Flashback A Nice Young Man

[Matthew]

"It is a bit silly, but it can still be an exercise. I try my best not to pass any sort of learning experience off as useless. With the cherry stem, it helped develop my tongue control, which in turn can be used for certain other things in the bedroom. It is a valuable skill to be able to precisely pleasure a woman for an extended period of time, instead of stumbling around like you are trying to lick a piece of ice during summer." Remembering all the work that had gone into learning how to tie the stem, Matthew wiggled his tongue a bit inside of his mouth. It had actually been a lot harder than he had thought it was going to be. Sex in general was a lot harder than he had thought it was going to be. It required effort, skill, finesse, stamina... so many different things that he didn't have when he started, and was still working on learning even now. Perhaps one day he would be able to figure it all out and get where he wanted to be, at least when it came to prostitution and escort services. Matthew nodded his head at her explanation, keeping his eyes on the work she was doing. "You should. It is a good way to learn how to interact with multiple types of men. From there, you can take it where you wish. I learned to seduce, for example. But others learn to intimidate, interrogate, manipulate... social skills are a good thing to have, in my opinion. Even if the dates think you are there for romantic reasons, you most certainly don't have to be." He didn't particularly say it like it was a pure fact, or like he was a know-it-all when it came to the topic. In all honesty, he just thought the piece of advice fit her. With how coy and sly she seemed to be, he had no doubt that she could definitely become some sort of excellent manipulator if she really tried. He had no idea if that was what she wanted to be, though. He honestly knew very little about the woman. He was okay with that, though. He certainly wasn't looking for any sort of deep intimate connection, and he doubted she was either. She just seemed to need a distraction. From what, he didn't know. He would do his best to offer it, though. Even in Amelia didn't really have any cooking skills to speak of, Matthew didn't really notice. He was actually quite impressed by even the simple things she was doing, from cracking the eggs to mixing the dry ingredients. Her recipe seemed to be a bit more advanced than his, but it looked like it was going to be something rather tasty. Her question nearly went un-noticed, but he managed to snap out of his focused state, blinking a bit before wrinkling his forehead in thought. "Honestly, not really. I don't particularly go into them to regret, if that makes any sense. I mean, I sell myself, and a sold object doesn' t ask questions about what he is asked to do. There have been some people with odd fantasies, of course. Choking, tying, violence. It is what they ask for though, so I don't hesitate. Dates are usually fairly normal, and they offer a chance to explore something new. Like baking. I enjoy learning." He offered a small smile, still scanning his memory. His willingness to do whatever the client wanted would likely get him in some sort of trouble one day. He had no doubt that Ravok would offer the most interesting fantasies to fulfill, or so he had heard. He would deal with that once he got there, though. He watched her taste the liquid, not sure if she could see him out of the corner of her eye, but giving his lips a hungry lick for the show of it anyways. As she pointed out the cherries and wrapped around Matthew's neck, he stared down at her for a moment, a playful look flashing in his bright blue eyes. After a moment he nodded, hands slipping to hold her hips, gently walking her over to the cherries with him. It was only a step or two away really, but it kept them touching the entire time. "Of course, miss." He was teasingly polite, dropping a wink. He leaned forward, hips pressing to her hips once again, pressing her into the counter edge just a bit. Slowly lifting his strong arms from her hips, he instead scooted them under her arms, reaching around to grab the bowl of cherries. He wasn't so sure the best way to do it, but settled on using a small paring knife to slice the berries in half and then gently pry out the pit. He was again quite neat about it, arranging the pits in one pile, stems in another, and sliced cherries in the next. He was quiet with his work, settling against her again, letting his chin lightly perch on her shoulder and his warm breath caress at her ear. The hot springs had showed him that she could enjoy a comfortable silence with physical touch. She did seem a bit more talkative though, making him wonder... "When I go to Ravok, you should visit. If you are there by the time that I get there." The sudden mention of the forbidden city was abrupt. It was quiet in tone, but casual in nature. He glanced blue eyes over to her, tilting his head a bit on her shoulder.

[Amelia Cross]

Amelia was open to a lot of topics, a lot more open than most would be in Syliras. None the less, she found the way Matthew spoke, a bit off putting. Maybe it was his choice of words, maybe the references, but she doubted it had the effect on her he might have wanted to achieve. Or maybe it was that reference to sex that was disturbing Amelia. To her, it had always been a game. A man had left her young mind messed up, and she didn’t see it as anything more than desires of an animal that weren’t worth half the fuss people make of it. To her, it was more than enough to be held, to feel skin against hers and maybe, if they earned it…a kiss. Then again, a game is a game”you are so much talk boy, wonder if you really have the skill to back it up” If she had to be honest, she didn’t doubt he had a trick or two, she just enjoyed looking at people, and their reactions to certain ways she spoke.

She couldn’t help but chuckle at the answer of the harlot ”I said I don’t date, I never said I’m anti-social…or that I don’t know how to bring a man to his knees…pleading for me” her voice dropping to the one you could find between the lips of a man eater, it was fake, she was no actual actress…but she made her point clear. ”I just don’t need a date for it, I find my prey within ballrooms that are covered in black gold…”

”is there even one thing in you, that is real?” she questioned herself, looking at the man with the corner of her eye. So far, he doesn’t even refer to himself as much human, like he isn’t even a dog…but an object that can be sold and used, not allowed to feel or like anything he is doing. At least that was what Amelia saw from his words and his behavior, and as much as she enjoyed the feeling of his body against hers, she couldn’t drop a few things out of her mind, but those things won’t really stop her from a game ”so if I tied you up, if I said that I wanted to hurt you in inhuman ways…and it would bring me satisfaction…would you agree? ” and even though she wouldn’t ask for it, she was curios.

Once they had moved towards the cherries, her mind had gone blank. She just did what she had to do. She toke a cherry in her fingers and with a knife cut it, twisted the two half’s and removed the seed, organizing everything neatly into neat stacks if you could call it that. She was working on an auto pilot setting, repeating the actions casually, over and over. Nothing was distracting her and she found other things meaningless, sometimes, she did take a few things too serious. Nearly done, since there weren’t that much of the berries to work with, Amelia was cutting yet another one in half, when the harlot spoke of Ravok. She snapped out from her daze and cut her finger, when she slammed the knife on the table. She was not really angry, she was just disappointed with the man, but she did take it off as a bit of unawareness.

”never” she whispered a bit casually, emotionlessly as she found a way to turn around and face the harlot, without the need to increase the distance between them ”never mention that city within these walls…the citadel has ears and eyes, if someone hears you speak the name of that city here…it’s the fastest way to get yourself killed…if you get lucky” since she was a child she was thought of never talking about the city, and the setting was similar in Ravok. After all, one of the biggest insults there were to be called a ‘Sylirist’…She kept an intense look, locked with Matthew as she rested her hands backwards on the table. Amelia was really just doing good to the boy, she was sure of it. Not to mention, her own safety could depend on it, after all, she had people waiting for her at the lake city. ”speak of the city, of its patron…and you will soon find yourself in deep trouble”

[Matthew]

He looked confused for a moment, and once again that look like a hurt little boy passed through his sky blue eyes. "I thought you just might like the tip. If you ever need to learn tongue control, then practice a cherry stem." He was almost amusing, though she might not think so. He wasn't actually trying to seduce her with his little speech of before. He was genuinely trying to share what he felt was a clever tip when it came to sex. If she had wanted a reaction though, she had managed to get it. The hurt was briefly there, but then quickly swirled away, like the tide washing back off of a beach. He refocused himself, narrowing his eyes at a particularly difficult cherry, doing his best not to cut himself. If she paid any attention, she would notice that he was being very precise with each cherry he sliced. Almost every single one looked the same. He had started off extremely slow, but he was starting to hit his stride. It was a bit of an obsessive compulsive stride, but it was getting the job done. The next words out of her mouth seemed to summon some sort of curiosity from Matthew. He was very slowly changing in front of her, turning from that closed-off harlot to this somewhat open, innocent, curious little thing who liked to cuddle her close. If she was acute enough with her senses, she might be able to tell that it was still something of an act. Almost. This was more like he was slowly instinctively shifting himself to match the tone of their date. It wasn't purposeful, just some sort of seductive talent. "Ballrooms? Black gold? Is this some sort of event?" He couldn't dance, though he had been in many a ballroom. That summoned up another question, which he voiced without even really thinking about it. "Can you dance?" Considering her next question, he nodded. "Yes. Within some limits. If I felt my life would be put in danger, then I would decline on those grounds. If it was something that would mutilate me in a very unattractive way, then I would also likely decline. Other than that, I am quite open." He paused a moment, eyes conflicted, not sure if he should tell her what was on his mind. Her curious stare won him over though, as he felt she would appreciate the direct honesty. "There was a woman once who wished to cut me." He pointed down to his package, tracing where it almost pressed against his inner thigh. "Right here. She wanted there to be blood. Only two light, precise cuts. Not at all painful, nor would they leave a scar. The idea of having blood mixed in with the intimate activities is odd, but everyone has there thing. It is merely red liquid touching flesh in the end." He shrugged again, hoping this answered her question. He spoke very casually and professionally about it. If anything, he was very nuetral in the ways of the world. Her sudden turn and almost-stern voice caught him by surprise, and once more she was met by curiosity and innocence. He questioned the world, and soaked up answers like a thirsty sponge. "Why? I haven't been to Syliras much, or Rav-" He paused, biting his lower lip, catching himself. After a moment, he continued, correcting his mistake. "...the other place. Or should we..." He paused again, and then slowly leaned down. He wasn't really trying to be seductive, but came across as it anyway. His chest firmly pressed to hers, the line of the muscle underneath easily felt by the soft curves of her breasts. His lips brushed her red ones, not quite touching, just nearly there. He whispered, eyes on hers, the tone low enough to only be heard by the both of them. "...go somewhere else on another date, so you can tell me in private? Outside the walls. I like to learn." He tilted his head at her, and then glanced down, noticing her finger. A small frown crossed his face, and his body wordlessly left hers. A few moments passed and he reappeared, having found some small bandages in another room. Pressing back to her, he gently lifted her hand, cleaning the wound with a small towel. After the blood had stopped seeping and the little cut was fairly clean, he glanced around, holding the towel to it. Some vinegar caught his eye, and he reached for it, grabbing it and applying a small drop to the cut. Then, he quickly wrapped it, the smooth process showing off the fact that he had indeed studied medicine at some point. It was only basics, but it was something. His eyes returned to hers, and he studied them for a moment, sharing a silent conversation. His hands moved to her hips, and he quietly guided her back around to face the table. Then, pressing against her once more, he went right back to work on the cherries.

[Amelia Cross]

The girl was tempted to laugh, to her it seemed like she had offended the poor harlot with her words and it amused her. It made her question just how good of a harlot he could be, if he got hurt by something as simple. Then again, it was none of her concern, she didn’t intend to make friends with him, see him again and dragging him into bed hadn’t even crossed her mind. So if he would choose to play by pulling out Amelia’s compassioned side with that act, he was going to have to face nothing but a stone cold wall. Actually, she as prepared to put up an act of her own, to make her appear even more of a pain…but the thought vanished just as Matthew began cutting up those cherries again. With her eyes she followed his hands as he worked, calm and thoughtful…he was being highly precise about it, a lot more careful than she expected. Only now she realized one thing, he toke everything too seriously…whatever the task was. This little realization made her wonder off back when she met him at the hotspring and what exactly had happened, more precisely, his behavior and actions. These thoughts made her linger away.

Black gold, Amelia referred like that to a few places in Ravok. She had never seen black gold, and was unaware of how it could look or did it even exist…she just called it like that, she called the balls and galleries, she called the opera and the temple…black gold. Because though the events and places were so common, and people saw them as nothing more than average buildings, except the temple, Amelia saw all of them as gems, as dreams and illusions…so naming them all a surreal thing like Black gold, seemed fitting. Yet she didn’t explain anything about what her ‘Black Gold’ was ”I can, but I don’t like ballroom dancing” and her ‘I don’t like’ was an escape, as she didn’t want to admit she was horrible at it. She could find a rhythm to move her body in when the music was free and she could just twist around with no rules, but ballrooms, you had rules and moves you had to follow. You couldn’t lead, because the man was supposed to and it was too conservative and strict for her liking…but strangely, she loved the events despite them being awkward for her. ”I like freedom”

The strange request that other woman had had, it was really odd in Amelia’s opinion. She could see as pain, as an emotion, being a turn on…she had experienced someone being excited over causing pain to her, she was sure that she was somehow excited to see pain in others…but blood? How could that ever mean and do anything? At most, it made people feel disgusted…but for strange reasons she saw the liquid in her dreams one time too many. The Cross girl didn’t really let herself comment on his experience though. She had what to say, but her father had said that some things are better left unsaid. And that was exactly what she thought of it, as most of what she had to say…came down to personal experience and traumatic events…no, that was not something she would like to share. Not now, now ever.

Maybe if Amelia didn’t take this matter as seriously, maybe if she could look on this all as a game…maybe then she would take advantage of the way Matthew had leaned down on her, of his lips so close to hers that it would take nothing more than a gentle, innocent push to taste him. But this was different. Living between two cities, torn between two cities that are in a never ending cold war. She knew just how bad it would get if you were found talking fondly of it here, of Rhysol or gods forbid…Ebonstryfe & Black sun…or about the knights in Ravok. It was all a never ending circle, and Amelia wasn’t sure, would she really want to help him understand the dynamics of it. And while she was struggling with her own thoughts, Matthew moved away and she found no point in bringing it up. She just watched as he was taking care of her finger. Nothing big, nothing of notice was really done…but she was amazed and grateful by the actions, even if the cut wasn’t deadly, even she didn’t thank him.

Bout of them finishing off the work, Amelia stayed silent, glancing over at Matthew’s hands once in a while, but mostly concentrating on her own, to not harm herself. It was a matter of chimes, and they were done, except for a pair of berried laying in the bowl…she pulled her pale fingers towards them, pulling the two up by the stern, her initial idea was to just eat them…but she couldn’t resist ” …how do you do that little trick of yours?” she was actually curios,but mostly of how he would explain the process and teach it, than actually learning it though. ”I’m a good student”

[Matthew]

He nodded in agreement with her opinion on ballroom dancing. "I don't either." He didn't like it simply because he wasn't good at it. If he decided to practice one day, then no doubt he would actually find some enjoyment in it. It was methodical and calculated, with just enough room for imagination. It was a science, or at least it looked like it, so it was definitely something he could see himself doing. Her reason had been that she liked freedom. He assumed that she meant the rigidness of the dance was a bit too much for her. He could see that. She seemed like she enjoyed pressing against the invisible boundaries of society. Just enough to cause them to bend outwards a bit. Or was that her pushing against the boundaries of Syliras, specifically? He wasn't sure. He noticed she didn't answer his question, so he left it at that, not wanting to push it too much. She was obviously quite passionate about it, so to keep quiet must mean she had quite a good reason to do so. Or perhaps she was worried that he might be part of the Knights, if they were indeed so very suspicious of Ravok and anything that had to do with it.

When she brought up his little trick, he nearly asked which one. He had a few little tricks. He had only told her about the cherry stem though, so he assumed she meant that. Glancing over to the pile of stems that had been plucked out, he found a particularly long one and pulled it from the group. Glancing at her, he held it up to show. "A long one makes it easiest. I'll try my best to show you, though it may be a bit hard. I'll have to talk around the stem. Or perhaps just remove it after each step. First, you want to start with folding the stem around your tongue. One half of the stem on the top, the other half on the bottom. Then, you just take the stem between your front teeth, and bite until the ends of the stem cross over." He showed her, laying the stem flat like he had said, his mouth opening to show his rather graceful tongue and white teeth manipulating the little sprout of green. Reaching onto the tip of his tongue, he grabbed the stem, and showed her. It very clearly formed almost a fish shape, with the tips crossed over in an x. "And then, you just need to use your tongue to slip the stem through the circle you have made, and then tighten." He put the stem back on his tongue, and quickly followed through with an example. A quick and elegant curve and lash of his tongue knotted off the stem, and he gently set the little piece down on the table. "The one thing people don't thing about is keeping the stem as dry as possible. A lot of the time, I would see a man or woman tug it out to proudly display it, and there would be spit dripping from it. You can imagine how incredibly sexy that was." Setting his tools neatly to the side now that he was done with the cherry slicing, he glanced over at his own bowl. The towel he had draped over it had a bit of a bulge, so he went over to check out the next step.

Dusting his hands with a bit of flour, he quickly punched down the dough, having no idea if there as any technique to it. He merely popped it with his fist a few times. When the recipe called to knead the dough, he had no clue what that meant, so just sort of awkwardly patted it a few times. With that done, he flipped it over and covered it again, letting it rest for the final time before sticking it in one of the hot ovens.

"Does your finger feel alright?" He returned to her, glancing at the hand, reaching out to take it and examine it if she would allow. "The littlest cuts are usually the most annoying, or at least in my experience. I dislike the nagging pain, instead of the straightforward and obvious pain." He nipped his lip as he considered something for a moment, then would lift the finger and give the bandage the lightest kiss. It was just another little show of sweet physical affection, and then that was that. It was slowly becoming obvious that he was just pampering her with all sorts of kisses, not trying to take it a step further. While sometimes his eyes glanced with that sexual gleam, he wasn't like some of the other fellows who may have wanted to further explore her body after pampering it. Instead, he took simple and satisfied pleasure in that and that alone.

[Amelia Cross]

She wasn’t interested in the trick as a whole, no. Amelia still didn’t understand how one would find something like that attractive or seductive. None the less, she did find something beautiful in the art of teaching, and she hopped to get a good laugh from the way Matthew would try to explain her the dynamic of this task. Looking at him with her dolly black eyes, innocent like a sheep’s she listened, but no laughter came. The harlot was so generic about the task at hand that there was no room for Amelia to giggle or chuckle, nothing to tease him about so she just stood there, entertaining herself with nothing but her two cherries. Eating them slowly with no rush and throwing out the stems and cores. Amelia did however giggle when she heard his last remark about it being unattractive when the whole knot it covered and dripping in saliva. She couldn’t agree more.

Whit his little trick done, the teaching brought to the end she didn’t bother repeating it at first, not finding it all that interesting. She was much more found of following the way he seemed to beat up the dough of his would be loaf. ”poor loaf”’ Amelia was no cook, she had no idea, was it right or wrong. But to her, from her point of view, it looked like Matthew was beating it up and it just seemed wrong, then again…she was judging his skills while not aware that she had made more than a few mistakes while mixing up her own dough.

Amelia didn’t really react much to the way he pampered her little cut. She found it cute, no doubt about it, but unusual. It as an alien feeling that she enjoyed and missed in her life a lot, because her behavior made a lot of the attention she received come towards her in a negative way. A lot of people viewed her as a prideful and arrogant, cold and thought of her in ways she didn’t want to be seen of. What made her want to distant herself, now, when her mother had paid a man to bring her on a date…she didn’t want to admit to herself or him that she was enjoying any of his attention. Even now, she didn’t want to thank him for the way he seemed to care for her cut.

When he was done, out of pure curiosity she looked over at the pile of stems, she didn’t forget him mentioning that it was easier done with a longer one, rather than a short one…what made perfect sense once you think of it enough. Though she had no interest in digging through them and she just picked one up randomly, it was just medium length and smiled at the man, wanting to pull back from the awkward feeling she was getting to a more familiar field of playfulness ”so…let me see if I got you right” she giggles and pulled it in her mouth. Saying she had good control over her tongue was probably exaggerating, she had a bit of a struggle following the instructions of folding the stem and biting it over to that weird shape of a fish. She tried once, twice, only the third time around did she succeed and finally get it over in a week knot.

The girl could feel that the knot had formed correctly in her mouth, but she had no gut to show her result to the man, as she had a bad feeling about it being just as bad as it should have been. Her pale palm covered up her mouth as she turned away, holding up a light laughter as she threw out the failed knot. ”let’s pretend, I never tried that” and with that she reached over to the bowl of the chocolate loaf mixture she had made and brought it closer. With care she folded in the prepared cherries. Taking great care to not squish or break any of them, doing her best to spread them evenly along the mixture.

”Matthew, did you see any pans?” Amelia asked while covering her mixture with a towel to rest for a bit.

[Matthew]

Caring for her cut was outside of his act, funny enough. There were sometimes things that he would throw in to aid his appearance as a harlot, such as sweet little kisses or sucks, but the care was genuine. It was just something that eventually appeared in a lot of people who studied medicine, or at least he thought. It was debatable if the concern was for the person or the physical body, and that was something that Matthew thought differed from practitioner to practitioner.

Her show with the stem was interesting, and he watched closely to see how well his teaching had come across. Her poor lips twisted and her cheeks bulged as she tried her best to tie the stem, and the harlot felt just a bit of amusement swirling up inside of him. He quickly dampened the emotion though, making sure it didn't pop up on his handsome face, though his blue eyes did sparkle for just a brief second. They were far and away the most expressive part of his body. As she giggled and pulled the knot away from her lips, keeping it hidden, he cracked a small smile at her and shook his head silently. It was fun to watch her work, if anything. She was certainly a unique girl. One of the reasons he actually enjoyed this profession so very much was because of the wide range of interesting folks he ran into.

"Pan? Pan." He blinked and nodding, snapping out of yet another little moment of silent pondering. Racking his brain for where he had caught a glimpse of pans, he slowly turned a full circle and eventually stilled. He stepped off in the direction he had pointed his body at, and shuffled through some nearby shelves until he found a few dented and blackened pans. He carefully brought them down, bringing two to Amelia, and one for himself. Going back to check on his dough, he was happy to see that it had risen just a bit more like it was supposed to. One or two more punches brought the dough down, and he quickly dumped it into the pan he had found. The lady already had the ovens preheated for them, so he just waited until Amelia was done dishing up hers, going over beside of her to watch. He once again moved in close as he approached her, hip touching her own in another small intimacy. There was a tilt of his head for a moment, and then sudden words spilled out.

"You are very different from your mother." His neutral tone didn't label it as a compliment or an insult, just a voiced observation. It was up to her how she would take it.

[Amelia Cross]

Amelia smiled at the harlot who she began feeling unnaturally comfortable with by now. She toke one of the pans and returned her full attention to the chocolate mixture and the pan in question. She let her pale fingers slide along the lines of it, outlining the shape and form, measuring the depth you could say. She picked up the paper once more and looked down on the instruction, it didn’t say what she exactly had to do, it said she had to prep it for baking…what did it even stand for? She knew her mother did something to prep the pans when baking cookies, but what was it? She couldn’t remember.

The girl tapped her finger against her chin, a habit she had when thinking over something, some more, more and then she remembered that it had oily mixture figuring in it…butter! Was it? She still had doubts, but it was better than nothing, at worst, she could always say it was her intention to joke around and burn everything and it was meant to be like it is. She toke some of the softened butter in her hands, began smearing it in the rectangular baking pan, making sure to cover every bit of the inner walls and base of the pan. Only when she was nearly done did she notice that Matthew hade come back by her side.

Unwillingly she let out a smirk as he stated his thought on her and her mother. Didn’t need a genius to crack that one, Amelia and Ophelia where something so opposite that nobody would really compare them, even visually they didn’t come off as a mother and daughter, as Amelia seemed to have picked up more from her father. It was funny, but they somehow managed to be in harmony though, for the most part…when Ophelia didn’t try to put down Ravok, use propaganda of Syliras on her or try to find a good date for Amelia…”toke you long enough to realize that, me and mommy are on quiiiiite the opposite branches” she joked it off, but in reality, she sometimes wished she would understand her more.

The pan’s insides were coated in butter and she was attempting to get the mixture in the pan, but it seemed to be too sticky for her liking and she toke some flour in her hands to pull it together and get it out of the boul. In no time it would spread and fill the pan from side to side ”so far so good, could the harlot be so kind to take the pan and put it on to bake?” the girl said, not really handing him the pan since her hands were a mess of bout butter, flour and a sticky chocolate paste. The girl couldn’t help it, she liked working with her hands….in some cases.

She looked away, doing her best to look for water, and all she could find was the water she used before to wet her hands…since bout of them were done with the mixing part, she sank her hands in and cleaned her fingers before drying them lightly off on her apron. She looked around, the mess from the cherries they left was not something she wanted to see by the time the baking was done. So she began cleaning up the table, with the cherry stems being the first thing she cleaned, the pits next. Arranging all of the empty, dirty bowls into each other by size and by using wipe she cleaned away any liquids that where left behind. ”after we finish baking, what are the next things planned? Romantic walks? Leading me to bed? Walking me home and thanking the gods its over?”

[Matthew]

Watching her put the butter in her pan caused something to itch at the back of his mind. He was missing something, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. He stared at her and the pan a bit longer, the gears behind his eyes turning rapidly. He wasn't usually the forgetful type, so perhaps it wasn't that important of a fact. He dismissed it, returning his eyes to her own as she joked about her mother. "I am like my father." Was he? He mulled over the statement, trying to remember his father. He hadn't actually paid that much attention to the personality traits of his parents. "I looked like him, at least. Or so people said. I don't really think I do." His attempt at conversation was pitiful at best, particularly when it came to family matters. It wasn't something he was very experienced with. He was happy to move on, reaching down and grabbing both her pan and his. He strode over to the oven, lifting a single knee and wobbling on one leg, hooking the handle of the oven with his knee and tugging it open. Bracing himself against the blistering heat, he quickly slid the pans in and closed the doors tight, taking a deep breath of cool air as soon as he could. He noticed her effort to clean, and nodded quietly, agreeing in her choice of tasks. He was quick and effective with his movements, snatching up the dirty bowls and carrying them to a nearby basin of water. He rinsed all of them clean, his observant eyes easily finding all the dirty little details here and there. Soon the dishes were sparkling, and he left them out beside of the basin to dry. He returned back to her, still being quite clean himself, and rose an eyebrow at her question. "Your mother gave me a curfew. I suppose it depends on how much time we have left. I certainly wouldn't thank the gods, though. This sort of thing is how I wish to make my living." Like several other jokes, her last one went totally over her head. His eyes were clueless and calm, his expression serene. "What would the ideal man do for you? Are you one for romantic walks, or being swept into bed?" It could be taken as flirtatious, but it was really just straightforward and honestly curious. He moved closer, settling a hand on one of the countertops, leaning against it in a casual pose as he quietly watched her and awaited her answer.

[Nyxie Nadira Draer]

Matthew :

Skills

• Intelligence - 1
• Observation - 2
• Seduction - 5
• Cooking - 3
• Socialization - 3
• Medicine - 1

Lores

• Amelia: Never goes on Dates
• Amelia: Doesn't like Ballroom Dancing
• Amelia: Very Different from her Mother
• Syliras: Never speak of Ravok

Amelia :

Unfortunately, I'm not able to give you Grades until Seasonal Living Expenses have been deducted from your ledger

Please PM me once this change has been made, and I'll be happy to grade your thread!

Cute thread I really enjoyed reading Matthew's reactions & replies to Amelia's antics. And that last question is such a cliff-hanger~ I'm sorry it didn't get to finish

If you have any questions, concerns, complaints, etc about your grade, drop me a PM and we can most certainly talk it out.
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As always, stay awesome!