tushanshu_logs | [EVENT] A NEW WORLD ORDER

[EVENT] A NEW WORLD ORDER

Characters: ALL!
Date: December 8, 2015 (with some starters for the following weeks)
Location: Keeliai, the Midnight Hotel, others
Situation: The Foreigners have awakened.
Warnings/Rating: Add warnings as needed.

They've been in the Dreaming for so long that when they wake up their bodies feel more like automatons, alien and ill-fitting. They haven’t atrophied, thanks to Milyn, but they’re stiff and a little bedsore, and the solidity of the Life Plane is jarring. Here, the surroundings don’t move on a whim. Here the world is more stable, almost harsh and unyielding in spite of the homey surrounds.

It’s been a year, says the clock on the mantle and on the second floor. Says Milyn, too, when she’s able to stop hugging them long enough to speak.

Nothing much has changed in the Midnight Hotel. There are dishes out of place, objects belonging to either Milyn or Eva in evidence, the diorama exactly where it had been but now brightly-painted thanks to Milyn's boredom. Milyn and Eva took a room each, in the time the Foreigners were sleeping, though neither used them much.

Eva’s upstairs, Milyn will tell anyone who asks. In her room.

Eva hasn't left that room in three days. She hasn't spoken in three days, either, or walked, or moved, or breathed. Her effects are neatly arranged around her bed, and the sheet has been pulled up. There is heavy incense in the room and Milyn has managed to preserve the body enough to remove the risk of too much mess (and other things). In a way, that makes it worse: as though Eva is sleeping. It’s difficult to tell whether Milyn is in denial or whether spending three days with no one to talk to other than sleeping Foreigners and a corpse has had its influence.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Solomon watched that flush spread with a deceptively lazy expression, one that didn't even hide the fact that he was looking on this particular occasion. With her hair wet, her ears were very much on display. Solomon certainly didn't mind, and the little appreciative smile lurking around the corner of his mouth didn't do anything to hide that fact.

"Yes?" he answered his name with that lazy innocence, kneading the soap into his hair and then stepping back to rinse it under the shower. He didn't miss the pause, however. "That one's new, I take it," he said more soberly, brushing back his hair so it lay flat. If only he could stand it on his shoulders--but even a touch of curl was preferable to the weight of the length, even though it couldn't be as bad as Raine's.

Maybe they'd be able to find a pair of scissors somewhere in the near vicinity.

"You know my name," she returned when he answered, and did not really expect it to make a difference. Rather, Raine moved on from that matter, tapped the scar lightly with two fingers. "Yes, it's new. Or relatively so, at any rate."

Who could tell exactly how the time had moved in the Dreaming, after all? Certainly not her. It would fade in time, though likely never completely, and she'd keep the reminder. "I healed it in stages, rather than in one arte," she added by way of explanation for why the scar remained so evident. Then she lifted her shoulders a little, and scrubbed over it once more, and her gaze drifted back to Solomon.

He was watching her, of course, had been. Not exactly unusual behavior, especially in their context, but it still occasionally made her pause, that sort of regard from him. It was not something to which she was wholly accustomed, though it was certainly pleasing, catching him watching her, and Raine couldn't quite help the slow returned smile, despite the turn the conversation had taken.

Solomon didn't press, if Raine didn't want to volunteer the source of what had obviously been a near-lethal injury. She was alive and well; any details were, by now, quite the moot point. Besides which, he was enjoying the view, and the exquisitely charming smile that was being returned to him.

"Would you care for some help with washing your back now?" he asked innocently, already reaching for the soap to lather some in his hands without once looking away from her.

In this case she definitely was glad he hadn't pressed; Raine would have disliked outright lying, but the fact it had not been directly Malicant, rather Skulduggery who had nearly killed her then was one she'd rather not brandish about. Even if she had forced his hand at the time.

Raine put those thoughts away, and nodded. She moved a little closer to him, holding his gaze as she did, before turning on the spot, absently sweeping the annoyance of her hair out of the way again. "If you don't mind," she said over her shoulder. Not that she thought he actually would, but painstaking courtesy was apparently the name of the game. "It would be a little more difficult, by myself."

"Not at all," Solomon said blandly but with a twinkle in his eyes that she could no longer see. He touched her shoulders gently, running his hands across her skin to spread the soap, but ensuring the touch was lighter than it had to be. Though there were no outright caresses in attendance, the touch was too light to be considered strictly 'business-like', and certainly wasn't quite enough to perform a proper washing.

Raine did have to wonder how it was Solomon managed to find a near-perfect balance with his touch, seemingly neither intent on one thing or the other. It was both impractical and frustrating, and she bore it for only a little while before rolling her shoulders and twisting to look back up at him. "Solomon," she said, striving for coolness, not quite managing to hide the fond amusement in her tone. "Pick one. Are you washing, or caressing?" Never an actual question that he was doing it on purpose, however.

"Why can't it be both?" Solomon asked innocently, widening his eyes at her glance back as if to question how he could possibly be doing anything untoward. "If I didn't know any better I might almost think you were questioning my capabilities, Master Healer Sage."

But this time when he kneaded her shoulders it was firmly, a deep and lingering sort of massage that was no less caressing for the fact that it was a massage.

She did not believe Solomon's innocence for a moment. "I have no doubts in your capabilities," Raine returned, "and I'm sure you can manage both, but at the moment you-- ah." The pronounced shift in the manner of his touch rendered her temporarily nonverbal, and she closed her eyes, the better to appreciate it. A significant improvement. Raine hummed a quiet, pleased note, and relaxed into the touch.

"At the moment I?" Solomon prompted after a moment, still all innocence, and lightened his touch again to not much more than a light stroke down either side of her spine, as if trying to find another knot in her back except for the fact his touch was too light to find one.

The fact she had felt compelled to cut off her own words was gratifying. It meant he was certainly doing things right, that he was sufficiently distracting her. And himself. It helped, to focus on her like this; helped him ignore the things that had happened in the Dreaming and the fact he still felt as though he was missing a major part of himself.

At the moment, the man was driving her to distraction. And Raine found she didn't wholly mind, really, they could certainly both use it and it was remarkably difficult to think of anything else with Solomon being this particular sort of teasing, but it was all kinds of frustrating. Raine huffed a little, shook her head. "At the moment, you seem to have chosen a less effective middle ground than I would have expected," she said at length, reclaiming her composure by dint of determination alone. "For reasons I'm sure I can't begin to guess at." Her tone edged a little bit playful by the end; she could make a reasonable enough guess.

At first Solomon didn't answer, because he was too busy ... ahem ... washing Raine's back. The pressure of his hands changed from firm whenever he paused to linger on a particular area to light when he was shifting between them; but always he moved, if slowly, down. Finally he rested his hands on her hips, still well within the technical bounds of propriety except for their state of undress. Well, that and the fact that Solomon stood just close enough for his chest to brush Raine's back when he took a breath to murmur directly into her ear, "I've absolutely no notion what you mean."

He stayed there just long enough to make Raine acutely aware of his presence and then stepped back to reach for the soap himself. "Would you like to scrub my back for me?" he asked innocently. Turnabout was fair play and all.

Edited (adding more meaniness.) 2014-12-28 05:24 (UTC)

Raine's breath grew shallower as Solomon worked his slow, methodical way down her back, and by the time he stopped she was very nearly perfectly still. Each point of contact was magnified far beyond the impact it reasonably should have, and there was a quiet, powerful temptation to simply lean back against him, and see what happened.

In the end she couldn't quite say what stopped her. Perhaps the consideration of their emotional states; perhaps the relatively impractical locale. But the moment passed with Raine practically frozen there, and then Solomon was stepping away, and Raine centered herself.

When she turned, she extended one hand, palm-up, for the soap. "I'm sure you don't," she said, and, "Yes, I'll take that." Though the blush from earlier remained, she managed to maintain an even tone, and she kept her eyes on his.

It wasn't even a request--more like a demand. A demand that made the laughter in Solomon's eyes grow, and he smiled an admittedly lazy, satisfied smile, and handed her the soap. Then he turned into the shower's spray, lifting up his chin so he could immerse himself as much as possible under the heat of the water. His back was broad enough that Raine still ought to work up a lather, in spite of that.

It was simply more sensible, given the awkwardness of reaching one's own back in the first place, and especially given the muscular problems he'd been having earlier. Soap in hand, Raine regarded his turned back contemplatively. She was not nearly so artful as he was, and discarded near immediately the idea of trying to turn his own tricks back on him.

Instead she was artless, focused on the practicality of the task at hand, heedless of how close it took her to him. Raine reached up, starting at the nape of his neck, shifting the trailing ends of his hair aside where necessary. From there she worked her way down, soaping as she went, her touch firm and even. There was nothing particularly special about it, save the occasional unintentional brush of contact when Raine reached back up or leaned, but when she judged she was nearly done, she paused, and did give in to one tiny piece of temptation, trailed her hand lightly down the line of his spine. Then she shook her head, amused at herself, and finished what she'd been doing. "There," she said, when she had done. "That ought to do."

Although it wasn't something Solomon had a tendency to broadcast, he did enjoy attention to the back of his neck, and hadn't expected Raine to start so high. He inclined his head forward, covering the motion as if he had just wanted to feel the water on his face and over his head, but he only lifted it again once she had moved lower, wiping his hair off his eyes. Then he borrowed the soap to wash off the rest of him Raine wasn't focussed on.

He was acutely aware of the 'unintentional' contact with something other than her hands--though he assumed it was, in fact, fully intentional. Raine was too intelligent not to know he was playing with her, and she had more than enough humour to play back.

Though he was faced away, Solomon couldn't help but grin at the little afterthought of a stroke. He wasn't sure if it was wistful or the beginning of an aborted attempt to turn some of his own teasing back on him--but it was endearing, in its own way, and amusing in all the others.

"I do hope you haven't missed any spots," he said lightly, turning and ducking once more under the water to properly wash off the rest of the soap. Then, since they were both squeaky clean, he turned off the shower and stepped out, squeezing water out of his hair. He reached for one of the towels and shook it out, and held it up for Raine, an expression of perfect innocence all over his face. "Master Healer Sage."

"You tell me," Raine said, a little dryly, and she wrung the majority of the water from her own hair, watched him go before following. He'd certainly spent enough time watching her in turn to be able to tell if she had, at least, where she had been distracted. The title now she barely batted an eye at, save to press her lips together briefly in something like irritation. Instead of commenting, she simply reached to take the towel from him and wrap herself in it.

"I'd say you haven't, myself," Solomon answered, still innocently but with that tell-tale twinkle in his eyes. He surrendered the towel, but reached for the other to stand behind her and wrap her hair in it, and massage it gently into dryness, near enough that Raine may as well have leaned back against him. With her towel between the two of them, there was significantly less risk of losing control of the situation while still being able to tease her a little further.

"I'll trust your judgment, then." Raine tucked the towel into itself to secure it around her chest. Considered reaching up to take over drying her hair, but changed her mind, instead left it to Solomon. If he wanted to, it suited her to let him, and before long her eyes were half closed. In a moment more she actually did lean a little bit back, not so much that she'd overbalance if Solomon decided to move, but enough to make actual contact. "I'm sure you'd have noticed."

"I've noticed a lot of things," Solomon said blandly, shifting forward just a touch so that 'little bit' of a lean became a proper one up against his chest. He shifted her hair over one of her shoulders so he had the room to turn it over and over in the towel, carding his fingers through it so as to keep it from knotting while he dried it. His movements were slow, almost languorous, but certainly paying due attention to practically every strand.

Never let it be said Solomon couldn't make love at a woman in more ways than just the modern crude and obvious.

He had to give Shudder credit--while he might regret that particular fragrance in his own hair later on, it suited Raine, whatever it was. "I'm quite good at noticing things, in fact."

Raine was perfectly happy to stay there, resting against his chest, for the foreseeable future, though she did ruefully acknowledge to herself that eventually it would become impractical. But for now she could feel his warmth, and his voice when he spoke, and she was content. "I don't doubt it," she said, and made a mental note to shorten her hair when she got the chance. As pleasant as this was, in the long run practicality had to win out.

Curiosity also won out, as it ever did, and within another moment or two Raine gave in, asked, "And what other things have you noticed?"

"For one thing," Solomon said, "you have lovely hair." Though he preferred it shorter, for practical aesthetic reasons--Raine was a practical woman, and shorter hair as a practicality suited her better. Solomon spread some of it across the towel, gently teasing out the knots. It was a unique colour, too--not an aged sort of grey, but a purer white that was almost blue.

"For another thing," Solomon murmured against her head, close to her ear, "you have very skillful hands." He was close enough that she ought to be able to feel the rumble of his voice in his chest, and the air from his breath brush her skin.

Even at a murmur she could feel the resonance of Solomon's voice. Raine had closed her eyes fully by now, relaxing against Solomon, but in retrospect that proved to be something of a tactical misstep, as it left her nothing to focus on but his touch, and the sound of him, and her breath caught again, not entirely steady.

It seemed every time she did relax he managed to catch her some variant of off-guard, even when she should have expected something, and it was the littlest things that unbalanced her most. Raine stared at the opposite wall, all her mind still on Solomon regardless, and hummed a quiet, pleased note. "Thank you," she said, and, a little dryly, added after, "I'll make a note of your observations."

"I'm sure you will." Solomon smiled and kissed the tip of her pointed ear, and then stepped away, one hand lingering on her back so she didn't fall once her support was gone. He took back the towel, damp from her hair though it was; he had air-dried somewhat, but he still needed the towel.

He was still wearing that smile as he turned away to towel himself off, paying special care to the padded bracelets, and wring out his own hair, now slick with the damp but too long for his taste. "I wonder," he murmured, "whether Shudder has some scissors lying around."

There hadn't been any in the cabinet and there were unlikely to be any in the bedroom, so it was probably too much to ask. Solomon checked anyway, though his hopes went unanswered.

Raine steadied herself, and brushed her fingers absently across the spot he'd kissed; that particular sensation was still relatively foreign. There was a warmth in her chest, easily identified as fondness, and she gazed after him for a moment before shaking herself. Still practicalities to attend to.

She twisted her hair up, off her neck, since it was long enough to mostly stay, and went to retrieve the robe Solomon had set aside, earlier. Without the foresight of bringing extra clothing -- a day or two she had expected, a year less so -- laundry was just as in order as a pair of scissors. "I suspect there's something suitable somewhere in the Hotel," Raine said, when it became clear Solomon was not finding that which he thought. "However, it may require outright asking Anton, as I doubt anyone was quite that prepared. I take it you're impatient to remedy the remainder of the year's worth of growth?"

Solomon grumbled wordlessly at the idea of asking Shudder for further help, though as a practical matter there was really no choice. He abandoned the search and moved to his clothes to dress, not precisely lingering but not hurrying in his dressing so as to give Raine as much opportunity to watch him as he'd had to watch her.

"I am," he admitted, but since that wasn't an option quite yet he instead bound it in a tight plait--it was long enough for that, unfortunately. He glanced at Raine. "If you'd like to stay in the dressing-gown, I can take your clothes down to be washed and then return to keep you company."

He spoke innocently. Of course he did.

[EVENT] A NEW WORLD ORDER

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