Strange Notions [closed]

[Lucette]

At the word, ‘Lady’ Lucette could not help but to lengthen happily along her spine, and shift her smooth shoulders back. But the man looked away, and the Kelvic wondered why... Did he not find her pleasing to look at? Her head cocked sideways while her eyes settled upon where she thought he looked in case something was there. There was nothing. “I am called Lucette.” She offered, though secretly she wished to be called “Lady” again, and to see if he would look at her. “Please… tell me your name.” With the quiet grace of a hunter, the man retrieved her garment. And as Lucette watched, she instinctually approved of the way in which he moved. Roland had never moved as such, instead he had a wobbling gait, the manner of which annoyed her feline sensibilities. Never would she have admitted it to him, as she believed it was not her place to correct him, no matter what he would do. But now, she realized there were other, more assured strides than his. The man moved to untangle her shift from the tree’s roots, and Lucette followed, almost upon his heels. “This hunting tonight, is the only I have done… I do not know your – real hunting,” she said. Curiosity lay upon her features, though she appeared unembarrassed by her lack of knowledge. “Was this not real?” The Kelvic was unaware that in a few, exotic and faraway places, Cheetahs were often taught to hunt for their owners. Lucette trusted his opinion; the man seemed to know how to move and he had killed the bird… A tiny flick of pink tongue tasted her lips, followed by one delicate finger… the taste was of bird, and cold blood. Already, the Kelvic was reminded of the crunch of tiny bones between her jaws. Greedily, she wanted another. “Do you use that bow?” Lucette wondered, “To bring down your quarry?” The weapon was a reminder of when she had been considered prey for the Wind Reach hunter. “I do not wish to learn the use of that… ” the slave girl apologized, though distain was not far from her tone. “But I would wish to hunt more… if you would show me the real way?”

[Legion]

“Delano,” the widower provided with a smile that altered his countenance entirely. “Delano Marx, Lucette. It is good to meet you.” Broken blades of grass and a handful of leaf fragments were brushed free of her shift, left to float lazily to the earth at their feet. He offered the silk back to her on the lay of his hands, undoubtedly too old to be accused with blushing at the sight of a beautiful, nude woman. All the same, he was and his young son would have laughed and laughed. “Oh, no,” his smile faded from his mouth but continued to loiter in his eyes while a grave expression sobered him. “That was hunting, all right, Lucette; but there is hunting and then there is hunting. “You are cheetah. There will be no need for you to use a bow unless –“ He hesitated, eyebrows rising. “You would like to learn, maybe? It is what I use, but then I’m lacking in nature’s feral bounty. No sharp teeth, no razor claws.”

[Lucette]

The smile transformed Delano’s face, and Lucette boldly responded to it with a parting of her lips, pleased at the changes it made in his appearance. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well… Delano Marx,” the Kelvic purred, drawing out his name felicitously. With delicate hands Lucette took the shift from him as if it was indeed a thing of great importance, as if she were truly a Lady... Letting the dress fall open, the Kelvic slid an arm into its silkiness. She knew humans preferred themselves clothed, and she wished not to make the man look away again. But as Delano spoke of the Hunting and the Hunting, Lucette stopped, leaving the fabric to drape over the curve of one shoulder. The garment was left to cascade downward, dragging upon the earth, and collecting the very debris Delano had so chivalrously brushed off a moment before. Hunting… The sound of the word reverberated along her nerves in a slow burn. Lucette had not the experience to put into words what she felt, or how she knew what Delano meant when he spoke the word. Hunting. But deep within, the Kelvic did know. And she very much wanted to experience the difference. “It is the chase, yes?” Lucette whispered, remembering the short pursuit of the bird. It thrilled her even now to think of it, but even that had not satisfied the inner hunger. She wanted more… much more. “…of something bigger… not confined to alleyways…” with the freedom to run as she was meant to run. Almost she held her breath. The slave’s eyes danced with feral light, and she watched the man’s reaction closely to see if she had understood correctly. But her brows came together in the smallest of frowns, and she shook her head, “No please, I have no love of bows. I would not wish to use a weapon… I want to feel them d-…” Lucette’s hand flew to cover her mouth and her eyes went wide. Disconcerted and guilty, the desire to bring death had almost crossed her lips. Even to a man who might understand, the Kelvic was not ready to admit such things out loud. In an attempt to cover the reckless admission of her animal self, Lucette instead offered praise to Delano and touched the strap of his bow with light and nimble fingers, “It seems you are a fine hunter with this, what need have you of tooth and claw?” Her eyes were soft, yet held his, and her lashes blinked once and again slowly, “And I have found… there is a little feral hidden in most humans.”

[Legion]

"Yes, that is the sort of hunting I mean," the lieutenant agreed. His eyebrows rose when she flew a hand to her mouth, attempting to stop with fingers what her lips might release. It had his smile sorrowing, remaining as such even as she stroked the strap of his bow. "You are cheetah," he told her in grave quiet. "Of course you do. You and I will hunt," he further determined. "We can bring back game for the temple. Yes? The lives you take won't be wasted, but instead brought to nourish Denval." He hesitated in the shallow light, the cheerfully abandoned street. The rattling of cart wheels sounded in the distance and the hawk and cry of the Raster Market was a pervasive hum at the furthest reach of senses. He took her hand, his grip loose so that she might draw away, and tilted his shoulders towards the steps of the Academy that waited beyond the empty yard. "Will you come inside with me?" He wanted to know. "We can set a date." And he could get her mostly naked self out of public before his mother rolled over in her grave.

[Lucette]

His face changed, the smile drooped and a quiet settled between them that had not been present a moment before. Lucette had upset Delano Marx, and the slave fretted at the thought! But then… the man’s words were not angry at all. The Kelvic’s chin lifted in interest, to expose the creamy prominence of her collarbone. The hunter acknowledged her nature and his acceptance of it buoyed her self-esteem. His simple words tapped into the portion of her Kelvic soul that needed approval. Delano Marx understood, and Lucette answered readily, “Oh yes! Let’s feed them all!” It was a grand idea, though in the back of her mind, Lucette wondered if it was truly possible to kill and then wait on the eating of it until a later time. No matter, she foolishly thought, if that was what it cost to go hunting with this learned man, Lucette would agree to anything. To hunt… to kill… Demurely, Lucette’s hand joined his in the clasp. At first her pressure was light. Ladylike she assumed, but strength lay within her grip and vitality coursed through her confident fingers. She was not human, even as she appeared as one, albeit with a lack of clothing. “I will follow you Delano…” she said silkily, using his first name, familiar and personal. They had shared the hunting, and she was confident he had been persuaded to now share the Hunting with her as well. It was difficult to say if Lucette followed the man to the door, or led him. At moments it was one, then the other as her movements shifted between the two, easily flowing, yet hard to define. As she glided, the Kelvic slipped her unclothed arm into the dress and it settled to cascade downwards. Though in the wake of her movements it billowed open, as if she wore a gossamer cape only attached at her shoulders. Once at the door, she mused, “This is where the children learn. I have seen them playing in the yard.” Then without embarrassment, or self consciousness Lucette added, “I have never been inside a school before.” And an inquisitive glimmer edged her eyes.

[Legion]

"No?" The head of the academy observed Lucette anew, forgetting for a moment the magnetic draw of her form and mannerisms as holy Eyris seized upon his consciousness and conjured up another quick grin. "Come on then," he invited while walking backwards through the hodgepodge of the entrance way. It was a collection of hooks lining walls to hang coats and scarfs and doorless cabinets stacked high with papers and quills, half empty ink pots and tangled bits of string. "The children like to keep things here," he explained, "We've had a rash of frogs lately. I've been doing my best to discourage this practice, but children will be children. No? Not so interesting, this room. This, however," and he strode into the airy, light filled classroom with its rows of scuffed desks and shelves of books lining the walls between floor to ceiling windows framed in old iron. "This is my favorite," he confessed and turned back around in the middle of the center aisle, his grin having softened into something a touch shy. He breathed in -- ink and paper, chalk dust and someone over ripened apple left on a shelf. "It feels echoing now, doesn't it? But when it's full, it is very full." Eyebrows rose and he continued to observe her, not like a hunter and prey, but maybe a scholar and subject. He was, after all, both. "Never? Do you want the grand tour then? Anything you might like to learn? Other than hunting," he added hastily, unwilling to relinquish that bid for this intriguing woman's time.

[Lucette]

Lucette slunk prettily into the entranceway and along a wall. Touching each thing she passed, her fingers studied the children’s odds and ends. Contrary to Delano’s words, the Kelvic found this room very interesting indeed. Wide-eyed she noted the hooks, papers, pots of dark liquid and… string, which particularly caught her attention. Touching lightly with a fingertip sent the string softly swinging. But the next room was like no other room she’d seen, and in small increments her narrowed eyes took it all in. It smelled differently, like the old professors in Zeltiva who used to visit her, with their black ink fingers and chalk dust in their beards. Lucette inhaled and remembered. The books she ignored, though her fingers trailed along them as she passed. Unlike humans who could stand in place and look, observe, the Kelvic could not. The need to touch, to brush each thing in the vicinity was instinctual, and the slave glided through the room in a pattern only she could discern. “Then it must be very special, if it is your favorite,” Lucette slid past, to touch the man’s jaw with an open palm, before continuing on. “So many desks, for so many students… You must be very dominant to control them all.” It was a compliment that came from the Kelvic, punctuated by a knowing look… yet she did not elaborate, distracted as she was by one of the desks. Her body flowed between the rows in her lazy gait, and lowered herself down onto the chair of the desk. Her shapely legs folded to the side, and crossed at bare, pale ankles. The dress failed to cover much. “Do I look like a student?” She asked with an innocent smile, though the eyes that lifted to his were inviting and decidedly not innocent, as Lucette’s playful nature shown through. The Kelvic toyed with the man. “Teach me something Delano Marx… show me what else this building holds…” her voice was husky and direct… as a finger traced along roughly carved words in the old desk top, though Lucette, having never been taught, was unable to read the childish messages left behind.

[Legion]

Lucette turned his head with that touch, the warm draw of her palm across his jaw leaving his eyes trailing after her as she weaved and prowled through the rows of desks. Beryl eyes grew heavy lidded, his smile lazy and he followed, placing worn boots along the same path she had traveled to wind him through the desks. He had walked the paths of many in his life, and he was ever unable to help himself from continuing this practice. Upon reaching her, he dropped to a seat on the edge of the adjacent desk and twisted down. One hand rummaged through the contents, unearthing first a leather ball that he blinked at before stuffing back in. "You look like my dream of a pupil," the lieutenant admitted with one of those rumbling, chicory filled chuckles. "It's distracting, but wonderful as you're a beautiful woman, Lucette." Here he smile, a little quiet, and finally pulled a wood bound book and a sheaf of torn parchment out. A half full, pot bellied ink pot and a handful of quills in varying states of use came next. "Dominant?" He raised his eyebrows at her, considering, and sifted through the quills until finding one to his liking. "I'm Denvali," he agreed. A Denvali lieutenant translated into dominant by his lights. "What of you? And what do you think about words? The written word. If you know how to read," and encouragement spread through his words, "You could teach yourself anything with the proper book." Delano Marx was a giant nerd.

[Lucette]

Lucette shifted in the chair, leaning first one direction, then another as if she tried to discern the most comfortable position on the hard surface. Elbows placed on the desktop, the Kelvic then cradled her chin in her palms and moved her carefree shoulders as if she studied something before her. It was an attempt to emulate how she thought a student might behave. Holding her head just so, Lucette appeared very pleased with herself. As she lifted her head, her look was welcoming, open, suggestive… “I like dreams… you can do anything in them.” “I am a slave… there is nothing past that,” she answered. It was a simple fact; the Kelvic was whatever her masters required. Each visit with a patron, and her role changed. It mattered not to her what it was. A shrug began to form upon her shoulders, but the movement was captured - it was one of the old forbidden actions… and Roland had declared it unladylike. “I do not think about words, what would be the point? I speak them… and they are gone… Why keep them longer?” She readjusted, and the hair drifted across her shoulders. Then she said, “I do not read,” as his hands touched the quills. Immediately her gaze rested upon the feathery tips. “But I have seen books with pictures… I like them very much.” Knowingly, Lucette smiled at Delano. For a man of books and words, he was terribly short sighted. “But no, no…” she shook her lovely head softly, as a Kelvic she had a very different perspective, “…if we could teach ourselves all we needed to know… people would have no use for one another. That would be a lonely life and sad.” Her head lifted, curiously, “You are a teacher… is this what you do? Teach yourself? Alone?”

[Legion]

“I’d not thought of it like that,” the lieutenant admitted. The quills spread in his hand with a playful air, bobbing lightly in Lucette’s direction while his smile loitered, an afterimage from a younger hour. He tilted his head, squinting at her. “Being alone, however, does not necessarily equate loneliness. Not for someone like myself, though I understand there is between our races a vast difference. I was married once, and she died.” There a sorrow, the shade of it rippling over his face, but it had been laid to rest long ago, dulled by the passage of time and the change of circumstance. An elegant motion drew him out of his slouch, quills dropping in a scatter on the desk top before her not unlike the thud of the dead pigeon earlier arrowed. He roamed to the shelves, passing by older stacks until coming upon the selection of a crudely bound, wide leafed volume. He tugged it loose and turned back to her. “I teach others as well as myself,” he explained. “You think of words as vanishing? Words can have power of teeth, Lucette, phrased right.”