from her mess of curls. Cesc!!
The image was so delightful that she laughed, and the sweet sound set the birds to calling back. Pasha lifted one hand and rolled her fingers in greeting, now seeing only the Frei within.
She'd found it!!
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Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2013 10:59 am
There was the sound of a car idling, of a door opening and shutting, and Rhedefre continued to work, singing his soft song and organizing cookies. It was only when the sound of the car disappeared into the distance -- then his ears perked up at attention, the animal part of him recognizing something his Raevan mind had not yet noticed. He looked up, golden eyes flicking upwards just as though checking that all was normal and back down again -- and then, just as swiftly, back up. All was not, most certainly and gloriously, not normal.
A wide and true smile bloomed over the stag's face. His song silenced with a note of surprise and he set down his tongs and tray on the counter, floating around the counter as he lifted a hand up to wave to Melisande in return. What a surprise! He had hardly expected to see the muse seeking him out in such a way. Did she want cookies, perhaps? Some sweets ?
Although most of him spoke pleasure at seeing her, this golden sun goddess that had sparked his talent, a tiny part of him steeled itself to unlock the barrier between them. She glowed inwardly from all her talents, all her celestial beauty, but she also radiated loss for Cesc, and for that, oh. He only wished he knew the way to lead her.
The stag held up a finger and unlocked the front door, swinging it open and holding it there for the muse.
"Melisande," he said in a tone of deep pleasure, his calm eyes meeting hers. "Good morning! What a lovely surprise for me."
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Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2013 3:27 pm
Pasha didn't hesitate, drifting towards Cesc and the open door. Everything about the bakery radiated safety, warmth, and home. She settled a hand lightly on Rhedefre's chest, and leaned in to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Oh, good morning! Am I welcome? I know it's early..."
It was so nice to be in the Frei's presence. Her night with Laz and Rivener had been fun, but her memory of the evening was like listening to discordant music. Every time she thought on it too long, the poor Muse ended up with a headache. She drifted back again, giving Cesc his space, and shared a fond smile with the young Stag. "It's truly wonderful to see you again. I apologize for the unexpected visit!"
Melisande tactfully didn't mention that she had no where else to go. Cesc would have still been one of her top choices, even if she had the world open to her!
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Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2013 8:54 pm
At the kiss on his cheek, Rhedefre's ears perked up with surprise, and he smiled almost bashfully at the motion, closing the door behind them. As she spoke, he could not shake his head quickly enough, and swept open an arm to invite her further into the quiet bakery.
"An apology, my God," the stag laughed brightly, the sound lilting and earnest. "Never apologize, Melisande, my home is open to you whenever you should decide to visit. I am a very early riser -- before dawn every day, so there is no need to worry about inconvenience. Come in, come in."
He stayed close, unsure of what to offer her. Should he offer her a chair? Take her behind the counter? Offer her goods or show him his house? She seemed, for all her magnificence and beauty, somewhat less put together than the last time he saw her; but then, he had never seen her as anything less than perfectly put together, even in her distress. "Can I take your coat? Offer you a coffee? I do not know what you like, but we are baking many things fresh for the morning."
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Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2013 9:32 pm
Pasha laughed, despite herself, at the invitation from Cesc. It truly was like coming home. She slipped out of her woolen grey peacoat gratefully, and offered it to him with a smile that dimpled with thanks. Underneath it, she wore a men's grey dress shirt...fitted, but the sleeves were obviously too long. Pasha rolled them up with graceful, deliberate twists as he tucked her coat away.
"Tea?" She suggested, wistfully. "Jasmine, or lady grey?" Her conscience whispered instantly, and Melisande paused. "I was out with Rivener and Lazarus last night," She admitted, smoothing the shirt down her sides. She still wore her cobalt corset underneath it. "...I don't have my wallet on me. I could offer a hand in trade?" She had worked for clothes in Vi's thrift shop before, the concept was not offensive to the Muse. There had been a time where Pasha had no appreciation of the value of money, but that was a long time ago.
"What prep do you have?" Her time in the restaurant industry had left her educated. Melisande's smile was bright amid her mussed curls. "When do you open?"
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Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2013 9:56 pm
Cesc took Pasha's coat and hung it on a rack close to the counter, a pretty little hook made from a bent spoon. He opened the barrier to the counter and left it open, should she decide to follow, taking one of the ceramic mugs from the service area and holding it beneath the hot water dispenser. A plume of steam rose from the glass as he left it to be filled, then he opened a jar of loose lady grey blend. He measured out an amount in a small tea strainer and then set it in the mug to steep. His motions were all smooth, all practiced and quick and graceful.
"Oh -- no, you are too kind," said the stag with a smile, turning back toward her. "You are visiting a friend, not a shop. Do you take cream or lemon?"
Rhede leaned on his elbows, looking at her as she spoke. So they went out the night before! Perhaps they were nearby, the lot of them, and she stopped by for a morning's hello. Shepard and Vivi now and then also stayed out on their days off, and did not come back until the time to prep and open came. "It sounds like fun -- they are good company, are they not?"
At her next question, he pulled himself back up to his normal high-floating height to check the time, the black apron rippling with his motion as he did so. "In about an hour. I have a few things to decorate, if you would like to see, but other than that it is just taking things out of the oven and arranging them." He smiled at her knowledge and fixed her with a teasing glance. "Do you work in a similar field? I did not think you told me you baked..."
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Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2013 10:27 pm
"Nothing, thank you." Her eyes were already drawn to the steaming cup. How elegantly he had made it! She smiled a bit self consciously as he questioned the evening, and pulled the mug a little closer to warm her hands as it steeped.
"They were fine company, yes. We went to a pub! The whole experience was very...new for me." Pasha's rueful smile spoke clearer than her words. She lifted her gaze as he floated higher, and tilted her head as she regarded the Frei. He was so professional, and so young. She was proud of him, though she had no right to be.
Melisande brightened at the mention of decorating and taking things out of the oven. Her eyes narrowed in a smile at his playful glance. "I'd love to see! And I've never baked, but I sing..." She was getting better at this. The Muse barely flinched, and her smile stayed put. "...used to sing at a cafe. There wasn't much for me to do until the rush, so I tried to help with prep."
She pulled the mug closer and pursed her lips, blowing at the steam lightly. "Do you think I could wash up after tea, and lend a hand? I don't have much to do today, and I would hate to take you away from work..."
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Posted: Fri Jun 28, 2013 2:05 pm
Cesc listened to her keenly, his gaze direct and earnest. He, too, was getting used to this -- as she most certainly did not flinch, there were ripples in that aura of loss (how far-reaching it was! he could no longer even tell what was missing, it seemed so much), but he did not wince or register the pain visibly. It was nothing. He would have taken it all from her, could he have. But this was nothing special. Anyone, he knew, would have borne any pain to spare this sweetest of women.
"I will not do this thing that many do," said Rhedefre in his warm voice, the quality of it as comforting and quiet as the rising of the steam on her tea. "Where a person bothers a singer to sing for them. But I will say that, should you ever choose to, you have willing ears in these of mine."
There was something musical in the way Rhedefre said the word 'singer', for his accent could not bear a word beginning in 's', but would add an 'e' in front of it to make it easier for his lazy tongue to say. He was sometimes self-conscious about the quality of his words, and faced with the clear and bell-like quality of Melisande's voice, he felt that sense of humility. He hoped, one day, that he would have the pleasure of hearing her voice lifted in song. That she would be magnificent, he took as granted.
"Ah, of course!" The stag brightened at her offer. "You may stay until world's end, if you please, we are always happy to see you. Whenever you are done, I can take you to the bathroom upstairs. I promised you before, I think, that I would show you how to decorate something good, in any case. I will do my best and make good on that." He held up one arm in a flexing motion, as if showcasing some kind of power, then laughed a bright, rolling laugh.
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Posted: Fri Jun 28, 2013 2:51 pm
Melisande's eyes closed with a smile at Cesc's sweet words, and she inhaled the fragrant steam. When her eyes opened again, she seemed a little more centered. Or, perhaps, resigned. "I'm not sure if I will be singing much longer at all." She didn't elaborate on the choice...the ultimatum...the full Muses had given her. Pasha hadn't yet made her choice; give up her song, or give up her power to inspire others. In truth, she didn't have much experience with the latter...not intentionally, anyway. She lifted the mug and took a tentative sip, and relaxed at the delicious warmth. Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity!
"But I could teach you, if you would like. You have a lovely voice, I'm sure it would be a very different kind of treat to hear you sing." Her smile dimpled at her little bakery joke, and the Sigel took another sip. Her pale hands held the cup reverently, close to her face. The warmth made her cheeks pink, and left a glittering hint of steam on her nose and lips. Pasha was beginning to feel more like herself...last night had taken more of a toll on her than she'd realized!
"And if not that, what do you enjoy? Aside from your work here."
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Posted: Fri Jun 28, 2013 9:53 pm
Cesc inclined his head in confusion as the muse spoke, wondering what would keep her from continuing to sing. He supposed there were plenty of reasons -- loss of interest, a tired throat, long hours... but somehow it seemed more than that, although what he could not guess. He merely watched her in silence, and hoped she knew that she could tell him, should she wish.
He smiled a self-depreciating smile at her suggestion, rubbing the nape of his neck in a gesture of somewhat amused discomfort. Him, sing? He did sometimes, certainly, but only to himself, and only for the fun of it. With his accent, surely a song would sound a bit silly! "If you would like for me to sing for you, I am certain I could not resist. Have you ever taught before?"
Rhedefre paused, thinking. The question took him by surprise, and his eyebrows lifted as he drew in a breath, looking up at the ceiling. He felt odd talking about himself when he would rather hear about her. "My other interests... I play baseball, and I read, and I like to explore the outdoors and meet others. Ah -- you know, I came across a book that mentioned your name the other day, actually. The story of a beautiful Lady Melisande. And you, what do you enjoy to do?"
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Posted: Sat Jun 29, 2013 9:36 am
"I haven't..." Melisande admitted, punctuating with another dainty sip. "But I could." There was no hint of bragging in her sweet voice, just a quiet confidence as she made the offer to Cesc. Pasha listened to his interests, smiling at the way he shifted. Was he not comfortable talking about himself? "I've never played baseball...I'd like to watch, someday?"
She paused mid sip as he mentioned her name, and set the half empty mug back on the counter. "What book, if you recall? I would like to read it!" He returned the subject to her interests, and she blushed, recalling the mug to its place below her chin.
"I like to read, and I love taking baths." It wasn't a usual hobby for most people, but Melisande had practically made an art of it. "And I enjoy going to the shore, and looking out at the waves just before a storm." If Rhedefre could sense loss, surely those words were poignant. It had been so many years, and not a day went by that she didn't think of her lost love. She smiled bravely over the rim of her mug, took one more sip, and set it down with finality.
"I don't mean to hold you up, I know you have things to do! The case looks amazing." The Muse said wistfully, letting her eyes trail over the delicate shapes and colors under glass. "Thank you very much for the tea. Would you show me to the wash room, and I'll get myself in order? I'd still love to help!"
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Posted: Sun Jun 30, 2013 8:33 pm
"If you are ever in the mood, I would love to take you to a game. They sing in baseball, you know, the anthem and then 'Take Me Out to the Ballgame.' I am certain a team would love to have you sing for them one day," said Cesc with a smile, trying not to sound too enthused. He did love the game, and there was nothing he liked more than introducing others to it. The leisurely pace that allowed for conversation and laughter, the silent interplay between a batter and the pitcher, the motion of throws and the gleeful sensation of watching diving catches and desperate runs -- there was nothing better. He paused then, reorienting himself to her question, squinting with his effort to remember the book. Then he snapped, brightening as the name returned to him.
"It was actually a funny book, The Code of the Woosters," he said at last. "A romantic woman was comparing her love to that of a Lady Melisande, and the wife of the Lord of Tripoli. It was nothing, just a paragraph, but I enjoyed seeing your name there."
In a moment, though, the smile all but melted from his face. It was with some effort that Cesc kept it there as she spoke of her pleasures, and it felt like a wave of hurt washed into his heart, distant and empty. Overwhelmingly, he felt the desire to rush to her, to envelop her in his arms, to hide her from the pain that was dwelling inside her.
For the first time, he knew for certain that this, this loss she bore, was not solvable. Not findable. Not anything.
Just loss.
Just hurt.
And while nothing in the world deserved such pain, more than ever he wished he could spare her from it.
But he did not rush, or hold, or do anything untoward. Instead, he offered her a thin sort of smile, with eyes full of sympathy and understanding that he could not give word to. And then the moment was gone, as she put down her mug and went onto another topic, and Cesc thought to himself, in the corner of his mind, that, oh, he would give his whole self to find what she missed.
"Ah, do not worry -- you are not holding me up. Here, the bathroom is up these stairs," said the stag, regaining his cheeriness, waving her up into the residence portion of the bakery. The second floor was still quiet, but the door was ajar to his and Shepard's bathroom, and he waved the muse to it. It was clearly a bathroom shared by two neat men, clean but without decoration, plain blue walls and plain white towels and shaving equipment, with a man's deodorant and cologne and aftershave. Rhedefre had the courtesy to look mildly embarrassed.
"Here we are... ah, the decorating may get you dirty, would you like a change of clothes? I am certain you would fit into something of Vivi's.
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Posted: Mon Jul 01, 2013 4:06 pm
"I will have to read it!" She'd only come across her name once, on a playbill for the opera Pelleas et Melisande, starring Aria d'Pasha. She'd read the synopsis of the opera...The Code of the Woosters certainly sounded less grim. "And I'd love to go to a game. Thank you, Cesc." She said his name sweetly, genuinely appreciating the depth of his kindness. For all the admiration that seemed to be directed at her, the Muse was rarely invited out. An afternoon out with the Frei sounded wonderful.
She followed him up to the bathroom, and smiled warmly at his offer. "Vivi's? Oh...I couldn't." Vi's thrift store had taught her the value of hand me downs, but she'd always paid for those. Borrowing, especially when the woman wasn't there, just didn't seem right. "Thank you, though! Perhaps just an apron?"
Pasha inclined her head to Rhedefre's plain black apron, and smiled again. She'd never worn an apron before! "I'll just be a few minutes! I'll meet you back downstairs!"
Melisande waited until he excused himself to shut the door. She turned her back to the door and leaned against it, curls catching on the towel hook as she took a deep breath. The Muse was exhausted, but Cesc's kind attentions were truly helping. The Sigel pushed away from the door and made her way to the spartan mirror...turning first this way, then that.
After she was fixed up, she would see what she could do to help the Stag, for once. After all, he'd always been there for her!
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Posted: Mon Jul 01, 2013 8:43 pm
"Let me know if you need anything," said the stag, before he turned and allowed the muse her privacy. A wrinkle formed in his brow: he should have taken her up to Vivi's bathroom, but there was a chance the Frenchwoman might still be asleep.
Rhedefre waited until the door shut to let his smile fade. He paused momentarily, there in the landing, feeling strangely... empty out of the muse's company. He narrowed his eyes and looked around himself, flexing his fingers. Something, he knew, was not right with her. Something beyond that aching loss -- beyond the song of grief he now knew to be a part of her. God, that it was his place to listen, to know, to help...
Did she need something? A shoulder to cry on, a place to stay, something, anything he could provide? Just a smiling face, a distraction for an hour or two?
Rhedefre rubbed the back of his neck. He knew what he had was unfair, the ability to sense the pain. He knew it was not earned, but a power given, and ironically, a power heightened and first experienced with Melisande, herself. But it was unfair, nonetheless, and he knew he could not press his advantage. If he was needed, he would be asked. Surely. Or so he hoped.
He floated into his bedroom and took one of the books from his nightstand, Code of the Woosters. He floated back down the stairs to the prep and baking area, put the book on a side counter, and took one of the black aprons from the hook -- one of the ones with black ruffles on the edges, that Vivi made for herself -- and put it aside, as well. Then he pulled out the fresh baguettes from the ovens and set them aside on a metal rack to cool.
Rhedefre saw a line of red velvet cupcakes he'd taken out an hour earlier, now ready for decorating. He rolled up his sleeves, carefully and neatly, to the elbows, and began to prepare a piping bag of frosting for them. He tried out a few quick lines on one of the cupcakes, testing the consistency and flow of the frosting. A little rose, blush pink, not quite blossomed.
He pulled back, humming softly, and smiled at it.
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