Nicora could hear the music from the doorstep. The address on the card turns out to be a townhouse in a well-to-do neighborhood. From beyond the stained-glass of the door, the sounds of a piano are quite clear to the Eeee's sensitive ears. There's a bell-pull next to the ornate door and light beyond it, but the curtains are closed on the bay windows that face the street.
The evening has been rather strange for Nicora. Most of the day was spent being reshaped by Melusine because she was bored. The memories of that still cause her to shiver now and then. Afterward was a visit to Lilith where she got the address card. Before she left, though, she went home and spent some time on her appearance again (even though it was already elegant, she just had to do more). A full bath along with an 'internal bathing technique' she learned at the spa to reduce how much she still smells of blood, a bit of packing, then dressing again in a flowing gown and bits of jewelry, and she went back out. Perhaps all of it was a delay to actually going to the address. It's funny how Nicora is less afraid of facing a monster than she is of facing and accepting her current condition. She shifts her smallish night bag from one hand to the other, then approaches the door. She reaches up and delicately takes the small door knocker in her hand. With a few flicks of her wrist, it wraps l
With a few flicks of her wrist, it wraps loudly on the frame of the stained glass door.
There is no pause in the music, but a shadow blocks some of the light coming through the door. It then opens, and a Doberman Gallah in butler livery looks down his long nose at Nicora. "Do you have a card?" he asks, with a slight Chronotopian accent.
Nicora reaches back into her a and draws out the card. She presents it to the butler between two of her fingers. "I do," she answers in a quiet voice (perhaps to hide the fact she's nervous about even being here). "I am a friend of Lilith Draco."
The butler hands it back after a brief inspection, and then stands aside while holding open the door. "Please come in then, my lady."
Nicora tucks the card back into her bag and steps through the doorway, her hips rolling lightly as she does so. With how her feet click on the floor, it betrays that Nicora is wearing 'dress shoes' designed for Eeee ladies; similar to a human's high-heel, but shorter in the instep and heel. "Thank you," she tells the butler.
Once inside, Nicora finds the home well lit, and decorated in Olympian style with comfortable furniture and tasteful decorations. The music is much clearer now, coming from an adjacent room. A half-opened set of double doors reveals the edge of a piano. "You may wait in the conservatory until the master is ready for you, if you wish," the butler says, indicating the room with the piano. He then offers to take Nicora's bag.
Nicora offers over her bag. It's surprisingly light; so likely nothing more than some clothing and other small items. "Thank you again, sir," she says. Her head tilts towards the music and there she listens for a few seconds. There's a slight nod from Nicora, followed with a curtsy to the butler as she saying, "I will do so." Nicora then turns away and heads for the conservatory.
The conservatory is probably the largest room on the first floor. It needs to be, to hold the piano and several seats for the audience, along with space for a small orchestra – the instruments for which are already in place, held by custom stands. Playing the piano is Galand, a white Lapi with black ear tips, and the ghost of a scar across the bridge of his nose. He wears a fancy smoking robe, similar to what Dr. Twig wore, but without the fez thankfully. The brocading looks more Olympian than Sylvanian. The buck is also fairly tall, unless it's just an illusion from the piano bench being raised. He plays with his eyes closed, but his ears bob and sway as if directing the rest of the absent quartet.
Nicora walks quietly as she can so as not to disturb the Lapi playing by circling wide in the room. She's heading for the quartet stands, her head tilted a bit as she tries to see what instruments are available.
There are stringed instruments, including a bass and a violin, but very expensive looking. There are also winds, such as an ornate flute (with metal valves), a bassoon and something that is likely a clarinet. There doesn't seem to be any percussion instruments, beyond a set of glass triangles and strange stringed instrument that could be a hammer dulcimer. A large harp finishes the collection.
Without uttering a word, Nicora goes to the seat before the flute, brushing her gown to the side as she its. It is something at least similar to an instrument she knows very well, so has a passing chance to play it. She picks it up gently, as if it were glass and takes a moment to familiarize herself with the finger positions and how the valves operate. She's only seen these a few times; when traveling through the larger towns; and being well, poor, could never afford one. Still … Nicora hopes that Galand won't be offended if she joins him … and so raises the flute to her lips, closes her eyes, and there listens to the song for a bit; its pacing and its tone. When a meter seems to begin its repeat, the Eeee joins in with a gentle blow of her breath across the flute opening. Her fingers lift and glide over the valves, actuating each to produce a following tone to Galand's piano; accentuating its powerful notes with the gentleness the smaller wind instruments are known for.
One of the Lapi's ears swivels to focus on Nicora, and a smile plays across his lips as he changes the tempo slightly, to see if the Eeee can catch it and keep up.
'Band battles' were not uncommon back in the tribe as each member would try to outplay the other … and so Nicora accepts the challenge, shifting her tempo to match his this time. She's deliberately playing as a trailing instrument so that she can adapt to his changes. If nothing else, this is relaxing, something Nicora is familiar with, and perhaps something she misses. She doesn't often get time to play any more.
The duet continues, with the piece subtly changing to work better with the instruments involved, until it finally ends and Galand turns to face his guest. "To whom do I have the pleasure of playing with?" he asks. His voice is surprisingly deep and resonant, like someone trained in opera. Nicora can also get a better look at his face, and judge his age to be somewhere in the late thirties, or possibly into the well-preserved forties.
Nicora lowers the flute and suddenly feels very embarrassed for a reason she can't quite explain. "My name is Nicora," she finally answers the Lapi, "I am a friend of Lilith Draco's. I hope you do not mind me using your instrument; I have been careful with it."
"You handle it well, which suggests to me that you aren't here looking for lessons," Galand says with a smirk. "Unless you wish to expand your repertoire to other instruments?"
"I am here to meet you," Nicora answers quite truthfully. "Two friends of mine have mentioned spending time with you while someone dear to them is on a long trip. I am protective of my friends; so I decided I would meet you first."
Turning to sit on the edge of the piano bench facing Nicora, Galand asks, "Ah, is this about scheduling private recitals?"
"Companionship," Nicora answers with a single word. "What they would ask of you is known to them and not my place to speak of," she says kindly, "It would not be polite or proper."
"Ah, I suspect that you were sent here by a certain former student of mine," Galand says with a grin… and a hearty chuckle. "How is little Lily? Still getting into trouble on a professional basis?"
"She has managed to remain trouble-free since her return from her time with a dragon in the southern county," Nicora explains as she folds her hands in her lap. "But … I am sure she will find some new difficulty to amuse herself with. She would not be true to herself if she stayed safe."
"Ah, so you do know her," Galand notes, and pats his knee. "Could you come over here, so I can get a look at you?"
"I know her quite well," Nicora confirms as she stands and walks over to the Lapi. She can't help feeling oddly terrified of this man; but why she can't quite identify. She looks down at his knee as if it were a monster waiting to devour her whole, or worse. Somehow she manages to find enough courage to gently lift her dress so that she can settle down on his knee while remaining proper in her chosen attire.
Gently, Galand feels Nicora's face. Since Lapi fingers lack pads, there's nothing but fur-on-fur, making it very soft. "You have some noble features," he comments, nose and whiskers twitching. "I feel some of Lilith in you, are you also of the Draco family?"
Nicora keeps her eyes closed as the Lapi traces over her features. "A distant relative," Nicora answers, which is true enough given the separation between the Countess' line and Lilith's.
"Vampire?" the Lapi asks, since he's not about to intrude upon Nicora's teeth with his fingers. This close, his voice almost resonates in her chest.
"Yes, I am, but do not worry, I will not bite you," Nicora offers, her voice remaining gentle.
Withdrawing his hands, Galand smiles (but still hasn't opened his eyes) and asks, "Well then, Nicora, what do you want to know from me in order to judge me a worthy companion or not for your friends?"
"Tell me about yourself, please?" Nicora asks, remaining seated where she is "You are a superb musician and well educated, but aside from that I know little about you."
"Before that, we should adjourn to a more comfortable venue, as my knee is probably not the best seat in the house," Galand notes. "And I hardly ever get to use my sitting room."
"You do yourself discredit, sir. Your knee is fine," Nicora says as she stands up and smooths out her dress.
Galand stands, showing that he is taller than Nicora, and offers his elbow to her.
Nicora slides her arm behind his and rests her palm lightly on his forearm. She says nothing, instead looking to him to guide them to the next room.
The buck walks confidently, aware of Nicora so that he doesn't accidentally guide her into an instrument or chair, and leads her to the original room she entered through, where he brings her to a loveseat. The butler is there, standing silently near the hall entry, and Galand either senses him or assumes he's there, as he asks for him (his name is Bertrand, it appears) to bring some tea.
Nicora gently slips her arm from his, brushes her dress to the side a bit, then settles herself down onto the loveseat. "Are you from Olympia?" she asks once comfortable, "Your manner and style implies you were not born in these lands."
Settling in next to the bat, Galand says, "I was raised in Olympia after my accident, yes. But originally I am from Dianus in Amazonia. My family belonged to one of the fishing clans, and my childhood was spent on the Lake of Langour."
"I have heard of those lands," Nicora notes as she switches to Khattan briefly, "As I have traveled some in my life." Her speak returns to Sylvanian as she adds, "But I have never visited Amazonia or Olympia; I only know them through stories. Then it was in Amazonia where you lost your sight."
"On the water, during a sudden squall," Galand explains. "I was on deck, working to secure the sail, when a cable broke free and lashed me across my face," he explains, and raises a finger to draw a line across his head, from several inches past his left eye, across it and his nose and past the right for another several inches. "It also knocked me off of the boat. But I was only eight years old, and light, so I floated and was carried to the shores of Olympia, where I was found and made a slave in Elysium. It was there I learned music."
"May I?" Nicora asks as she reaches up, her hand hovering just in front of the Lapi's face.
"Feel free; turnabout is fair play, after all," Galand says.
Nicora's touch is light, though she does have claws which trace along with her fingertips over the scar. "I imagine many people have … offered you pity for your injuries," she says softly, "But those are people who do not understand there is more in life than can be seen with your eyes. There is so much to the world that exists only in sound."
Beneath the fur, Nicora can trace the ancient scar. It must have been deep, since the scar tissue is all that's present in the bridge of the nose, hinting that some of the bone was sheared away. The eyelids seem fine, at least. "Pity? Ah, you have not been to Olympia. I was a devil, you see. My being blind is what saved me, for it made my owners feel safe around me," Galand explains.
"You are no devil," Nicora says as she cups Galand's cheek briefly with her hand before she draws it back, "That much is evident. The world is full of those who would label one person or another a 'devil' for whatever reason they choose."
"But not here, in this demon-haunted land of milk and honey," Galand says with a grin. "I came here via an odd route: I was bought by a Chevalier, as a wedding present for his bride, who liked my playing. And, while the Chevalier was away… other things. She was my teacher in a different sort of skillset, but one which proved very useful: spying."
"And during that time you also met Lilith's parents?" Nicora offers to Galand.
"Our paths had occasion to cross," Galand admits. "Primarily because my mistress was using me to eavesdrop on her courtly competition, while playing for them. And she needed to pass this data to where it would hurt that competition the most: Draco County. So I became her traveling companion, to rendezvous in Abu Dhabi, Rephidim and other places where the upper class might mingle without too much animosity. And it was on these occasions that I met with the Dracos."
"How is it that you came here? Did you escape your Mistress? Were you bought by the Dracos? Was it something different?" Nicora asks as she folds her hands back into her lap.
"Well, the game of court intrigue is played by all parties, Miss Nicora," Galand notes as Bertrand returns with a fancy porcelain tea service. "My Mistress was not the best player, and when it became clear that someone was leaking information… well, I never saw the assassin, which is probably why I was left alone. The Dracos kindly bailed me out of jail, and here I am."
"I have been fortunate to have been spared the scrutiny of the court," Nicora admits, "But such is also not surprising given that I am … for lack of a better term, a mutant." Her attention now briefly shifts to the butler who brought the service.
"How do you take your tea, Madam?" Bertrand asks formally. There is a wide array of additives, from flowers to different kinds of sugars, lemons, oranges… and multiple types of cream, it seems.
"A dab of sugar and orange, please," Nicora tells Bertrand.
The butler prepares two cups in silence, and places one saucer with a distinct clink on the table before his master. After the tea is served, he bows and backs out of the room, but is presumably within calling distance.
Galand picks up his cup without having to grope, and has a sip. "Mutations are so common on the surface as to be the norm, I imagine," he says.
Nicora reaches down and picks up her cup and saucer. The saucer she holds in her left hand while the cup she lifts with two fingers of her right and takes a small sip. "They still do not make everyone comfortable to be around," she notes, "But it is not important."
"There is nothing that I sense about you to cause discomfort, my lady," Galand insists. "You have an innocent face, and a youthfulness few your age can maintain."
"Dear sir, did you just call me old?" Nicora asks and taps her claw tip lightly against her tea cup.
"I merely commented that you are younger than you seem, dear lady," Galand notes. "Although with maturity comes experience and a certain sense of… self confidence. Your heart seems uncertain."
"Ah. Well, times have been difficult for me as of late," Nicora says just before the takes another sip from her cup. "I have had to re-evaluate much in my life."
"So, you've had a major change that you are still getting used to?" Galand asks. "And yet you go out of your way to see to the comfort of your friends."
"Yes, I have had a major change I am dealing with," Nicora agrees, "But that does not mean I will not seek to help friends and family. I consider them more important than the … circumstances fate has left me with."
"And just what are these circumstances that have you so wound up inside?" Galand asks, with that soothing voice.
"Private matters which I will not discuss. Please forgive me," Nicora says. She focuses herself now on just drinking her tea.
"Does it have to do with your right hand?" Galand asks after sipping his own tea. "It sounds different when you move, as if you are wearing a brace or cast."
"An injury," Nicora notes, trying to not sound surprised that he could hear her right hand. "If you are curious, I will … show you, so to speak," she offers.
"If it will put you at ease, for I am curious," Galand says, and even opens his eyes! They're like blue marbles, full of sparkles, with no pretense of trying to look like real eyes. They must also have some kind of reflective backing, as they pick up the light.
Nicora reaches over and lightly takes up Galand's right hand in her left. She reaches out with her right hand, placing it upon his knee, then gently lowers his palm down until it rests upon the flayed-looking mesh of shadow skin and skeletal framework. "There are still many ancient magicks lurking in our land," she explains, "And I am unfortunate to have been touched by one." There's little way for her to stop him from feeling the shadow squirm, should it choose to do so. "It cannot be undone; not without losing my arm."
"What color is it?" Galand asks, his eyes full of stars, as he strokes and traces with is fingers. Now that there's some sensation being felt by the shadow-arm… it almost tickles.
"Pools of black amongst silver and white," Nicora explains, "It is the hand of a monster."
"It sounds like the Procession, crystallized into a glove," Galand notes, and lifts Nicora's right hand to feel around it more, resting the palm on his shoulder so he can use both hands.
"You are kind in describing it such. Given my … family relation, many would be quick to label me a monster or a demon," Nicora admits as she looks down into her teacup. Unfortunately as the Lapi explores, the shadow tries to explore back, by sticking to his fingers and pulling up a bit when he lifts them, only to release and settle back into its place between the supports.
"It is very playful," Galand notes with a laugh. "Is that your nature, coming through?" he asks, and then takes the hand again, holds it formally, and kisses the knuckles.
"Perhaps once, before everything changed," Nicora admits. The kiss surprises her, her head lifting up to watch him curiously. Before she can stop it, the shadow has reached with a few tendrils … which now explore Galand's nose and blunted muzzle.
"It seems to like me," Galand comments. "And feels things like I do as well. And I am no monster, am I?"
"You are a charming and handsome gentleman," Nicora says, "And it … reacts to how I am feeling."
"And does this mean you want to run your fingers through my fur?" Galand asks, and arches an eyebrow. "I'm told it is very soft, and thicker than that of the local breeds."
"It would not be proper for me to do so," Nicora says as she draws her right hand back.
"Really?" Galand asks, surprised. "Because of your hand?"
"Because you are a gentleman," Nicora answers and folds her hands back into her lap, "You are not just someone to be … enjoyed in physical ways. I feel that it would be a discredit to you if I treated you that way."
"Ah, most thoughtful," the buck says, sipping his tea again. "You'll have to tell me if you're blushing though right now."
"My skin is black, it is hard for me to blush," Nicora admits as she finds herself having trouble even looking at Galand.
"I suppose you'd feel it though," Galand remarks. "Why don't you tell me what your friends will be looking for from me, should you choose me."
"Comfort and companionship. Someone to share intimate moments with to keep from feeling lonely," Nicora explains, "And someone to talk to." And seemingly deciding something she reaches over and takes one of his hands again, then lifts it to her ears so that he may feel them. They are warm; a hint at blushing, perhaps.
"Ah, someone to cuddle with, talk to, share meals and have rub their feet?" Galand asks with a smile.
"All those, and make love to at times I imagine," Nicora adds.
"Oh… so I will be filling in for someone very close to them," Galand notes. "And this someone will be returning, yes? This is not merely to comfort in place of grieving?"
"I would be lying if there was not a risk he may not return," Nicora admits, "The journey, from what I know if it, is very dangerous."
"And will you be one of my clients?" Galand asks, somehow managing a side-long glance without pupils in his 'eyes'.
"Truthfully? I do not know," Nicora admits. "Why do you ask?" It's her turn to put him on the spot, it seems.
"Because you are here to evaluate me, and not your friends who will, supposedly, be needing me," Galand points out, and strokes Nicora's ear a bit before releasing it.
"A better answer would have been, 'I would like you to be'," Nicora comments, a brief hint of playfulness in her voice.
"Well, that goes without saying," Galand says. "We make a fine duet, as shown earlier. And I am curious about what other secrets your body may hold. Do you have any plans for the rest of the night?"
"I have nothing further planned for the night," Nicora admits. Her head tilts a bit as she considers something. "I had an unusual thought that might be interesting for us both," she says.
"I am always looking for interesting things," Galand admits with a grin. "Please share?"
"Blindfold me. Allow me to share your world for the night," Nicora offers and finally reaches over to take Galand's hands into hers. "That way I learn of you in the same way you learn of me. And in that I must put all my trust in you."
"Nobody has ever suggested such a thing to me before!" Galand says, pleasantly amused. He slips a hand beneath Nicora, and lifts her up easily. "I should have something heavy and black. Have you ever danced in the dark?" he asks.
Nicora actually squeaks a bit when she's lifted up and has to wrap her arms around Galand's neck to balance herself. "I have never danced in the dark before," she admits. "Under the stars, yes, but never in the dark."
"Then tonight will be your first lesson," Galand says, carrying Nicora off towards the hall. "It is a very different experience, and Bertrand can manage a decent waltz on the violin."
"I will have to … trust you in that," Nicora says and finally rests her chin against Galand's neck and shoulder.
After a suitable blindfold is found, it turns out that the butler really can play a decent waltz. And without sight, Nicora notices things like smell, heartbeat and general feel much strongly. It's also very relaxing, with nothing demanded of her; no need to talk, or hide her arm, or do anything more than follow Galand's lead.
The dance starts out a bit awkward at first for Nicora, there are missteps and the occaisonal stumble; but not being able to see it somehow does make it easier to relax. As the dance goes on, Nicora has drawn steadily closer to Galand, finding an odd comfort in his rather strong presence. Even the beat of his heart, which she can hear clearly, is somehow soothing. "You dance wonderfully," she finally murmurs to the Lapi.
"I've had a lot of practice," Galand notes, as the dance winds down. "Now… we dance again, with a slight difference," he says.
"Difference?" Nicora asks as her movement slows, then stops, as the music fades.
Nicora feels Galand's hands on her cheeks, then down the sides of her neck, along her shoulders – and slipping the straps of her dress down her arms. "With nothing between us," he says.
Nicora tenses up, not quite sure how to react to being stripped by Galand. "I think there's something you need to know … I have a scaled tail," she finally admits, "I told you I was a mutant… " She doesn't resist as the dress slides down her body, though; soon leaving the Eeee in just the delicate undergarments made by Viktoria.
"You're one of Viktoria's costumers I see, so to speak," Galand notes, giving Nicora's tail a brush with his fingers. He knows his way around the clever hooks and buttons it seems.
Nicora feels weird … and yet finds herself liking the attention. When she manages enough resolve, her hands slide down and over Galand's chest. Once there they seen out the buttons and ties of his jacket and shirt, trying to loosen them as he loosens what little remains on her.
His fur really is thick and soft – and it reminds Nicora of the lining of Snow's cloak. There isn't anything tricky to Galand's garments, at least, so there's a minimum of fumbling. It's only when the fabric is piled on the floor… and then removed… that the Eeee recalls the butler.
When she reaches Galand's pants, Nicora finds herself pausing. But soon even those are undone and gently nudged so that they fall to the floor. As her hands come back up, they brush against something she remembers once having … and her tail twitches. The way she feels next is even odder; the thought of having it again and not her tail … is not unpleasant, but not comfortable. It's like when she remembers how she was, that body was somehow wrong.
With the last bit of clothing removed, the music soon starts again, and everything the first dance was, this one is even more so. Warmer, certainly, and without even the distraction of clothing, the sensuality is coming strictly from one another and the music.
Nicora has drawn in close to Galand in this dance. She can hear his breath, his heartbeat, his footsteps, everything. Soon her cheek is lightly pressed up against the large Lapi's chest. "You are amazing," she murmurs softly. Inside she feels … attracted to him; a tingle of desire in her stomach. Before he was so imposing, but now she finds everything about him alluring.
"Dancing is overlooked," Galand says. "But it is the very origin of courtship and mating, ancient and powerful. Pared down to it's basic notes, with hearts for drums and muscle for harp-strings and blood for harmony it is a refined experience nonetheless."
"I was scared of you when I first began speaking with you," Nicora admits as her body continues to flow and dance around the room in time with his. "Scared of being rejected for my hand or tail," she says.
"You played music," Galand notes. "That is the voice of your soul, and it was quite lovely. Being without sight, I must judge on what I hear and feel, and you are a beautiful person. What else matters?"
"That I don't know how to make you feel as special as you are making me feel right now," Nicora admits. Her lips are curled back in a smile; delighting in the warmth she now feels from being called beautiful. "Tell me what you want."
"Hmm, can you sing?" Galand asks.
"I have no formal training in voice," Nicora admits.
"But you can play the flute," Galand notes. "Would you do that for me?"
"Sing for you?" Nicora asks.
"No, play for me," Galand says with a chuckle that Nicora can feel through his chest.
"Of course I will play for you," Nicora murmurs, her cheek still lightly pressed to his chest. What she doesn't say, though, is probably just as well. The thought she just had about playing his flute did not involve a musical instrument.
"Excellent!" Galand says, and Nicora finds herself scooped up again. Bertrand is dismissed, and Nicora finds herself sitting in Galand's lap, back to chest, as he hands her the flute.
There's another squeak as she's so easily moved around. Once she's settled into Galand's lap, though, she doesn't seem too unhappy about it. In fact, she leans back, fully relaxing against him as she brings the flute up to her lips. There she thinks for a bit, pondering just what to play … and ends up playing something important to her. It's a mix of music and styles; it begins happy, carefree … but then seems to fade into something more somber, something tinged with sadness. There are moments where the pace increases when she plays a snippet of a song from a coastal city; something that implies adventure or danger … but then it trails back into something softer, longing, and lost.
What Nicora is not saying with words she is telling in song. She plays her life; from when she was a free gypsy so long ago, to when she discovered what she was. All the places she visited, she mixed in a song or a fragment of a song from those lands. The cold winter of Sylvania, the flight from Rephidim, the sorrow of the lost children of the pacbot, to the fall of Babel. It seems to be a tale told in tears … except at the end, the song seems to grow happier again; the time he met the Countess … and when the current chapter of her life began. Everything she has now gone through, from her identity change and pact with Melusine to be her pet; the song is still happy. Nicora finds that even with everything, she is happy here … and it shows.
During the latter, happy part, Galand begins using his fingers to… play Nicora. "Music is the soul," he whispers, and starts nibbling on her ears, as if trying to get her to play like she were his musical instrument.
This makes it a bit difficult to play the flute very well; it tends to get interrupted in stutters and starts when Galand manages to rub just right, or nibble just right. She also can't help herself and squirms around just a little in his lap. "You're making this," she murmurs in a rather distracted voice, "Very difficult. My mind is wandering."
"Just play what you feel then," Galand suggests, as he finishes 'tuning' Nicora and begins to play her in earnest. Eeee Concerto in B-Minor, possibly.
Which seems to devolve into some very interesting sounding squeaks and not so much actual flute playing. At one point she arches her head back, along with her arms to drape them around Galand's neck. She can't see him, but she can feel him … and right now emotionally she is feeling a lot of things. "I want to play you," she half-whispers to the Lapi. All the weird fears about things, certain acts, certain enjoyments, seem to fade away. Right now there are many things she wants to do, and somewhere inside she has decided that she will do them. No more being afraid to express and experience.
"Alright, the next Movement is yours to conduct," Galand tells her.
Nicora gently turns around until she's straddling Galand and her concert begins with a kiss; one full of passion as she takes hold of his cheeks. It is then her turn to 'tune' him as her fingers play and her teeth nibble gently on all the can find. Claws trace out the 'valves' that will change his pitch, teeth 'tune' here and there. Soon she's sliding down his lap, trying to find every place that might make him sing the song of his soul. There's even a point Nicora surprises herself; when she does something Mave once showed her about the fountain of life. Everything is teasing and testing, exploring and learning. And perhaps accepting that this is okay.
From the sounds Galand makes, it's most certainly okay in his books. The Lapi doesn't need an instrument, as he can sing, becoming a sort of baritone clarinet… although Nicora finds how to adjust his pitch by how she handles the 'reed', as it where. Galand tries to tell her not to rush, lest the Third Movement arrive too soon!
And here is where Mave's lessons have come to help Nicora; she knows how find just the right point and not push it any further. Soon she's back in his lap, her arms draped around his neck. There she rests a bit … and gives Galand a reprieve too. As she rests, though, the shadow decides to get involved and soon its odd warm is oozing down and exploring in tendrils down his back. It isn't kenning him … it's teasing him. Were Nicora to think about it; its very similar to how Melusine tries to torment her now and then.
"Ah, intermezzo," Galand whispers, and seems to enjoy the tendrils and simply holding (and rubbing) Nicora in his lap. This doesn't last too long, however, before the bat finds herself being swept up into the Third Movement, which is apparently a piano piece, as she finds herself being laid out on top of it. A new twist is added when Galand starts to lick the shadow, which feels strange but nice. The conductor's wand comes into play now, and Nicora is compelled to take notice of it's every dip, sweep and thrust.
And notice she does; because soon she is very much a part of the orchestra that it directs. Its movement directs her song, created by her voice, her breath, and her heart. What she was only a couple weeks ago seems a distant memory; like an odd dream, and what she is now, is embraced with passion and acceptance. Even her very shadow seems to accept this; for instead of kenning Galand, it plays him, guiding him in his music, encouraging the pair to be a unified voice, a single song.
The Third Movement builds in strength, leading to a clashing, almost chaotic crescendo, followed by a gentler melody to bring things to a more orderly and intimate close. There aren't any flowers being thrown or standing ovations, but Galand does kiss Nicora for quite an extended period.
And Nicora's arms and legs embrace Galand as she holds him close. Her only thoughts are how incredible that just was … and suddenly how much she likes the body Melusine gifted her. But, perhaps Melusine was wrong in on the dangers of what they have done; because right now Nicora is happy to be a woman; someone like Galand made it more than worth it. When the kiss finally ends, the Eeee murmurs into one of his long ears, "Act one ends and the night is still young. I fully intend to stay for acts two and three."
Galand scoops her up again, while still letting her wrap around him. "Time to go to the balcony then," he says, and Nicora finds herself being carried though the house, which feels interesting since the buck is still inside her as they move. Especially when he jogs up the stairs! His bed is much softer than the piano, but the acoustics of the room are just fine as Act 2 starts. Followed by Act 3, and of course the Encore. And then, the curtain falls… for a few minutes, followed by the second Encore and bows, of course. Nicora succumbs to sleep after that, finally, wrapped around a warm, living pillow (which is actually pretty firm under the fluff).
As Nicora drifts off in to an exhausted sleep, her mind wanders over everything that just happened. There was a time she would have been horrified by the idea of tending the fountain of life … but by act three that fear was gone. Everything Mave had done to her at one time, she revisited upon her Lapi friend tonight. Her final thought as sleep falls is, "Maybe Mave really is happy as she claims. Her way of prayer is enjoyable… "
Wakefulness comes sometime the next day, time unknown. It doesn't include grogginess or soreness, since Galand eases her into it with a massage. She also notices, after the uninterrupted sleep, that her cramps never came back, and she feels… well… less icky down there.
"Mm," Nicora mumbles from where she lies and is quite enjoying the massage. The blindfold is still very much in place as having never been removed from last night. She also seems so … deflated now that the cramps have gone and taken the ick with it. Lazily she reaches for her tail and when she finds it, gives it a gentle squeeze to see if the sensations it caused have also passed.
She feels the squeeze, but no little pulse of pleasure. And then it tries to bite her hand. "That is a pleasant sound to hear," Galand notes.
"Your voice is a pleasure to hear," Nicora murmurs softly. "You are amazing."
"I am just a humble music teacher and bachelor," Galand notes, "who needs a guide when leaving my home. But I suspect I have your approval?"
"I'm not sure yet," Nicora murmurs. She lifts her feet up and those prehensile toes knead his sides playfully.
"Oh? Not willing to share now, is that it?" Galand asks, and starts rubbing the kneading feet. "Or is there some other test I must pass?"
"We have time for a morning concert," Nicora teases and finally sits up. "But, yes, I suppose you do pass."
"Well, in that case… perhaps some water music?" he suggests.
"Water music?" Nicora asks. "Are you asking me to bathe with you, sir?"
"Of course," Galand says. "I often bathe for breakfast. Doesn't everyone?"
"I could have you for breakfast," Nicora teases, "And I don't mean blood." She finally does remove her blindfold, though, as bathing with it on would be problematic. She does reach over and brush her hand against Galand's cheek as she says, "But alas, I am sure you have many other duties than dealing with a silly Eeee. I will accept the bathe, then leave you in peace. But … I do think you will see me again some day, so to speak."
"Of course," Galand says, and kisses Nicora's neck. "Bertrand should have the bath drawn by now," he says, and once more scoops up the bat. It seems she's not allowed to actually walk from room to room anymore.
"I could get very used to you," Nicora notes as she drapes her arms once more around Galand's neck, then licks one of his ears lightly.
"You could always sign up for lessons," Galand notes. "It is appropriate for angels to know how to play the harp, I've been told." He carries her into the bath, which is also an Olympian style sunken tub, with actual steps down into it (although not large enough for more than two people, as it is still a townhouse).
"I may have to do just that," Nicora says as she slides into the bath with a contented sigh. She feels so much better. Idly, though, she does feel herself down there to make sure the swelling and tenderness have, in fact, all gone. Plus … she still isn't quite out of the habit of checking her body every morning just to be sure nothing has changed.
Everything is still as she remembers it from the previous day, although her makeup is probably mussed. As for tenderness… it's still there, but not from menstruation. As if sensing this, Galand reaches down into the water and applies a soothing cream to the affected area. "I have learned to keep this to hand after such nights," he explains. "Although Khattas never seem to need it."
"Eeee," goes Nicora as the soothing cream is applied. "Do you often have such nights?" she asks him once the shock wears off.
"Not so very often," Galand admits. "Most women lack the stamina, or become too easily overstimulated. It takes a woman at the peak of their sexual maturity to last like that. You are among a rare few, Nicora," he notes, and probably does a bit more rubbing than needed to apply the cream. After all, he could lift her up on those fingers and do who knows what with them.
"Flattery with get you everywhere," Nicora tells Galand as she lifts up every so slightly from the touch and leaning lightly against him. "I've never had a night quite like that," she admits, "It's the first time in a while I've feel comfortable with myself."
"You should never feel uncomfortable with yourself," Galand notes. "It will lead to all manner of problems." He lifts her right arm with his free hand, and asks, "Is it safe to use soap on your playful arm?"
"It is perfectly safe," Nicora agrees as she lets that hand go limp should he desire to clean it. Her own left hand dips below the water, though, and finds part of his anatomy to massage. After all two can play at the distraction game.
Between the soap suds and mutual teasing, one thing leads to another… twice. The water is tepid by then, but that actually helps to cool things down, so that toweling each other off is a safe proposition at least. "It is a shame we cannot share a meal," Galand admits.
"There is a way I can eat like you," Nicora admits. "What happened to my hand … the tendrils can, well, absorb solid food. There is no nutrition passed to me, but … it lets me pretend I am not a vampire. Would that be enough?"
"So long as you can taste and savor the food, yes," Galand says. "And would be willing to wear the blindfold again."
"Blindfold me, then I'll prepare myself to be able to eat normally," Nicora offers as she finishes toweling off the Lapi.
The blindfold returns, and once more Nicora is carried through the house to the dining area, where Bertrand must be cooking. The butler must be very discreet, or else nonplussed about having a nude couple at the breakfast table. Nicora can smell pastry, and honey and some other things. But the first thing she finds pressed to her lips is a strawberry.
"Give me one moment," she murmurs to the Lapi and doesn't bite into the strawberry just yet. Nicora leans herself back in her chair a bit and tries to relax. Blindfolded, she decides to try and place the shadow entirely through feel. She places her hand palm down on her stomach, just below her navel. Her head leans back and she concentrates, letting the shadow ooze from her hand and crawl up to her navel. And … there she waits, to see if her shadow will instinctively flow into her through the small opening Melusine made in her.
It's a cool feeling, having the shadow squirm and stretch to find its way through the tight passage. Once through, it fills the upper intestine before oozing through the sphincter into the stomach. It's soothing, once she gets used to it (and it stops moving).
Nicora makes a confused squeaking sound as her insides feel squirmy. The only relief, perhaps, is that she has had a crash course over the past day on new things inside her. She shivers and then sits back up. "Now, where were we?" she murmurs, leaning forward until her nose touches the berry. She takes it carefully into her mouth, using her long tongue to practically lick it out of his fingers. She chews slowly, relishing a rare taste before swallowing it. And then she waits to see if nausea comes … or she feels the shadow devour it.
What comes is… nothing. Not a sense of having it in her stomach at all, as if it simply vanished upon swallowing. Something new is being held under her nose now: baked, with butter and honey on it. It's something she hasn't smelled before.
Nicora's jaws open and she takes a bite of whatever was presented to her. She chews this even more than the strawberry, delighting in its novel and delicious taste. "Such things I have been missing. I could have had this sooner had I not been afraid of the shadow," she thinks as she swallows.
It's crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, like something fried… but without oil. "One of my favorites," Galand says. "I grew accustomed to them in Gallis. They are called waffles," he notes. The next bite offered builds on the previous ones: a bite of waffle, topped with cream and a strawberry.
As much as Nicora hates Gallis, she finds that she cannot hate this. The waffle she devours slowly as it is presented to her, delighting in the odd mix of flavors she has never experienced before. So many things a vampire misses out on, she realizes.
The next bit is very unexpected, yes oddly familiar. Soft and crisp… it's bacon! Probably from Bertrand's own breakfast. "I can't stomach it myself, but the aroma is enough to make my mouth water," Galen notes.
Nicora knows this smell well … thanks to the exploding hog … and the countless she has shadow-devoured, This, too, she eats. "I've smelled this before, but never eaten it," she admits. "It did always smell good."
The Lapi continues to ply Nicora with new flavors and textures, from cereals to fried breads and what is probably a hard-boiled egg, along with whatever fruit is available. If not for the Eeee's long tongue, her chin would likely be thick with honey, syrup or powdered sugar by now.
And thanks to the shadow, Nicora never actually gets sick to her stomach from eating too much. Eventually, though, it has to come to an end. "That was new and delicious," she admits to Galand, all smiles. "And … I think you like me blindfolded. All at your mercy," she teases.
"Would you be less at my mercy without it?" he asks. "It was your suggestion; I am merely making sure you get the most benefit from it."
"I am quite happy being at your mercy," Nicora notes, using her ears to find him before she reaches out to stroke his cheek. "You done much for me, Galand. I have not felt this good in a very long time. If there is ever anything I can do for you, please ask it of me."
"I may ask you to visit again," Galand warns with a chuckle.
"You like me enough to wish me to be around more?" Nicora asks. She suddenly feels … odd again, as if there's a momentary worry she just earned herself a boyfriend.
"I enjoy your company," Galand notes. "I would ask you to stay longer today, but… alas… I have an early afternoon lesson and preparations for a recital in the next few days."
"I understand. There are things I must see to as well. I have one small favor to ask of you before I go, though, if you will permit me?" Nicora asks.
"Of course, simply name it," Galand offers.
"Look into a longer-wearing blindfold or some sort of eye covers? Something that does not get in the way of my hair or face as much as possible?" Nicora offers, "When I am with you … I wish to share your world. I will willingly trade my sight during the times we are together."
"Very well, I will look into it," the Lapi promises.
"You do not find the request too weird?" Nicora asks.
"I find it flattering, actually," Galand admits.
"Well … as much as I wish it was not time, I must go get dressed and leave. I will recommend you highly to my friends. I know they will be comforted by your presence. You were able to calm me, something I did not expect," Nicora says as she stands. Again, it is her ears that finds her Lapi friend and she draws him into a warm embrace. "Thank you, Galand, for everything."
