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 Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 6:50 pm
Christof was still wide-eyed as he scooped up his shovel, trembling and sweating as unnatural- or so he figured- thoughts spun through his head. He had touched her and... and she had let him and... and she had offered... and...
It was too much.
Reeling and practically dragging the dead Lepus and shovel behind him, he stiffly made his way towards the demon dorms with a haunted expression. There was nothing more to it. He simply had to ask his Mistress if she approved.
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 6:55 pm
Riley was lying on her stomach, on her bed, writing into a book. One of her tentacles was reached out to a glass on the table by her bed, slowly sipping a brainshake. Another reached out and flipped the page of the book. Though no one could hear it, in her head she was humming.
Someone was in a good mood.
Every tentacle froze in place when she heard the rustle of leaves just outside the window, and she put the book and her writing utensil down. Her tentacles returned to lying lifeless behind her head, as she pushed herself off the bed and moved to look out the window. As expected, it was Christof lurking around in there. She slid the windowpane open, so he could enter when he was ready, and then went back to lying down on the bed. She re-opened the book, reading over what she'd just wrote.
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 6:59 pm
Am... I intruding Mistress? Came the quiet, shy thought as the patchworked face appeared over her windowsill, his hair- washed since the trip, but not brushed in days, it seemed- and eyes wide with a haunted expression.
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 7:40 pm
No. Riley answered, though she didn't turn from her book. She simply turned the page. I would not have opened the window if I did not want you here. You're welcome to come in.
She finally turned her eyes up towards the patchwork, and they crescented softly. She couldn't help but be amused by the mess of hair on his head. Ah, Christof. She closed the book, and slid it under her pillow, before sitting up and snatching a comb from her bedstand. Her legs parted slightly, and she patted the piece of bed between them. Come here. You're a mess.
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 7:45 pm
I... I have been working, Mistress. On... On a project, He murmured, wobbling to sit on the bed beside her. He had leaned his shovel against the wall by the window sill, but kept the mangled lepus corpse on his lap like a horrific stuffed animal.
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 7:56 pm
Riley pulled some of his hair back and started combing it as he spoke to her. A project? I'm glad to hear that you're keeping yourself occupied. What is your project on?
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 8:00 pm
Cheating death, Was the automatic reply, but almost immediately he overran that thought with the one in the foremost of his mind- ... something happened today, Mistress. I... I didn't want to do anything without your opinion, thoguh, and she did say I could talk to someone I trusted and I'm just a bit worried and I don't know what to do- I thought that you might. The lepus carcas was twisted anxiously between his hands.
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 8:48 pm
Riley's hand brushed through Christof's hair as she combed it finely. She listened, slowing as Christof mentioned a 'she', before resuming her rhythmic movement. Waiting a moment before trying to glean exactly what he was trying to say, she had lulled him into comfort by combing his hair and tasted what memory he was currently openly focused on while he sat there worrying.
Sin.
Secrets.
Contracts.
Permanent.
Riley's hand fell out of Christof's hair. This was a good thing, because her other hand, which was still holding the brush, tightened so quickly that the wooden handled cracked under her claws. Tighter and tighter she clenched, until finally..
Crack.
The broken brush fell from her fingers.
She was speechless.
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 8:53 pm
Perhaps it was because he was so trapped in his own head, the hunchback was exceptionally receptive to psychic readings, even when he held a memory as tight as he could. This memory had been dancing on the verge of being outright spouted out to begin with, but it seemed the young Igor hadn't realized it, wobbling under the brush with an unfamiliar sensation of care.
Miss... Miss Sin... she... she... she offered me her *parts*, Mistress... even internally, the mental voice sounded breathless and aching. I wanted to say yes, it sounded like not much work for such an extraordinary Gift, but... but I knew, I knew it wasn't necessarily a Good Idea. Sometimes my judgment is not the best, I understand, and so I thought I should speak to you before even considering...
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 9:16 pm
There was a solid moment, where Riley had to seriously consider how she felt about this. It was clear she was upset, but why? Why was she so upset at the idea of Christof taking another mistre-
She found that she literally could not finish the thought without pain.
You wanted her parts so much, Christof. A quiet, distant whisper filled his mind. I remember. It was the first thing you asked me to help you with, wasn't it. You wanted them so much. And now..
Riley's head tilted down until it felt the back of Christof's head stop it.
It may be hard to believe this, Christof, but it seems my judgement is impaired as well. I feel.. selfish, for feeling this way. I don't understand. I really don't understand.
Her eyes closed as her tumultuous thoughts ran wild. Why did you think to ask me first? How was it possible that you did not snatch upon the offer the moment it came? I thought this was all you wanted..
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 9:19 pm
M-master Malodore had said Only With Permission, and... and she was giving me permission, Mistress... for anything. Inside or out, Mistress, His thoughts wavered anxiously, sounding positively strained, But... but I don't know, it... it seemed too easy. It worried me. I didn't want to upset you, Mistress. I don't have any other Masters now through Contract but you, since Master Ba- the thought dimmed down as though cut off by static, his face flushing.
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 10:23 pm
Mention of Barth just barely caught Riley's interest and pulled it away from the growing heartache she felt in the pit of her chest. Her head remained rested on Christof, but her eyes opened.
Have you spoken to him? She quietly asked, gently pushing the more painful topic aside for a moment. Barth, I mean. Her head tilted just slightly, and she looked at the wall they shared. I've been worried about the two of you. I know how much he treasured your friendship.
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 10:27 pm
Friendship? He shifted under her grip, but didn't try to leave, relishing the calming sensation of her skin against his. His Creator had never been so... cuddly. And he liked it. He especially liked it when she leaned her soft- He cleared his throat, swallowing as he tried to kick his brain into the proper direction, No, Mistress. I... I've been hesitant. I didn't want to... to... upset him, I don't know, but the mark is gone and I fear it's... it's because of what happened.
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 11:40 pm
I want you to talk to him, Christof. Riley's normal voice returned, though still quiet. The painful emotion was gone. He needs you just as much as you need him. I think you've always been thinking about this mark thing the wrong way. As she spoke of it, she reached out and rested her hand against the mark on his chest. I think.. I think I have too. Barth enjoyed your company. He probably misses you very much right now. Much like I would miss you, if my mark ever ran out and you decided to stop visiting me just because of that.
She pulled away, and turned her head to look at him from the side. Would you do that, Christof? Would you abandon me simply because my mark ran out? Do you know how that would hurt me?
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Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 11:48 pm
Christof's brows furrowed with the confusion he hadn't shown since he and Malodore had had their talk about "Friendship" not so long ago. His stitched lips trembled, an anxious noise escaping his throat, muddled thoughts whirling, Marks are about ownership. It is a reminder to myself as an Igor as much as an outward sign of where my allegiances lie to others. Without it... things get complicated and... he shifted, a hand letting go of the dead lepus to pick up the rosary his skull pin was attached to, hanging from his pajama pocket, fiddling with the beads until his fingers reached Malodore's pin. There are other ways to achieve the same thing as a Mark though... I am debating giving Mr. Calder my pin. I have only given it to one other. But marks... marks are different. Intimate. We are taught that it is something to be proud of. I kept trying to extend our contract, despite it's tedium, but I don't think Mister Barth takes it very seriously. And... and Miss Sin... I... Just don't know. But her parts, her parts, her delicious parts... it was tempting, so tempting, but even so the danger flags had been raised in the back of his mind.
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