vanessa ives (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
transgressings) wrote2019-01-19 07:40 am
transgressings) wrote2019-01-19 07:40 am
inbox for duplicity;
INBOX
text / audio / video / action
INBOX
text / audio / video / action
You're welcome to meet at Haven if you number no more than thirty. My colleague has agreed. I have another location in mind if we're to have a larger meeting than that. There are some underground springs east of the hospital. I would caution to avoid touching or drinking the water, though. It has rather unsavory properties.
Doctor Reid, is it?
My apologies, but I don't believe this message was intended for me. Though I confess to a certain amount of curiosity about those springs you mentioned.
My apologies, but I don't believe this message was intended for me. Though I confess to a certain amount of curiosity about those springs you mentioned.
[continued from here]
[Dorian does not text her back after getting the confirmation of her floor number and room. It takes him almost an hour to make his way there, having to avoid most of the public transportation so as not to risk the chance that he might be stopped or pulled out of the crowd and detained. Instead, he uses the side streets and less trodden paths to get into the Down, only making his way onto the elevator once he's sure it's safe.
The housing for the submissives is just as dreary as it was the first time he'd seen it. That's only a small reflection at the back of his mind, though, as he takes the stairs up practically two at a time. He doesn't need to--Vanessa is probably not going anywhere--but there's an urgency inside of him that spurs him on that he can't quite contain.
Finally, he makes it to the ninth floor and finds her room, taking a moment to compose himself before he knocks. His heart is beating fast from both his journey and because he doesn't know exactly what he'll find on the other side of the door, whether she'll be the Vanessa he remembers or someone else. He hadn't thought to ask her what she remembered before he'd taken off to find her; will she be like Mr. Chandler, taken from a point of his past? Or will she be from some year in the future?
He can't say. But he raps his knuckles against the scarred door and calls out to let her know it's him.]
Vanessa, are you still in?
[Dorian does not text her back after getting the confirmation of her floor number and room. It takes him almost an hour to make his way there, having to avoid most of the public transportation so as not to risk the chance that he might be stopped or pulled out of the crowd and detained. Instead, he uses the side streets and less trodden paths to get into the Down, only making his way onto the elevator once he's sure it's safe.
The housing for the submissives is just as dreary as it was the first time he'd seen it. That's only a small reflection at the back of his mind, though, as he takes the stairs up practically two at a time. He doesn't need to--Vanessa is probably not going anywhere--but there's an urgency inside of him that spurs him on that he can't quite contain.
Finally, he makes it to the ninth floor and finds her room, taking a moment to compose himself before he knocks. His heart is beating fast from both his journey and because he doesn't know exactly what he'll find on the other side of the door, whether she'll be the Vanessa he remembers or someone else. He hadn't thought to ask her what she remembered before he'd taken off to find her; will she be like Mr. Chandler, taken from a point of his past? Or will she be from some year in the future?
He can't say. But he raps his knuckles against the scarred door and calls out to let her know it's him.]
Vanessa, are you still in?
Edited 2019-01-21 15:00 (UTC)
[ In truth, Vanessa has not left her room since she first made her way to it — on whose power, she cannot say, save for what residual strength she'd carried from somewhere deep within, all of it leaving her practically at once the moment she'd crossed the threshold of her intended living quarters and glimpsed a bed, small and meager but more than welcome considering her exhaustion. She doesn't know how long she'd slept, drifting through dreamlessness and eventually jerking awake to the sound of a bullet firing. Only then had she emerged from the bedcovers to look in the adjoining wardrobe, though she'd known beyond any doubt what she would find even before laying eyes on the gown, its ivory drape stained with red on the bodice — and she'd slammed the door shut with a small, shuddering breath. She hasn't opened it again since.
Rather than attempt to dress herself in the flimsy paper they'd sent her out in, she settles for using her bedsheets as a makeshift covering, wrapping one of the clean sets around her body and tying it securely at her chest before draping another across her shoulders and pulling it tightly closed. There's no hope of obscuring the mark bisecting the column of her throat, a gray line that doesn't appear to have changed in any manner since she first glimpsed it in her dirty mirror, but in her various attempts to use her device she's seen mention from others facing difficulties as a result of the line shifting to a different shade.
The knock at the door pulls her from where she's studying the mark again, as well as the whole of her reflection. Without pins to secure her hair it's a long, tumbling mass spilling down her shoulders, but there are no dark circles beneath her eyes, nothing to signal any weariness or distress otherwise. She composes her expression as carefully as she's able and crosses the room to open the door for him, inclining her head slightly. ]
Mr. Gray. I apologize for greeting you like this; I'm sure you can understand I'm not feeling entirely myself.
Rather than attempt to dress herself in the flimsy paper they'd sent her out in, she settles for using her bedsheets as a makeshift covering, wrapping one of the clean sets around her body and tying it securely at her chest before draping another across her shoulders and pulling it tightly closed. There's no hope of obscuring the mark bisecting the column of her throat, a gray line that doesn't appear to have changed in any manner since she first glimpsed it in her dirty mirror, but in her various attempts to use her device she's seen mention from others facing difficulties as a result of the line shifting to a different shade.
The knock at the door pulls her from where she's studying the mark again, as well as the whole of her reflection. Without pins to secure her hair it's a long, tumbling mass spilling down her shoulders, but there are no dark circles beneath her eyes, nothing to signal any weariness or distress otherwise. She composes her expression as carefully as she's able and crosses the room to open the door for him, inclining her head slightly. ]
Mr. Gray. I apologize for greeting you like this; I'm sure you can understand I'm not feeling entirely myself.
[ if only the sender knew exactly how this particular verse would resonate with her once received, so much so that she questions if it has been sent in error at all, or if this is a sign she is meant to acknowledge for the truth it presents. ]
Are you a man of God, Mr. Custer? [ after checking to learn the identity of the man behind the message. ]
Are you a man of God, Mr. Custer? [ after checking to learn the identity of the man behind the message. ]
no, the death card means change. its a good thing.
Open possibilities, perhaps.
Though I gather this reading may have been for someone else?
Though I gather this reading may have been for someone else?
( billy would never claim to be vain about the clothes he wears. sure, he likes to present himself well. he has a certain image to maintain, so he likes his tailored suits and his well-made clothing. but he doesn't simply go for brand names or expensive items to flaunt his affluence. they have to be comfortable. practical. he does indulge himself though. growing up the way he had, he considers it's only right for him to treat himself now that he can.
with the start of a new business, billy can only count on it providing him with more revenue than what the government has provided him, especially with two subs under his care. money means security. it always has. he hasn't been taking advantage of his finances here as much as he could though. it didn't feel right. vein will be different, however. his income there will be earned, not given.
but if he is going to be perfectly honest, he never had much need for cash outside of meeting basic needs, forming useful connections, and donating to the occasional charity. whether it was back home in new york or here in this city, it hasn't changed.
after meeting vanessa, he offered to help her settle into the city. he does like shopping, especially with an engaging companion. bill has always been a social creature. he likes to meet and talk to people. it not only relaxes him but it also allows him to befriend quite a number of remarkable and useful individuals. in this particular case though, he just happens to like vanessa. she has a certain allure to her that he hasn't seen in any other women he has met so far. it's... compelling. )
What about this? ( he holds up a dark green, long-sleeved dress for her to survey. ) It's slim fitting, but comfortable. Warm enough to wear in the cold with an outer coat, but not too hot to wear during the summer.
( rosie, who is under bill's supervision today, seems to agree with his statement, giving an enthusiastic bark. ) I think she wants you to try it on, Van.
with the start of a new business, billy can only count on it providing him with more revenue than what the government has provided him, especially with two subs under his care. money means security. it always has. he hasn't been taking advantage of his finances here as much as he could though. it didn't feel right. vein will be different, however. his income there will be earned, not given.
but if he is going to be perfectly honest, he never had much need for cash outside of meeting basic needs, forming useful connections, and donating to the occasional charity. whether it was back home in new york or here in this city, it hasn't changed.
after meeting vanessa, he offered to help her settle into the city. he does like shopping, especially with an engaging companion. bill has always been a social creature. he likes to meet and talk to people. it not only relaxes him but it also allows him to befriend quite a number of remarkable and useful individuals. in this particular case though, he just happens to like vanessa. she has a certain allure to her that he hasn't seen in any other women he has met so far. it's... compelling. )
What about this? ( he holds up a dark green, long-sleeved dress for her to survey. ) It's slim fitting, but comfortable. Warm enough to wear in the cold with an outer coat, but not too hot to wear during the summer.
( rosie, who is under bill's supervision today, seems to agree with his statement, giving an enthusiastic bark. ) I think she wants you to try it on, Van.
[ She'd been surprised, albeit pleasantly so, when he'd extended the offer to help her procure some clothing. In the wake of Dorian's funds being frozen, Vanessa had nearly anticipated that more than one of those designated as dominant would be negatively affected, but Mr. Russo had assured her several times over that it was well within his ability to provide for her. Of course, at present, she has no concrete means of paying him back, nor the finances to easily reimburse him, although she's planning on doing so at the first available opportunity.
Some of the shops boast clothes that she would never be comfortable donning, but after a brief stroll through the market in the Up, small dog in tow, they'd stumbled upon a shop boasting wares that seemed to suit her tastes much better. She's made up her mind to try each garment on before letting him purchase it, out of the desire to avoid the need for any returns if something is ill-fitting, and right now they're slowly proceeding down the racks of clothing.
She can't resist lifting her hand to idly trail fingertips across the varying fabrics, noting the contrast in how each material feels to the touch and picturing it against her skin rather than with a long petticoat slip serving as a barrier in between. Undergarments have also gotten significantly smaller over the years, as she'd noted upon viewing a certain display with a mixture of fascination and bemusement. Apparently, she's meant to be fitted properly for a brassiere later.
The other dresses she's selected are currently draped over her forearm, though one of the salespeople repeatedly appears to take each new set and hang them up in the fitting room for her to try on, and Vanessa gives the dress Bill's holding out a brief perusal before reaching out to clasp fingers around the hanger, adding it to the others. ]
I can't even recall the last time I had cause to wear green, Mr. Russo. [ And the smirk is evident in her eyes, if not her mouth, at that delivery of her name. ] But I seem to be outvoted at the moment.
Some of the shops boast clothes that she would never be comfortable donning, but after a brief stroll through the market in the Up, small dog in tow, they'd stumbled upon a shop boasting wares that seemed to suit her tastes much better. She's made up her mind to try each garment on before letting him purchase it, out of the desire to avoid the need for any returns if something is ill-fitting, and right now they're slowly proceeding down the racks of clothing.
She can't resist lifting her hand to idly trail fingertips across the varying fabrics, noting the contrast in how each material feels to the touch and picturing it against her skin rather than with a long petticoat slip serving as a barrier in between. Undergarments have also gotten significantly smaller over the years, as she'd noted upon viewing a certain display with a mixture of fascination and bemusement. Apparently, she's meant to be fitted properly for a brassiere later.
The other dresses she's selected are currently draped over her forearm, though one of the salespeople repeatedly appears to take each new set and hang them up in the fitting room for her to try on, and Vanessa gives the dress Bill's holding out a brief perusal before reaching out to clasp fingers around the hanger, adding it to the others. ]
I can't even recall the last time I had cause to wear green, Mr. Russo. [ And the smirk is evident in her eyes, if not her mouth, at that delivery of her name. ] But I seem to be outvoted at the moment.
[ her response comes more quickly this time, her ease in navigating the devices much more prominent now than it ever has been. ]
To what do I owe the pleasure?
To what do I owe the pleasure?
Friends, or is that word too generous?
Ms. Wardwell.
I've been meaning to visit that new tea shop in the Up. Would you care to join me there?
I've been meaning to visit that new tea shop in the Up. Would you care to join me there?
I would have expressed this in person but I was uncertain if you were feeling well enough to see me.
How have you been feeling?
( she's not questioning whether or not it worked, lilith knows it did but she also knows what an exorcism can take from a person )
How have you been feeling?
( she's not questioning whether or not it worked, lilith knows it did but she also knows what an exorcism can take from a person )
I appreciate your thoughtfulness in the matter. I have been taking the time to recuperate from the ordeal.
But I never had the chance to appropriately express my gratitude for what you did for me, so thank you.
But I never had the chance to appropriately express my gratitude for what you did for me, so thank you.
[He probably should have sent this earlier. Or he just... shouldn't send it at all? He's trying to be less monstrous, though. An apology might not mean much all things considered, but he probably owes the woman an explanation, at least.]
I wanted to extend a formal apology for our last encounter, Ms. Ives. I'll be sure to avoid you in the future. As much as I can.
Sorry.
[That's... insufficient, but he's really not sure where else to go with that.]
I wanted to extend a formal apology for our last encounter, Ms. Ives. I'll be sure to avoid you in the future. As much as I can.
Sorry.
[That's... insufficient, but he's really not sure where else to go with that.]
[ it may be a long time before she finally answers him. is it apparent that his text has been read several times and left unresponded to? possibly. can he view that on his end? probably.
but when she does reply after some time has passed: ]
May I ask you something, Mr. Sims? If you'd be kind enough to oblige me.
but when she does reply after some time has passed: ]
May I ask you something, Mr. Sims? If you'd be kind enough to oblige me.
Hi Vanessa,
We haven’t met, my name’s Nicole. Wynonna and I are throwing a surprise birthday party for Waverly, and we’re hoping you're available. Attached is your official invite with all the details. Let me know if you have any questions.
invite.jpg
We haven’t met, my name’s Nicole. Wynonna and I are throwing a surprise birthday party for Waverly, and we’re hoping you're available. Attached is your official invite with all the details. Let me know if you have any questions.
invite.jpg
( there's a box left on her bed, something long yet small, a note sitting underneath it, flowing script of writing.
though at first, it will be unintelligible, words of a language untranslatable, no longer known by any. until vanessa really looks at it, picking it up, the words translating across into english.
Vanessa, this will protect you from those that would have ill-will towards you, keep yourself hidden to them. Keep it on you. Mary.
inside the box vanessa will find a broach, a light item that lilith assumed was more her taste than other items of jewellery, something enchanted to do exactly as she's written )
though at first, it will be unintelligible, words of a language untranslatable, no longer known by any. until vanessa really looks at it, picking it up, the words translating across into english.
Vanessa, this will protect you from those that would have ill-will towards you, keep yourself hidden to them. Keep it on you. Mary.
inside the box vanessa will find a broach, a light item that lilith assumed was more her taste than other items of jewellery, something enchanted to do exactly as she's written )
( it's late when lilith teleports in, the state of her dress easily telling vanessa that she was prepared for another activity, deep purple of her robe hugging her body. but there'd been-- a necessity. a concern. lilith had first brought vanessa to the safe house after she'd been trapped in haven and now--
it had been days, perhaps longer, the war still transpiring. and perhaps selfishly lilith had had a thought of doing more than simply checking on her )
Vanessa--
( her word is quiet as her entry was, the first thing that would allow the woman to know she was there )
I hope you can forgive my intrusion.
it had been days, perhaps longer, the war still transpiring. and perhaps selfishly lilith had had a thought of doing more than simply checking on her )
Vanessa--
( her word is quiet as her entry was, the first thing that would allow the woman to know she was there )
I hope you can forgive my intrusion.
[ Vanessa has not ventured back to Haven since the war began to crescendo, too concerned by the possibility that any one of them could be put at risk or that the location of the safehouse could be jeopardized were the wrong people to follow her without her knowledge. Still, there are those who remain aware of where it is in the Down, perhaps the most unlikely place that anyone would think to seek her out.
She's seated in bed even if she isn't sleeping, listening to the sounds of movement within the house itself and momentarily contented by the fact that both Ethan and Dorian are nearby even if neither of them is in here with her. Dorian had inexplicably vanished for three days before returning with a certain insatiability, and she currently bears the marks to show for it, fading love bites on the sides of her neck and along the dark line that bisects her throat. Eventually, he'd exhausted himself enough to sleep, although she'd reached that threshold long before he had, and now, after so much rest beyond her normal routine, she finds herself wide awake at a late hour.
She isn't startled so much as briefly surprised, eyes widening before she recovers to offer an acknowledging nod. ]
Of course. Please, sit.
[ There aren't many options save the bed itself, but she rises from it to gesture for Mary to join her. ]
Is there something the matter?
She's seated in bed even if she isn't sleeping, listening to the sounds of movement within the house itself and momentarily contented by the fact that both Ethan and Dorian are nearby even if neither of them is in here with her. Dorian had inexplicably vanished for three days before returning with a certain insatiability, and she currently bears the marks to show for it, fading love bites on the sides of her neck and along the dark line that bisects her throat. Eventually, he'd exhausted himself enough to sleep, although she'd reached that threshold long before he had, and now, after so much rest beyond her normal routine, she finds herself wide awake at a late hour.
She isn't startled so much as briefly surprised, eyes widening before she recovers to offer an acknowledging nod. ]
Of course. Please, sit.
[ There aren't many options save the bed itself, but she rises from it to gesture for Mary to join her. ]
Is there something the matter?
( When at last she is able to make it to the apothecary, Herian's body is still battered and bruised. Though she had survived with her life and her body intact, it had taken a sound beating at the hands of the woman she had fought with. It was an honourable fight, and yet could not be enough to leave her still. The cost of pain could not be the neglect of duties.
Wandering through the apothecary is something of a relief. Alien though parts of it are, there is much that is familiar. Similar scents to her mother's work in herbalism, strange salves and oils, plants that she recognised but could not recall the purpose of.
She stands in black and grey robes, without her armour, but still bearing herself as a knight must despite the pain, sword at her side as she carefully selects a vial, brow furrowed. This... would be the moment she has no idea what she's trying to find, and she sets it down with a faintly perplexed sigh, looking to see if she might lay eyes upon one more equipped to assist her. )
Wandering through the apothecary is something of a relief. Alien though parts of it are, there is much that is familiar. Similar scents to her mother's work in herbalism, strange salves and oils, plants that she recognised but could not recall the purpose of.
She stands in black and grey robes, without her armour, but still bearing herself as a knight must despite the pain, sword at her side as she carefully selects a vial, brow furrowed. This... would be the moment she has no idea what she's trying to find, and she sets it down with a faintly perplexed sigh, looking to see if she might lay eyes upon one more equipped to assist her. )
[ The shop is still open — for now, at least, although its proprietor has expressed a recent desire to perhaps close for the time being until the worst of the war has ended, to prevent looting and other crimes from occurring, but until that day comes Vanessa will come to work as she's asked to, usually posed behind the counter for anyone who happens to walk in off the street, but often working in the back on certain salves and tinctures that are more herbal in nature than profess any magical qualities. Still, her talents in this area more than complement Miss Hanson's abilities to offer certain "love potions" and other natural aphrodisiacs, which tend to sell well around certain times of year even if they're sold with the caveat that their use cannot be forced on another person.
The surroundings of this place are a comfort, calling back to those long days she'd spent on the moor picking plants and herbs for various use; more often than not, she returns to the house on Middlemist Lane with her hands smelling like earth, or of the various scents she tests on herself before making a bigger batch to sell. She's currently sampling an aloe-based salve on the back of her hand before rubbing it between her palms, brought out from the rear of the store by the sound of the bell ringing over the door, and slowly stills to a stop at the sight of long dark hair and an undeniably striking profile.
She no longer wears the mask, but Vanessa recognizes her mystery woman from the masquerade ball in an instant; carefully schooling her expression into one of polite neutrality, she approaches with a soft sound of boot heels clicking against the floor. ]
May I help you?
The surroundings of this place are a comfort, calling back to those long days she'd spent on the moor picking plants and herbs for various use; more often than not, she returns to the house on Middlemist Lane with her hands smelling like earth, or of the various scents she tests on herself before making a bigger batch to sell. She's currently sampling an aloe-based salve on the back of her hand before rubbing it between her palms, brought out from the rear of the store by the sound of the bell ringing over the door, and slowly stills to a stop at the sight of long dark hair and an undeniably striking profile.
She no longer wears the mask, but Vanessa recognizes her mystery woman from the masquerade ball in an instant; carefully schooling her expression into one of polite neutrality, she approaches with a soft sound of boot heels clicking against the floor. ]
May I help you?
text; mouseover for english! & https://www.thoughtco.com/french-kisses-bise-vs-bisou-1371280
maledictation
2019-10-18 05:46 am (UTC)(link)
Vous êtes très instruit. Peut-être que ton français est meilleur que le mien. Quelle différence entre une bise, un bisou et un baiser? Pouvez-vous m'apprendre?
Mon français est passable, Monsieur Ambrose, mais je suis curieux de savoir pourquoi vous envisagez de embrasser. Il y a une différence entre les trois, principalement en ce qui concerne l'endroit où vous le placez.
It had taken him a long time of going through the phone directory and putting a name to a face from a night that while, in part, has vivid imagery for him, is also a bit of a haze. It took longer still to figure out where he should deliver his note.
Twice on the way he nearly balks and thinks of engaging a delivery service. It's why he has a vial of mixed powders clipped to a necklace now, blue and green. Maker's breath, the red would be a disaster after that night. What if he were to transform again? What if he were to catch her in green?
No, this is better. He draws himself up, makes sure his clothing is straight and neat, and raps sharply on the door thrice. He has a wax sealed envelope clutched in his other hand, the letter within written in his painfully cramped script:
Ms. Ives,
It has taken me too long to take this action, and for that you also have my sincere apology. When we met that night in the Up, I was not myself, in the most literal sense of the word. I believe, no, I know, that I both said and did things highly out of character for me, and I can only hope that you will accept my deep apology.
Sincerely,
Cullen Rutherford
Twice on the way he nearly balks and thinks of engaging a delivery service. It's why he has a vial of mixed powders clipped to a necklace now, blue and green. Maker's breath, the red would be a disaster after that night. What if he were to transform again? What if he were to catch her in green?
No, this is better. He draws himself up, makes sure his clothing is straight and neat, and raps sharply on the door thrice. He has a wax sealed envelope clutched in his other hand, the letter within written in his painfully cramped script:
Ms. Ives,
It has taken me too long to take this action, and for that you also have my sincere apology. When we met that night in the Up, I was not myself, in the most literal sense of the word. I believe, no, I know, that I both said and did things highly out of character for me, and I can only hope that you will accept my deep apology.
Sincerely,
Cullen Rutherford
It has been a while since that night, an evening that had seemingly passed in an instant while simultaneously stretching on for what felt like an impossibly long amount of time — and she has thought of him since then. How could she not, when even the slightest brush of clothing against her skin had revived the intensity of the marks he'd left behind, left her reeling from the lingering sensitivity? Even after she had recovered physically, the memory of it still resides within her, but she had not been given so much as a name to seek him out by and so she'd been unable to solve that mystery on her own power.
The residence she occupies with a few others is certainly one of the more impressive buildings on the street, so much so that one would think there would be someone else there to take the delivered letter, a hired person or even a butler to collect the message and ensure that it reaches its intended recipient — but rather than any one of her housemates or any staff, it is Vanessa herself who answers the knocking at the front door, looking much more reserved than her prior encounter thanks to the long dress that covers her with its high collar that nearly hides the full length of her submissive mark.
Her brow furrows lightly as she surveys the man standing in front of her, confusion and curiosity worn in equal measure on her expression, and she offers a small questioning tilt of her head before the words follow.
"Can I help you, sir?"
The residence she occupies with a few others is certainly one of the more impressive buildings on the street, so much so that one would think there would be someone else there to take the delivered letter, a hired person or even a butler to collect the message and ensure that it reaches its intended recipient — but rather than any one of her housemates or any staff, it is Vanessa herself who answers the knocking at the front door, looking much more reserved than her prior encounter thanks to the long dress that covers her with its high collar that nearly hides the full length of her submissive mark.
Her brow furrows lightly as she surveys the man standing in front of her, confusion and curiosity worn in equal measure on her expression, and she offers a small questioning tilt of her head before the words follow.
"Can I help you, sir?"
[Crowley might have adopted modern technology with ease every time it came along, but that doesn't mean he's forgotten more traditional methods. And Vanessa is hardly from the 21st century, a text or a phone call strikes him as being — not quite right.
Instead, there's a courier sent with delivery, accompanied by a note written in a surprisingly elegant script:]
Vanessa,
I'm afraid I may have overstepped some boundaries during our last meeting, and for that I apologise. I'd find myself disappointed if it meant the end of our friendship, but I'll defer to your wishes and comfort.
I hope the flowers are to your liking.
Respectfully,
Crowley.
[It's not an apology for what happened, but an apology if he's made her uncomfortable. He knows Vanessa has been in the city for some time, but casual sex wasn't really the Done Thing when she's from, so.
He'll leave the ball in her court, for now.]
Instead, there's a courier sent with delivery, accompanied by a note written in a surprisingly elegant script:]
Vanessa,
I'm afraid I may have overstepped some boundaries during our last meeting, and for that I apologise. I'd find myself disappointed if it meant the end of our friendship, but I'll defer to your wishes and comfort.
I hope the flowers are to your liking.
Respectfully,
Crowley.
[It's not an apology for what happened, but an apology if he's made her uncomfortable. He knows Vanessa has been in the city for some time, but casual sex wasn't really the Done Thing when she's from, so.
He'll leave the ball in her court, for now.]
[ her response comes soon — not immediately, but that is only because she has been working out the best way to express her thoughts, not to mention picking out the right gift with which the note is attached: ]
My dear Mr. Crowley —
I would be remiss if I allowed you to harbor the mistaken impression that there are any ill feelings between us after the events that transpired in the park. I have since come to the realization that many of us had fallen sway to a particular influence that impacted our actions, and I was not immune from those effects.
That said, I have learned to move through life in this city with a certain understanding that these things can and do happen. Consider the attachment to this note a token of my admiration, as well as an acknowledgment that I far from regret the experience. If your schedule permits, perhaps we can meet over tea in the near future.
It is my hope, ultimately, that I shall remain —
Your friend,
Vanessa Ives
My dear Mr. Crowley —
I would be remiss if I allowed you to harbor the mistaken impression that there are any ill feelings between us after the events that transpired in the park. I have since come to the realization that many of us had fallen sway to a particular influence that impacted our actions, and I was not immune from those effects.
That said, I have learned to move through life in this city with a certain understanding that these things can and do happen. Consider the attachment to this note a token of my admiration, as well as an acknowledgment that I far from regret the experience. If your schedule permits, perhaps we can meet over tea in the near future.
It is my hope, ultimately, that I shall remain —
Your friend,
Vanessa Ives
action; honestea, the day after their chat on the network
scarletchalice
2019-12-19 03:33 am (UTC)(link)
[ continued from here ]
[ Laura makes her way to meet Vanessa at their agreed-upon time, reflecting with some amusement that this isn't the first time she's met a stranger in a tea shop since she's been here and that it probably won't be the last. Not that she would have objected to a different venue, but there's something familiar and easy about a conversation over a cup of tea that will probably always stay with her no matter how divorced she is now from the life she'd been brought up in, when her father's wife had got out the tea things for every occasion possible and no one ever came round for any reason without being cajoled or coerced into drinking a cup.
She's been to the shops since she first came to Duplicity, and while some of the presumably more modern clothing styles had interested her a great deal, she's still most comfortable in something resembling what she might have worn at home: today, a simple, sleeveless, knee-length dress of ivory silk, a long black jacket, stockings, heels, and the fashionable dark red cloche she'd had with her when she arrived. Laura glances around the tea shop as she walks in the door, genuinely interested though maybe making a bit more of a show of it than she needs to for anyone who might be watching — and then she sees Vanessa at a table on the far side of the room, and crosses the distance between them, taking off her hat and her jacket as she does so.
Up close, it's hard not to remember their first meeting, the kiss they shared in the park. Laura smiles. ]
Vanessa — [ If she herself is going to insist on informalities, she may as well lead by example. She hopes the other woman isn't offended. ] I hope I've not kept you waiting.
[ Laura makes her way to meet Vanessa at their agreed-upon time, reflecting with some amusement that this isn't the first time she's met a stranger in a tea shop since she's been here and that it probably won't be the last. Not that she would have objected to a different venue, but there's something familiar and easy about a conversation over a cup of tea that will probably always stay with her no matter how divorced she is now from the life she'd been brought up in, when her father's wife had got out the tea things for every occasion possible and no one ever came round for any reason without being cajoled or coerced into drinking a cup.
She's been to the shops since she first came to Duplicity, and while some of the presumably more modern clothing styles had interested her a great deal, she's still most comfortable in something resembling what she might have worn at home: today, a simple, sleeveless, knee-length dress of ivory silk, a long black jacket, stockings, heels, and the fashionable dark red cloche she'd had with her when she arrived. Laura glances around the tea shop as she walks in the door, genuinely interested though maybe making a bit more of a show of it than she needs to for anyone who might be watching — and then she sees Vanessa at a table on the far side of the room, and crosses the distance between them, taking off her hat and her jacket as she does so.
Up close, it's hard not to remember their first meeting, the kiss they shared in the park. Laura smiles. ]
Vanessa — [ If she herself is going to insist on informalities, she may as well lead by example. She hopes the other woman isn't offended. ] I hope I've not kept you waiting.
Edited (jesus what happened to my verb tenses) 2019-12-19 03:35 (UTC)
[ It does seem a fairly neutral spot — though the park had also seemed a somewhat unobjectionable locale too, and that hadn't stopped the city from exercising some surprisingly timed influence over both Vanessa herself and a woman who, as it turned out, holds a considerable amount of intrigue for her. She'd made attempts to assure that there were no hard feelings after the fact, no regrets over what transpired between them — and this feels like a way of continuing that reassurance, offering evidence to the fact that they can certainly meet under more casual circumstances.
Her own choice of attire is a bit less formal than her norm — a collared sheer blouse layered over a velvet camisole, paired with a high-waisted skirt, and her submissive mark is faintly visible through the cloth before it disappears beneath the low cut of the bodice beneath — but she's made herself comfortable without issue, likely because she's also wearing a delicate silver necklace around her throat, not an obvious collar or indication of her contracted status but certainly a symbol of something gifted to her by a friend, the same friend who just so happens to be her dominant.
She'll rise by the time Laura makes her way across the shop, reaching out with the intent of clasping the other woman's hand in greeting once she's shed her outer layers. ]
Not at all. I hope you don't mind that I've already ordered for us. [ She gestures to the teapot, along with the two empty cups, set out on the table. ]
Her own choice of attire is a bit less formal than her norm — a collared sheer blouse layered over a velvet camisole, paired with a high-waisted skirt, and her submissive mark is faintly visible through the cloth before it disappears beneath the low cut of the bodice beneath — but she's made herself comfortable without issue, likely because she's also wearing a delicate silver necklace around her throat, not an obvious collar or indication of her contracted status but certainly a symbol of something gifted to her by a friend, the same friend who just so happens to be her dominant.
She'll rise by the time Laura makes her way across the shop, reaching out with the intent of clasping the other woman's hand in greeting once she's shed her outer layers. ]
Not at all. I hope you don't mind that I've already ordered for us. [ She gestures to the teapot, along with the two empty cups, set out on the table. ]
[A small wrapped box arrives at Vanessa's door. Inside is a pair of lace gloves and a note in careful, cramped writing. "When I saw these, I thought of our talk in the garden. On my world, around this time of year we celebrate a holiday called Satinalia, a time of sharing gifts. I hope this isn't too forward. Enjoy.
Regards,
Cullen"]
Regards,
Cullen"]
[Dorian knows that he'll more than likely see Vanessa during the day with all of the festivities going on, but he sneaks one present into her room while she's out, a small and flat box wrapped in paper that he sits on her bedside table. It seems like something too personal for her to unbox in front of others, so he leaves it there with the intention that she'll find and open it alone.
Inside is a bed of white tissue paper, but resting carefully in its middle is a framed copy of the picture that Dorian had taken of the three of them — himself, Ethan and Vanessa — on their Ferris Wheel ride so many months ago.
There's no note aside from a small tag attached to the paper that bears her gifter's name. Dorian didn't think that it would need any explanation and nothing he could write down seemed appropriate.]
Inside is a bed of white tissue paper, but resting carefully in its middle is a framed copy of the picture that Dorian had taken of the three of them — himself, Ethan and Vanessa — on their Ferris Wheel ride so many months ago.
There's no note aside from a small tag attached to the paper that bears her gifter's name. Dorian didn't think that it would need any explanation and nothing he could write down seemed appropriate.]
Edited 2019-12-27 12:31 (UTC)
[Vanessa will find a small box with her name on it on the 25th, waiting at her residence in the evening. It contains a pair of scorpion earrings.]
Ms. Ives,
I saw these earrings and thought of you. May they terrifying your enemies and intrigue your friends.
Merry Christmas,
Jonathan
Ms. Ives,
I saw these earrings and thought of you. May they terrifying your enemies and intrigue your friends.
Merry Christmas,
Jonathan
[on the morning of december 25th, vanessa finds a long slender box waiting for her on a corner table just outside her bedroom door. it is accompanied by a card signed by ambrose, wishing her pleasant yule tidings in his cursive, flowing script.
within it, there is a black ribbon embroidered with impossibly intricate running wolves.
when tied around her hair, she finds that her locks will slowly but steadily shift themselves into an immaculate cloak of perfect waves and curls.
if, however, tied around her neck as a choker, her hair falls into wild waves, with flyaways that look like mist coming off water or smoke from a forest fire, all stormy windblown volume.
if tied around her waist or any other part of her body, the ribbon seems to perform a little neatening up trick. tiny bits of lint or dust vanish, the skew to her collar suddenly falls compliantly into symmetry. her perfume reinvigorates itself, and the scent of recent sex, for example, retreats to the private corners between her fingers where only she might know to find them.
the description details only what part of her body she might choose to wear the ribbon, rather than the effect.]
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