Closed Multiple Ways to Dance (Melisande)

[Matthew]

1st of Spring, 515 AV.

When he had first arrived in Sunberth, Matthew had found himself at a bit of a loss. Where could he possibly begin? The former mining city was a filthy maze bursting at the seams with all sorts of questionable people. He had been one of those people only a few seasons ago. Perhaps he still was. A lot of the place was still the way he remembered, smells and sights all laced with this general feeling of tension that shivered in the air. There were still dozens of different styles of architecture, a wide variety of houses that ranged from small tents to large buildings of stone, and still quite a bit of noise. There were always people talking. Sometimes they were fighting, sometimes they were joking, sometimes they were threatening and sometimes they were despairing. How was he supposed to hunt down a single entity within this teeming mass of dirty flesh?

He had to focus and remember what it was that he had become when he was here last. To survive in Sunberth, all you had to become was a part of Sunberth. It was a beating heart that pumped people through it. He had to become part of the body.

Then he would need information. He needed a place to start. He needed someone that could work with him at some level. He didn't want to start with just anyone, for such an idea could very easily lead to bad things when it came to this city. No, he wanted someone unique, but everyone he had once known had left along with the Scars. There were others of course, others like Ruby and Brega. He didn't want to interact with them though, not yet. Who else was there, then? Matthew scanned through his mental archives, searching through stored information with blurred thoughts.

A single memory reared its head, causing Matthew to pause and blink. He hadn't seen her or thought of her in a very long time. Was it possible she was still here? He would find out.

~

The Harlot had first learned his Intelligence skills here within Sunberth, so it was appropriate that Sunberth was where he would once again put them to use. He visited the various taverns first, watching a few of the dancers on display while making conversation with the bar patrons about other talented dancers in the city. He remembered her drive to be a part of this world, one of swaying hips and muscled flesh growing slick from constant artistic motion. What she had wanted to do was more than a dance. It didn't take long for him to decide that she wouldn't be here. From what he could recall of the woman, this wasn't at all the sort of place that she would be. There was a certain amount of class she had demanded.

That narrowed down the options considerably. The Harlot moved on, delving deeper into the city and towards one of the few areas that could possibly be considered classy by Sunberth's standards. It was the Gated Community, a place that held businesses owned by both Brega and Ruby. It only took one visit to a local tavern within that specific area for Matthew to finally get the tidbit of information he was looking for. Apparently she had made an impression on the men who made it a habit to visit many dancers within the city. Apparently she had made enough of an impression to be hired at Ruby's. Apparently he was going back there after all.

~

It only took a bit more questioning before he was able to pinpoint the time at which she would most likely be performing. If his intelligence and investigation had led him down the correct path, Matthew would be found sitting directly in the middle of the parlor whenever it came time for her to perform. He had no idea if it was a solo performance or not. In all truth, it did not matter. He was here for a purpose. He was driven and felt there was little time to waste. She would notice him. He was also curious to see just how far her art had progressed. Her preferred style of dancing had been very different from most others.

His clothes were the first thing that made him stand out among the rest. The Harlot wore all black, fitted trousers and button up shirt hugging to every inch of his flesh in a way that just sometimes teased at the idea of defined muscle beneath. His hair was styled just a bit, though a few black locks fell just slightly in front of his eyes. His blue stare was intense and focused, immediately finding her if she appeared, immediately focusing on her and her alone. His gaze was also bold, unreserved with how it carefully explored every last inch of her. He appreciated her skill, not missing a single detail of her movement. Bright eyes demanded that she show more of her skill, just for him and his intense focus upon her alone. His demands could be practically felt in the air. Djed suddenly sparked through his veins, his skill in Hypnotism instinctively being used to push out subtle suggestions into the air around her.

Dance for me, Melisande.

He had to be sure that she saw him and remembered an old face. He would not be able to follow her if she vanished into the back of the building.

[Melisande]

It begins with a dance.

That was what they liked to see: the body’s natural sway to the tense rhythm of a song and the unfurling of shawls and dresses as they fell to the floor. Melisande had never desired anything more than to establish a sense of class and beauty to what prudish folks would consider nothing more than a striptease. There was no denying that she was a stripper, but one who’s limbs swayed and gestured too far too touch.

The night was a routine. She sat in front of her mirror in the rear corridor of the Sanctum, where a flurry of girls hurried in and out as they applied the last minute touches to their makeup and tightened up their bustiers and heeled shoes. Soon it would come time to go up on stage. She applied her blood red lip paste and stood, tossing a strand of long wavy hair over a shoulder to inspect her borrowed costume. The half-blood was fully clothed, unlike most of the other dancers, and the satin fabric was sewn with glimmering sequins that caught the light of the lanterns, showering them in a dazzle of colors. Never would she have been able to afford such a thing, but for this show, it would be appropriate, considering the ease of which each article of clothing was able to be removed.

A girl appeared in the doorway then. “Melisande, you’re on!”

She nodded with a knowing smile. “Alright, Jessa, thank you.”

With a last minute adjustment to her own heeled shoes, she donned her ivory mask and strode toward the stage, waiting on the sidelines until the appropriate song began. Slow, sensuous and rhythmic, it drifted over the audience as the candles swayed in the dim light. Melisande stepped toward the center, slow and methodical, assuring that every step rounded her hips to the tandem.

The music enveloped her, fueling her movements as she turned her back in a teasing manner to the audience, glancing enticingly over her shoulder. One gloved arm raised high, the other slid up the side of her dress and over the swell of her hip. The shawl she wore was grasped abruptly and slid off in a snap at a pause in the song, and she let it fall to the floor, shoving it aside with a push of her heel.

Every move she made was inviting as she channeled the persona of a tempting enchantress. Her amber gaze surveyed the audience just enough to gauge their reactions and encourage the direction of her performance. But it was a man’s gaze in particular that made her linger far more than usual.

I know that face.

Her blood red lips curled in a knowing smile, her eyes glinting beneath the mask from the remnants of suggestion. Her hands roamed the curves of her body, rising up the swell of her bosoms and up into her hair as the drums began their hypnotic rhythm. The top half of her dress was slowly unbuttoned from behind and she began to remove it slowly, inching it down with calculated precision until she tossed it nonchalantly toward the side of the stage.

Her eyes never left his. An electrified link had formed that she couldn’t break away from. She was never the prey, but in this instance, she was not the predator either.

Melisande stepped down from the stage, the lower half of her dress still cinched tightly around her waist. Even as she walked, under the heavy scrutiny of the audience, she had to remain poised, elegant and provocative. She stood before the blue eyed enchanter with a dangerous, enticing smile, and knelt, parting his legs with both hands. She moved between them, sliding her body against his as she rose until they were eye level. Her lips glided over his, leaving a phantom kiss in her wake until they rested near his ear.

“I am not the tamed,” She murmured in his ear. Her smile was cryptic, as she turned slowly, and offered her back to him, where the silver buttons glimmered under candlelight.

Common/Arumenic

[Matthew]

There was a rhythm and a flow, a force in the music that could hook into a body and make it move. Matthew only knew a few very basic concepts about dance, but this small bit of knowledge was enough to help him appreciate the display of skill that now moved before him. He didn't even have to look around to realize that the rest of the audience had focused all attention on her. Their combination of desire and admiration could practically be felt in the air around him, sparking on his tongue and causing him to briefly drag the pink muscle across his lower lip. His Auristics could sense simple things without any effort on his part. This particular taste reminded him of strawberries. The Harlot didn't let his mind linger on the auras that surrounded him, ignoring the lustful surges in the air as his intense blue eyes locked upon the dancer that was slyly working up the crowd. His own stare was perhaps the most invasive of all, but without a hungry smile curving his lips or a burning need flaring in his eye. No, he wasn't a mindless predator like the rest of them. There was calculation involved. There had to be time spent studying the land that was to be conquered.

First his stare caressed her back, tracing out each of the curves that lay there, openly soaking in the sight that she was offering to them. Next was the flesh of her throat, then down over her shoulder and past her stomach, carefully gliding over the swell of her rounded hip and down the length of her legs. Then his steady gaze simply traveled back up the valley of curves, committing the other side to memory as well. He made his appreciation visible. He also couldn't help but find himself interested in the application of her art. He had never learned to dance in this manner. It was still something he needed to do.

Ah, she had seen him. Up until now he hadn't been certain it was her, the mask hiding her features. The eyes had practically confirmed her identity, however. Amber hues had locked with his for a moment and then she had smiled, further confirming that this was indeed Melisande. The more clothing she teasingly peeled from her supple flesh, the more the crowd around him dissolved into something closer to animals. Matthew could practically feel the lustful fervor pulsing in the air around him, their hunger for her sharply amplified at the sight of her bare breasts and stomach. He distantly felt vague surprise at the fact that they did not reach for her when she began to step through them and towards the Harlot. It was good that they knew how Ruby demanded respect.

Then she knelt upon her knees, Matthew tilting his head down to maintain that focused eye contact, preferring the invisible link between them to the boiling aura of the crowd. Parting his legs and then sliding up him, soft curves and chiseled flesh easily able to feel the details in the other, Matthew felt a moment of confusion. When her red lips briefly moved over his own and she then whispered soft words into his ear , suddenly it all made sense. He could feel the jealousy surging through the crowd and then almost immediately feel how that jealousy somehow increased their near-desperation to simply touch her. The Harlot blinked, blue eyes lowering to her rear, dress framing the roundness of it and nearby candelight causing the buttons to glitter.

She was not the tamed?

His bright stare glittered as he slowly reached forward, voice so very soft that she would probably have to strain to hear it. "Tamed?" If she was looking over her shoulder at him, it would be hard to miss the way his eyes suddenly evolved. He was so very expressive with those light hues of his, face so reserved and controlled but unwavering stare speaking volumes. She wished to tease the crowd? She wished to make them feel envy? Would they be envious if he proved himself to be more of an animal than any of them, taking her and rutting her upon the floor without a second thought for all the eyes that would be watching? His eyes glanced up at her, the danger apparent. "Why tame what I can break beneath me?" The tone of his voice left no doubt that the Harlot was utterly confident in his ability to do just that.

Then the fire was gone from his stare as if it had merely been a warning of what it was that she seemingly found fun to play with. He switched gears smoothly, fingertips grazing along her hip, a fingernail bringing a brief touch of pain through her dress. Then the Harlot very slowly and patiently unbuttoned each and every one, making the demanding crowd wait. Now he was helping show her off, helping her make sure that her audience kept coming back for more.

He had once been a professional, after all. He understood the need to make sure the desire of the audience turned into addiction.

[Melisande]

It wasn’t lost on her the change that shadowed his eyes. It screamed of a danger that drew her like a moth to a flame. She was reminded of the Matthew she knew years ago, when they were students at the University. Fresh-faced and lacking any sort of intrinsic ferocity in his gaze… she half wondered what he’d experienced to cause such a change.

His words reaped their reward, leaving a trail of shivers down her spine. A guarded smile tugged at her lips as she mused this new transformation. Who is this Matthew, I wonder?

The way his tone left nothing to suggest he wasn’t merely jesting left an intrepid spark in her heart. Had she not longed to forge her own adventure? Isn’t that why she trekked here, to the city of thieves and brigands and all of its streets fraught with danger?

She didn’t deign to answer him, as his fingers worked to undo the buttons that held her skirt together. She moved her hips in a sultry rhythm to the music; from side to side, her hand entwined in her hair until she felt the glimmering fabric loosen around her waist. She held the two loose panels of fabric and stepped back up on stage, assuring that the audience had their justly paid for view of her form, as she slowly inched the dress down to her ankles, and deftly stepped out of it.

What was left was the thin strips of fabric which composed her underwear and left nothing to the imagination, and the long satin gloves she relieved herself of with her teeth, tossing it aside. As the music came to its climax, Melisande walked across the stage, bending her body to accentuate the curves of her legs and hips. She moved with the tandem, allowing the music to direct the gesture of her arms and the sway of her legs. She felt their eyes, like a veneer over her skin; an energy that thrummed in the room. As the music finally came to its end, Melisande bowed gracefully to their applause, lifting her gaze briefly to catch the eyes of the harlot.

And now you come to me.

The half-breed gathered the remnants of her clothes, and slowly sauntered off the stage, heading back toward the rear corridor where her normal garments hung on a rack. She refrained from dressing, however, as she knew that a well-paying patron would occasionally pay for her time in private, and in such a case, she donned her black-laced undergarments and stockings.

Here, she waited and her mind wandered. She recalled those blue eyes, brimming with an energy she’d never imagined he was capable of. Several years separated them, and what she knew then likely did not pertain to him now. But there was no coincidences in Sunberth, she learned. He was here for a reason, and she was intrigued to find out why.

[Matthew]

There was a subtle shift in the hue of his sharp stare. It was a minor one, a flicker deep within the blue. While he still looked very much like the seductive whore he had studied to be, his mind was now focusing on something else entirely. There was a lot he could learn from this. While it wasn't the appropriate time to actually attempt to mimic her actions, Matthew could still archive each and every little detail for further analysis later. While it might look like a a simple show, effective stripping was no easy task. It wasn't something that any random person could do. It took patience and tact, as well as a keen sense of seductive timing. Those key elements were what made all the difference between someone who simply removed their clothing and someone who performed a slow and sensuous undressing. Then that factor had to be combined with sexually suggestive movement that usually drew attention to key locations of the body. It was obvious that Melisande had gotten very good at a lot of these techniques. The fact that she wore more clothing than most normal dancers was a simple but effective trick. It actually just gave her more to peel off. It gave her more tools to arouse the audience with.

She had also learned to show off the strengths of her body. There were bends and little sways, making sure to use subtle motions to draw eyes to her hips and legs. He would simply have to take these concepts and apply them as if the roles were reversed. He would need to draw attention to his hips and crotch, attention to the definition of his stomach and broad shoulders. There was an additional element to the style of dance that Melisande performed, however. He couldn't put a finger on what it specifically was. Burlesque is what she had called it, if he remembered correctly.

The Harlot joined the others in their applause, navy gaze meeting her own and blinking as she turned and sauntered away. He had hoped she would come to him. Then again, that probably wouldn't be the safest option for her at the moment with how many of the audience still stared at her with hungry eyes. Humans had such a primal side to them. There were some aspects that seemed no different than your average wild animal.

Rising gracefully from his seat, Matthew fluidly made his way toward where the dressing rooms were located. He hadn't seen Ruby yet and preferred to keep it that way. A few of the girls immediately recognized the dark-haired man, offering him bright smiles and cheery hello's. They were familiar enough with him to happily allow access to the back once they found out he was just there to see a friend.

He appeared in the back hallway, focused stare quickly flicking up and down her lace-clad frame. Stockings were a good choice due to the length of her legs. The color stood out against the tone of her skin. Females had a lot more undergarments to choose from than men did. He should research that problem a little more one day.

"Hello, Melisande." He stood a short distance away, words soft and carefully pronounced, a polite smile tugging at his lush lips. He seemed much different from what she had seen out there in the audience. He was now much more of what she probably remembered. The stoic student, simple and thoughtful. "It is nice to see you again. You seem to be doing well. I would ask if you would like to go somewhere nice and catch up, but I don't recall there being many nice places in Sunberth. You may know of some, though? If not, we can certainly just talk here. If you would rather, I can wait until after your shift ends. I need your help in finding someone that is hopefully in Sunberth." The Harlot quickly got to the point, not the sort to dance delicately around a subject. The fact that he had been lucky enough to find his old classmate made him curious if something unlucky would occur in order to balance out the scales. Best not to waste time, then.

[Melisande]

Melisande paused in her brief attempt to line her lips in lipstick. Her amber gaze flicked toward her mirror, catching the reflection of her former colleague. She lowered her hand and turned in her seat. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he would be the one to saunter back here for a ‘meeting’ so to speak, but to step right into an arguably private area of the back corridor was something else. Her lips twisted in a smile.

“Hello, Matthew,” She returned the greeting, flipping her hair over one shoulder as he spoke. The stripper let out a tinkling laugh. “You’ve obviously sought me out for something mildly important, I hope,” she returned, with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Having you wait for me to be bent over a vanity somewhere is hardly appropriate.”

Melisande unfolded her legs and stood, grabbing her casual turquoise dress and heavy coat to don over her lingerie. Her clothes offered little in the way of protection out in the chaotic streets of Sunberth, but she doubted she’d draw the attention of pests with a man by her side.

“You’re right, however, there is hardly a classy establishment outside of the Gated Community,” She sighed dramatically. “If this is a matter of importance, we can go to my apartment,” She offered. With a send off to the other girls, Melisande led Matthew through the maze of tables and guests and out of the establishment. The walk back, at least, would prove to be far more interesting this time around. She wondered idly what made her so quick to come to the aid of one she had not seen for several years. Not once had she ever done so in her time at Sunberth. Here, one’s back was always guarded.

“Let me guess,” She said, as they approached the Sunset Quarters with its mass of buildings in varying states of disrepair. “Your damsel has been kidnapped by slavers. Mm, that’s always the usual story to tell, isn’t it?” Her blood red lips curled into a smirk as she led him through the winding alleys of housing district. For a specimen who valued class and regal beauty, the options in the Sunset Quarter left much to be desired, but she made do with what she had.

Upon arriving to her door, she slipped her key out of her pocket and turned the doorknob, allowing him to enter, before closing and locking it. The room was as elegant as a private dwelling could be in the anarchic city. What little light that filtered through the curtained windows was accented by candles. Melisande took off her coat and hung it on the rack and made a mental note to buy incense on the next shopping excursion. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said. “Or don’t. But I should hope your story proves intriguing for this little divergence.”

___________________________________________________

Common | Arumenic