Meeting with the Stranger for a Dance (Syndela)

[Rafaelle]

He could hear her but it was though she talked to him through a thick glass that made it hardly audible. Regardless, her question went unheeded. The vision was all too real to simply shrug off. The ghastly crooked teeth of the dog, akin much to those of a shark snapped back and forth. In fact, its countenance barely bore any resemblance to a normal dog. The vicious grimace made it look like a mask of a hellhound, a mix of a pitbull and some other muscular breed. And ridiculously bulky it was, with those muscles rippling underneath a tight layer of short fur and skin.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as it neared its 'prey', steadily prowling towards Rafaelle with its smouldering eyes filled with madness. It's howl was distorted like a choir of many ravenously hungering wolves.

Rafaelle began to crawl backwards on all fours much to Syndela's dismay, his attention stolen by the apparition. It was uncanny how these visions always made him believe they were real.

"There's a black hound behind you, can you not see?" He pointed at the empty void of the tunnel that opened up behind Syndela. Quickly, his shaking hand reached for the skinning knife, his only sharp object. It barely matched the length of the beast's claws. And it made the man gulp as it was getting closer and closer, now brushing past the dancer. It was after him, not her.

Not long after Rafaelle's back met a wall. Not like he was hoping to get much farther from a four-legged animal anyway. They just run too fast.

[Syndela]

Inappropriate was one word to be put to his strange mannerisms. Unable to tell if truth held in his tone or trickery Syndela could only scoff at. Her head veered in the direction of where he glared, seeing nothing but the dark empty corridor. The courtyard was also void of company except for herself and him. Maybe the occassional cricket or spider. Mind ticked akin to a clock as she wove pieces of information into the next, segments running along segments at a hurried pace to attempt and solve this puzzle.

Was he seeing a ghost?

" No, I do not see anything. " Silk ribbon lashed out in a whip like motion, cutting through the air with a frail sharpness at the very area he claimed to have spotted the large dog. Alvadas played tricks on the minds that dared and seeked but why did it choose to affect Rafaelle in this way? Syndela could hardly know better other than to assume.

Flicking her hand, the ribbon ceased it's cutting motion and spun back to her body in a magnificent arc, deciding to twirl itself around her hips. Though not sure if her attempt at snapping the spell worked or not, the Symenestra made sure to try get the human to see the truth in the illusion that haunted him. Flinging herself out, the white skin of the female broke through the apparation, twirling on her feet in successful circles with her toes to pinpoint to the ground below. Whether he was being silly or not, she decided to continue ahead...and if it failed, then the spoils of a small income would grace her pouch at the least.

[Rafaelle]

He watched as the ribbon cut through the image of the dog as though it had the sharpest edge. There was no blood or gore, however. The supposed wound turned into a black whirlpool and followed the dancer's motion for a while, leaving the dog's image bizarrely distorted, as if it was severely mutilated at one side though its black fur hung in the air, stopping at one point when Syndela completed her motion.

That was enough to slowly make the hellish vision dissolve into thin cold air of the night. He stared into nothingness where there existed something insubstantial with relief, albeit still shocked. The rogue pressed against the wall completely inanimate save for his eyes which strayed to the dancer once more. There might have been a flicker of recognition and appreciation somewhere deep in the vast grey of his orbs but he needed to take a deep breath to calm himself.

His slightly shaking hand hid the skinning knife in the pouch, and his fingers which cramped around the amulet through the shirt slowly let go. He searched his pockets for something to reward the woman with, perhaps another coin. She did play a great part in his 'rescue' once more.

Silently, he cursed at himself and his unstable mind for playing such tricks with him at such inconvenient times. It certainly marred the whole performance and whenever he would look back in retrospect, the grinning maws of the dog would peer at him ominously, overshadowing the performance. Such was the price for toying with supernatural powers.

The night was still long though and perhaps there was still hope in regaining his senses and deriving some pleasure after all. Rafaelle realized that to Syndela his behaviour would have seemed completely unacceptable or at the very least, inappropriate. He would have to somehow make up for it.

With a sheepish smile directed towards her, the disturbed mage finally murmured. "Well, that was unexpected... I thought that thing was going to eat me. But no worries, no worries. It's gone." He nodded to her as a sign to continue.

[Syndela]

Twirling and twisting and twirling and twisting until toes met nearest to feet. Silk flashed through the shadowy dark, ribbon folding and looping around the female's ribs even after she had stopped moving. The dance must go on although such distractions could ruin the mood, she did not care. With will power surpassing even her cunning, the Symenestra finally decided to grace the male with her body and hoped she could perhaps ground his mind.

Washing away all doubt and fear with a lean, her legs braced on ether side of the male's thighs. The otherworldly skin was like that of the moon above, pale and smooth, reflective and even in the low light, the subtle grey vein could be spotted under small patches of toned muscle.
She croutched, knees bending until she almost kneeled in his lap. Inner thighs brushed the outers of his pants and before too long, she arched backward. Fleeting was the moment though slowed by the weightlessness, she sommersaulted again, allowing a brief flash of her muscular inner thighs.

White skin met the ground as she phased away, pivoting her legs and rolling them under herself as suddenly the rythmn of the dance became more fast. Ribbon followed where her legs turned under herself, only suspended slightly in the air by the balance of one hand holding the stone. Feet kicked out and with an ankle loosening, she used the turning motion to pull herself to her feet, the ribbon rushing around her in quick circles.

Circulating in such rapid movements made the suit spin black lines through the air, weaving the fabric into time and motion so that her body was obscured by the quick flashes of line. With each spin, the motion slowed. Toes gripped the ground as she twisted on one foot, her arms gracefully extending like wings. Time stilled once more as the circuit of spinning came to stop, leaving the female frozen in posture to survey the complex decisions that may cross Rafaelle's face. With dark lips slightly parted, he could hear a faint pant issue into the air, supporting the fact the dance was very hard to perform but by no means wanting to finish and rest.

[Rafaelle]

Her strangely haunting and mesmerizing presence so close sent a wave of warmth throughout his body. Her ghostly touch, so fleeting yet soothing. It happened swiftly, leaving the man to wonder whether it was another illusion.

Another silver coin landed neatly at her feet that never stopped their motion, never idle. Slowly, he crept back to his place, that soft cushion left by her. Such gracious customer care, he thought, quietly chuckling to himself.

Inevitably, Rafaelle felt that he needed more than just the vicarious pleasure of watching her show the near impeccable assets of her body. In the dark, he could not tell whether it was a Symanestra, or a human. It was but a silhouette, an embodiment of a female. Not that races mattered to him anyway, as long as she had curves and a nice face, anything went.

It was hard to tell whether she was in a trance-like state, or did she remain vigilant even while performing. The man decided to take his chances either way. Another two coppers fell at her feet while he sat there, on the cushion, as he did before, trying to choose the right moment to creep up to her. The dancer spun too fast and rarely looked away for too long, however, so it was not an easy task. Those flashing red eyes were to say the least rather daunting as well.

As somebody who liked to take risks though, Rafaelle's decision was already made despite the momentary doubts that warned him not to. And so he commenced his maneuver. At first, instead of settling back in a more relaxed position, he leaned forth as though entirely absorbed in her performance. Which was partly true as well despite his ulterior motive. She could not have possibly predicted what he was planning at this point.

Suddenly, the whole idea struck him as childish... as were most of his endeavours when he was genuinely plagued with tedium. If he wanted to touch her, why would he hide his motive if she was going to discover it once contact had been made?

Silently, the rogue stood up and walked up to her with a fast gait. His instincts made blood rush through his head, telling him to stop immidiately, that this woman was dangerous. But he took no heed to that as though possessed by his own cravings and sense of mischief. His hand reached out to lightly glide over her warm hip, just above the buttocks.

[Syndela]

Traces of perispiration fell down bfore her scalpline like shimmering diamonds lost against the snow. Trickling down to her chin, the added heat of such exercise fuelled her to keep warm even with the torrent of chill that apprehended the area with force. Now full in the sky, the moon reflected it's light upon the courtyard in full, casting the female's glittering skin and suit into a ghostly yet entrancing image.

Rest was minimal in the daring and complex routine, having to spare only a few seconds or less to regain breath until the next move contorted her body to suggestion. Rafaelle rolled the coins out, and so forced her to step faster, more pronounced and jump higher and grander than ever before.
Giant leaps carried her across the courtyard, almost from one side to the other before turning and pouncing back. Between jumps did the ribbon cut and wove, congenial to that of a slithering serpent of the skies.

Feminine athletic limbs bent, spread, stretched beyond boundaries. Every muscle worked and pushed for it's worth, straining with the movements to bulge accordingly. Fingers tightenned around the ribbon as Syndela came to finish her leaps in the centre of the courtyard. Parting and spacing her feet with graceful steps, the Symenestra found herself to balance on the head of the crooked tap once more, seising her movements before she could topple off the other side.
There was no space for error. No time for mistakes. If this customer continued to pay then she would need to step up and further her routine. This was not the pinnacle, but would grant her at least a small rest to catch before Rafaelle could offer another coin.

Swinging her arm above her head did the slender and claw tipped digits release the prop. The handle of the ribbon threw into the air, causing the device to spin up into the air and circulate cascading ribbon on the celestial drape above.
bare feet touched the ground in a delicate fall, toes pointing away in opposite directions. Gravity brought the ribbon tumbling back to the earth, encouraging it's mistress to lean over and posture herself for it's catch.

However, the touch of the ribbon falling into her fingers was numbed, a much more dominant grasp catching her attention. White and black hair cascaded down her shoulder as Syndela shot a glance behind herself, catching Rafaelle touching her hip.
Scarlet fuses dazzled and fizzled in the low light, danger locked behind every trickle of emotion that perceived within their depths. Yet, instead of lashing out and meeting his hand with a strike of claw, a slap of palm or worse a bite of fang, the dancer smiled.

Fangs revealed themselves, offering Rafaelle a steady worry that those carnivorous features would pounce out and inject into his throat. Albeit, the dark lips buried the sinister vibe and greeted his touch with a flash of mercy. " Does desire surpass threat, young human? " Syndela asked of him in a lightly panted voice, the accentless tone drifting between the two alike the crashing waves washing over the shore at midnight.

[Rafaelle]

The white of her fangs glinted in the basking moonlight. The precarious endeavour could easily lead him to a great folly should he not tread carefully. The ghostly illumination cast by the moon made her pale skin look strangely attractive. She was a creature of the night, he could tell. The bluish lighting suited her. The idea of playing with fire only served to bolster his wans. She let him touch her now without severe repercussions, in fact the dancer flirted with him or so he thought. How far would she possibly let him go?

His hand slid across the skin that was confined in the tight suit to try and rest on her firm buttock. Her body emanated intense heat and he could feel sweat building up through the fabric. Her words were met with a playful smirk. Of course, his desires and spontaneity always preceded his sense of awareness. Sense of danger. Not to say that Rafaelle was a complete daredevil though, dedicated to ending his life in the most extreme ways, otherwise he would have been reduced to ashes many times already.

Against her, he brushed a coin. The metal felt icy cold. Soothing amidst the heat that she engulfed herself in. Rafaelle was gentle without any hints of roughness or impatience that he saw many drunken men possess. Drunken men who tried to seduce dancers and courtesans alike with their clumsy touches. He had learned from those mistakes, albeit that did not make the danger subside.

"I thought rewarding you with more than just coin would be... appropriate? A friendly touch, nothing more..." The rogue whispered to her, his stare burrowing into the ruby red orbs of hers.

[Syndela]

Strange, how his touch was not alike the others. Syndela was not a coy lover. She had her fair share of men of many races, most of them ending up as a victim to her hunger and becoming mere juice for the spider creature to slurp up. Others were more lucky and got away with a few scars, a few fangs marks scarred into an intimate section of their body or the strikes of claws down their backs where she had raked them during intercourse.
Unlike her siblings and kin, the curse that misplaced her womb made sure to not wield a child no matter how much 'bonding' occured. Thus, landing her in a tussled world of displacement, unable to catergorise herself as lucky or unlucky since the females of her race often died at birth - usually by their very own child eating them from the womb and out.

His fingers felt uncannily soft, even against the slightly sweat silk. So much so that it made the Symenestra pause, yearning to seek why his fingers felt so unlike the others of his species. Silk creased as her rump was fondled and held, the slightly sticky excretion of sweat pressing against Rafaelle's palm. The cold metal of the silver coin rolled down the side of her arm, cooling the heated pale skin underneath. Of course, the suit did not cover all of her body. Both arms and one leg were bare, but even so, the heat caught from the animation picked along every vein in her body and ultimately made the cool blooded female feel like a warm furnace.

His eyes, his touch - the calm solace in the fire. Syndela gazed back, locking her red irises within the twisting nether of his vacuous stare. " A friendly touch you say? " From the dark lips spoke these words, the fangs settling behind her tongue for now. There was no need to smile again.
The Symenestra swiped the tongue, curling it lightly to pat her lips. " Have you been satisifed with the dance, Rafaelle? It ends when you decide so."

[Rafaelle]

There was a certain tranquility and acceptance in the way she reacted to his touch. Perhaps a promise of things to come... or a very clever trap! Either way, Rafaelle was pleased with his and her efforts. Still, there was something distant and cold about the spiderwoman. Enough closeness for now, he decided, gingerly pulling his hand back, leaving her warm skin, pearled with droplets of perspiration, alone.

The rogue stepped away from her, his countenance still graced with a shadow of a smirk. "Dance some more for me then, dear. There is no telling when the mysterious forces of Alvadas will smile upon me once again with both, ample coin and luck to see you once again. Thus, I would like you to continue..."

He plundered his pockets once more in search of rewards for her. Coin was just too... dear. Next time he would have to think of a substitute for the shiny jink they both seemed to be so fond of. He flicked another silver coin her way and ensconced back onto the cushion. The metal mizas spilled about her feet glinted faintly in the dark, enhancing the whole picture even more so.

The moon was at its strongest now, and it cast its translucent beams down at them, illuminating just enough for him to discern the female body, the general features of her face and apparel. It was enough for now.

[Syndela]

The rivalry that conjoined the two together in their first meeting seemed to have fade over the progression of the current moment. This time, the odds were very much less imposing. Each having benefits in this sequence in events whilst the one that commenced two weeks ago demanded for each to agree to the consent of the other and force team work if they both wished to harvest the profits.

She silently agreed for the male to slither back to his cushion with a minor nod, her nostrils flaring briefly to catch his scent. All male pheromones indeed. Adamant as she was to finish the dance to his satisfaction, Syndela couldn't help but to feel that it grew colder the longer she stood idle. Palpable fog now clustered over the roof tops, linking and webbing between the terraces. As surreal as this city was, at night it changed completely. The vast wonders of the heavenly stars and moon above with mist and foggy web below. It all dazzled like delicate seams in the light. How much better it was being here than in the caverns of that dying city - Kalindor.

Behooved to complete the ritual, Syndela restarted. Warming up her slightly coldenned muscles, the Symenestra preferred to do faster and much shorter movements. Silk ribbon circled in a figure of eight before her, weaving it up and down and around itself alike a fish swimming through a pond. Or an eel, considering the length of the prop.
Once the figures had combusted enough heat within her body, Syndela tossed the ribbon into the air. Weightlessness followed her body, in-line with the silk as it circuited . Transcending to the sky, her fingers clasped around the handle, tumbling back toward the earth in perfect symmetry and harmony.

The dance continued into the cold night, flicks of movement coursating across the courtyard both far and near. Impeccable leaps of faith, dance, aerobatical jumps, body contortment at variable speeds forcing the female to work hard for her pay. Beads of sweat trickled over the cobblestones, weening her of whatever energy she possessed.

Red flicks of light wandered through the shadow, watching the human between glances and fractions of time. Wondering for just how long she could keep him locked within the trance of her work. Syndela felt content in giving this man what he yearned, and in return the vital currency to maintian her survival here. The thought of pleasing him enough pleased her in turn, a faint smile lifting her cheeks.