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 Posted: Tue Feb 25, 2014 11:28 pm
Who: Cesc & Melisande
Where: Near Second Chances
When: Midday
Weather: Clear and cold, but the sun makes it feel warmer than it is
People were, somewhat optimistically, wearing shorts.
Rhedefre, obviously, was not.
The sun was out in a cloudless sky, and people were crawling out from their cabins to stretch their legs and enjoy the day. Looking out the window, it looked like a perfect day: no greyness hiding anywhere, no threat of snow, no chill for the first time in months. It was not quite the truth. The temperature had been kind enough to rise just to the fifties, but no more. Some people enjoyed the increase in their shorts and tees, others came out in jackets, but a crowd was out in full force to be in the fresh air.
Rhedefre wore a plain black ribbed long-sleeved tee and a three-button placket, warm enough for the weather without a jacket atop it. The light wind tousled his hair and put a bloom of color on his cheeks. He had shaved, and his antlers had still not grown back their velvet, but the knicks and bruises that had taken so long to heal were at last smoothed over. If he'd had any pockets, his hands would have been in them -- not from the cold, but from a mild anxiety that plagued him as he floated along the street. Melisande had dropped by his own cafe enough times for him to feel confident stopping by unannounced at her shop, right?
Perhaps not wholly confidently. Somehow, Cesc felt better with Melisande making their meetings calendar. He could not shake the thought that her attention was never idle, always sought.
There it was, Second Chances. He remembered the last time he'd been there, Melisande had looked so exhausted. He'd been so much younger then, hadn't he? That had been before so many things.
He opened the door and bowed his head as he entered, like he was letting himself into someone's home.
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Posted: Wed Feb 26, 2014 3:46 pm
The bells chimed over the door to Second Chances, and Melisande poked her head around the corner from the back room. Her usual greeting died on her lips. It wasn't a customer…it was Cesc.
The way he lowered his eyes was sweet. It gave her a moment to watch him unobserved as he entered…something Pasha realized she'd never had before. She usually made her way directly into his embrace, and even now she had to resist the urge. Instead, the Muse smiled, and drifted into the shop proper.
"Hello, Rhedefre." Melisande's warm voice said more than her words ever could. She set the ledger down upon the counter as she made her way past, pausing a few feet away to offer both hands to her old friend. "You came."
It was obvious how pleased Pasha was. She was wearing a dramatic white corset and a looping grey scarf, both of which made the pink of her cheeks a little more obvious. Her eyes were bright, and she squeezed the Stag's hands warmly. "I'm glad to see you."
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Posted: Sat Mar 01, 2014 8:28 pm
For a moment, he was alone in the entrance of the shop. He took the moment to look around at its wares. A clothing store, with the mannequins expertly merchandised. It was better organized than most second-hand stores he'd seen, which generally relegated their wares into large piles of contrasting textures and colors. This shop was fun, well-designed, and had flow. Someone with taste had gone through the clothing. Someone with attention to detail had set it up.
He floated toward a mannequin with a textured infinity-loop scarf and put his hand out to touch it gently. It was the sort of thing that Vivi might like.
Melisande's greeting stopped him. A smile bloomed across his face as he turned, seeing her set down what was in her hands and float toward him. She was beautiful as always, but seeing her in the setting gladdened Cesc somehow -- she seemed comfortable and at home, working. This place was hers. She was breathtaking, and the smile of friendship suited her.
"Melisande," Cesc greeted cheerfully, extending his arms to take both of her hands in his. His fingers were warm as he stroked his thumb over her knuckles. "Of course, I could never resist. It is a pleasure as always to see you -- and the inside of the shop! It's very nice. Do you dress the forms?"
He nodded to the mannequins without letting her go.
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2014 10:34 pm
Pasha nodded to his question, curls cupping her face as they slid over her shoulder. "I did! Thank you...Viola and I have enjoyed working to get the shop to where it is."
The Muse dropped her eyes for a moment, watching the way he smoothed his thumb over her skin. She was more aware of these things than she ever had been…perhaps it was her weekend away, perhaps simply the passage of time, but she appreciated both the gesture and the sensation. Her hands tightened almost imperceptibly in his as she lifted her eyes with a smile.
"I would be happy to dress you sometime as well, if you'd like. For fun, of course…I like what you wear. But let me know if anything catches your eye!" She leaned forward to brush her cheek to his with an air kiss in greeting. The flowers at her temples were full, the scent of them light and unique for a moment as she was close.
"It's not exactly one of my talents, but I did promise to show you everything!"
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 5:19 pm
"I would argue that it is a talent," laughed Cesc. The scent of her made him lightheaded for the briefest of seconds -- like his body focused itself on catching the faintness of the floral notes, and in doing so had lost its orientation for a split-second. But there was no evidence of it, and he was fine again as she pulled away.
"It's kind of you to offer. Rivener once, when I was indeed very young, took me to buy clothing." Cesc shook his head ruefully, half his smile dropping in an expression of self-depreciating humor. He let go of Melisande's hands to pluck emptily at his shirt. "I will never be quite that fashionable, I am afraid, but you try if you wish."
He looked back up at her, a spark of boyish humor in his eyes.
"Now, as for other talents... I am unsure how to begin, in honesty. Is your friend perhaps here? Violet -- Viola?"
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 9:52 pm
"Rivener does have an eye for it, but there's never been a day when you weren't a pleasure to look at." Pasha took a moment to turn and tuck the ledger under the counter, hiding the tidy rows of her accounting. "Vi will be here in a bit, I believe. She is taking classes! Why do you ask?"
Melisande was intrigued over the flash behind his eyes. She'd never known the Stag to be mischievous, but the thought delighted her. Treating him to one of her rare, full smiles, she came back around the counter towards him.
"We can begin with…what we come from? Unless you have another idea?" Pasha pulled off her own looping grey scarf and wound it around Rhedefre's neck instead…leaving her in just her pale corset. The scarf still carried her natural perfume, though that wasn't the Muse's intent.
"Perfection! Fini~"
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Posted: Tue Mar 04, 2014 11:44 am
"No matter, really," Rhedefre said, shaking his head. "It is just that one of my powers can be a bit of a parlor trick, I suppose -- it needs a volunteer from the audience, so I thought I would ask."
Cesc laughed as Melisande twined her scarf around him, and he ducked his chin under the fabric to make himself seem as cozy as possible. It was a fine and delicate fabric, and although he'd shaved, it tried to cling to his jawline. Her scent left behind in it was clean and floral, and gave Cesc a feeling of brightness. It was not Inspiration, but it did inspire his next choice of action.
"Certainly, where we come from is a fine idea," said Cesc, one hand lifting to smooth the scarf away from his chin. As he did so, there was a feeling of warmth that seemed to radiate from him, the true, blooming, refreshing warmth of spring morning. And there was more, there was a feeling of tender calm and rejuvenation. His eyes and wings and antlers lit subtly, a light that welcomed sight and did not burn.
"For me," he explained, his low voice pleasant, lilting. "I am a dawn that broke and left pieces behind. My soul..." He lifted a hand to his antlers, flicking an ear. "A white stag -- Vivi tells me a guide of the lost."
His smile became earnest and humble, and the warmth receded, back within him, only the barest bits that always radiated from him still remaining. He looked at Melisande with guileless curiousity, his focus turning immediately and wholly to her.
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Posted: Tue Mar 04, 2014 1:55 pm
Melisande drew closer as Cesc gently illuminated, the light brightening her eyes and the warmth highlighting her face as her lips parted with a smile. It was more than comforting, it was magnetic. "Cesc, it's…beautiful. Not it. You." Her smile dimpled and she reached out to touch the curve of his cheek lightly, where the light fell, to see if it was warm.
"The dawn and…a white stag." She repeated absently, committing them to memory as the glow retreated. Melisande withdrew her hand just as slowly. Her eyes were drawn to the flick of his ear and her smile blossomed again. It was flattering the way he turned his attention to her so readily, but the Muse was not yet sated.
"It is tiring to manifest something so lovely? Or do you hold it back? How does it feel for you? For me, being close...it was peaceful…refreshing. Like those moments after you wake, and you know you are in no hurry to rise." She wasn't used to speaking of such things, so she picked the words she felt were best, not knowing the proper language. Ordinarily, the Muse wouldn't have been so forward with her questions, but they were together today to learn.
"I've never understood why some people, especially new acquaintances, are so…handsy…but…do you mind being touched? Your antlers, your wings?" She was asking for permission, and respectfully. Her preface made it clear that she would take no offense if he declined. The fact that the light seemed to center in his antlers and wings intrigued her, and though she didn't admit it, the part of Pasha that was learning to appreciate the tactile and sensual aspects of life was curious if his handsome ears were as soft as they looked. A little color rested high on her cheeks, just as the reflection of his glow had earlier.
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Posted: Tue Mar 04, 2014 9:35 pm
"Thank you!" exclaimed the stag, and there was a true gratitude and a faint noise of surprise in his voice as he spoke, as though he did not expect attention to remain fixed upon him after his display. He laughed again, this time expelling any self-consciousness, and shook his head. He dipped down, his ears flattening forward, his neck inclined in a bow, allowing her access to his ears and antlers, stretching his wings out to let her touch them if she chose. His curls fell forward, curtaining his eyes and kissing his cheekbones, and they moved with his eyelashes when he blinked.
"I do not mind at all being touched," he continued. "I agree. I don't particularly understand touching an acquaintance so familiarly -- but we're friends. I let the bakery patrons touch my ears when they ask, you may do it as much as you like." Cesc flicked his eyes back up at Melisande, and there was a smile in his gaze. "But no pulling."
His ears were soft, but surprisingly his hair was softer, the curls fine and easily tousled, twining gently around his antlers and ears. His antlers, so much longer now than when they had first met, felt like polished wood, any soft nicks in them smoothed and easy, as though someone had taken great care on evening them. Only the tips held a sharpness to them, but even that was just rounded. There was no give to them -- they were elegant, split, artistic in their bend, but there was no doubt that they would cause great damage if used to their natural purpose.
His wings, too, were soft and downy, and there was a strange tactile sense in touching them that they were not wholly there. Touching them felt like putting one's hand in a beam of sunlight, warm but indistinct. There was a tickling sensation to the feathers that proved they were tangible, but there was a strange, almost cheeky sense that they gave that they could suddenly simply disappear.
Cesc let out a soft musing sound, his ears shivering just slightly as they were touched. "As for the calm... you are too kind, thank you. I'm happy to be the reason to make anyone feel well. But I cannot explain it. It has always been a part of me."
He paused, chuckling, his eyes focused downward. "I heard that I was in the tank a long time, two years, from when Vivi captured the stag soul to when I was born. I cannot help but think something went wrong. Sometimes I think I am not quite done right, that the magic that made me keeps seeping, and that is what it is. I was born with that aura -- it has only failed me once, at the jungle, when I was exhausted."
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Posted: Tue Mar 04, 2014 10:11 pm
"No pulling." Pasha closed the distance between them, smile dimpling at the honor and at the humor of his warning. The smile softened into something new, and it was written clearly across her face…she was grateful for his trust, and for his patience. The Muse trailed the backs of her fingers lightly over his antlers, admiring the curve and slight warmth of them. She had expected them to be cold. Carefully, she circled the pad of her thumb over one of the points, finding it polished and solid. Her fingers trailed down, sliding into his hair as she explored the base of them with a gentle touch.
"It's amazing. That something can be so strong and so graceful at the same time. Cesc, your hair is so soft!" Her soft laugh was pure delight. She pushed the tips of her fingers delicately along his scalp before threading his locks through her fingers and expertly twisting his curls back into shape with one deft motion. If anyone knew curls, it was Pasha.
She saved his ears for last, tracing the shell of it with a feather light touch from just the tips of her fingers. Not as soft as his hair, but pleasantly firm. She'd been expecting something more supple, like one of Lucia's ears. Unabashed, she followed the curve of the shell back down along the other side, until her fingers dipped once more into his hair. Her smile blossomed every time he flicked it at her.
Finally, she lowered one hand to his wing, placing the other against his chest to steady herself. They felt as delicate as they looked, and almost frictionless. "So unique. I've seen…flora wings, and fauna wings…" She was proud to have remembered the terms Viola had taught her, and shared a smile with Cesc for a moment before dropping her eyes down again. "…but you have something different. It's like…putting your hand to the wind. You can feel the pressure, but not the edges."
Melisande pulled back slowly, and with a little visible regret. She'd enjoyed her exploration. He'd changed so much from the Garden Party. She could still remember the velvet roundness of his antlers, his slender frame.
"Nothing went wrong." She assured him, and let her free hand fall from his chest. Her smile was easy, and the faith in her voice was comforting. "Kyou helped us become who we are now, even if we aren't perfect. You seem pretty close, though…and if making others happy is your cross to bear, well…"
Her laugh filled the shop again, just as the sun angled through the windows. Melisande drifted back, giving him his personal space after tucking one last curl away from his face.
"I hold Divine Song." Pasha said, her tone a bit more reserved. "I don't know much more than that. Wasa was able to share what she remembered from…from my guardian." Melisande planted one hand on her hip, reaching her other arm low across her stomach to join it. "I share the soul of a Muse. What I know about that I've learned on my own. They're something between the fae folk and angels, from I've gathered." Her wings spread slowly, showing off a rather surprising span. Pasha rarely opened them so fully, but did so now to great effect. She let her hands fall, palms showing.
"The wings of a Muse are white." She said quietly, pale lavender feathers catching the warm tones of the sun.
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 2:09 pm
“Vivi calls it baby hair,” laughed Cesc, shaking his hair lightly, allowing the soft curls to tumble about. He was still smiling as he straightened back to his high floating height, and his hand went up in an automatic gesture as Melisande put her hand against his chest, as though he meant to put his own hand over hers, or else lay his fingers on her forearm or wrist. He caught himself in time, however, and his hand simply hovered nearby, as if to brace her.
“Thank you,” he said in response to her comment on his wings. They fluffed out as he spoke, reaching. “They are another thing I cannot explain – they let me fly, but sometimes they become light. It makes it easy to put on shirts, at least.”
His hand slowly dropped as she pulled away at last, and the distance between them was still warm. His gaze dropped as she complimented him further – good was an adjective he scarcely allowed himself, close to perfect was unfathomable – and his smile became masculine and embarrassed. There was good humor and humility in his voice as he spoke, along with a flattered gratitude: “Melisande, you are too kind -- but you prove that there is no accounting for taste.”
And he laughed with her, not with mirth, but with pleasure.
At last, she began to speak of herself. Cesc’s expression shifted to focus on her words, his smile remaining warm on his features, his eyes bright, his ears tipped forward. As she spoke, he was cognizant of a certain mystery, of something being left out – what had happened to her guardian? There was no twinge of loss that he could discern from her, but there seemed to be much unspoken there.
“A Muse,” Rhedefre repeated, his voice low as he watched her wings stretch. Her posture, her wings, her bright face and bare shoulders – she looked a Muse descending, the salvation of a worthy artist. Suddenly, Cesc felt pieces clicking together in his head. He laughed, and the sound was fond. “I always thought you were something to do with sunlight. I thought you radiated it. And also…”
He reached one hand out, tentative, and touched with only his gentle fingertips, one of the blossoms that crowned her. “…because of these. But what you truly are, I cannot believe I did not see it earlier. And now I know why you know that plants like to be sung to.”
Cesc let his hand fall away as he looked at her, then he reached up and pinched one of his ears, shaking his head. “The ears of a white stag should probably be white, shouldn’t they? But we are not pure, any of us. What makes us is that we are mixed of two things. We are not allowed to forget, I think, for better or worse.”
He smiled broadly then, and began to laugh. “A Divine Song, and all you hinted was that you could teach! I sang in front of you!” He had the grace to redden at the memory.
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 6:38 pm
She smiled shyly, the similarity between white wings and a white stag not lost on her. It must be part of his nature…Cesc was amazing at making her feel better.
"You're…not disappointed? That we don't share an essence?" Melisande folded her wings gracefully, leaning her head into his touch. The blossoms were sweet and hardy, refusing to shed even as his fingers brushed them. "They're part of me. See?" Melisande reached up and parted her hair, exposing the 'roots' of the flowers since he seemed a bit too reserved to explore as she had. The stems faded and split, winding into golden hairs before they ever reached her scalp. It was as though Pasha's curls had come to a wild decision to form blossoms, entirely without her permission.
"And I loved your song. Anyone would have. You have such character and grace to your voice." They were important elements to the Muse. She let her hair fall, and settled a hand once more on his chest. She liked the warmth of him, and how solid he was despite being a Frei.
At the thought, her eyes dropped, taking in the glow below him. "Do you know what our symbol means?"
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 7:18 pm
Cesc's smile broadened, and he shook his head quickly, his brows furrowing over his grin. "Don't be silly! What I thought was just a lack of creativity on my part. I know sunlight, or what bits of it I'm allowed. But what has made you has made you -- and perfectly."
He inclined his head then with some curiousity as she parted her hair, and the look on his face was one of childish wonder, of being exposed to something he had not even considered possible. It lit his face and his eyes, and he could not help but touch the soft stems with his fingers, letting out a soft noise of surprise.
"Amazing," he breathed. He looked back down at her, his smile filled with astonished admiration. "Really and truly, amazing."
He pulled away slightly then, and was surprised she kept contact between them. He laughed again, his cheeks beginning to rival his hair, and he could only manage to say: "Thank you, really."
Singing in front of an audience had always ruffled him. He was a social person and had been since his birth. Talking to strangers had never bothered him, never struck him as odd. But when speaking turned to singing, Rhedefre suddenly felt awkward and untalented, as much as he enjoyed singing when alone. To know that he'd done so in front of the living embodiment of song, well...
Strangely, it made him feel ... welcome. Accepted. But there was a lingering embarrassment nonetheless.
He turned his attention to his shirt as her eyes dropped, grateful for the distraction. "Oh -- yes, Shepard and I looked it up once. It is not a true rune, but a blend of two: one that means 'elk', and the other that means 'protection'. It is not quite right, I think, but perhaps there is no rune for 'stag'." He laughed. Have you ever researched yours?"
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 7:46 pm
Protection and…elk? Her eyes went wide, and her hand left his chest to flatten low against her corset. Pasha bent forward to peer at her own rune, honestly shocked. "Mine? They're not…the same?"
Her sweet voice was hushed, though whether in embarrassment or awe it was hard to say. She'd never looked close enough at a rune to realize there was a difference. Melisande straightened almost instantly, realizing how undignified she must look. Her rueful laugh filled the small shop.
"Oh, Rhedefre~" There was more than a little affection in her voice, and she crossed her arms across her stomach self consciously. "Please, let's keep this between you and me!!" Pasha shook her head, straightening her curls back into place behind her shoulders. "I have been lucky, to find love in my life. But true friends have been few and far between. Thank you for being one of them."
Still bashful, she pressed another air kiss to Cesc's cheek, hers blazing against his. "What about…the things that make us special? Aside from our nature. You…can help find the lost?" There was a gentle prompting in her voice. Please, let's move on!!
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 8:07 pm
Cesc laughed, but he had the goodness to do so silently, his shoulders shaking and his cheeks lifting, but he said nothing. His own guardians had been curious about everything, whether it was runes or essences or anything else. There was never a secret about where he came from, how he was made, or what they knew about any other Raevan in his acquaintance. But then, Vivi was endlessly curious about everything, and unashamed as she was about everything to talk about it. Perhaps he'd missed something about Raevan decorum along the way.
"Y--es," he said mercifully, changing the subject. He did not reply to her calling him friend, but it was clear on his face that it pleased him. He continued to speak, allowing the color to fade from their cheeks. "My own power, so much as it works, is to find the lost, whatever that may mean." He straightened slightly, rubbing his knuckles against one cheek. "When I asked earlier about Vi, I wondered if she'd lost a necklace earlier this week -- I assume it's hers and that it isn't yours, there trapped under the sale rack and the accessory wall."
He gestured to the general area he meant, then floated toward it and sank down low, moving the rack of clothing slightly to one side and pawing underneath it. He frowned gently, then made a faint 'oh!' noise, and straightened. His sleeve was dirty, but in his hand was a twisted, somewhat-dusty necklace.
"Ta-da," he joked, smiling.
He floated back over to Melisande with the object, shrugging as he went. Some joy went out of his face as he spoke. "It's a strange power. A liberty. I'm let in on things I have no business about. Sometimes it works like that -- finding small things that want me to find them. Keys, earrings, wedding rings, books, wallets. Sometimes I feel it from bigger things or people who want help finding something, or to be found, like Xiu's voice" His voice quieted. "Or like doctor Kyou."
He wet his lips, now becoming uncomfortable. He dropped his eyes to the necklace and did not meet Melisande's. It was a truth he'd hidden for a long time that he meant to tell her now: "And sometimes, I feel when someone has lost something, or someone, that cannot be recovered."
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