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 Posted: Wed Jul 03, 2013 8:24 pm
Pasha shook her head at her reflection, and ran her fingers back through her curls. She twisted them expertly back into a bun, and pulled it tight enough that it stayed under its own power. Her fingers worked down the buttons of Riv's dress shirt just as swiftly, and the Muse hung it carefully on the hook on the back of the door. Gracefully, she plucked a clean washcloth from the stack and started the warm water running.
This was the first time she'd been truly alone in almost twenty-four hours. Alone, and with no where to go. She took another deep breath, and soaked the white washcloth. She was distracting herself. The pub, the overnight, the bakery...none of it addressed the terrible choice that still hung over her. None of it addressed Alain's anger.
Melisande wrung out the hot cloth and pressed it to her face with a sigh. The heat felt amazing...slowly, the blossoms at her temples unfurled. A light, floral breath filled the small bathroom...riding on the steam and challenging the masculine energy of the space.
She brought the cloth up both cheeks gently, then down her neck and arms. It felt amazing, even if it wasn't a true bath. Eyes closed, the Muse finished her brightening, and rinsed the washcloth under hot water yet again. She wore only her cobalt blue corset from the night before...an evening look, to be sure, but it would be fine under one of Cesc's aprons.
She hoped.
Pasha folded the cloth and set it in the little basket on the floor. She left her hair in its bun, and washed her hands before cracking the door open.
"Thank you!" She called down the stairs, taking a breath of the bakery scented air once she was out of the steamy bathroom. It smelled amazing. "May I join you?"
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Posted: Thu Jul 04, 2013 11:07 pm
Cesc looked up as Pasha floated down the stairs, having to do a double-take as he saw the gorgeous blue corset that had been hiding beneath the oversized grey shirt she wore earlier. It was a conscious effort he gave not to stare or look struck by her beauty, the pinkness in her cheeks and shoulders from the warmth of the bathroom. He smiled and set down his pastry bag and shook his head.
"You look beautiful," he said brightly to the muse, greeting her again. "And please, of course, join me! But -- surely I can offer you something more comfortable than a corset to decorate in? Here--"
He floated to one side of the bakery, ducking into the closet where the aprons hung. There were a few t-shirts there, plain black ones with the word 'Vermillion' across the front and the store logo of a stylized big-top circus tent, made for use when the crew needed to cater affairs when identifying themselves as staff was necessary. He took one of Vivi's, one that would surely fit the muse, and floated back out. "Would this work?"
Rhedefre offered the shirt and the ruffled apron he'd pulled out, both. His voice was genial as he continued. "Believe me, it is only when I wear something nice that a frosting bag explodes onto me."
Having done so, he nodded at the line of red velvet cupcakes, still smiling. "If you like, I can show you how to make a flower?"
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Posted: Sat Jul 06, 2013 2:00 pm
"Thank you." She lowered her eyes, demurely, but Cesc's compliment only heightened the kiss of pink in her cheeks. There was something so comforting about his attentions...
Pasha suddenly imagined laying below a cherry tree with the Frei, gazing up at patches of blue sky through the ruffled blooming branches. He would be excellent company, she decided. It was a shame the trees had finished blooming. She accepted the shirt and apron with a grateful nod, and laid the apron over the back of a chair as she slipped the tee on right over her corset. It was still a bit large...Melisande didn't have the chest to fill out a loose shirt, even with a corset on, so she tied the slack into a quick knot behind her back.
She slipped into the apron just as easily, and smiled down at the feminine fringe. The idea of a stylish bakery was very exciting! "Frosting bags explode?" Pasha asked, raising her eyes as she looped the apron strings around and tied them in a bow in front. "This is a dangerous line of work!"
Her laughter was bright, and she drifted down to examine the row of red velvet cupcakes. Meli was feeling better than she had in days...she gave Cesc's arm a fond squeeze as she drew up along side him.
"I would love to learn. What's first?"
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Posted: Mon Jul 08, 2013 3:32 pm
Rhedefre felt his heart skip a beat as the muse lowered her eyes, and the feeling surprised him. He thought to himself suddenly that she must have that effect on everyone she met, the sort of innocent inspired devotion that the very sight of her gave. What a strange burden it must be! He wondered -- did she have many friends? Were there any who took fond liberties with her, or who made jokes for the purpose of making her truly laugh, or who simply chatted with her for the joy of her company? She was fun to be around, truly. There had to be many who knew it.
He was happy to know it, himself.
"Yes," he said, in a tone of mock seriousness, his bright eyes alighting briefly on her. "I have a few shirts who have gone very honourably in a cake's service.
He held up the piping bag for her to see, uncurling his fingers so that she could see the open end of it, where the frosting went in. Inside was a soft pink-colored frosting, the sweet smell of it wafting upward as he held it out to her to see.
"You cannot put too much inside, or when you squeeze it--" Cesc flexed his fingers gently, so she could see it rising toward the open end. "--it all rushes, and you are instantly a mess. Blam! You never see it coming until it is too late."
He laughed a little, shaking his head, and then shook the bag slightly to get all the frosting back in. The clear bag was only filled about a third of the way, and there was another bag resting on the table. Beside the row of red velvet cupcakes were kitchen shears, a few bottles of food coloring, and two strange-looking devices: 3" round, flat, silver metal objects with short little stems -- like flattened doorknobs, almost.
"Here, this bag is for you," said the stag, nodding at the other piping bag, already filled lowly with frosting and fitted with the proper tip. He lifted one of the silver objects by its stem, holding it like a tiny platter between his forefinger and thumb. "We are going to make roses, to put on the cupcakes. It is not so hard. Just, like this..."
Rhedefre piped a small conical blob of icing onto the middle of the silver platter. Around this, with his piping nib flat up-and-down, he created slim ribbons of frosting, first creating a tight little bud, and then beginning to make petals -- as he did so, his gaze flicked quickly to and from Melisande, looking at his work and then back at her, over and over. He worked in a deliberate sort of pace, not too fast or too slow, allowing her to see his motions.
In the end, however, the little pink flower he created did not look quite like a rose, but rather like one of the blossoms in Melisande's hair. When he finished, he broke into a grin, holding the metal salve up to her.
"Voila," Rhedefre said with a little breathed laugh. "Not a rose, no, but just as good?"
He lowered the rose nail and gently extracted the rose with kitchen shears, setting the pink flower atop a red velvet cupcake and setting it before Melisande. "For you, whenever you'd like it. Would you like to try to make one?"
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Posted: Mon Jul 15, 2013 9:15 am
Pasha met Cesc's eyes, and the moment of silence stretched. He looked so happy that her smile dimpled, deepening. It felt amazing, just to have someone to talk to, to laugh with.
She reigned in her smile to match his serious demeanor, and lowered her head for a moment of silence over his fallen shirts. When she lifted her eyes again, her smile was back, and she accepted her bag and watched the procedure with rapt attention.
"That's amazing! It..." Her breath caught, and she looked from the blossom to Rhedefre's face. "It looks like mine!" The delight was evident in her voice, and she cupped her hands around the cupcake delicately and lifted it to her face. The Sigel's eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she inhaled, smiling at the sweet scent of the icing. "You're amazing!"
She settled the cupcake back on the counter and hefted her bag, holding the little metal spinner carefully with her other hand. A little pressure, and the Muse made her first petal...awkward and slumped, like a little turtle on a plate.
Her laugh brightened the bakery. She added another 'petal' and the turtle had a blanket. "Oh, Cesc! I'm terrible at this!"
Melisande didn't sound at all disappointed.
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Posted: Mon Jul 15, 2013 12:09 pm
A laugh, unrestrained in its pleasure, thrummed from the stag's chest. For all his smiles, the one he wore now seemed the most genuinely happy, completely unfettered, even breaking through the aura of calmness the stag usually held about himself. It was obvious from a single look how much he was enjoying being with the muse. He made a little bow at her compliment, silly but sweet. Cesc could not think of quite the right thing to say in return.
As she struggled with her first flower, he laughed again.
"Will you think me very rude," he said, leaning a touch closer to her as he worked on another rose of his own, his warm eyes twinkling just a bit with amusement, "if I were to tell you I am actually a little relieved? I thought perhaps I would show you once and you would make a mountain of perfect ones and make a bit of a fool of me."
He winked, showing that he was teasing, and indicated the turtle-blanket on her rose nail. "But you sell yourself short! The first two strokes never a full flower make, ah? And whatever you make, it will be perfect, all the same."
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Posted: Wed Jul 17, 2013 8:57 am
"I'm holding back." Melisande confided, shooting him a sidelong look of contrived sympathy. "I was going to do an entire icing bouquet, but I'd hate to be rude." She pressed her lips together, trying to hide the rising smile. It was very easy to smile around Cesc.
She added a few more petals, and held the rose up again for inspection. Melisande nibbled her lip as she twisted her flower first one way, then the other. "Well, I don't know how your flower is going, but my winged turtle is almost complete." She showed it to Cesc, and could no longer keep a straight face. Her smile was dazzling...not the usual sweet curve of her lips, but a true grin. She offered it to the Frei like a maiden offering a token.
"For you, sweet Cesc! Inspiration for your new line of creature cupcakes!!"
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Posted: Thu Jul 18, 2013 4:07 pm
Cesc laughed again, that warm, rhythmic sound, his eyes light with mirth. He continued work on the next cupcake, working a bit fast this time than when he had showed her, but he flicked his eyes up to Melisande often as he did so. "Ah," he said, fondly. "What a lady! Looking out for a man's ego in this way.
When she presented him with her rose nail, Cesc looked up at her and saw her posture, and her smile. For a moment, he forgot air -- not just to take a breath, not just breathing, but oxygen itself. It was not a feeling of attraction -- it was the feeling of being struck unexpectedly. She was sunlight. She was sugar and cream! The summer's first strawberries. He grappled for the right comparison, but his brain refused to help. The stag was forced to drop his eyes to the rose he was crafting, like a reboot, and then back up at her.
"Well, this is a masterpiece indeed," said Rhedefre amiably, taking her crafted rose with every evidence of deep pleasure. He held it up like a jeweler inspecting a diamond. "Yes, yes... the lumps on its back, you can see this a Galapagos tortoise, what craftsmanship!
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Posted: Thu Jul 18, 2013 4:20 pm
"Can you truly?!" She gasped, and threw her arms around Rhedefre's neck, still holding her icing bag. "I've finally found a worthy audience! Quickly, I need a new stand, I believe a kumamoto oyster will be next!" Laughing, she squeezed the Frei playfully before releasing him, and set her icing bag carefully on the counter.
"Well, perhaps I should stop showing off. I think I will enjoy this one, if I may, and watch you work instead." She reclaimed the red velvet cupcake with the Pasha flower from the counter, and held it gently on one hand, admiring it before pinching a bit of the cake between the fingers of her other hand.
The Muse savored the bite slowly, looking from the still unblemished frosting flower to Cesc's beaming face.
"It's delicious." She said honestly, eyes half closed. Since becoming a Sigel, she'd begun to truly appreciate food, and she was beginning to think that the bakery would soon become her new favorite place.
"Do you have a favorite treat?" She took another pinch of the cupcake, tilting her head back to drop the morsel daintily in her mouth without mess.
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Posted: Sat Jul 20, 2013 1:29 pm
The sound of warm laughter returned as Melisande put her arms around his neck, and the frei pressed his closed hand, still clutching the rose nail carefully and levelly, to the muse's back. His other hand he kept still, so as not to upset the piping bag's contents (heaven forbid!) on the beautiful muse. Rhedefre was just a touch pink at the cheeks when Pasha pulled away and set down her icing bag, still getting used to the aura of brilliance the muse could not help but radiate.
"Well, know that I wait with baited breath for your next masterpiece!" said Cesc, his tone still tinged with laughter. As she watched, another rose unfolded with impressive speed under his gentle ministrations. He snipped this one cleanly, and then another. He did not look up as the muse complimented the cupcake, but he did smile widely.
"I cannot say how pleased I am to hear that!" he said, flicking golden eyes up to her momentarily, working deftly on another flower. "Although I cannot take the compliment -- the cupcakes are Vivi's recipe. I will pass it along to her, all the same."
When the Muse asked her question, however, Cesc's smile became a touch lopsided. He placed the new rose onto its cupcake and then set down his piping bag, nodding to himself.
"Ah, now you have asked me something interesting." He looked at her, his eyes bright. "I will tell you, but it is quite the opposite of -- how should I say it? -- it is not dazzling, my favorite treat."
Cesc rubbed his hands together as he spoke, checking his hands for signs of frosting (none!), and held up a finger, floating to the large bakery refrigerator. He opened its door, disappearing a moment, and then emerged with two of the plumpest, reddest strawberries in one hand, and a silver mixing bowl in the other. He held the strawberries gently by their stems, turning on a faucet with his elbow, and rinsing them quickly. He dabbed them on a clean, folded towel, and then, with something of a flourish, dipped them into the mixing bowl.
"Voila!" he said, like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat, presenting the Muse with a fresh-whipped-cream topped strawberry. He kept the other, for himself, and raised it like one does when toasting a drink. "My favorite treat."
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 8:16 pm
Melisande watched with wide eyes as Cesc embarked upon making his favorite treat. What would it be? A vanilla bean cake with rose icing? A dark chocolate truffle with mint ganache? Her lips parted in delight as he finally produced a perfect strawberry tipped with whipped cream. The Muse accepted hers gracefully, setting the cupcake back onto the counter.
"I love berries." She murmured, turning the treat slowly. There wasn't much craft that had gone into it, but it looked like art nonetheless. She remembered, briefly, the first time she'd had a cherry...the way it had slid down the side of her sundae, and how Aki had laughed. The thought of Aki threatened to snatch at her happiness, so Pasha deftly buried the thought once again.
Today was a day for smiles.
Smile she did, as she moved the treat forward and carefully touched it to Cesc's as though clinking glasses. The whipped cream melded for a moment, and parted only reluctantly, like lovers breaking a kiss. "To a beautiful morning! Thank you, my friend."
Pasha's eyes flicked upward, catching the Frei's for a moment as she took a bite. It wasn't a flirt, Melisande had never truly tried her hand at those. Instead, it was a moment of honesty, and the genuine sparkle in her glance reflected that. She dropped her eyes again, cheeks coloring as she savored the little bite.
"Hmmm~"
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Posted: Tue Aug 13, 2013 6:47 pm
There it was again, that angel's expression. How beautiful the earnest blue of her eyes, suddenly not the color of diamond glint or sapphire but rather like rows and rows of blooming hyacinth. The sweet and living pink of her cheeks. Like she had closed some ethereal distance and allowed herself to be human. Cesc felt as though the muse had some power over time -- or at least, swayed it as she did everything -- because he felt pinned suddenly to the moment, looking at her.
The pain he felt from her felt distant then, broken glass covered in a blanket.
"To a beautiful morning," repeated the stag, taking a bite of his own strawberry. As a frei, he rarely craved or allowed himself human food, but there were things he adored the smell and taste of. Berries, sugar, fresh cream -- these were all his favorite things together. He enjoyed the bite, and then the next one, musing.
"It is a lovely morning," he said in a low, sort of wondering tone, flicking his eyes back up at Melisande. He smiled again, taking the second bite of his strawberry and putting the stem in a nearby trashcan, then wiping his hands on a towel. "An unexpectedly lovely one, seeing you. Tell me, what witchcraft does one perform to have this happen more often? I will happily learn it to see you more than once in every white ... no... is it a blue moon that comes not-so-often?"
Cesc inclined his head with a sort of humility, taking up his pastry bag again, not wanting to seem like he was putting the muse on the spot. He slowly crafted another rose of frosting. He said, with a kind of half-embarrassed sweetness: "I could sing you something, and then perhaps you will take me as a pupil, ah?"
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Posted: Tue Aug 13, 2013 10:46 pm
Pasha finished her treat, something she rarely did. It was an old habit to leave a bite, or a sip. It wasn't a lack of a frugal nature, but an ingrained hospitable gesture of thank you, what you have given is enough. She drew the green stem back out from between her lips, and she dropped it daintily in the bin after Cesc's. "That was delicious!"
"A blue moon." She confirmed with a sweet murmur. "I...apologize for that." Melisande wanted to say that it would change...that she would be here more often, that they could repeat this morning again and again and again.
She truly did.
But the Choice still haunted her. It weighed on her as watched the Frei create another beautiful blossom, and she laid one arm low across her apron absently for comfort. It was amazing the way he could make something so lovely from nothing, and the motions of it were so soothing that she'd nearly missed his question.
"You would...sing for me?" Pasha looked like her breath had been snatched away. Rivener had sung for her once...a teasing rendition of a child's song, but this sounded like something else entirely.
Melisande's wings snapped open, stretching to an impressive span for a moment before she closed them and lifted gracefully into the air. Just as delicately, she 'settled' down on the counter...palms pressing against the cool surface as she leaned towards Rhedefre.
"I would love that."
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Posted: Sat Aug 24, 2013 9:55 pm
Well, she hadn't said yes, had she?
Cesc's smile faltered just slightly as the muse hemmed and hawed, his ears flickering gently. She apologized, and she halted, but she had not said that she meant to see the stag more often, or make her face more known around the bakery. Inwardly, Rhedefre chided himself. Why had he asked? Or rather, why had he allowed himself to get so comfortable as to ask? He knew that she was dealing with something. Some loss, something out of his capacity to help, or guide, or soothe.
He waved a hand with a pastry bag, shaking his head. His voice was gentle and low and warm as he spoke. "No, do not do that. Do not apologize, ah? Just know that my door is always open, and that you are welcome whenever you should desire."
Cesc paused then, and when he lifted his eyes, he was stunned to see the effect his off-hand offer had on the muse. Her wings opened like a dove's, white and crisp and clean. She was like an angel descending, bathed in morning light that made her hair and eyes shine as if lit from within.
He wanted to say no. His immediate impulse was to shake his head and laugh and make an excuse. He could not sing in front of her, the divine creature, his sweet friend.
But she was his friend, and she did desire it, and he was fairly certain she would not laugh.
And besides, there was one song that crawled into his throat. One song he could certainly, should certainly, sing her. Something that reminded him of her, of what she made him feel sometimes when she was near and unguarded. Of what rolled off of her.
"Alright," said Cesc, looking back down at his cupcakes, piping another rose onto a nail head. His bright, honey-colored eyes found hers. "But you shall not laugh, even if I am terrible?"
An embarrassment colored his cheeks slightly. "... please."
Cesc drew in a breath. It was so quiet suddenly, so quiet, in the bakery. He felt as though he had an audience in all the pots and pans, and with this celestial being that may as well have been his mind's creation, sitting there across from him. He felt humble and unused to such attention.
He began to sing, his warm, rich voice at first quiet, like a prayer.
"I heard there was a secret chord,
that David played
and it pleased the Lord --
but you don't really care for music,
do you?"
His voice climbed and he dropped his eyes to the work of his hands, still piping, trying to keep a tremble out of his voice. In the back of his mind, he could feel himself unsettled. His voice was musical but accented, different, and what if it was not pleasing?
"It goes like this:
The fourth, the fifth,
the minor fall and the major lift,
the baffled king composing hallelujah,
hallelujah, hallelujah,
hallelujah, hallelujah...
Cesc's next breath shook as he pulled it in. He clipped the rose he made and set it on a cupcake, his voice shaking just slightly as he started the next verse.
"Your faith was strong,
but you needed proof:
you saw her bathing on the roof,
her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you.
She tied you to a kitchen chair,
she broke your throne and she cut your hair
and from your lips she drew the hallelujah
hallelujah, hallelujah,
hallelujah, hallelujah...
He swallowed, looking up at Melisande at last. There was an earnestness in his voice.
Maybe I've been here before,
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor.
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen the flag on the marble arch,
and love is not a victory march:
it's a cold, and it's a broken
hallelujah.
hallelujah, hallelujah,
hallelujah, hallelujah...
A silence filled the room as Cesc sang the last words. His fingers were cold and white around the rose nail. He paused, swallowing, and reddened. He lifted one hand and rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.
"I am sorry," he said. "I ... forgot the rest of the words."
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Posted: Thu Nov 14, 2013 3:18 pm
She noticed the fleeting disappointment on his face as she apologized, and tilted her head. What had she said? His offer of an open door was so warming that she forgot about it almost instantly.
"Laugh at you?" For a moment she thought he was kidding, but the sweet blush on Cesc's cheeks told her otherwise. "Only if you're swinging me around or telling me a joke. I promise." Her smile was another sudden flash, and she leaned back on the counter to listen.
Melisande watched, enraptured, as the Stag began to sing. His pitch wasn't perfect, but every utterance made the song so uniquely his. His warmth, his open heart was beyond charming. By the last lines, she had pushed away from the counter and was gazing from just an arm's length away. The tilt of his head, the shy way he dropped his eyes did something to the music that his voice alone couldn't do. It gave the words life.
She was beaming by the time he finished, tiny tears glittering in the corners of her bright blue eyes. "That was...wonderful!" She threw her arms around his neck, narrowly missing the rose he clutched so carefully. "You're wonderful! Let's sing together sometime, please! I know the words now." She said the last part casually, as though memorizing a song after hearing it once was commonplace.
Pasha slipped back, still smiling. "Please?" She asked more demurely, echoing his last request.
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