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 Posted: Thu May 19, 2016 12:12 am
The walk through Nega Space, the teleportation with hands on the small of either Quartz's back and Ceraskia's, these were filled with silent, sharp footsteps like checks written next to considerations. The General did not speak until they stood in an alleyway nearby to the loft warehouse called home, and that as the uniform faded from her shoulders, "We all all a mess." There was a slight sound of resign to it, as the tinker setting down a project long already long into midnight oil but finding that another night inevitable before completion. Leadership conferences must be in rare supply to the waifs recruited again and again. If a leader receives a vote of non-confidence from their subordinates, it is already over. Let alone this persistent One-Size-Fits-All mentality and arrogance flaunting fear as the only tools to obedience. Stroud kept her hand at the small of Delphine's back during the walk to the doors and the lift. "Come up, pigeon. Your muscles will need tending after all that. I won't have this run around jeopardize your aims and missions. " Sending Infiltration officers on a free for all. Inefficient. And grooming of a social variety reinforced bonds after missions. Across the open spaces of the living and working areas to the enclosed and renovated bathing area, Stroud led across cedar and bamboo lattice to the dark granite and gold filigree of rain-style shower heads and a deep, immersion claw foot tub. "We did not do our best at the trials. We will do better next time." " If you could pull towers from there, behind the door there. " A black granite-faced cupboard that full of a selection of Turkish towels and bamboo luxury bathing robes. Stroud turned the antique handles of the clawfoot to pouring, and tested the temperature over her hand before doing the same for the shower. "A rinse under the shower will take most of the grime off, and leave the soak more pleasant. Have you been to Japan to dance before? All the onsen have the same policy; I found it worked well." Beejoux Let me know if it needs any changes Shazari Mention of Laz in the post-meeting getting home. I can edit it out if you want/need. No obligations to anything here- just everyone getting home.
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Posted: Thu May 19, 2016 7:26 am
The dancer was quiet upon their arrival to the alley, and the short walk to the warehouse and the luxury hiding within. She was tired, and even after powering down, she could feel, acutely, the layers of dust and paint that clung to porcelain skin. The water they'd had to swim through hasn't helped. If anything, Delphine was certain it had made it all that much worst. All of it robbed her of her usual sophisticated air, and she was in no mood to to spark conversation on anything they had just witnessed or been subjected to. There was also a sense of gratitude that, considering the source, seemed oddly foreign. She and Quartz got along well enough, worked together as was expected of agents under their mistress' lead, but there was an undeniable feeling of disdain and tolerance that stretched between them. No love lost. But he'd done something that had surprised her when he'd pushed her out of unknown dangers way. There has been no way to know what would come toppling down on top of them in that maze, but it hadn't mattered, the captain had moved to protect her. She owed him. Something to dwell on later. Her last was speaking, and Delphine's attention was unwavering. "Yes ma'am," was her soft reply to the bid to follow, and she fell into line behind the tall woman, dark eyes resting on sweep of strong shoulders and the curve of a long back. Beautiful. Even now. Even wearing the evidence of the evening on pale skin and pale hair. We will do better next time.. Yes they would. Inside the bathroom Delphine was drawn away from her thoughts, and she looked up to Stroud at the request, before moving to fulfill it. Fluffy towels were drawn from within cupboard and placed on the edge of the vanity, then robes followed. Neatly placed, one stack beside the other. "I have not had the fortune, but it's not a foreign concept in other countries, nor with me." It was usual practice after a long day at the stables, before a relaxing soak in warm tub. Knowing what came next, the dancer reached up to pull the securing pins from her strict bun, loosening silver hair before it fell in loose, wet waves along her cheeks and over her thin shoulders. The pins were deposited in a small bowl on the vanity. She starting on the buttons of her blouse as she turned and walked closer to the taller woman. ivynian forgive any odd words or typos. Phone tag. <3
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Posted: Tue May 31, 2016 4:32 pm
The meantime Stroud had likewise pulled the usual band from her hair, abandoned jeans and belt, and worked on the fastenings to her Henley-placket and shirred-back panel button down. The shirt remained on for the moment, at Delphine's approach, given way to a moment of appreciation, then gathering the petite woman's hair to one of her slender shoulders. Pianist fingers drew along the woman's hips to the trace the edges of lower garment momentarily, while Delphine still worked her own buttons, and took care of any fastenings there in order to pet them off and down the dancer's legs with a swept motion. "At least, come day's end and duty departing, time can be allotted to appreciating Beauty. A star glimmered and trapped in the lines of skin. While clouds make moon-bow curls along hair. " "And easier to let stress flow away to Muse." Standing from petting off Delphine's clothes, Stroud motioned with open palm invitation to the raining shower.
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Posted: Thu Jun 02, 2016 7:17 am
Delicate fingers slowed at the look in the taller woman's eyes as they lifted to the dancer, and Delphine could feel her cheeks darkening, color spreading in a faint, pinkish wash along pale skin. Even so far as her shoulders, as Stroud drew her damp hair over one. It brought a small smile to the younger girl's face, but she had to drop her gaze, had to look away, or the blush would darken deeper still. Especially as light hands settled on slender hips. Delphi moved with the gentle touch, allowing Stroud to guide her as needed as slacks and undergarments were stripped away with soft, petting hands. Her blouse followed a moment after, and the camisole beneath it. It left her very nude, and under any other circumstance she'd have taken great lengths to avoid getting to this state, but there was something, had always been something, about the tall blonde that has intrigued, fascinated, and comforted. If she were a bit more knowledgable of her own whims and desires, it would have been easy to see why, but she had always lived a rather sheltered life. A glance up, dark eyes lingering on handsomely beautiful features, and the ballerina nodded, stepping under the warm, wonderful rain of the shower. Bliss.
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Posted: Wed Feb 22, 2017 5:29 pm
Difficult maintenance to keep a body's bashfulness. Dancing professionally put everything on display. Costumes to choreography, there was no inch of skin or bone left sacrosanct from the objectification, sexual, artistic gratification and fetishism by other dancers, directors, musicians and every one of hundreds of audience members throughout the run of a show. Delphine's blooming color drew hazel gaze the same a blood left sooth on creamy Savannah. Calculated seduction? Or? "Thence virtue and chastity enlightened her arms, made lustre clear and bright-placed than heavens- vain was their jealousy. The stars. Even shadows of them fell deeper as she shone." Stroud punctuated word with motion. A step skin-close to the lithe back, a reach around to draw artisan oils from their niche, lathe of fingers slow-worked into Delphine's hair, "So many green eyes in the corps de ballet." "Do you drink brandy?" There was no rush for answers or reactions, with the presence of motions and falling water to fill up time, space and drown the tempo and stress away.
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Posted: Wed May 09, 2018 3:39 pm
Standing beneath the spray with delicate fingers curling lightly around the opposite wrist, Delphine's attention remained solely fixed upon the blonde beauty as she followed into the shower, lovely voice closing in as thickly as the steaming and mist. The blush lingered on, joined in the end by the smallest of pleased smiles. Skin to skin made her shiver, dark eyes closing as that tall frame curved against her back. "You think they're jealous of me?" Her head tilting back against the massaging fingers as they worked along her scalp and through the lengths of silvery hair. Jealous of her talent, perhaps. There were any number of lovely ladies among the corps, though few who's bodies lent themselves so perfectly to the craft. Not as light, not as lithe. Delphine knew she didn't have the typical female physique, but for ballet, she was perfect. "I've never tried brandy, so I do not know." Head half turned, she opened eyes again to glance up at Stroud. "Does it burn the throat? I'm not sure I would be fond of that." ivynian It's so ollllld, but good bonding session.
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Posted: Sun May 20, 2018 1:08 am
“Jealousy is most often the first response of those who perform their art when they are faced with someone younger, faster, more agile, born more intrinsically fitted by body to the demands of the skills. What draws the energetic to the stage? Is it not the glory? Beauty, grace, attention, applause, praise that they saw in that first performance and knew that they wanted to be that, have that, own that. Appreciation is as rare as idealism. Once they joined the rat race to contracts, they forgot, no doubt, how to enjoy, watch, learn, admire anything that wasn’t them. I am certain they are jealous, as I am certain how you’ve used your gifts. “ The long fingers pet through the tresses, carefully leading the water away from the younger woman’s face. Along her neck. Down shoulders, arms, to the pearled tips of fingers. “There are many points to read people, tells they give that aren’t in their mouth or eyes anymore when they’ve trained their faces to masks. The lines of their jaw, at their neck and collar carry tension. Ears shade and pale where cheeks don’t. The wires of the hands will relax or become iron as much as the set of shoulders and spine. These things are given broad direction in dancing, often, by choreographers trying to show characters to audience. But it applies off stage. “ A Konjac Sponge with bamboo charcoal was draw from an inset shelf, doused with a blended cleanser and essential oil, then gently put to work exfoliating and stimulating circulation across the ballerina’s back. Whispered words against the flushed eartip, “We can learn as much from where others aren’t, or won’t look, as from where they do. “
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Posted: Wed May 23, 2018 6:18 pm
Fingers through the silvered lengths of the girls hair made her shiver, goosebumps washing over the lengths of her arms before the heat of the water soothed them away just as quickly. Delphine felt hyper aware of each and every gentle touch and caress, and it was impossible not to sink into the sensations as surely as she wrapped that deep silky voice around herself like a favored blanket. Eyes closing, the softest of appreciative hums eased from that slender throat as she listened to the tall woman talk. They opened again as attentions shifted from her hair and onto her back, the pause in contact almost startling. She glanced back at the woman again, gaze lingering on the sweep of her shoulders, following the prominence of a clavicle to the base of that pale throat. When she realized she was staring she dropped her gaze, flush deepening by a shade. "I don't think I've paid the majority of the corps enough attention to have noticed such tells, but I will be sure to watch more closely from now on." She'd felt their animosity towards her, and crafted it into careful apathy. She'd had Colin, and that had been enough. She wasn't there to make friends. Though now she wondered how often they watched, or how often they blatantly avoided doing so.
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Posted: Sun Jun 03, 2018 7:02 pm
As even such blush and gaze go groundward. Here was a body that knew desire, craved closer attention than the caress of eyes alone, but did not wholly understand it. Delphine Rousseau had lived her life in only half the body and none the bawdy, a girl and no woman by biblical knowing means. How many of the swans survive their wings pulled off and necks rubbed black with gunpowder? The soot-burned black swans. Has the denial of tools, of coping, hampered your chances, pigeon? Or enhanced them, that the marks take fuller hold the day they do?
And when should it come? Innocence could never long last the kind of Chaos Metallia wielded. “There is oft the same in any loose-held pack. Even the Dark Kingdom. You will find some jealous of what you earn with your pietas, dignitas, and gravitas. Jealousy, and misunderstanding, mistraining in their power...as it were tonight. We shall weather it better, with our devotion.”
“We must be eyes and ears for our own, and protect what we hold dear in others and ourselves. “ Long fingers curled down, around, in loose, clasped, but close intended embrace if the ballerina chose not to pull away. To be held as safe as any could claim of steel-starred breast. “The strength of the Queen is grown by each tithe reclaimed- in stars like yours raised up true, or in those taken by force from their impudence. Sharpen your eyes, pigeon, and question each motivation to find the jewels hidden. To be added to silver and gold to your name and breast.”
A touch of light fingers raised to the place, then trailed by lightest nail edges to dainty, water-flushed lips. Lastly fanned lightly as the smooth-pearled backs along the bloomed cheek, “To Metallia’s name. And to my happiness. “
Softly, Stroud drew then away, intending to leave electric skin and delicious longing, to get them both towels. "Sidecar or glass of white? "
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Posted: Fri Jun 08, 2018 6:11 pm
I will be anything you need me to be...The thought ground to a sudden halt as she felt long fingered hands at her sides in a slow, creeping caress the drew an involuntary squeak from her breast. Strength enveloped her, in arms and the steady pace of that silken voice. The solid warmth of that impressive figure like a wall at her back, and it was impossible not to respond to it. Leaning back, small hands rose to lay the lightest touch to Stroud's wrists, delicate fingers curled in a ghosting grasp. Loose, and anything but impending as an elegant hand rose to touch the tips of manicured nails just to the left of her where the cracked star usually marked her chest. She let go as the soft brush of nails climbed to trace full lips, hands hanging forgotten at her sides. She moved with that light touch, head tipping back and to the side, lips parting... Once again, the lack of touch was startling, but this time she felt an unfamiliar pang at the center of her chest. Half turned, a flurry of emotion crossing the delicate contours of her face, she watched as Stroud left the streaming rain of the shower to fetch them towels. "And to my happiness."Chest tight, she turned in full to follow, only to pause with one foot on the mat at the question of beverage. "Whichever you're having would be perfect." She didn't care what they drink, so long as those eyes still followed, and those hands still touched. Reaching back, Delphine turned the knob to cease the flow of water, then she was stepping into the cooler hair of the bathroom itself, heart pounding as she swallowed her nerves to cross the room to where Stroud stood waiting.
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