Day 4 - Wagon Trouble

[Relent<]

"Name your price, if you find money unsuitable." He replied, with a bit of a laugh. "Or were you interested in the precise dollar figure? In any case, I'm willing to be more than accommodating given the circumstances. Though I'd prefer we discuss the specifics this evening at the hotel; I fear there may be too many eager ears listening here." He eyed a group of workers who's chatter had grown quiet not too far from where they were presently standing.

"Allow me to call a cab, and get the lock-box, and we can be on our way presently. Would you like to come inside? Have a bit of tea, perhaps?" He tried to make their conversation seem as casual as possible in light of the possible eavesdroppers' proximity. He didn't look directly at them, but peered at them from the corner of his eye as he retrieved the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door, stepping promptly inside.

 

[Carnivore]

(since I'm a little fuzzy on what's all going on at the moment, I figured I might as well reflect that as I put Isis back into the fray. I've re-appeared her in town, fortuitously taking Marcy / Mercy's room. If anyone ends up her way, I've kept it open for a 'double booking.')

The past few hours had been a complete and total blur for Isis. That seemed to be happening to her a lot lately. Perhaps she should stay off all the alcohol that these Aygomen appeared to have an endless tolerance for. Or perhaps her life had been more hectic in the past few days then they had been in any given year on the Eboniaan Isle. Tree-ish elders didn't exactly produce exciting nightlife and culture. At any rate, Isis recalled being transported in an Ambulance to the nearby town, and once there had promptly wandered off. She now found herself in some kind of inn.

She looked at the innkeeper, or at least the only person around to do any innkeeping. She didn't seem to be a person of stature or importance. She looked like a small young woman, plain and a bit mousy, looking quite shy. Unless per personality belied her looks, she was likely standing in for someone else. To Isis's good luck, the first thing the girl said once Isis came into view was “Oh, hello... would you be Marcy? If so, the room is ready for you. It's upstairs, the first door on your left.” The girl seemed eager to help, or at least not to make a mistake. Ironic, that.

“Why yes, thank you. I'll head right up.” Isis told the girl sweetly, being exceptionally polite. “Thank you so much for seeming to me. If anyone else asks for me, don't hesitate to send them up to the room.” Isis didn't want to burn any bridges, seeing as how the room belonged to Marcy. If he wanted to show up, he was welcome to share the room with her. Surely the room was big enough for the both of them? Marcy barely took up any space at all, really.

Entering the room, Isis noted that it was somewhat small, yet had a Queen sized bed. If nothing else, the featherbed was much more luxury than Isis was used to. In fact... Isis exclaimed in delight as she found the bathroom with a sizeable tub. It was perfect, and could practically fit a Phauxnorse if one were so inclined to shove one in the here. Isis gratefully took the opportunity to bathe, filling the tub with warm water. As an Eboniaan, she had to make sure to keep her skin soft and supple, lest she turn to bark before the gaping eyes of the local fleshy folk. She opened a jar of her own concoction, a slightly gritty paste with a sweet smell, and began carefully applying it to her limbs and torso, lifting each part out of the water in turn before letting it soak again. The smell was more than a ruse, her sugars were a key ingredient in the exfoliating and softening mixture, maintaining her lovely soft dark skin. Thankfully, she was confident no one would try to cook her simply for her sweet taste. She let herself relax in a long soak, ignoring the chaos of the circus camp for a few blissful moments.

 

[Relent<]

((EE, Taj, whenever you guys can spare a moment, you're up. Carnivore, wb. I'll try to get some things stirring in town for you and Valerie within the next few posts. In the meantime, I can dabble about with a random NPC if you like?))

A young boy came up the stairs, and after looking from door to door for a few moments, he found the number of the room to whom the bouquet was addressed. He knocked twice at Isis' door and waited, taking a moment to scratch his bum while there was no one around to chastise the discourteous act.
After a moment had passed with no answer, he knocked again, this time announcing himself.
"Delivery!" He called through the door. Placing his ear to the door, he could hear running water. "Mum, are you in?" A few moments longer passed with no answer.
With a shrug, he lay the bouquet carefully against the door jamb nearest the hinges, and turned to walk down the hall, whistling a tune he'd heard played in town.

 

[Carnivore]

(If you like, Relent, it might give Isis something to do for a bit and set the scene, rather than have her soak in the bath for however long until another character showed up. But don't strain yourself. If you're up to your eyeballs keeping the game going, I'll certainly manage. Up to you.)

Isis stirred from her bath as she heard knocking at the door to her room. The door wasn't locked, and whoever it was could come in if they wanted. Still, Isis reasoned that it might not be best for her to be in the bath at the time. She sighed begrudgingly and stood up to grab a towel. But while the tub might have been fit for a Phauxnorse, the towels certainly were made for shorter folk. As she managed to wrap a towel around her chest and another tied to her waist, she heard a boy's voice call out from behind the door. "Delivery! Mum, are you in?"

Mum! Isis's eyes momentarily flared with indignation. Who would call her motherly?! Although, by these short-lived Aygomen's standards, perhaps she was that old. The thought was a little unsettling. She declined to call out and answer him, preferring to let him sit as she carefully got herself ready. Still dripping wet, her skin glistening with the aftereffects of her sugary balm, she made her way to the door. Opening, she called out: "Yes, what is it?" in a sweet voice that didn't indicate her earlier annoyance. Looking around and finding no one, the confused Eboniaan woman finally looked down and noticed the bouquet.

Grinning, she carefully (making sure not to lose her towels) knelt down to pick them up, smelling the floral aroma. "Mmmm." she sighed, "Is Marcy trying to put me in a good mood? Or do I have a secret admirer?" She had to admit, however she came by these flowers, they had put her in a good mood. Feeling pampered by her bath, room, and ladylike treatment, Isis went back into the bedroom to look for a place to set her gift.

 

[Relent<]

((So that everyone's in the know: Val's tied up in incumbent weather, EE's having some technical difficulties, Taj I haven't heard from--but I should think you're alright?
Taj, Because I don't know what else to do, I think it would be a good time to progress the narrative by way of Katarina and Alex. Do you remember what his role is with her?))

******
Katarina had been escorted a short distance away, to somewhere on the other side of the fairgrounds. They'd initially wanted to put her somewhere very visible to ensure her safety, but Katarina--after being brought up to speed on what exactly was going in--pleaded with them to keep the matter quiet and to keep her out of sight. She may not have been very smart, but she knew enough to know embarrassment and would not be seen in such distress by her co-workers. It wasn't as if the three gentleman had had any choice but to be accommodating. Even with the ladder lashed to her arms, shoulders, and back to restrain her, she was still strong enough to simply stop walking if they refused her her requested courtesy.
When they reached one of the tents, they walked her inside and found the centermost pillar at the center of one of the rings. Here she would have privacy, shelter, and furthermore, there was a strong enough structure to secure her to.

"Now Katarina, we know you're getting the short end of all this..."
"Shortened?"
"...right...but we need you to promise you won't try to run off or do anything...unbecoming."
"I promise."
"But we have to tie you to this pole, alright? Just your wrists so that you can lie down and go to sleep when you need to."
"How will eat?"
"Um...hadn't thought of that....Okay, new plan. We'll tie you to this post at the knee, so you have your hands free and can lay down when you need to. Alright?"
"O-right."

With that they began to remove the furnishings from Katarina's limbs and re-purpose the rope to her knees and ankles. They say her in front of the pole, and she placed he legs on either side. Using a shorter ladder, they placed either end between her legs and tied them above her knees. They proceeded then to lash her thighs together on the other side of the pole, and then to lattice the ladder and thigh ropes together to form a tight bind. They did a similar ladder trick for her ankles, and left them otherwise unfettered to form something like ankle-irons.
"That feel okay? It's not too tight is it?"
"Is fine." Katarina said calmly, leaning back on her hands and testing her restraints.
"Well we won't leave you all alone out here. We're going to each take a four hour watch of you tonight, to make sure you're not bothered. One of us will be back right after dinner, and we'll swap out from then on. You sure we can't get you anything?"
"No. Is fine." Katarina said, though she would not look directly at them.
"Ok....We'll see you soon. And don't you worry, this will all blow over."

With that they left, cinching the canvas flaps of the tent opening behind them. The only light came from the edges of the tent, where the wind took the canvas on occasion, and a circle of light that came down in a large circle from the top of the pole, illuminating her like some sort of display. Finally alone, and fully aware of the situation's gravity, she placed her hands to her face and cried.

 

[Relent<]

((Carnivore, since it will be some time before we hear from EE, I'm throwing a maid your way to play with I hope you don't mind how cliche the situation is, but I've got nothing else XDD))

Another knock came from the door, and from behind it came a quick, sharp call from a heavily accented tongue.
" 'Ouse-keeping," It sang in a high, clear voice--like a christmas bell, or the clinging of silverware against crystal. Without awaiting any particular reply, the door opened and a maid stepped in, carrying a basket of cleaning supplies, and reading some manner of list. When she looked up from her list, and saw that the room was occupied, she bowed abruptly and apologized in broken english, covering her eyes with one arm, and reaching behind her to find the door. "I come back later, Je suis désolée (I'm sorry)."

((Yes, it's a french maid. I'm THAT cliche But Isis speaks french, right?))

 

[MistressValerie1]

The notary had asked Minh what she would like in return for "questioning" Katrina. Minh tugged at her cheap pendant watch and replied, "I could use a watch that keeps time better than this one." She wanted to add that she also wouldn't mind having the services of the acrobat Marcy as a personal toy for a while, but, not knowing the notary well, thought better of it.

 

[Relent<]

"Is that all?" He scoffed, almost incredulously. Mihn was either incredibly merciful in these proceedings, or so satisfied by the work itself that she hadn't any greater desires.

"I must say, I wasn't expecting something so...simple. Not that I'm complaining. We can take a walk through jewelery store in town, and see if there's anything that suits your taste. Otherwise, we can always wait until we get to London or Paris and find a 'Tiffany and Co.' for you to peruse." He grabbed the lock-box from a drawer, and folded his jacket over it as he approached the door. "Are you sure that there's nothing more? The phauxnorse is not an easy mark, even for you."

 

[Carnivore]

(Oh, the cliché! A french maid! Eh, I'm up for it. And it is established that Isis speaks a Caribbean accented French. Being lazy, I'm just going to go with <french> for foreign dialogue.)

Isis turned around at the knock on the door, and subsequent entrance of a maid. Still holding the bouquet in her hands, Isis looked at the woman curiously. She held a basket full of towels and bottles in one hand, and with the other she was covering her eyes. Was it the custom of this inn to have the maids clean it one-handed and blind? She also seemed terribly apologetic about it. Not having run into maids, Isis was not accostomed to the practice of only cleaning a room when the occupants were out.

<Sorry for what, that you're paid to clean the room? If that's your job you should do it now rather than later shouldn't you?> She spoke in her colonially accented French, responding in kind to what was either an Aygomen or Parisian french accent. Though she'd never admit it, frankly Isis could not tell the difference, having heard only her own her whole life. Isis gestured her in, before realizing she couldn't see her. Sighing a little at the confusing behavior, she walked over to her, lightly but forcefully grabbing her upper arm with a damp hand and pulling her fully into the room, closing the door behind her. <Come in, come in then! Besides, this room could use a change of towels and a good dusting.>

Deciding to let the maid get to her work, or at least make up her mind if it wasn't already made up for her, Isis moved away, looking for a place to set her flowers. Taking a last whiff of the aroma, she found a vase on top of the bed's headboard. Reaching out over the bed, she set her flowers, a damp knee leaving a wet spot on the bed where she knelt.

 

[Relent<]

The maid, forced to look at the half naked guest, squinted, resisting the urge to close her eyes completely. As Isis tended to her flowers, she still resisted looking at her directly, focusing on the furniture nearest herself, and the instructions she'd just been given. She wasn't altogether embarassed by these circumstances--as she'd seen the interior of many a locker room with much exposed tenants than this--but propriety insisted that she preserve the modesty of her guest.

Taking a feather duster from her cleaning basket, she flitted the fronds over the end table, the armoire, and the desk. She worked quickly, but thoroughly, hoping that at some point Isis would return to the bathroom or wherever it was she'd come from in such a state of nudity so that she might do her job more conventionally. Still, after having quickly finished the other fixtures, the only one that remained was the bed, on which Isis was presently seated. She stepped toward the fixture, with a sidelong glance, and a slightly raised hand to shield her eyes as if approaching some great radiance. She extended her other hand, with the feather duster toward the bed, and flickered the feathers back and forth until she felt it contact something--which she assumed to be the bed's foot-board.

 

[Carnivore]

Having placed her flowers, Isis began drying herself off fully. Taking the towels wrapped around her, she dried her skin quickly but carefully, still kneeling on the bed… until she felt something very soft brush against her left foot. Whatever it was tickled terribly, and the surprise of it made Isis drop her towels onto the floor. Thankfully she was almost entirely dry by this point. Turning her head, she saw the odd self-blinding maid tickling her foot with her feather duster! The feathers brushing against her skin actually felt rather pleasant, but it tickled her terribly.

Biting her lip and stifling her reaction, Isis watched the maid blindly "dust" her. The girl's actions seemed clumsy and inept rather than flirtatious, and Isis again wondered what inn would make maids clean this way. Part of her was tempted to keep her foot out for as long as possible, and just let the maid gently and unwittingly tickle her until she couldn't keep silent anymore, as if she were some statue being dusted. But her reluctantly pulled her foot away from the duster and let the maid do her work. Isis laid sideways on the big bed, flat on her back, and attempted to regain her composure. She didn't want the maid to think she was laughing at her once she asked her another question.

 

[Relent<]

((sorry this thread has slowed down so much, but there's not much I can do to speed things along {X( Thank you all for being so patient))

The maid, flitted her duster to and fro until she decided that the footboard was sufficiently clean, and made her way along the bed's edge, dusting what she assumed to be the frame. She backed up, her hand still in position, unseen to her the duster beginning to flit aimlessly over Isis's legs and bum.

She noticed Isis's feet in passing, slightly more pink about the soles than she'd "not-seen" before, and as she continued her blind task, she noticed that Isis's body squirmed somewhat, though no sounds or full withdrawal from her was made. Was she watching her work? What interest could a simple dusting hold? It wasn't exactly a riveting spectator sport, after all. Bashfully, she considered that possibility that she was being secretly admired...
Her duster came across Isis lower back, and over her hip.

 

[Carnivore]

Isis had little time to recover. As soon as the tickly feeling left her feet, the feather duster returned, drifting over the smooth skin of her thighs. Before she could even react, the duster moved to her rear, drifting back and forth along her near side. The maid acted as if she were blissfully unaware of what she was doing. Isis again tried to restrain herself from laughing, although it became harder and harder to do with each wispy stroke of the feathers along so much sensitive skin. She squirmed and wriggled in place, but tried her best to keep her composure.

Internally, she was at war. A part of her was elated at the ticklish attention, and the feathers made that part of her grow with each brush. Oh, to simply lie here and be ticklishly brushed! To be softly stroked with those feathers until she burst... but there was another more rational part of her that was trying to figure out why. Surely the maid couldn't be so simple as to be unaware of what she was doing, even if she had her eyes covered? Isis realized the maid was probably flirting with her, teasing her under the guise of having to do her job under such strange conditions. Such a strange game, where no one admitted it was even going on... but the thought tickled her fancy even as the feathers tickled her hip and rear, causing her to flinch, her stomach to shake with suppressed laughter. If she opened her mouth now she'd barely be able to say anything.

Isis decided there was one way to be completely sure of the maid's attentions. Isis summoned all her remaining composure and stretched her form out across the bed, bringing her arms up behind her hair. Her tall, statuesque body was pulled taut, all her ticklish parts exposed and completely vulnerable to the maid's attentions. Isis was sure she was making herself completely irresistible, if that was the maid's intent. If the girl kept going, she'd have her answer, and perhaps a wonderful way to pass the afternoon.

 

[Relent<]

The maid continued her feather dusting, watching Isis's body writhe soundlessly from the knee and lower. As she proceeded higher, she realized that her implement had reached a sort of...convex? Bed frames didn't have convexes...Was she...?

She couldn't bring herself to look, but the more she felt the shape with her duster, the more sensible the guest's movements became. The movement of her toes and legs, squirming to and fro in time with the slightest movements of her hand...And then, she watched her legs as she rolled over.
Her duster must then...be...
"Oh my..." she sighed, slowly moving her duster across what must surely be her guest's exposed mound; her face becoming rather red as she continued, and a small smile creeping across her face.

 

[Carnivore]

Isis could hardly believe the bold actions of this strange maid. The feathers crawled across her hips, dragged their tips devilishly across her waist... and then teased her very womanhood. Isis shuddered as the duster made contact with the bare Eboniaan skin, free of any clothing or hair. The maid's actions answered all of hers in the least subtle of ways. Isis gave in completely to her desires, wriggling joyously under the feathers, taking in the sensation with an electric glee. The maid moved her soft weapon with an evil simplicity, slowly stroking in a way that was just too much to take, leaving Isis almost begging for more. “Oh, yes! Oh please, give me more! No wait, keep it just like this! The way she teases me is so unbearable... I hope it never ends!” her mind begged internally. Each movement of the feathers sated her need to be touched, and ignited a hunger for more just as quickly.

Finally letting herself free, Isis giggled lustily, laughing in a low, throaty voice that had a sensual, purring quality to it. Her fingers intertwined behind her head, her body undulated in an attempt to encourage those wonderful feathers. “Ohohoo...mmmmmhmhmhm.... careful, that's a very dusty spot!” Isis blurted out to the maid, eagerly allowing herself to be 'dusted' clean.

 

[MistressValerie1]

The circus manager seemed surprised at Minh's humble request of a new watch, so the ringmistress figured that she might as well raise the ante. "Of course," she added, "I would like to borrow one of the circus men to help me with my exercises after I engage in such a taxing activity as trying to extract the truth from a phauxnorse."

 

[Relent<]

((So I've heard from everyone but Taj, I guess we're moving on without him for the time being. EE will post when he's able, but I'll sort of "push his empty vessel" around to get him as far as the town, but after that I'm not sure how to play Marcy other than have him roaming the grounds planting evidence. This was supposed to be more of Taj's scene, but I'll do what I can.))
((Also, long post. In order of relevance, Valerie, Taj, EE, Valerie, Carnivore))
***************************
The manager led Mihn cordially outside of his office, locking the door behind him and proceeded with her toward the promenade as they continued to converse. They would meet the cab by the main road, but in the mean time, the notary entertained Mihn's request with a bit more curiosity.
"A man? Exercises?" He raised a quizzical eyebrow. Finally shrugging his shoulders, he gestured to the grounds around them as they passed a crowd of workers all settling down their camp-ware and firewood for the night. He gestured with his hand to the lot of them. "Choose any one of your liking, and I will turn the wheels in your favor. The valet you choose will remain in your...service indefinitely, until such time as I can acquire a watch. Think of him as a security deposit."

The group of men that had been watching them from outside the notary's office, however, knew that there was something valuable at stake here, having kept a close ear on the office window as the specific stipulations of the ring mistress and the manager's exchange took place. If they could extract Katarina's confession before the ring mistress had a chance to question her properly, there was a decent chance of them being able to usurp her reward of equal value to a Tiffany's watch. They hadn't any idea what Katarina had done, or what they would even accuse her of, but so long as she admitted to whatever she was being charged with, and it appeared to be of her own volition, then they could claim the reward on the grounds that they'd persuaded her to come clean. All they had to do was figure out where she was being held...
*********

Marcy and Alex had parted ways, and Erimosi was hidden from sight as he kept an eye out for the cab. Right on schedule, he saw the notary walking toward the cab stop at the end of the promenade, marked by a white posts with black stripes painted on it. There was a woman with him. How odd...
At any rate, when the cab arrived, and the two were inside, his task was to stall them or the driver long enough for Erimosi to sneak onto the luggage rack at the rear of the vehicle so that she could steal a ride into town. It should be easy enough.

Seeing them and not the cab as of yet, he decided to begin his delay tactics, and approached the woman and the notary, saying affably "Good evening sir. Leaving for town so soon? It's so unlike you to waste daylight?"
"I've business to attend to before the offices in town close. My work is far from over." he sighed irritably in reply.
"Well, whatever your office, I hope you won't spend too many hours in sobriety tonight."
"Away with you!" the notary groaned, waving his hand as if to shoo him along.
"You see?" He said to the woman. "No sense of humor. I dare say he's of no use at all without a drink. See to it that he's properly libated won't you? Consider it a favor to me, and anyone else with whom his temper is already too short."
**************

The maid had long been told of the etiquette of flirting with guest using a simple stroke of the duster, though it was usually far more subtle: a flicker of the feathers across the neck or chin in passing, a gentle stroke of the wrists or palm. This method was much more direct, and much more rewarding, as this nudist writhed in ecstasy on the bed, pleading for the contact.

It wasn't often she was given this sort of...power, over a person. With the majority of her adult life having been spent in servitude of others, this change of pace was most refreshing. And as such, she decided to keep the guest in continued servitude of her touch, and not the other way around.
She brought the downy fronds up across her stomach, and over her bosom, looking over her shoulder not to make sure she knew exactly what she was touching, and at length, brushed over Isis' chest with repeated slow, long strokes.

 

[Relent<]

((Oh shit, I can un-delete threads? XDD That makes my job much more convenient. But for the sake of organization, let the game continue in the new Day 4 thread. A re-cap of the last 10 post has been included for navigability.))