Want to Turn Back? Feel Free.

by **Melenna** on March 29th, 2013, 9:43 pm

How did the small creature manage to keep so much inside of him? Melpomene had opened her mouth only to hear one question after another, and for a moment it seemed as if the fellow couldn't stop. It made her smile and pulled her out from her visions of home—in fact, she almost blushed when the Pycon brought up procreation. Such was a natural mystery for an all female race, but like most things, Melpomene found her answers in the gods. So she pondered on old songs and tales for a moment, figuring that she should start at the beginning.

“Legend says that Avalis was once an otani, the wondrous music weavers and servants of Laviku. When She was raised to divinity, She gave herself to Laviku, and the first konti was born. It is said that the divine blood within us overwhelms that of other mortals, and that is why we bear only females who resemble only the mother. There is but one exception through great irony—the warrior race of akalaks are known to sire sons with us. Of course, that is only what I have heard, and I have no intention to experiment with every race under Mizahar's sun.” Melpomene sighed, already feeling like she had delved too deeply on the topic. Her grandmother had told her every detail of that when she was younger, and still she found the subject uncomfortable.

Why was the fellow even interested in such a thing to begin with? She couldn't imagine, but it sounded like he had already learned a few things about konti. In return, she felt she should ask just how much this outside world knew and why they would ever enslave so refined a people, but talk of her home was oddly reassuring. It somehow made her feel nearer to The White Isle. So she went on about another one of Delos' questions while searching for what might look like a bath house.

“I suppose our kind is simply healthier than most. Konti Island is ripe with herbs as well as Rak'keli's power, which grants healing. As far as documentation... you could say there is much and you could say that there isn't. Compared to other races, we are still somewhat young, and our methods are not the same. Almost every sculpture, every painting, every song has a deeper meaning to us—it captures a moment in time important to its creator and that exposition exists in their mind and those the artist shares it with. But there are still books and records in Kontinese, histories and such one would likely encounter in the Opal Temple. I hear journal keeping is growing more popular, too.” Melpomene shrugged, stopping suddenly when she found herself in front of a large building with misted windows.

by **Delos** on March 30th, 2013, 3:35 pm

Delos was already dedicating every word Melpomene spoke to memory, it was official the White Isle would definitely be his next destination after his research here is concluded. Not only did it sound beautiful but it was a well spring of new knowledge. The art sounded particularly enticing, oh yes the homeland of the Konti was a must see for him now.

The Pycon rarely got so excited about something, but already he could see the words of texts he had yet to read. The only down side would be that he had no knowledge of Kontiese, but that could easily be rectified. Such was his excitement that he almost forgot where he was for a moment, coming back to reality when Melpomene stopped in front of the bath house.

It certainly looked like the place, then again Delos had no need to bathe so it was not like he came here often. This would be the first stop of the day, after this it would probably be a good idea to get her some better clothes and to get any wounds checked out. It would be extremely bad if she got an infection and died.

"This is the place, lets head inside and get you cleaned up." Delos said, calmly.

by **Melenna** on March 31st, 2013, 4:32 am

“Ah, yes. Yes, that sounds wonderful.” Melpomene shuddered in delight, finding the door with little trouble and stepping inside. It was a moderately furnished establishment with wooden floors and walls—all damp and all clean. Most of the windows were lightly veiled with thin linen sheets, and a few of the workers were rushing here and there with fluffy towels or fresh bars of soap. Melpomene smiled as she took at all in, the scales on her skin tingling with pleasure from all of the warm moisture.

It was a quick formality to gain entrance into the public bath, consisting of a brief conversation with the receptionist (who gave her more than one odd look) and the breaking of one gold miza. She was handed several silver ones in return along with a dry towel and bar of lavender soap before being guided to the changing room. The Konti was so excited to slip out of her clothes that she neglected to think of Delos, who would remain on her shoulder unless he opted to slip off.

“Oh, I don't even remember what fresh water feels like! It's going to be incredible—doesn't this soap smell nice? Lavender is such a wonderful herb, sweet and almost smelling of citrus.” Melpomene had already untied the straps about her neck and was in the process of slipping her chemise off.

by **Delos** on April 2nd, 2013, 5:41 pm

Delos was rather surprised with the eagerness that Melpomene had set inside the changing room, she had probably been wanting this for sometime. Her excitement was practically palpable which was nice, hopefully this would help her recover from her trauma from last night. Unfortunately for the scholar she had been so wrapped up in getting undressed that she seemed to have forgotten about him.

Delos was not a creature easily unhinged, he had been a regular to the Black Hole and had witnessed very cruel interrogation methods employed by his employer. However the sight that was playing out now was enough to give him flashbacks to that terrible night at a brothel. If the clay man had a heart it probably would have burst from his chest as most of his thought processes came grinding to a halt.

Delos recovered quickly enough, clutching Melpomene's hair for dear life. The fall from her shoulder wouldn't have done any permanent damage but at the moment the scholar was not thinking rationally. He was mesmerize by the sight of her dress falling to the floor, which was more than enough to really break him.

"Melpomene, I, you- gods! Help me down!" The scholar practically begged, his tone frantic.

In a rational mindset Delos would probably recognize the stupidity he was displaying here. Unfortunately rationality was thrown out the window the minute the Konti's dress had hit the floor.

by **Melenna** on April 3rd, 2013, 1:50 am

Melpomene's hands froze on the lip of her bodice, and despite the poor pycon's desperation, she could only smile. There was only the slightest pull on her hair as Delos pleaded for her to let him down, which she did with a sheepish laugh. She offered him her hand to step on, then lowering it towards a long bench at her side. The room was small, slightly damp, and quiet, with the only other furnishings being oil lamps and shelves.

“I'm sorry—I didn't mean to forget you.” And yet the konti simply continued to undress, creating another circle of silk around her feet as she pulled her chemise off. Oddly enough, she saw nothing strange in shedding clothing, as her people were a semi-aquatic one and often switched between land and water. She wasn't, however, naked—as far as she knew, konti didn't just go streaking about the underwater parts of Mura—sporting a light linen watersuit instead of other undergarments. It provided the support a woman needed without the restrictions of a corset, sporting thin leather straps around the neck and ties across the back. That naturally left the legs, shoulders, and arms bare, but her chest and stomach were covered, as well as the other necessary parts.

More skin showing, however, wasn't particularly appealing for the creature. She was covered in dirt, sweat, and other unpleasant things, which marred the vine-like patterns of her scales, and a hideous green-purple splotch sprawled across her back and right shoulder—the reminder of her fall the night before. Her skin was also raw around the wrists and ankles where she had been bound, and there were scratches on her neck and shoulders where she had been grabbed from time to time. She couldn't help but sigh as she looked down at herself.

“Are you afraid of water?” Melpomene bent down to retrieve her towel and bar of soap, only mildly aware of how severe the undressing of a woman could be on such a gentleman. It took her a moment to realize that he likely had suspected that she would shed everything, and the thought made her laugh. “I think I'll keep this on while I bathe—it needs to be cleaned, too.”

by **Melenna** on April 15th, 2013, 3:47 pm

OoC Note: Due to Delos retiring, I'm double posting to get some closure for the thread

Melpomene decided that it would be best to take care of her washing alone, but the least she could do was show the Pycon out of the dressing room in case more women showed up to change. She carefully set him just outside the door, then turning back to find herself a decent bath. The feature she'd paid for was thankfully a private room, which was already prepared for her when she made her way in. A large circular bath had been carved into the floor and plated with light green ceramics,and rugs had been placed all around them to reduce the slipperiness of the wood. There were even racks for towels and curtained windows, and overwhelming it all was a moist scent of lavender.

It took all the self control the Konti had not to run and dive headfirst into the shallow pool. Her heart had taken on a quick beat, warming her skin before it ever touched the water. When her body finally slid into the sudsy bath, she very nearly cooed. Instead of starting to scrub and get the bath over with, she lightly paddled around while floating on her stomach, occasionally flipping on her back just to feel her hair lightly twist in the water. The water was never deep enough to submerge herself while standing, but the buoyancy was there all the same, as well as a slight current that made a circular pattern of bubbles.

When Melpomene managed to reign herself in, she started with the scrubbing of her hair. She didn't spend much time thinking about what was in it, simply going at her scalp with her fingertips until the wet strands were wet and smooth. She then went through the very long process of wiping the grit out of every crevice her scales provided, laying them flat and making them lie like perfect glass on her skin. Melpomene likely would have gone on for at least an hour more as she worked on her nails and the delicate skin between her toes and fingers, but the presence of a song interrupted her blissful cleaning. There was a deep sound, steady and pulsing, another tune that closely followed it, and then something lighter and more reluctant, halting here and there as it came closer.

Then there were male voices. Melpomene froze suddenly, thinking it strange and wondering if she had misinterpreted the sounds, but they were there, only slightly muted by the wooden walls. She clutched her soap as they came closer, heavy boots and the metallic rub of chainmail accenting their approach. Could it be? But it couldn't! The bath house wasn't far from the slave enclave (as it hadn't seemed far from Delos' residence), but the Pycon had predicted that only a few guards might be searching for her. Had someone seen them on the streets and sold them out?

No, no! That can't be true! Melpomene cringed when the feet came to a stop near her door, suddenly pulling herself down into the water. She wouldn't be entirely hidden by the murky water, but she wouldn't be able to breath long in the heavy stuff, either. With her ears cushioned by the thick liquid, she could no longer hear anything from the outside world, but the songs were still present in her inner ear. A minute went by and she felt a sudden jerk in all three songs—surprise followed by the sound of a bell. Her head tilted up towards the wooden ceiling, and there she saw the dark and distorted face of a man.

Hands came down, quick and cruelly breaking the water, but Melpomene was faster. Her body bent forwards over her knees, feet flat against the bath's rim as she gave a strong kick. The man's fingers barely brushed her calf as she surfaced, and her feet touched back against the floor, this time in the center of the bath. With her hair flat and dripping streams across her face, she was able to get a better look at the men; two were dressed in light armor dyed black, and the third between them was a slightly abashed young woman in a brown robe that was one of the bath house's uniforms.

“Hey, you! You're that escaped Konti. Give me your hand and this doesn't have to be messy.” The man nearest to the bath's edge growled and held out his gloved fingers, a stern glare on his face.

“I'm... I'm no such thing!” Melpomene's lie shook even as it slipped from her lips.

“Yeah? What's that mark on your hand, then? Who's your master?”

Here, Melpomene hesitated, though she immediately slipped her hand back into the water at her side. Part of her told her to mention Delos, who had promised to do smooth talking to get them both out of trouble, but it seemed unlikely that he could convince anyone to let them go if she was recognized. Her jaw snapped shut and she waded further back, her tenuous voice almost shrill. “I don't have a master!”

“She's going to play that game?” The other guard sighed, beginning to make his way to the other side of the tub. “Look, we don't want to hurt you, just come along.”

“Please, do what they say.” The young woman present wrung her hands, looking back into the hall behind her. “We really don't need a scene.”

There was no point in denying it further, but the Konti wasn't just about to walk back to the man who just might skin her. “I can't—you don't understand, you don't know what they'll do to me.”

“I know what I'll have to do.” The guard who had made his way behind her lashed out with a hand, and before she could spring away again, his fingers wrapped around the leather strings at her suit's back. She was jerked against the side of the tub and fished out, then dragged to her knees as the others came for her. There was no fight in her as her hand was taken and examined, to which one of the guards sighed.

“Slavers really are getting lax if a creature like this can get away. Let's deliver her back and get the reward.”

by **Cataclysm** on April 20th, 2013, 6:33 am

Delos :

Melpomene :

Great thread. Genuine emotion I can followed backed by vivid imagery reinforced at each turn. Simply a wonderful read. Ravok isn't as bad as it seems if it can provide such heartfelt writing. Though it stalled out a bit near the end it was a pleasure to read your first IC thread.

Make sure not to mention imps, fairies or other fantasy staples! We are trying to provide a fresh new environment. Though it is a common mistake we all do think of this as a gentle reminder.

Marks on your hand from the hidden barbs on the fence and the early treatment from the slavers. The marks from the barbs are superficial enough and should recede into slight impressions. Your hands will have a pretty obvious mark to show. Wear it with pride.

Safety comes in the oddest forms

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.

Completed Want to Turn Back? Feel Free.