Zeltiva Archives Building [Adventure Torc and Hadrian]

[Torc Ironwood]

As Chashakja gave her heated comment all Torc could do was have a sly grin and a heated thought about what was to come after all this dancing and drinking. There were times when he hated his mixed blood, how it made him feel impure and a lack of heritage, about the only thing he liked about it was the fact most women thought he was sterile. Most people thought since Torc was of two different races, he was like a mule, infertile and though women loved his big muscles, it was the thought that they could couple and not produce children that often brought them to Torc’s bed. Sadly, Torc wanted a family more than anything, but the women that came to him didn’t really see him. However as Chashakja danced, he didn’t really care about family and children, for one night of passion with this dark haired beauty would help curb the loneliness that he felt every day, so as the dance, Torc’s own heat began to build. As Teresa began a new song, Torc moved closer to Chashakja and while moving his hands. He held up the right hand to keep the lead and movement of the dance, but his bronze colored left went to the small of Chashakja back. As Torc placed it there he almost thought he could feel heat radiating from his hand. As their bodies began to come closer there was the only briefest of touches. Torc felt his upper chest barely touch Chashakjas breasts and their thighs slightly glided by one another as each moved into the next step. Though if any was so inclined to look, there stomachs were at least several inches apart, but the dance was made to be more inminate in nature as he felt his cheek brush lightly against hers. Softly he felt his hand rub gently against her back massaging it and stroking the very top of her buttocks. Torc knew enough that skin small intimate contacts of it would do more to enchance her desire than anything else right now. It was a promise of feeling. A man with the lightless touch could bring flame quicker to a fire then one who just threw on logs. A part of his wanted to gently kiss her ear, but he kept himself back. He didn’t want to spoil everything be advancing to much, so soft heated breaths glazed her ear. Torc tried to sense her heart beat through his hands to find out if she was began to enjoy the sensations. However, he knew that his own heated desire might stop cloud his mind. As Torc turned and saw Hadrian and Vivenne he simply gave Hadrian a glance. Why wasn’t he trying to seduce Vivenne? By the gods it’s almost as if Hadrian was making a friend, not a hot blooded woman that wanted him. Quietly Torc spoke into Chashakja’s ear, “Hmmmmm I could do this for hours. It feels almost like we fit together, two halves finally joining.” Though Torc had said it in the gentle tones and soft words, he didn’t really mean it. Torc knew that Chashakja wasn’t his soul mate, but then again he also knew that their bodies would certainly fit well together for several hours. So Torc said it being as sincere about the physical joining as possible. “You know the song seems to almost mirror our encounter. A woman leaving her home, finding a man with passion in his eyes, I can’t imagine every letting you go… I would do my best to find imaginative ways to keep you here.” Torc was actually thinking of quite a few right at that moment.

[Liminal]

"History of post-Valterrian classical dance," Vivienne answered. "Chashakja and I are both taking it. For all that she's got less intellectual pursuits on her mind right now, she's quite bright, and we always study together. Especially since we're roommates right now, renting an apartment above one of the shops west of the University."

A wry smile came to her lips, and she tilted her head to the side. "So...maybe you can help me? Quick -- what role did the influence of Eypharian dance forms play in Sailman's development of neoliturgical dance during the 4th century AV?"

Teresa had started another song, a wandering, almost mournful instrumental. It was slow, slow enough that the man with the drum wandered off to the bar, leaving nothing but the sound of the lute.

Chashakja's hand was on Torc's shoulder; as he began to caress her, she looped a strand of his hair around her fingers and teased it out. As she reached the end of the strand, she leaned in as if to say something, but instead nibbled rather hard on Torc's ear.

"I don't care what you would do," she breathed. "I care what you're going to do. Because, trust me -- I know what I'm going to do."

[Torc Ironwood]

As Chashakja began to nibble hard on Torc’s ear, he was a bit turned off by the whole thing. He had assumed that Chashakja was delicate flower into tender movements and soft touches that led to hard movements. Instead Torc adjusted his left hand lower down upon the dancers body. His grip changed into a steady pressure, slightly rough and unyielding. Chashakja wanted something a little harder then tender kisses and the play of fingers across her skin. So Torc moved the two behind a beam to block them from Vivenne’s and Hadrians sight. Torc’s hand firmly squeezed the meaty cheek, and went in for a firm kiss of her mouth. It wasn’t forced till their mouths met. Though firm Torc moved his jaws allowing his mouth to open and slightly suck in her lip to nibble on it. As Torc kissed he felt his body rub briefly against her. His muscles were hard and taut, but he kept the pressure lose enough not to drown her. Upon releasing her, spoke softly looking into her eyes. “Words are meaningless, what I am going to do can only be seen back at my place. Want to go right now?” It was forward, but Torc thought that she had gotten to the point where they could break off from her friend, and besides Hadrian might get lucky if Vivenne wasn’t looking for her friend. Torc, however, made sure to give Chashakja a choice. She might want to be rough feeling a mountain of muscle under her, but it was also about control to. She wanted to feel wild and desired. She wanted to experience passion so hot that Torc was probably going to have fingernail marks all over his body by the morning, if not a few bruises. Torc wanted perhaps something a little more tender, but he wasn’t one to refuse the desires of a woman. He gave her another squeeze with his hand quick and firm, yet yielding to reverse tension. Being a blacksmith, Torc knew how to use just enough strength to forge his piece. It wasn’t about words anymore, and Torc used the subtle pressure of his body to relate need and desire. The pressure of his hands, lips, and chest, he used his gaze to relate need. He couldn’t believe that Hadrian was the one to mention girls, and looked to be failing with the one who had chosen him.

[Hadrian]

Unaware of Torc and his lovely lady, Hadrian made a quick transition from awkward to confident, his shoulders dropping and his posture straightening. He leaned slightly forward and his face opened up and his eyes caught fire.

"Well, unfortunately the arts aren't my bailiwick, but I know how important the arts are to Eypharian culture. Their dance, especially the style developed as part of their Eypharian opera, is linked to the seeds of their religion even if they have become a fairly irreligious race. Their creation story, Royet and Eypha, is still the most commonly reprised theme. Their art is so highly stylized, though... I believe that would have been its greatest gift to neoliturgical dance, which, from what I understand, seeks rigid forms not so much to quash creativity and true religious fervor, but to refine and distill it... I mean, the rigid structure that came from Eypharian dance is the crucible for inspiration in neoliturgical dance..."

He paused, suddenly second guessing himself.

"Is that it?"

If art and dance were not his forte, it was clear he hadn't left them unstudied.

[Liminal]

Chashakja returned the kiss with more passion than perhaps Torc had experienced in some time. She was all fire, this one, and her expression conveyed her willingness to go home with him. She took his hand, and dashed out the door as quickly as he would follow.

However, perhaps only a block from the tavern, Chashakja instantly stopped cold. It wasn't due to anything Torc had done or not done; rather, it seemed to be in response to a figure crossing the street in front of her.

Ironically, the man hadn't been paying attention to her before, but her sudden stop made him turn his head. He looked over, and then a slow smile spread over his face. He was probably in his mid-thirties, and had an insignia on his shirt that marked him as a full member of the Sailors' Guild.

"Why, hello Shakjy," he said. "And hello to you too sir. I see you've got yourself another new companion, Shakjy. Tell me, does he know all about you?"

Although the man's voice was pleasant, if somewhat smarmy, and though he made no moves that could possibly be construed as threatening, something about him seemed to frighten Chashakja. She didn't even work up an answer to the question, choosing instead to look down at her shoes.

*****

Hadrian's response seemed to catch Vivienne on her heels. The look on her face indicated that she hadn't expected him to have any response at all, let alone one that was well thought-out.

"Actually, that's at least partly right. Sailman visited Ahnatep during the mid-370s, and the dance forms she saw there were profoundly influential. Some of what she took back was indeed the extreme formality of the dances there. More notable to a lot of dancers anyway is the fact that Sailman styled much of her choreography to try and simulate the effect of dancers with four or six arms, largely by positioning ranks of dancers directly behind each other, with the tallest in front. But...not a bad answer, for a mage." She nodded appreciatively.

The music died down. Teresa gave a brief bow and a word of thanks, and then began putting her lute back in its case. It appeared that, for the moment anyway, the tavern's entertainment was at a pause.

[Hadrian]

"I suppose you study music too, then? To help understand the relationship between music and dance... Was it Hallister who said that dance is music set to the human body?" He frowned; normally he had a bit of an eidetic memory, but nerves and women tended to frazzle him to the point where it became a bit wonky.

After asking, he glanced after the musicians.

"I ask because I recently bought a flute to play around with and try to figure out how music theory applies to magic. Like harmonics and all that. See how djed responds to vibrations. Eventually I'll have to find someone to teach me or it'll be all boring, what I do..."

He clapped for the singer and her accompanist, then tried to check on Torc and his lady, but it appeared they had gone. That bastard.

[Torc Ironwood]

Torc felt the kiss from Chashakja lips and for moment roughly cupped the bottom of her breast. In a way he had to show that he enjoy the passion and would return it. Perhaps that was part of her game? Torc had learned all too well that passion was more of a mind game than anything else. Women, just like men, enjoyed the fruits of passion, but it was often the intellect that stopped one another from enjoyment. Sadly, Torc understood Nikali, better than a lot of the good Gods and Goddesses. Nikali wanted her followers to give into that primal ache in their being. Lust and Desire were intertwined and to awaken pleasure was to ignite that primal understanding. Many times Torc had thought on the act between a man and a woman, and there were times when logically it looked foolish and dirty, but if the two people gave into desire, it wasn’t really about looks or feelings. It was more like a joining of desire and a fire bloom of pleasure. However, in that heated moment Torc sometimes felt that you took on the needs of the other person. Desire was a strange beast, for you could become master and servant to it very easily, perhaps too easily, and as Torc felt Chashakja pull away, he whispered a small prayer so that Chashakja couldn’t hear over the tavern, “I am sorry for you, Nikali, trapped by the needs of so many, and yet in that trap, master of it all.” Torc was happy to lead Chashakja outside, and began the groping in earnest. It was all lips and hands as they moved down the block, and then Chashakja turned cold under his touch. Slowly as Torc looked into Chashakja eyes he realized that it wasn’t because of him. No it was fear, this wasn’t like a nightmare half remembered, she was reliving it. As Torc noticed the sailor, his own feelings of hurt and anger began to rise. That type of fear could have come from a few sources, had she been raped by the man? Was she a slave that might have escaped on a boat to Zeltiva? Was he a killer that she had seen? Slowly Torc lightly step in front of Chashakja, if nothing else he wanted to break eye contact between the two of them. Torc opened his hands and mind, brawling wasn’t just about brute strength. It was about understanding your opponent and feeding his ego till he made a fatal mistake. Shakjy… he knows her more intimately then a brutal raping or just a casual violent act. New companion… perhaps a failed suitor? Now this man is enjoying the terror, he wants to feel big; he needs to show his control and dominance over her. Hmmmmm, he done it before and this feeds some dark desire. Following the need, it had to be on a ship. Torc felt ill, the man wanted to terrorize Chashakja, so he was looking for a fight that he could win. Torc needed the subtlety to fuel that need and yet break the man. Torc laughed, “I know all I need to know about my lady friend. What I find funny is that you don’t know my story,” Torc rolled up his sleeves showing his Isur heritage, “I mean I was talking to some of your lower members, in the Administrative Committee of the Saliors’ Guild, about lower cost lumber from Sunberth today. When I met this lovely lady, I thought that the Aquiras wanted me to travel to this city more often. Now if you feel the need to tell me that I was wrong, then I will ask Chashakja about your name and tell the Sailor’s Guild that there really isn’t any need for me to come here with lumber, since you ruined my tour of the city.” Torc made sure to keep his hands moving like a merchant, he might not be dressed as one, but a representative from Sunberth wasn’t expected to be clothed in silks. They were expected to be roughly cut and very burly, the hard living of Sunberth left rough men. Secondly, the shipwrights were always looking for cheap lumber, and it was a good bet that this lowly sailor wasn’t going to take a chance and piss off the guild. Of course, if the man wanted to call his bluff ,he would have to maneuver to look directly at Chashakja, and Torc could use that to change the sailors movement. A wicked grin came to Torc face as he began to stare down the man. It all came back to Nikali, Torc was wondering if he had sidestepped the man’s needs for something or was about to become of servant for his need of violence. If that was the case, Torc could strike the man with his open hand about the throat. His only hope of winning the fight would be shock and awe, which meant overwhelm force.

[Liminal]

"Theory of the Arts, section five," Vivienne said in agreement. Then she tilted her head. "I play the flute a bit, though I'm more of a singer than anything else as far as dabbling in music goes. I'm no subject-matter expert, but if you've got basic questions, I can probably answer them.

Teresa, having finished packing her instrument, waved in their direction. [b]"Hullo, Vivienne. How have you been?"

"Busy, but well enough," Vivienne replied, walking over to the stage area. "Teresa, do you know Hadrian?" People at the University often knew the most unlikely people, and so this was a real question rather than just a formality.

Torc and Chashakja were now far enough down the street that they couldn't be seen through the tavern's windows any longer. The torch outside the door glinted dully against the glass.

*****

The man raised his hands with open palms, as if to convey that he was no sort of threat at all. "Ah, I hope that simply greeting an old acquaintance isn't enough to ruin your tour, good sir. As for the Administrative Committee, I'm only a simple sailor, and far removed from their dealings." Again, though the subtext of the conversation was probably unpleasant, he was speaking calmly, and it would be very hard to convince anyone looking on that the man was even a possible danger.

"Anyway, Shakjy, I'll leave you to your evening. Though if he doesn't know yet, you know that he'll find out within the hour, if I read your countenance aright." He tipped his cap. "Safe sailing to the both of you," he said, and then he was walking down the street again in the same direction he had been going before.

Even his departure didn't cheer Chashakja at all. She stood, mute and almost trembling, staring at her shoes. The change in her demeanor could not have been more striking. There was a long, long silence, perhaps two or three minutes, before she raised her head again. Her eyes were shining with tears, though none had dropped from her lids yet.

"He's right, you know," she said quietly. "You'll find out soon enough."

Then, in a motion that seemed a cross between frustration and despair, she pushed her left sleeve up as high as it would go. Her arm just below her shoulder was wrapped in a band of flesh-colored fabric. She hooked her fingers into the top of the fabric, and then pulled it down.

On her arm was a brand, clearly several years old at least; it had healed well, but it was still perfectly legible. There was a stick figure of a woman, and beside it, the letter "B." She held it there long enough for Torc to have a good look at it before returning the fabric and sleeve to their original positions.

The only people who got brands were slaves, of course. But the particular brand that Chashakja bore was both well-known and notorious. It was a brand used in Sunberth to indicate women who were brothel slaves.

Chashakja lowered her head again, and a tear dropped softly onto her cheek.

[Torc Ironwood]

As the man left Torc, felt better about himself and how he had defused the situation. Still the hurt that he saw in Chashakja wanted Torc to go and break several bones; so that the sailor would be a beggar for the rest of his life. Torc wished he could have stopped Chashakja from revealing her mark. In a way, it hurt Torc to realize that the woman in front of him had been used by a great deal of men before him. He knew intellectually that Chashakja hadn’t a choice, she had been force into service, but the feeling of being just a single man in a long line made Torc feel so small. Torc could think of a few simple words that would control her back to her mood, but he wasn’t such a heartless creature. It was more important to feel that Chashakja choose him, that she wanted to be in his arms then in just another mans. Slowly Torc brought up his hand and used his thumb to wipe away the tear. “You know what I see? I see a girl who wants to be a dancer in front of me. Her past has changed her, but that isn’t you anymore. If you want, we can go back to the inn and you can leave with Vivenne, that’s your choice. But in truth I felt honored by the simple smile and laugh from the dancer girl before me, as long as those were honest then that’s who I want to be with.” Torc caressed her face, wiping away her tears and pushing away her hair so that she could see him and know the truth. “I know what you showed me was something you are greatly ashamed of, and you shouldn’t be. You have gained your freedom, you made a choice to no longer be a person without dreams or choices; that is a powerful thing. You are better than that sailor, because he judged you from something you left behind.” Almost with a soft but powerful voice Torc spoke, “ You are better then forced kisses.” Torc brought his mouth close to hers and tenderly gave her a kiss. If she tried for something more forceful he would pull back his own head, wanting it to be simple and loving instead of the raw heat or a force reaction. “That’s the kiss I wanted to give the dancer girl I met, because she was a shy girl and had a sparkle in her eye.” Torc whispered.

[Hadrian]

With Vivienne walking over toward Teresa, he had little choice but to follow, vaguely abashed but covering it up with his own brand of aloofness that was a defense mechanism against social ineptness. Or it was just social ineptness itself.

"Hullo," he said, trying to sound jaunty now rather than the strategy of the moment before. "Hadrian Aelius. That was lovely, your playing."

He figured he would keep his music questions to himself. Learning what he could learn on his own was just his way; there was more of a sense of accomplishment. Once he had a basic grasp of a thing, he would go and seek instruction or aid, but generally not before then.