Completed Axe Soup Banquet

[Evarista]

22nd of Spring, 517 A.V. On that midday, the terrace of Café Fleurs was fairly busy. There were no free tables when they arrived, but Evarista resolved the situation by demanding a pair of waitresses to carry out a table from indoors. Quietly swearing and exchanging acidic remarks when they thought they were out of earshot, the waitresses eventually pulled out a table and two chairs to the terrace, and afterwards taking Evarista's order with strained smiles. Apparently, today's lunch would be Ravok's traditional and ubiquitous fish soup. There were many places in the city that served better food, but the green café was in some ways special to the young aristocrat, so she found her feet taking her here regardless. Besides, it would be interesting to bring Hwyn here as a customer. Since the lunch hours were in full swing and many people around them have also ordered the soup, the kettles in the kitchen were already full of the stuff, so it didn't take long for their order to be served. The weather in Ravok didn't vary too much throughout the year in the eyes of an outsides, but the locals were sensitive to the subtleties, and getting served a bowl of hot and aromatic soup in the chill of the early spring was a commonly indulged pleasure. The soup was flavorful, but the perceptive would notice that there was much less fish in the taste than in the aroma. Having already had a morning drink to lift her moods, Evarista felt the rare urge to retell a story she's read in My Beloved Absentee. Eating this soup reminded her of it. Stirring the contents of her bowl thoughtfully, she began talking, staring into the sky with unfocused eyes. "Hmm... I've come to think of an interesting passage. Once, there was a traveler who sought evening shelter in an isolated hut near the road. The owner let him in, as was customary, but... hmm, admitted that these were hard times and there's... he had no food to spare. The traveler was sharp, though. He suspected that the host was... hmm, simply a cheapskate... who didn't want to open his pantry for anyone but himself." Putting a spoonful of soup into her mouth, Evarista rolled it around on her tongue, half savoring, half drawing out the pause. Eventually swallowing, she continued. "The traveler suggested cooking a very good and cheap soup, made by boiling... an axe. There was plenty of flavor in an axe, that not many know about, he said. Hmm... the host was skeptical, but also curious, so he let him boil a kettle of water and gave him his axe. The traveler put the axe in the water, boiled it thoroughly... and gave the soup a taste. Well, he said... it was coming along nicely, but some potatoes would make it even better. The host was still skeptical, but brought out some potatoes, and the traveler put them into the kettle." "After a while, he tasted the soup again. Well, he said... this soup was coming along great, and... it's just a few carrots away from being perfect. So the host had to bring out some carrots, and the traveler put them into the kettle. And so it went on and on. The traveler tasted the soup, asked for just one more thing, and the host had to bring it out. Eventually, there was a fine soup boiling in the kettle. The traveler got to eat a hearty meal, and the greedy host was... hmm, very pleased that he found a way to make a meal out of an axe. The next morning, they parted ways as friends." Having somehow finished her meal in-between speaking, Evarista leaned back in her chair contently, folded her hands on her lap, and closed her eyes, basking in the midday sunrays like a lazy cat. There was a long pause, and the story was seemingly over, but the girl was not done talking. Licking her lips, she continued again, moving a single finger to point at the empty bowl in front of her. "Ravokian food can be like that sometimes. There's lots of fish being caught around here. Much of it doesn't taste like anything by itself, but... hmm, you can still make a great meal with it... if you add a ton of other things. Heheh."

[Hwyn]

Axe Soup Banquet

Eating with Miss Eva was a rare treat, though her choice of location was a tad unnerving, he’d left their employ under some rather…. Unpleasant circumstances and hadn’t returned or wanted to explain why he’d left, he’d certainly never come here on his own. But with a Nitrozean bringing him nobody said anything to him, perhaps one of the few nice things about power was that people were less likely to bother you without a good reason.

Today was one of the rare occasions when Efva was doing the talkinging in place of Hwyn who was generally the chatterbox of the two, listening to her intently with wide eyes Hwyn enjoyed the story Eva wasn’t a storyteller or bard by any means but that didn’t make the story she told any less entertaining. It was about a very clever man getting a meal out of a miser, leaving the miser none the wiser. Though thinking about it such a tactic was incredible. Hwyn made a mental note to remember this story feeling like such a trick would come in handy one day, though perhaps not as literally as the story.

Enjoying the meal and the warm sunlight out on the patio Hwyn allowed the short silence after Eva’s story to lull on as he finished his meal he’d been too enthralled by what eva was saying to pay any heed to his own stomach. Though he didn't really have anything to follow up on the story with Hwyn did wonder what other stories where in Eva’a book, many a nice picture and so on but until he learned to read he’d have to hope she felt like sharing again.

“Miss Eva, I’m not really sure i’ve ever liked fish, though I do see what you mean, even if you don’t necessarily like something, you… you… c-can change it until you do like it? Or … s-something like that. It is good though, maybe Lake ravok’s fish are just better than the fish from the ocean.”

Patting his belly contentedly and letting out a small sigh Hwyn joined his master in enjoying the sun that shone down on Ravok, he smiled, he really was beginning to consider this city a home of sorts, for better or worse.

“Maybe I can get the chef to teach me about cooking, so if we ever travel again I can cook for you… I-If you w-want that is”

He’d been looking into broadening the skills he had so that he would be more useful in the future, he’d even gone so far as to looking into getting a lock he could practice picking, though he’d had no luck and was fearful of what him just having a lock might make others think.

“Oh… and speaking of fish… you know how you… turn into things… does that mean, if you grow wings you could fly? Or if you wanted you could swim like a fish?”

The idea of swimming without having to come up, or flying above everything, was amazing. Something he’d love to learn about eventually.

Credit to Shimoje, the bestest buddy

[Evarista]

Listening to his comment on the fish being an acquired taste, Evarista just shrugged half-heartedly, since she never thought about it that way. Fish was as good as anything else in her eyes. While generally picky with food due to being used to a high standard, she was far from a gourmet, and would eat nearly anything as long as it was skillfully prepared. Except mushrooms. Screw mushrooms. When he talked about learning to cook from the chef, she smirked, still looking at the sky above his head. From what she knew from Bryony's gossip, slaves always gave the kitchen a wide berth to avoid being caught by the man, as otherwise they'd be stuck peeling onions, grinding chilies and doing other decidedly unpleasant task until the end of their waking hours. Sending Hwyn to such a fate would be amusing once, but useless as a lesson, as the dirty work was the only kind of work that the chef was willing to delegate. Evarista turned her head to look inside the café, but the kitchen wasn't visible from here. If Hwyn had continued serving at this café, maybe they'd let him become an apprentice cook eventually, although given his appearance, he was more on the side of waitress material. Ah, well. Too late to ponder that now. That boat has sailed. Although, it would indeed be nice if Hwyn could cook for her. She wondered what sort of dishes she'd get. Letting the thought pass, she lowered her gaze to look at the boy's face. Upon seeing his expression, an cold tickle touched the back of her neck. It was that sort of slightly anxious and fidgety look he usually had when he was about to say or ask something unpleasant. Truly enough, he did - perhaps the most unpleasant subject of them all. "Hmm..." Evarista narrowed her eyes at the blonde sitting across from her, which got a momentary sharpness before fading to their normal foggy state again. She was taken off guard. She's never talked about her ability with anyone before, and would probably not even be able to articulate anything meaningful about it. Hwyn and Olcott were the only ones who knew about it, but Olcott never cared to inquire into its nature, and Hwyn didn't count. She had thought so, anyway. But apparently she was wrong. Not feeling prepared to even think about the ramifications, the young aristocrat forcibly tossed it out of her head and ended the conversation by rising from her chair with a start. "Let's go." Leaving a handful of coins on the table as payment for the soup, Evarista marched off the terrace with a long gait, heading back to the Noble District without looking back. However, she was going in the opposite direction of home. The most difficult part of leaving her room was actually leaving the room itself, so now that she was well out of the house in the daylight, she could as well make the most of it. Like nearly everything she did, she set her direction on impulse. There was an urge to do something she's thought about during winter a few times. Among the strange and alien things she's saw in that jungle village, this one was still stuck in her memory... It was a dancer, in most ways foreign, but in some ways familiar. Evarista only saw her once, on an evening she'd had quite a bit of sugarcane spirits, so the images in her mind were hazy at best. Still, she'd recognize those movements anywhere, along with that dress. It was called... Just as the name returned to her, the facade of Azure Reflections popped up around the corner. Azure himself was just leaving, deciding to close early as usual. Before he could shut the door behind him, Evarista used her momentum to push him back inside. The kelvic looked disturbed by the sudden interjection. Doubly so when he realized who was in front of him. "Whoa! We've already closed. Come back next time. Or the time after that." Turning his nose up at Evarista defiantly, Azure tried to push her back out of the door, but the fashion marauder was already well on her way to exploring the store, ignoring him entirely. Rolling his eyes in resignation, the kelvic shuffled back to the counter with an exaggeratedly weary posture. "What do you want here, anyway? The weaver isn't in." Mostly by accident, his gaze fell on Hwyn, making his expression soften somewhat. While he didn't quite know what to make of the boy, he was an infinitely more exciting customer than his master. "Oh. I'm guessing it's wardrobe expansion time, then? What'll it be?" Having failed her initial scouting, the loathsome woman in black was back with a disgustingly smug smirk on her face. She said something unexpected. "Belly dancing." "...what." Azure stared at her as if she had sprouted another head. "I want... a belly dancing outfit. One that would fit him." Evarista's gaze drifted from the visibly confused kelvic to the subject of her visit here. There was a tiny spark in her cloudy eyes; the sort of spark that seldom meant anything good."

[Hwyn]

Axe Soup Banquet

Her reaction was all the information Hwyn needed, she didn’t want to discuss her powers, though that was perhaps not very surprising, after all, magic was something that was in many places frowned upon, if not outright feared or banned. Though he’d wished after all this time she would’ve opened up a little
Then they were off Eva no longer interested in talking dragged him along on another one of her whim fueled adventures. Though her goal was this time a place somewhat familiar though it had odd memories associated with it Hwyn liked the connotations the place carried. It was there that Eva’s intentions for her distraction became apparent. Hwyn wondered if it was a bribe of sorts on her part, she was buying him clothes, though of a style he’d never worn before though that didn’t exactly deter him. He was never sure of Eva’s motives but He wondered just what had made her decide it was time for a change of wardrobe, odder still that she’d chosen dancers clothes, not that he had any qualms about learning such a trade. Though of the three people present it was perhaps Azure that was the most excited. He was an odd sort though he hadn’t seemed pleased to see his master the Levic store clerk was kind enough to Hwyn as he gave him a knowing wink before leading him back into the store.
Looking through rows of clothing until he pulled three differently colored but similarly styled outfits.
“alrighty Hwynny, lets see what colors suit you, We’ve only got three in your size available though I’m sure we could resize another color of you’re mistress would like, though maybe one of these three will suit you.”
Veritably pulling Hwyn out of his clothes the man like any Kelvic seemed to forget that nudity was something that most non-kelvics were uncomfortable with.

Handing him new underwear wich he insisted went with the transparent material of the leggings Hwyn frowned, even for him there design seemed risqué though perhaps if a presentation of his posterior was what Eva preferred, then he’d bear with the bareness. The rest of the outfit was quite easy to put on, in part do to the loose flowing nature of the attire, and the lack of attire in comparison to his more constrictive maid’s attire. The outfit bared his trim stomach, and to his mild displeasure his scarred back the bracelets and anklets that accompanied the outfit jingled slightly as he moved. Presenting himself to Eva in the first outfit Hwyn Twirsled before striking a pose before his master. The first outfit was a pleasant array of greens, with a floral motif, the seams colored like winding vines across a color scheme like dappled green light coming through foliage. Hwyn’s Skin prickled slightly with goosebumps as he felt the still chill air of the early spring season though Looking in the mirror Hwyn decided that the chill was well worth it. Cocking a hip out Hwyn grinned at his reflection.

The next outfit while Similar in design was colored to match the ocean, pleasant blues woven together with a trim reminiscent of the bright crimson orange of coral making subtle appearances. This time when Hwyn showed off the outfit to Eva he twirled more slowly moving like he imagined water would making himself a small wave, it felt… fitting.

Then the last outfit was an Ivory wine with trim colored like a deep maroon wine, it wasn’t mottled or patterned like the other outfits but it had a simple charm to it. When Hwyn presented the last color to Eva He bowed deeply to her in a more “refined” manner before twirling and doing his best to make it seductive, throwing out his hip and arching his back while looking over his shoulder at her, It was funny to think, that he could change his persona with his outfit, it was perhaps something to the effect of “the clothes make the man” but it was fun to play around a bit too, especially if he could get a reaction out of his mistress, especially since he’d irritated her earlier.

“What do you think miss Eva? Do you like any of them?”

Credit to Shimoje, the bestest buddy

[Evarista]

Evarista had always perceived the kelvic as melodramatic and disagreeable, but apparently he was only like that towards her. Seeing him appreciatively twirl the boy around and dexterously pick through the clothing racks was a positive surprise; it looked like he knew what he was doing, and Alira, the woman who owned the shop, didn't keep him on staff for nothing. It was also amusing to see him nonchalantly undressing Hwyn, in the same way Alira did when they last were here. There was nothing strange about it - after all, his personal boundaries weren't his to decide. Crossing her arms and leaning on the wall a bit off to the side, Evarista let her eyes travel up and down Hwyn's figure as the kelvic applied the unusual fashion to it. It was not quite how she remembered the outfit of the Sykan woman, but then again, it wasn't designed for the massive bust and birthing hips an adult belly dancer would be expected to have. Instead, it was made to accentuate the subtle slopes and curves of a younger girl, and Hwyn's figure didn't betray him as far as those slopes and curves were concerned. The kelvic eventually stepped away, apparently happy with his work, and Hwyn turned to her, striking an unexpectedly seductive pose. Evarista's eyebrows rose slightly. Somehow, he didn't seem like his usual timid and awkward self. Both his posture and his aura emanated a relaxed self-assuredness of a sort she couldn't recall him ever display before. In the firelight of the dim shop lantern, the way his bare midriff flexed during his movements and the glitter of the jewellery made him look obscenely decadent. Evarista's eyebrows rose higher. Seeing a boy wear a sundress or a maid's uniform was one thing, but this was on an entirely different level. And somehow, it worked. Rubbing her chin thoughtfully, the decidedly more plain-looking master nodded in approval. Azure, on his side, was also bobbing his head appreciatively, apparently (and unsurprisingly) happy with his own pick. The show had only begun, though, since the kelvic was already pulling the boy out of the outfit and adorning him with a new one. Hwyn ostensibly enjoyed the process, looking himself over in his new colors; sea-blue accentuated with coral. The strangest thing was that the color of his aura changed as well. His previous outfit was green, and his aura was green then as well, but she didn't note it, since Hwyn's aura usually had a greenish tint anyway. Now, however, she could no longer ignore it. It was as if both his body and mind were permeated by the mood of the cloth, making both his movements and his aural emanations smooth and wave-like. The show continued. The third and final outfit was a bit more restrained in its color scheme, and Hwyn accentuated it by a more refined presentation. Truly enough, his aura followed suit, the energetically flowing waves of blue slowing down into an ordered pulse of paler shades. She didn't need to look at his face to know what he was expressing. Without knowing it, the boy was making theatre for her. It was time to decide what to buy. Still leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, Evarista licked her lips slowly. The three variants were almost identical in their cut, and were obviously designed by the same tailor, although it probably wasn't Alira. The woman's style tended towards the heavy and the bombastic, and to Evarista's knowledge she didn't enjoy designing dancer garb, which had to allow good mobility. This was clearly foreign work, perhaps by some countryman of the dancer she had met in Syka. What mainly set the designs apart, then, was the coloring. The kelvic was babbling something about the advantages and disadvantages of each design, but Evarista wasn't concerned with the technicalities of fashion, and decided largely by caprice. To start with, she enjoyed wearing white herself, but she didn't think the color fit Hwyn, so that one could be ruled out. Choosing between green and blue was harder, but she found her mind wandering back to the deep blue waves of his aura while he wore the blue one, matching the movements of his body and the color of the cloth flawlessly. It was uncanny, and it intrigued her. Leaning away from the wall, Evarista finally uncrossed her arms and opened her mouth, bluntly interrupting Azure's monologue on the fine points of Eypharian damasking techniques. "I'll take the blue one. Payment by invoice." Shooting her an indignant glare, the kelvic never the less proceeded to dexterously wrap the merchandise in an inconspicuous linen covering and hand it to Hwyn. Returning to the store counter, he picked up a piece of chalk and a writing tablet, he jotted down Evarista's name followed by a number. Payment by invoice was common in the Noble district, seeing as the wealthy residents generally, and understandably, didn't carry large bags of money on their persons. Putting her hands into her skirt pockets, the annoying customer turned her back and marched out of the store without further comment, not even noticing the exaggerated sigh of relief that the kelvic made behind her. Her mind was already elsewhere, and her feet took her home. *** Back at the estate, she told Hwyn to put on the dancing outfit and come up to her room. There was something she wanted to do... something she wanted to add. Sitting and waiting in the armchair in front of the open window, she slowly clenched and unclenched her right fist, as if preparing her fingers for action. LedgerSmall dyed velvet dress with fine buckles and chains = 16,2 GM

[Hwyn]

Axe Soup Banquet

Cool as always when she observed him Eva calmly watched the proceedings as Hwyn presented himself to her, he was happy when it appeared that even she was unable to completely ignore his poses, her face showing a slight change was big to him. It was nice to enjoy the moment even as he took off the last outfit and waited patiently to see what his master thought.

Her silence was oppressive, like waiting on a judge to meet out his verdict as the thin woman Hwyn called master leaned against the wall seemingly bored hwyn wished even for a moment he could crawl into her head and feel what she was thinking. Had she liked the green one, the blue or the ivory, it was so hard to tell what she was thinking but he craved her approval. He silently waited on her decision as moments seemingly extended themselves to prolong his suffering. Even as the Kelvic spoke to her about something he’d normally be excited to hear about “fashion” her silence was louder than anything else in the room to him.

The finally she moved uncrossing her arms before cutting off the kelvic abruptly and unapologetically as was her custom to announce, that she wanted the blue one. Hwyn wanted to jump in excitement, she HAD liked it. It was well worth waiting for to know too, letting out the breath, he’d been unwittingly holding Hwyn had to contain himself from exclaiming his excitement. There were so few things to be excited or happy about these days, but clothes, well everyone had there vices, and his had just been stroked graciously. Following Eva home in silence he didn’t say anything but he was convinced that he was radiating his pleasure for anyone to see as he beamed excited for the chance to wear his new outfit.

So when they got home and Eva bid him change and come to her room he was happy to do it. Well, mostly happy anyways he was always curious as to her motives but he wasn’t going to deny her request, and the fact that he got to dress up only sweetened the scenario. He didn’t want to make her wait, but he couldn’t bear the thought of not preparing as best he could. So once he reached his room he stripped down giving his body a hard look in the Mirror. He liked his body, he was proud of his good, if effeminate looks, and his hair most of all made him happy. Pulling out the small bottle of perfume from his belongings he quickly sprinkled his flesh letting the flowery aroma take over. Next came the clothes, pulling them on Hwyn posed in his mirror as the outfit came together. Pulling the outfit and adjusting it to be revealing, but not… untasteful, he blushed lightly at the image he was aware he was presenting. However, he had Eva’s attention which was rare enough an occasion that… he wanted to capitalize on it. Lastly he pulled his comb through his locks letting them bounce down his back almost to his posterior at this point.

With that he bounced up to Eva’s room hoping she hadn’t waited to wrong. Popping into her room Hwyn came to a stop at his masters side before coming to a dilemma, did he bow, or curtsey? The outfit wasn’t right for either… so maybe… improvisation. Twirling once in front of her Hwyn smiled shyly before his temperament began catching up with him.

“U-um…. What d-do you t-t-think Miss Eva?”

Credit to Shimoje, the bestest buddy

[Evarista]

Ever fast on his feet, Hwyn was on her doorstep before she could even gather her thoughts. It took her a short while to realize that he smelled sweet because of perfume and not because he spilled a jar of syrup on the way here. She found it unnecessary, as she associated it with her sisters, who were always obnoxiously overdoing their aromatics. It wasn't important enough to comment on, so she instead focused her attention on his dressed-up form. The lighting and environment of her room made him look more familiar, and took off the sharp edge of exoticism he carried in the shop. The uncanny air was still there, however; she was used to seeing him in a stuffy maid dress, so having him waltz in looking like a foreign dancer was pleasantly novel. Still, looking at all the bare skin made her think that he needed some finishing touches. The pause extended while her eyes travelled up and down his figure, while her hand rubbed her chin absent-mindedly. Finally deciding on what she wanted to do, Evarista rose from the armchair and stepped towards the desk, fishing out the inkwell from the desk drawer. She had tried to formulate a plan, but keeping thing in memory was a bother, so might as well just do what came naturally. Returning to the armchair, she pushed it closer to the window and beckoned the boy over, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him towards the pale spring sunrays. Her finger was already forming a firm brush, and sank into the inkwell tentatively while she inspected the canvas closely. Most of his arms, legs and midriff were bare, and looked a bit vacant next to the colorful cloth, so there was plenty of space to paint on. For some reason, she found her eyes drawn to his belly button, as if it was strategically placed by the outfit to draw attention. Which wasn't strange. They didn't call it belly dancing for nothing. Smirking slightly, Evarista stuck her finger-brush into the conspicuous feature and slowly painted a spiral outward, dragging the brush in a small oval, then let it flow out into a larger one, then an even larger one, leaving a glistening black swirl of ink on his abdomen. Once she leaned back a bit to inspect it, she found that the black ink didn't mesh with the outfit's colors at all. Unfortunately, it was all she had on hand. She recalled the nerdy-looking book vendor having all sorts of colors on sale, but going all the way to the shop again was too bothersome. "Hmm..." Chewing on her lower lip, the questionable painter tried to think of a solution, already forgetting that her morphic brush was still hovering in the air and dripping ink on Hwyn's feet. Maybe she could create some ink? She had no idea what it was made of, so a quick auristic check was necessary. Hopefully it wasn't anything complicated, since she hardly had the patience for deep arcane study right now. While she could discern many different ingredients in the ink, she was surprised to find out that the black colorant was a familiar substance - the same one that gave color to her own hair. The rest was water and a number of other things, most of which she didn't recognize, but their purpose was most likely to bind the pigment and make it stick to whatever the ink was painted on. She could replicate that easily enough with glue, albeit a very trace amount. After all, her painting on his skin wasn't supposed to be permanent. This time. Since her index-finger brush was soiled with ink from the inkwell, she made her middle finger into another brush, and tried to build an ink gland at the base of the brush. Just water, glue and pigment. Secreting some of it, she struck a wavy like across the skin on Hwyn's side, following the contour of the dancer garment. Her ink was a bit chunky and had a pitch-black hue, as opposed to the bluish-black hue of the stuff in the inkwell, but she was content with it. Now, to bring some more color to the table... Adding a bit of blood to the ink gland mixture, she spun the boy around and painted another wavy like on his other side. It turned out to be a rich maroon color; rather nice, but it still clashed with his blue-and orange garment. Yellow, maybe? She knew how to make yellow chitin, so it would work to borrow some pigment from that. Spinning the boy to turn him towards the window again, as if he was a practice mannequin, she painted a small X on his abdomen above the black spiral. She had forgotten that her brush was soiled with black and red ink already, so the figure turned out an ugly brown color, but there was definitely some yellow there. This color mixing process seemed simple enough - she was getting the hang of it. But where would she get some blue colors? Glancing out of the window for a moment and suppressing a pang of frustration that she couldn't pull down the blue sky and inspect it for pigments, Evarista tried to think of any other colors she could produce. Her silk was white, for instance. She absent-mindedly wiped her brushes on the corner of her skirt and added some silk dope to the mix. Ink making, at least of this crude sort, was simple enough that she could change the composition on the fly. Still, she had to try it out. Both of her brushes touched Hwyn's shoulder and travelled down to his elbow, leaving two pearly white lines, only slightly smudged by the old ink that still soiled the brushes. For another while, Evarista tried out the various pigments that were familiar to her, painting straight and wavy lines, spirals and circles on various exposed parts of the boy's body. The colors usually ended up being various shades of brown, beige and pink. Each of them didn't look terrible by itself, but the palette was a bit... limited. The girl only stopped when she ran out of space to paint on. Leaning back in the armchair with a sigh, she returned her fingers back to normal, wiped them on her skirt again and clenched her hand into fist, staring at it as if hoping to glean answers. Hwyn, on his end, looked like he had been assaulted not by a maniac with a brush, but by a whole gang of them. But that wasn't the end. There was one last thing she hadn't tried out. "Hmm... we'll have to start over. Wash up and meet me again... in the garden. After sunset." Not bothering to carry the inkwell back to the desk, Evarista put it on the windowsill in front of her and leaned back in the armchair, crossing her arms and staring into the sky thoughtfully. It looked like she had nothing else to say for the time being.

[Hwyn]

Axe Soup Banquet

Being painted was, well it was hard to describe. It was surreal in that it wasn’t something Hwyn couldn’t think of anything else in his life to compare it to. Though he didn’t think he disliked it. He’d seen many a painting in his day, after all he did live in a rather well to do manor. However he’d never found art too terribly interesting unless it portrayed the dramatic scenes from books and such. However when eva painted him he was in a way, becoming art. That was sort of exciting, so he allowed himself to be a canvas, though he didn’t have much choice in the matter allowing the experience to be enjoyable seemed wise.
Eva rebuilding her own flesh into a tool to use on him was as per usual odd to watch but it had lost it’s effect on him so he was able to witness it with a detached ease. Her sticking her finger in his bellybutton however was not something he’d been prepared for and it elicited a small gasp just by the very nature of being wet could and mildly invasive.

Closing his eyes as she worked he let the tactile feel of it all wash over him. The wet sensations tickling his flesh as his master recreated him to her aesthetic was pleasurable. The warm breeze that came through the window kissing the wet ink leaving cool stripes dancing across his pale skin was fun. Without opening his eyes he listened and felt trying to see the patterns on him with his skin and ears rather than seeing them with his eyes. His master marked him with stripes and swirls and all sorts of shapes in between. When she ran out of space on his torso she moved to his arms and his neck and so forth coating all that which was him with her own fluids, his body already claimed in the form of an E on his breast now marked by his masters designs. In some way he found it mildly amusing if in a dark tone. He was not his own, his clothes were picked by her, his duties, and now even his flesh was hers to do with as she pleased. On some level it almost made him want to cry, he was losing himself to the whims of another, however he was also happy. He was wanted on some level, by another human being, that was good. So if giving up his body was the necessity to being desired, then It was was a price worth paying, scarred flesh like his was a niche market, to have it valued so was uniquely cathartic.

Only opening his eyes when the painting stopped and he felt ink drop on his bare toes did he see the… mess… that he’d become he was a technicolor canvas of hues that melded in way not necessarily pleasing to the eyes. Patterns that were thoughtlessly made his own mind had beatified what was being done to him but his eyes were not the liars his skin was. He did not see himself as being beautiful and the many hues that adorned him made him less so. It did not particularly horrify him but on some level he was disappointed. Maybe someday eva would become a painter worth note, maybe she wouldn’t he didn’t know, but it was not this day. A thin smile creeped across his lips as she shook his head ruefully unable to hold back the amusement he held for his new appearance. He felt like the centerpiece for some wild festival or something similarly garish. When Eva spoke again he simply nodded, the process of getting himself cleaned up pleased him, though the fact that it sounded like she was going to be doing this again worried him.

Leaving Hwyn frowned, he was a mess and remedying that was going to take a while. The amount of curios gazes he got as he made his way back to the slave quarters he didn’t have secrets from Eva, that did not however mean that he was happy for the rest of the staff seeing him half naked clothed in paint. Getting back to his small room he wondered what sorts of rumors were going to start flying around now, though it wasn’t something he knew would effect him overtly more likely it would be something his master would be pestered about. That said he couldn’t imagine her explaining herself or even caring if anyone thought less of her for it. In his opinion it was perhaps one of the least unhealthy things she’d done in a while. Removing his clothing slowly Hwyn strained to keep fabric and ink as separate as possible thankful for the ink drying. But once he was free from the blue cloth prison he looked at himself and the small mirror and snickered. He was now reversely clothed in pain as if he’d adorned some strangely lewd outfit meant to cover everything except that which should be covered. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts of such a fashion atrocity, he hoped he’d never wear anything of the sort.

Scrubbing the ink-like paint from his skin took long enough that he was glad that Eva had made there rendezvous so much later in the evening for it took half of that time to scrub his canvas clean. The process of purifying himself of the paint was calming being clean was refreshing and washing away his masters marks was nice, letting himself remember that he was still himself under the layers she’d laid on him. Though her mark on his chest was going to be decidedly much harder to remove, if it was at all possible to remove. Sighing Hwyn sat for a long time after he finally scrubbed himself clean looking at his bare self. His body was his, or at least he wore it, no matter what anyone did to it, no matter how many scars he would gather they were his scars, if they painted him it was still him, plus paint, right? Eva could do as she pleased make him into art, or into a monster, so long as at the end of his day he was still him under the layers.

Deciding against redressing Hwyn pondered what to wear for Eva’s next escapade; he did not trust her not to ruin his new outfit if the mood struck her. So instead he pulled on the tight black undergarment and black dress he’d bought in Ravok and nothing else. He could pull the dress off easy enough and black didn’t stain well anyway so it was decidedly safe. With that done he simply tied his hair back and padded towards the garden.

When he arrived he was pleased at the silence that had taken over the place. Looking toward the pale moonlight he smiled wanly, he liked the moon more than the sun, it was so much less aggressive, content to come in many forms and sometimes not even appear at all, it didn’t care about appearances always trying on new ones, unlike the garish sun that beat it’s way through the sky every day without mercy. Waiting on Eva Hwyn pulled the dress over his head and stood in a shaft of moonlight letting his lily white skin drink in the silver rays. He looked like a glowing shade that had wondered into the garden, the ephemeral look the light gave him smiled. Yes he definitely preferred night to day.

Waiting he decided he’d be like the moon, the moon was the moon whether it was full or a crescent or gone, it was always itself, and so was he.

[Evarista]

Pouring herself half a glass of wine, Evarista seated herself back in the armchair, staring at the sky with unfocused eyes and nibbling on the edge of the glass absent-mindedly. Images of Hwyn's vandalized skin floated through her mind, causing some lingering amusement. It was evident that she would have to dedicate some time to studying pigments if she wanted to have a decently broad palette of colors on hand. Finding objects to study would be easy. Everything around her had a color; all she had to do was to look for what exactly gave the object its color. With auristics, that was a simple matter. If she could do it with the ink, she could do it with anything. Still, it would take patience, which she didn't have. She'd probably have to abandon her ambitions of becoming a self-supplying artist... at least of the ordinary kind. Evarista didn't want to be the ordinary kind, however. She wasn't content with just mimicking her environment, and there was nothing interesting about being able to create something you could just as well buy at the shop nearby. Convenient - definitely, but nothing interesting. There was something she could do that a normal artist couldn't. That's what occupied her thoughts. As the hours passed the the sky outside turned grey, Evarista drank her wine drop by drop, occasionally changing position in the armchair to prevent her legs from falling asleep, but never rising to her feet. Holding the glass on her lap, she pulled out her prayer beads from her skirt pocket with her free hand and counted them slowly. Sliding down halfway in the armchair, she rested the back of her head on the pillow behind her and directed her eyes towards the slowly darkening vastness of the sky outside of the window. Thankfully, no one came to disturb her, and she sat largely immobile for many bells, with only the wine and the prayer beads to keep her company. She'd spend the rest of her life like this... if only she could. Had she been alone, she would continue sitting like that until she felt like flopping over onto the bed instead, and the day would be over. But she wasn't alone. As the grey air that flowed through the window became overtaken by the light of the moon, her thoughts wandered back to the boy. She rose from the chair and stretched carefully, every joint cracking from bells of inaction. The empty glass was left on the windowsill and the beads went back to her pocket. Turning her back to the window, she moved to leave. The silence in the room was so total that she could hear the well-oiled lock springs contract when she pushed the door handle. Wanting to maintain that silence a bit longer, she drifted through the estate like a ghost. Stepping out into the garden, she had to cover her eyes from the searing rays of the moon. Once her eyes adjusted and her hand lowered, she saw his form bathe in moonlight. Standing in the garden alone with his back to her, he seemed almost ethereal. She found her eyes drifting to the brand on his bare chest. Since it was usually covered by clothes, she generally didn't think about it, but the sight made images of that fateful evening float by her eyes again. Snapping out of the momentary daze, Evarista closed the distance and touched his shoulder lightly to get his attention. For a few moments, she simply stared down at him, thinking how different he looked from how she was used to seeing him. Then, without saying anything, she went to work. In the darkness, her index finger lit up with an unnatural glow, the newly created brush slowly soaking with bioluminescent unspun silk. Sitting down on the corner of the garden bench nearby, she pulled the boy close to her and rested the other hand on his shoulder, as if to prevent him from running away. Her ominously glowing fingertip slowly drew close to his chest, touching the corner of the branding scar ever so lightly. Without withdrawing, the brush slowly traced the first line upward, leaving a slightly recurved vertical line. She had to complete the picture without lifting the brush, or the monogram would be ruined. She also couldn't keep the brush in one place too long, as it'd leave stains. Thankfully, the scar was dark on his light skin in the faint moonlight. The glowing tip slid down diagonally, curving subtly again. It came to a halt briefly, before continuing upward in in the same calligraphic, slightly curved motion. Now completed, the brightly glowing letter N glared back at her intensely. As if hypnotized, Evarista held her breath for a moment, but forced herself to concentrate again. The brush had to continue moving. Changing direction, the traced the upper half-circle of the rounded E, overlapping with the N partly. Trying to repeat the movement as exactly as possible, she traced the second half-circle, and finally withdrew the brush from his skin. A burst of air escaped her lungs; she had held her breath all this time without realizing it. Wiping the droplets of fresh sweat from her forehead with her sleeve, she leaned back on the bench a bit and looked at his body, now adorned with a glowing symbol. It looked almost like a mystical seal. It was a mystical seal, in a way. The elaborate calligraphic details were all missing, but it was definitely her monogram, in its purest, simplest form. The girl lifted her gaze from the sign to Hwyn's face, looking at him with something dreamy in her eyes. Without averting her eyes, Evarista reached out towards his face and gently cupped his chin with her cold fingers. The glowing dot moved closer, touching the side of his forehead and dragging a line halfway along it towards the base of his nose, then mirroring the figure on the other side of his forehead. His face was now adorned with something that resembled a curly bracket, or owl's eyebrows; giving him a serious and concentrated demeanor. Making up the continuation as she went, Evarista painted a diagonal line on either of his cheeks. Together with the brackets, they very vaguely resembled large eye sockets. The was completed by extending the pointy end of the curly bracket down along his nose. He now looked less like an owl and more like an otherworldly being. Somehow, Evarista wasn't inclined towards total vandalism as she was in the afternoon. While she could smear him in glowing paint all over and probably make him scare some servants on his way back, that wasn't what she wanted. Just looking at him now, she understood that subtlety and simplicity was her way. There was only one thing left to add. Taking his wrist, she turned his palm to face upwards. The glowing brush lightly touched each of his fingertips and the tip of his thumb, leaving each of his digits with a small ghostly light at the end. She then repeated this with his other hand. Standing up from the bench, she turned him away from the moon,, watching shadow consume his skin completely and leaving only the light of the paint. He really did look like an otherworldly being, but somehow still recognizable. Once again, her eyes drifted from his face towards the seal on his chest. Evarista's tongue traced her dry lips. Opening her mouth, she began speaking very quietly, her icily cold hand resting on his shoulder. "You're..." Nothing else came. The pause drew on, and she only stood there like a monolith, staring down at the boy unblinkingly. She eventually felt the warmth of his flesh begin to seep into her fingers; the warmth of another's life intruding into her. Overcome by a sudden feeling of discomfort, she withdrew her hand from him and turned away. Another long pause made it seem like she was going to say something more, but her shoes eventually began shuffling towards the garden entrance. Although she didn't walk fast, it almost looked like she was running away. The last thing that could be seen was the faint wisp of her still-glowing fingertip dissolving in the darkness of the hallway.

[Hwyn]

Title and Date

She appeared as she always did, unannounced and morbidly silent. It was simply how she was, she didn’t talk unless she felt she needed to, this occasion then did not call for words. He was usually one for speech but in this moment, he agreed this was not a time for words. So he allowed he to do as was her want. He could hear each and evey one of her breaths, and in some cases the absence of them the silver light giving he already pallid skin an unnatural aura aided by the sheen of sweat her brow collected giving her a look of something inhuman. Perhaps it would have bothered him before but seeing her make her finger glow, and then use it to paint him was while unique not something he found unpleasant.
In some ways it made him a little happy. No such glowing color existed for any other paint or ink, it was in part a piece of Eva something unique to her, and she tagged him with it allowing him to share in her ethereal glow, marking him as someone as equally unnatural as herself. Her cool touch was heavy on his shoulder at times as she braced against him while she painted not allowing him to move and inch, while she held her breath to focus on painting he held his to focus on not moving at all and so his ears rang with the sound of his own pulse only interrupted by the strange wet noise her finger made as it danced across his flesh leaving its firefly trail.
He did not know how long she painted for, highlighting her claim to him on his chest, or marking his face with designs he could not see but felt, but eventually it came to an end. He could see it in her face lit by moonlight and his own now dull glow. She looked tired even as he cool hand finally left his cheek and he painting was done he looked at her. Her eyes weren’t like his, not in color, but, in how he felt they looked at things. They rarely held any intensity as if they were able to look at things but not see anything. Though on some rare occasions those eyes changed, they gained focus and blazed with a rare intensity, it didn’t often last long but for someone who spent most of his time in her presence he recognized and respected that look it made him happy to see her, happy, or… not happy but perhaps… passionate? Either way the look she was giving him now was neither of those things, it wasn’t something he was sure he liked either. She looked, Sad? Lost? Conflicted? He did not know what it was she was feeling but it was something he’d never seen her wear on her face before. The she spoke a single word. But it was heavy, the silence that followed had a weight. What was he? He’d asked himself such questions before with little luck he didn’t know if she had a better answer. But the pause transformed into silence. She then withdrew from him still giving him that sad disconcerting gaze.

Then she was gone.

“you’re…..”




“Alone” He finished.

Standing there for some time afterwards a monument to Nothingness he let the realization that neither he nor likely anyone had any idea of what he was or would be, or if he was anything at all. Perhaps if he understood what it was to be truly sad it would have crushed him. As it was the most familiar sensation he knew returned to him.

The all-consuming Numb.

Credit to Shimoje, the bestest buddy