Teahouse. - Ground Floor.
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Saerrael on 15-02-2011, 02:41:08</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>15-02-2011, 02:41:08</strong>
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				<em>Once upon a time, in the country of Ivore, there was a little brothel called <strong>The Teahouse.</strong></em> <div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/ee/Teahouseicon.png)</div><br><br>In its buzzing, busy, crowded capital city, a street could be found like there were many. Many a courier, on duty to bring messages from one building to another, or even from one end of the district to the other, sped by. Pedestrians strolled casually along, enjoying the sun of a new spring. Carriages would either ride through the street, or, now and then, stop at shops, houses and a very specific building that was only known as the Teahouse.<br>If one knew this specific building held a brothel, and there were plenty who knew, one wouldn't be surprised of what came out of such carriages. And how often.<br>The rich, the famous, the bored. Those were who visited this place. Those who either didn't care who saw them or cared maybe a bit too much to be seen.<br><br>As spring had started and had decorated many a tree with pinks, purples and fragile whites, so had the clientèle and cash-flow of the brothel bloomed. Ryan Valentine, keeper, Master and protector of the Teahouse had nothing at all to worry about for once. Life was good. Not that he relaxed. Afterall, things could, and probably would, change at the drop of a hat.<br>Reclining, quite casually, in the common room, sipping his tea while thumbing through last years numbers, this near giant of a man did at least appear to be relaxed.<br>Only now and then would he allow his concentration to be broken to look around and view his surroundings, pondering somewhat about these people he both cared for, protected and used.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>15-02-2011, 03:07:26</strong>
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				Much like the Master of the House, Anel was having a pleasant start to the day.<br><br>Satisfied customers meant a fat wallet, and a secure place at the brothel, both of which in turn meant he lived a rather wonderful life in his opinion. As the day was young and thus, most customers either still busy with the other whores or as yet to arrive, he had placed his more casual attire upon his slender frame and waltzed gracefully down the long flight of stairs from the floor above to the ground.<br><br>A large, black baggy jumper hung loosely upon his upper half, the shoulders occasionally slipping down over soft and elegant shoulders and his lower half was barely covered with a pair of simple navy blue shorts that ghosted his upper thighs. Upon his feet he wore a simple pair of black fluffy slippers that skidded slightly over the fine carpet with each step he took and his long hair (as always hung loose in it's gentle waves down the small of his back.<br><br>"Mmm... Tea..." He chimed softly as he swung his hips to enter the common room, humming quietly to himself. he seemed to not notice the others in the room as he made a beeline for the tray upon which various drinks rested, picking up a rather large light pink cup in both hands with a heavy sigh, taking an experimental sip. "Ah... Great." He said with a firm nod, turning then to the main room, blinking slowly as he regarded Mr Valentine, a small and only slightly forced smile coming to his features as he tilted his head downward in a small show of respect.<br><br>"Oh, g;morning Master Valentine... I didn't notice you were here..." He mentally sighed; now it would be rude of him to simply leave and head back to his room as he nearly always did. Interruptions in his normal schedule... Still, Ryan was the boss and as such, Anel chose to remain and slid upon one of the numerous couches, stretching his body luxuriously over the soft fabric.<br><br>Not being one for forced conversation (or indeed, any conversation) Anel simply lapsed into silence, ankles crossing as they hung over the arm of the couch. perhaps it was bad form to be so relaxed in front of one's boss... But when had the boy ever shown manners that were genuine?
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				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>15-02-2011, 04:31:03</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Not everyone in the Teahouse was having a good morning.<br><br>The sudden slam of Zara's (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98038.msg4257703#msg4257703) door signaled that the girl was not only awake...she was in one of her moods. The flighty whore was an enigma to even herself sometimes; it could be sunny and beautiful outside and she would be in the worst of moods. Just the same, it could be pouring rain outside and she could be chipper and whistling a tune. She truly was a slave to her emotions. Only two things made her happy: Clients. And...a certain someone.<br><br>"All I wanted was for my pink corset to be ready!" She fumed in a throaty voice, storming down the hallway, her black hair cascading along her exposed back. "It's the newest one and Monsieur Louis promised it would be ready by today!" Her hazel eyes snapped as she turned her head to look at the servant who was following her with a pained expression on her face. "You need to call him! Tell him I want the pink corset by TODAY!" She clenched her hands into fists, her chest rising and falling as she glared daggers at the servant, "NO EXCUSES!"<br><br>Out of the corner of her eye she caught movement in the common room and when she turned, her eyes flickered in confusion before she tilted her head slightly. Oh. She had an audience. Running her tongue along her lower lip, Zara suddenly lowered her eyes as she looked at Master Ryan and said in a soft tone, "Hello, Master Ryan." A shy smile danced across her lips before she quickly pursed them, as if not wanting anyone to know what she was thinking. "I..." Her eyes looked unfocused for a bit, as if she had lost her train of thought before she gave her head a slight shake, "I think I'm going to--"<br><br>Without finishing her sentence, Zara turned and made her way towards the room that housed the piano, her peach dress swaying as she quickly made her way towards the instrument. She did not even bother to acknowledge Anel, who was in the same room as the Master of the house. There was a sudden purpose in her eyes, knowing that playing the piano would help express her emotions. Her fingertips gently graced the smooth surface before she sat down and closed her eyes, absorbing herself quickly in the countless songs she knew by heart.<br><br>It would be wise to be on her best behavior. She truly hated upsetting Master Ryan.</span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>15-02-2011, 04:38:38</strong>
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				Mornings usually found Atticus awake at an early hour, long before the Master of the house needed him. It was when Atticus trained, keeping the skills Master Ryan required of him sharp. For two hours, he was at the dubious mercy of one of the city’s finest (and more expensive) swordmasters, Felix Bradoon, moving slowly through patterns with a lead-weighted sword until his muscles burned and sweat beads slid down his bare torso. <br><br>Only then would the swordmaster let him have a live sword, and they would spar at full speed, the sound of their fight ringing out through the lush garden. Atticus wondered if any of the patrons complained about the noise disturbing them, but Master Ryan never mentioned it.&nbsp; <br><br>After several long fights that he always seemed to lose, Swordmaster Bradoon would sit in the gazebo, enjoying the breakfast the Teahouse servants had laid out for him and read aloud the broadsheet while Atticus strained and struggled through the required number of push-ups, sit-ups and whatever other tortures his trainer thought up.&nbsp; When he ran out of interesting articles and the church bells rang out the eighth hour, the white-haired man would stand and Atticus would drag himself upright, walking the man to the stables as if he was showing a client to the door after a long night. Once he was gone, Atticus would dunk his head in the rain barrel, then drag his sore body back to the main building. <br><br>So it was this morning. Atticus struggled to tug on a shirt, knowing that some patron or client might be coming to or fro, but it was all the energy he could find to slide his arms into the correct sleeves. It hung open, a long, broad bar of his chest and midriff bared, the tails tailing down his thighs. His sword belt also was too much, and he simply carried it and the sheathed sword attached to it in his left hand. <br><br>Tired and sore though he was, he was smiling, the exertion of the labour a satisfying sensation. In its own way, it felt better than sex, though nothing could replace that sweetest of releases. He missed it, craved it, after abstaining for close to half a year now. His whole time at the Teahouse. <br><br>It was surreal to think he had the freedom to actually choose his bed partners now. He wondered how someone would go about it, then put it from his mind. He didn’t know Master Ryan’s opinions of interhouse liaisons,&nbsp; and wouldn’t risk his position until he did. Seeing how little free time he had, perusing someone outside the Teahouse would be difficult if not impossible, so he knew he was dependant on Master Ryan’s decision. He still belonged to the brothel, though his use was changed. <br><br>His hand want to his eyepatch, making sure it was secure before walking into the main building through the servant’s door, picking up a croissant from the breakfast tray. <br><br>“Take that to the Common Room, would you Atti?” Cook said, sounding flustered. “Mavis is pulling your bath and I don’t know where the others have scampered to!”<br><br>“Of course,” Atticus said after swallowing the pastry. “Master Bradoon sent his compliments, by the way. He wants to seduce you and keep you all to himself.”<br><br>She tutted and flapped a cloth at him to shoo him away, and he left the kitchens still smiling, carrying the tray one-handed through the narrow corridors to the larger hallway, then into the Common Room. <br><br>His eyes flicked around the room, going to Zara first for she attracted the most attention, playing the baby grand beautifully. Then his gaze snapped to Master Ryan, lingering for several of Zara’s notes then finally going to Anel. “Good morning,” he said to the room at large, offering the young whore the first pick of the pastries as he was closest. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>15-02-2011, 05:22:29</strong>
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				The very instant the distant bang of the door was heard, Anel winced and sighed heavily, a grimace crossing his features. Only one person made sure an irritating racket and sure enough, the woman's tones came violently down the stairs, to which the young whore made a small sound of distaste, placing his tea on the elegant table beside the couch he lounged on.<br><br>"Bloody woman... Making the tea taste bad..." He grumbles, dark blue eyes flicking to the entrance for the room through which she entered, a snide snicker passing between his lips at the way in which she seemed to stumble over her feet as she realised the Master was present. <br><br>Anel didn't understand why she, and indeed others, seemed to dance around Ryan's very presence; he personally knew he did good work, would do whatever was asked of him and as such he felt no need to give Mr Valentine any special treatment... Save for the politeness, which was something to note from the rather bratty young man.<br><br>He was relieved when Zara left him alone; the woman annoyed him and the less he had to deal with her the-<br><br>And suddenly his day improved. The pleasant sight of the bodyguard entering with his shirt open no less was something to be thankful for, and a small smile played upon pink lips as Anel turned onto his stomach, legs bending at the knee to wave through the air. "Why, hello there." He purred silkily, casting a brief look to the Master.<br><br>It was unclear whether or not the man was possessive of his bodyguard or not, and while Anel was a brat, he was not a fool and as such, didn't wish to push his luck... But oh, that open shirt...<br><br>"Thank you very much." He added lightly, humming as he reached out to pat the muscular man's hand lightly, slender fingertips lingering a moment longer than necessary. "-But I must watch my figure... I'd be no use to the House if I got all fat; I don't work out like you do..." And he wasn't going to start.<br><br>Anel rather loathed physical labour. "How are you on this lovely morning? By that I mean, how are we all?". He lightly cleared his throat; he didn't mean that, but... Best to remain polite.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>15-02-2011, 05:27:29</strong>
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				It was the sound of Anel's slippers that alerted him that the House was coming back to life again. Though he did not lay away the great book he was still thumbing through while seated on the chaise longe, nor did he do more then raise his gaze up and grimace at the boy's attire before turning his attention back to the numbers.<br><br>"You should pay more attention to what you wear...," he said quietly, flipping a page to turn April last year into May "Even if one relaxes, one can still be presentable. Who knows who might barge in."<br><br>It was then that he heard Zara's exclamation, and he couldn't help but smirk a bit. She was right, though, to demand her attire to be ready at the time she would wish to wear it. After all, what he just said to Anel was important to a whore's life. Looking good was half the job done. If one felt in need of pink, one should have it available.<br><br>He raised his gaze again, meeting the eyes that unfocused, a hint of a smile playing over his sharp features. He didn't say anything, though, merely watched her, smile becoming more apparent at her actions.<br><br>These two.. Anel, a price to hold and, in time when someone bid enough, to sell. And Ryan had made damn sure the more rich of his clientèle knew of his virginity, so it was only a matter of time.<br>Zara, with her moods so unpredictable he actually liked her as a person, which was rare. Aside the sheer fact she pulled in quite the cash-flow on her own.<br><br>Atticus entering, however, made him lay down his book, finally, and roll his eyes. Quite the show of disproval from a man like Ryan.<br>"At least button up, Atticus," he said, tone of voice a bit louder then usual. "You're making the whores excited," he added, now slightly grinning.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>15-02-2011, 06:15:46</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Her fingertips stumbled as she heard <em>his</em> voice, her heart clenching in her chest. No matter what, the sound of his voice always did that to her. But just as quickly as they stumbled, a beautiful, serene smile came over her face and she continued playing like it had never happened. She was used to it by now. The very first time she had heard his voice, she had been speechless. Unable to even think before she had been escorted to her room and she had been left alone.<br><br>Now...aside from the small flub, she was immune to it. She had to be...he didn't love her back.<br><br>Actually...he didn't even notice how she looked at him. And with that lone thought, Zara's music turned into a sentimental piece which spoke of the hidden desire in her hearts. It was full of the longing she felt and also the hope. The hope that one day...he would see her as more than just a whore.</span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>15-02-2011, 06:48:54</strong>
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				Atticus’ eyebrows lifted at Anel’s out of character politeness. He hadn’t had much call to interact with the youth very often, nor with many of the whores really, but he knew enough about them from seeing them interact with others and gossip he overheard to know them enough. Being nice was something he’d never heard Anel being accused of. <br><br>The lingering touch told Atticus what was behind the unusual display. He couldn’t hold back a brief grin. It wasn’t usual for whores to seek companionship on their off hours – not in the lower class establishments, anyway, where three of four clients were seen each night. That was a weary way of life, and one Atticus was pleased to have escaped, even if it meant the Lamb In Briars. Fewer clients but harder work. Here at&nbsp; the Teahouse, however... it was so very relaxed. And why not when one fuck here cost as much as a dozen at The Brazen Bard or The Folded Kerchief?&nbsp; <br><br>It was very much easier here. He wondered if they knew how lucky they were.<br><br>“As you wish,” the man murmured, not pushing the youth, not trusting the politeness being portrayed. “And I am very well. Sore, but nothing a bath would not mend. Yourself?” <br><br>His question was drowned by Master Ryan’s exasperated order. Atticus stiffened and looked towards the man, then bowed slightly. “Yes sir. It was not my intention.” <br><br>He set the tray down and propped his sword on a couch before starting to button his shirt, one by one, his fingers slow, caressing each bone disk as he slid it through the appropriate hole. He let his fingers linger and drift, though he didn't oversell it, the sensual action not turning comical. A sly smirk curled on his lips, his gaze fixed on the carpet, enjoying himself. The tone of the music didn’t suit his teasing at all, but it couldn’t be helped. He had been a whore for a very long time, and he knew how to catch and hold a client’s attention, and he knew that if he was still as skilled as he had been a few months ago both Anel and Master Ryan would be thinking about this reverse strip-tease for hours. He rarely tried his eye-catchers on those of the Teahouse, as they were either whores themselves or the Master of the house, both who knew and employed such tricks and should, in theory, be immune to them. For Anel to react, just for a bit of skin made Atticus very pleased. He had started at his collar and finished at crotch-level, hands still for a moment before lifting to his chest and smoothing down the fabric in a slow fluid stroke. <br><br>He considered saying something like ‘Better, Sir?’ or some such, maybe even using a ‘do I please you, Master?’ tone but that would be pushing the game too far. Too far indeed. Instead he picked up a cup of tea, cooled almost beyond drinking, and sipped at it while still standing. He was aching to sit down, but he didn’t want to get his sweat of the settees.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 02:07:52</strong>
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				Anel could tell that his facade of politeness failed to enchant Atticus; he would have quite honestly have been shocked if it had. His acts were flawless and perfected through the many months he had worked at the Teahouse, but they would always loose their effect on one who had seen him act behind closed doors, so to speak; useful on clients, not so much on other employees. That being the case, the boy sighed wistfully and turned once again to his back, his attention drifting slightly, now that there was next to zero chance of any 'fun' occurring as a result of the bodyguard's entrance.<br><br>"Oh... Fine..." He replied in a bored tone, his one word answer most likely going unheard as the Master of the House spoke at almost the exact same time. He didn't mind of course; he was quite happy to drift into the background and mutter a few well-timed snipes and such, and so he lapsed into silence, his gaze flicking between Ryan and Atticus, rolling his eyes. It was painfully obvious to him every time he saw the pair together that there <em>must</em> be <em>something</em> beyond a professional relationship between the two, even by the Teahouse's standards...<br><br>If there wasn't, Anel would eat his favorite leather pants... Not that he couldn't buy more of the same, but it was the principle.<br><br>He had picked up the discarded tea from the side table and begun to sip at it when Atticus began the slow and steady show of something of a reverse striptease, and though he kept his gaze light and seemingly uninterested, there was a small smirk hidden behind the rim of the cup as he watched. Anel normally had little in the way of modesty for showing when he approved as something, but when in front of the Master he felt as though he should show at least <em>some</em> degree of class; hence his show of passing interest.<br><br>Still, he didn't fail to notice how the guard's fingers caressed each button, nor how the hands lingered upon the hem of the shirt and once the show was over, he sipped once again at his tea until it was finished, sighing loudly once it was done. Upon placing the cup back upon the table he slowly swung long and bare legs over the couch to stand, raising his arms over his body in order to stretch in a manner that was only slightly longer than was needed. His skin was pale, yet healthy looking and (of course) hairless. He possessed a frame that was extremely slender and shapely; often been mistaken for a feminine figure which amused him endlessly.<br><br>"Well... The Master says, so I shall go and get changed..." There was almost no sarcasm in his tone and he bowed his head lightly towards Ryan in what was the largest show of respect the boy ever used, turning briefly to wrinkle his nose at Zara before turning neatly on his heel and walking from the room. On his way out he paused for a fraction of a second and decided to risk a small grope to Atticus' backside, chuckling as his did so. He knew it might have been taken badly, but really... When had Anel cared for 'what ifs'?<br><br>"I'll be back soon." He chimed, looking over his shoulder with a slow and sultry wink before he entered the main hall with a loud yawn and proceeded to move toward the stairs, his hips swaying in a most provocative manner from side to side with his steps.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Love And Submission</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 02:26:19</strong>
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				For a man who was&nbsp; &nbsp;halfway done writing the greatest cello piece since Dvorak's&nbsp; Cello Concerto in Masato was having a terrible morning. The music world was abuzz with the rumor that he was working a the music world became abuzz it was sure that the newspaper industry wasn't far behind.This was the root of masato's problem , the local newspaper had assigned him his very own reporter. Every morning that reporter went to masato's home and asked the help if there master wad done and every day he was told no and turned away. The constant inquisitions into his progress had begin to plague Masato and brought his work to a screeching halt. As such Masato decided he needed to relax and focus on something other then his work or prying eyes of the local media, he thought that&nbsp; someone at the local brothel could keep him focused on something&nbsp; else for awhile.<br><br><br>Making his way through the crowded city&nbsp; hidden by the hustle of&nbsp; people trying to get to work. Once he made his way to the front , masato took a quick glance over&nbsp; his shoulder&nbsp; to make sure that no one was following him and opened the door. Masato quietly snuck into the brothel and was greeted with the sound of someone tickling the ivory keys. This was not the first thing he wanted to hear at this moment to say the least. Masato was never a fan of the piano , he didn't think it could build the way a string instrument could. The piano just seemed to heavy handed to him and this melody reinforced that idea in masato's opinion. Masato couldn't resist the urge to watch a performance , so he made his way to the doorway of the room the music was coming from and stood there listening to the tune.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 02:31:09</strong>
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				Leaning back on the elegant chaise longe, he allowed the music, the notes, the song Zara wove through the House to wash over him for a few moments, the thought surfacing he should let her play when there were clients in the House and she wasn't entertaining them more personally. The only problem with this would be her ever changing moods. God only knew what she would be playing if her mood changed dramatically.<br><br>His gaze went back to his bodyguard and right-hand man, a light chuckle escaping him at the show Atticus provided. Even if this man was disciplined on one hand, the other would show his past.<br>It made him recall where, when and particularly why he had acquired him. Or.. 'saved' him.<br><br>"Much better,"&nbsp; he said approvingly when Atticus had actually, finally, buttoned up, his tone of voice going back to his usual quietness.<br><br>Anel was back in his old behaviour, he could tell. The small hint of politeness was too thin to not look through, but Ryan decided to not bother and but nodded back at him when he inclined his head at the Master of the House.<br>He knew this boy too well now to not respond to his stretching or his much too well-timed mumbled snipes.<br>Afterall, didn't he bring in his share? And.. would he not fetch a handsome price one day soon for his 'special' state in the brothel?<br>Virgins <em>were</em> expensive to buy for a night..
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				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 03:18:23</strong>
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				Gareth Aldrich was in a fantastic mood today. His early morning business ventures had been paying off splendidly, and he was in the mood to celebrate - and some well-timed financial choices had left him with yet more disposable income. Though he was careful with his money in other things, he spent a great deal on wining and dining people he intended to seduce - or, when he wanted results faster, he visited one of several high-class brothels.<br><br>Today was a good day. He felt like having fun and going for the sure thing more than taking his time seducing one of the several men and women he had waiting for him to call. They'd be waiting there for him later, after all... and therefore, he headed to the Teahouse - a place he knew he could just spend the money at and have a good time guaranteed. <br><br>They knew him there. He visited not entirely infrequently, though his last visit had been some weeks ago. He made appointments occasionally, but it was far more his style to simply show up - he knew someone was usually available. Gender was irrelevant. He could have fun with any of them, or all of them. He brushed at his clothing a bit as he approached the entrance, a mischievous smile on his lips as he let himself in without so much as a knock or a ring of the doorbell, striding into the main hall, the heels of his shoes clicking at the marble floors, the sound echoing through the large hall.<br><br>Gareth caught sight of Anel as he entered, and he grinned faintly, his eyes tracing over the young courtesan, his steps halting as he examined him. He was dressed down, perhaps not working right now. He couldn't hold back a slight chuckle, his eyebrow quirking faintly at the pretty young man, clad in rather casual and unbecoming clothes. <br><br>"... oh Anel. That outfit does not suit you."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 03:34:59</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Eyes were upon her. Zara could feel them even though she kept her eyes closed, enjoying the dramatic ending to her piece. Playing the piano had done what rarely could be done with her emotions; it had soothed them. Now, instead of the anger she had felt earlier or the sadness...there was a sense of serenity that came over her features. As she raised her head up and opened her eyes, there was a glimmer of tears within them before she blinked a few times...and just like that, they were gone.<br><br>Turning to look over her shoulder, her eyes caught sight of the man watching her. Masato Kawazoe.<br><br>Shifting, she slid her feet out from under the piano and stood up, her hazel eyes flicking upwards to caress his face before she bowed her head respectfully. "Master Masato, what a lovely surprise." Her fingertips idly played with the piano keys before she stood up and made her way towards one of the Teahouse client. Once she had come within a few steps from him, she let a smile flutter over her lips, tilting her head slightly, "Have you come to spoil one of us with your time?"<br><br>Her breath stilled when she caught sight of Gareth. And who was he speaking to? None other than Anel. For a split second, her eyes flashed with anger before they quickly disappeared. As if it had never been there.<br><br>Keeping her smile firmly in place -- hoping that she would get a client before Anel -- Zara reached out a hand and gently placed it on Masato's chest, her fingertips caressing his clothing just lightly. "May I ask...who do you wish for, sir?"<br><br>The promise of a good time was evident in her gaze; the gentle touch of her fingertips a soft promise of what else she could touch...and pleasure...with those same gentle motions.</span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 03:48:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anel heard, of course, the echoing footsteps that signalled another's entrance into the main hall, but he assumed it to be another worker and as such paid it no attention. He didn't turn to look back as first one man made his way into the common room, moving swiftly and gracefully up the stairs in hopes that he could steal away to his room and change before anyone important noticed. Not that the Master was not important of course... Clients were simply a different kind of importance.<br><br>The boy had almost reached the top of the stairs when the voice drifted up to his ears and he blinked slowly, Ryan's words fluttering back to him regarding his inappropriate attire and he took a moment to damn the fact that he always seemed to be right about these things before focusing on more important matters.<br><br>He couldn't recognise the voice.<br><br>He paused and frowned deeply, casting about frantically in his mind. He thought of G... Gary? Grendel? Gwen? He mentally cursed, panic filtering to the edges of his mind; it would be a deep show of disrespect to have to ask a client to repeat his name, especially when he himself was recognised from the back, and Master Ryan wasn't known for appreciating complaints... Gareth! Or was it Galeth? Which was it?<br><br>Upon making the decision that it would be rude to face the opposite way for much longer, the boy turned slowly and smiled from his position on the step, moving to descend back to the main floor, keeping his perfected gaze upon Gareth's. His expression was one of smouldering desire, and the manner in which he swayed his hips had been delicately emphasised by the tactful placing of a hand upon the slender bone. While he didn't remember the name, he remembered the man's appearance... And he had certainly had a most wonderful previous appointment with him.<br><br>"Ah... I am terribly sorry that you must find me in such a state, Sir..." He said lightly, tilting his upper body forward in a simple yet elegant bow, standing a respectful distance from the other man, head tilted coyly to one side. Anel recalled that his previous client was somewhat more relaxed than others and as such he stepped a little further forward, running his tongue slowly over his lips. "I'm sure I can make it up to you however, if you so wish... By simply removing said offensive clothes, Mr..."<br><br>There was a brief pause before the identity struck him, and he finished with a sultry wink. "Mr. Aldrich."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 04:03:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When he felt Anel’s hand slid against his rear, Atticus jumped a little, taken by surprise. He smiled at the bold move,&nbsp; enjoying the attention for the moment. He wasn’t often at the centre of it, not these days. And that was exactly how it should be – he was to keep back until the Master or one of the whores needed help. Yet... this small focus was pleasant and unharmful, and when it was from someone so lovely as Anel, Atticus was&nbsp; not going to complain at all.<br><br>He watched the boy walk away, the wink making the bodyguard smirk with amusement. Once he was out of earshot, Atticus turned back to Master Ryan and took a couple of steps towards him. “Master, I was hoping I might speak with you, in private. It is not a pressing issue but it is personal.” He didn’t want the household to know what he wanted to talk to Ryan about, and the rooms were not so private down here that he felt comfortable to speak of what he wished to ask, least the Master refuse. <br><br>Just then, Zara’s playing came to its climax, and as it did Atticus heard the low, amused tones of a man in the hallway. Not any of the whores, but a patron. Coming or going? He turned slightly towards the door, listening and hearing the faint reply of Anel, the words lost in the distance but sounding happy enough. Then, much closer and a lot more clear came Zara’s own voice, welcoming one of their more frequent clients. <br><br>“Do you desire me presentable or simply present, sir?” Atticus asked, wondering if he should go and wash off the smell of sweat or simply stay as he was and make sure the guests minded their manners, though it was rare for a quarrel to happen so early.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 04:08:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Gareth chuckled a bit as he folded his arms across his chest, noting Anel's hesitation in speaking to him as he descended back down the staircase. He figured he had perhaps forgotten his name, but he wasn't terribly offended. He knew Anel saw many others aside from him, and Gareth certainly didn't remember the names of <em>everyone</em> he worked with. He inclined his head slightly, his eyes drifting over Anel slowly before returning back up to his face, quiet for a moment. The music that had been playing when he'd first entered had stopped, but he only barely noticed it. <br><br>"Apology accepted, Anel... and yes, I suppose some time could be saved if you just took them off," Gareth said with a slight grin, his eyes drifting away from the young courtesan for a moment to rest his gaze upon Zara and her potential customer. He'd been briefly considering treating himself to two Teahouse employees at once, but the only other whore he could see currently seemed to be indisposed. His eyes returned to Anel as the boy seemed to be pulling out all the stops to get his patronage, and he chuckled softly again, his grin getting wider as the courtesan finally recalled his name.<br><br>"Ah, you finally remembered," He teased as he approached the base of the stairs, one hand reaching out to caress at the banister suggestively. "Quick. What's my first name? If you can remember, maybe I'll reward you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 04:15:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The Master of the House, technically still relaxing, even while going over the finances, tweaked his ears at mumbling quite nearby. One voice, and a hint of movement not coming from the exact same spot the voice had come, reminding him of cold, hard cash. It even amused <em>him</em> money was his biggest passion, but he didn't pay this trail of thought too much attention for the time being.<br><br>It hadn't passed his attention how Anel had touched, twice even, his bodyguard. It was harmless in his book, the second of his touches quite charming, especially how Atticus responded.<br>Ryan sure was in quite a good mood, seeing humour in situations this morning.<br><br>"Of course, Atticus. But I think I hear two clients, and one of them I recognise by voice alone," he said, standing to his feet and smoothing the black, silken jacket and pants that both bore abundant embroidery of white and silver roses.<br>"It's a bit late, because of this, to let you take a bath. I'm sorry, but this will have to do while I check out what is going on and who has entered the Teahouse."<br><br>He did smell of sweat. Somehow it did not bother Ryan, though. It.. excited him. Almost as much as the promise of money would.<br><br>"Next time, please, have a bath right after training," he concluded, then wandered outside of the common room to find out whom Zara was talking too, as she was closest by.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 04:25:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anel was slightly surprised at the comment that so swiftly met his advances, the faintest hint of an embarrassed pink flush creeping to his cheeks even as he softly cleared his throat and nicely jutted his hips to one side. While his attire at present might have been casual, it was still alluring in it's own right; the way in which the overly large sleeve hung over one slender shoulder, exposing the soft skin, and of course, how the extremely short shorts left little to the imagination.<br><br>"Oh dear..." He murmured, a playful smile forming on his features as he relaxed into the more light side of seduction with Mr. Aldrich, echoing the man's own attitude. "I'm dreadfully sorry if I offended you..." He then trailed off, his eyes sliding briefly to the fingers that played over the smooth banister, boldly placing his own hand atop Gareth's, soft fingers tracing the back of the potential client's hand in an equally seductive (if not more-so) fashion.<br><br>He rather hated been put on the spot in such a way, but he very much wanted whatever reward would be offered by this man. The boy remembered the delightful time they had previously, and he found himself only having to extend his genuine desire slightly for Gareth as he leaned forward, moving onto tiptoe to whisper into the businessman's ear, lips ever so slightly fluttering against the outer shell. "I'd do anything for a reward... Especially for you, Mr. Gareth." <br><br>Lord help him if he was wrong; it was a toss up between Gareth and Galeth, and the latter had simply sounded more name-like. Anel then slowly leaned back, a teasing smile toying upon his lips as he ran his tongue over them slowly. He was certain that he had guess right... Almost.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 04:40:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“Thank you, Master. I apologise for lingering too long, it won’t happen again.” <br><br>The murmur was sincere, Atticus was displeased with himself for being distracted from his bath, even though it was a pleasant pastime he should have remembered his position. He picked up his belt and fastened it at his hips, knowing he looked less than his usual, some mud clinging to his worn boots, his hair only partially dry, not to mention the sweat he had worked up... <br><br>He followed behind Master Ryan at a respectable distance, eyes fixed on the guest , the composer he had heard Master Bradoon mention in his perusal of the broadsheet – a mister Kawazoe.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 04:43:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Humming and swaying to music only she could hear a copper haired young woman left the Teahouse's extensive gardens, having spent her morning in her current favorite manner, that of curled up beneath a large tree with the sunshine dappling through the canopy while she devoured a novel. The story had been decent, satisfying to her though the plot could have been more thought out perhaps, a few holes could be seen in it. Most people hadn't grown up with a author as a father and a scholar as a mother though and she was forgiving of the flaws she found in her reading so long as the character's were well written. They had been and so her mood was as sunny as the day, a soft, elusive smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she shut the door to the outside behind her and smoothed down her skirts. It wouldn't do to walk through the Teahouse at any time with grass lingering on her clothing; day or night, both times of 'day' clients could come a calling. <br><br>Fiona made straight for one of the powder rooms that lay on the ground floor, wanting to make sure that her clothing held no lasting issues from her morning in the gardens. Leisure time was allowed within reason so long as one came when called for a house line up and did not miss appointments with patrons, however she had standards she held herself to about how she appeared and would hate for any client to find her lacking for her morning's delight. Luckily she made it to the powder room with no issues and slipped inside, setting her book down on the marble counter before the mirror, attention going to her reflection. <br><br>A slight marred her brow as she studied herself, shaking out her full skirts, which on today's gown was made mostly of layer upon layer of delicate tulle in a soft seagreen that held something in common with the color of her pale bluegreen eyes. Her bodice was boned, seeming almost like a corset, with little butterflies 'fluttering' up it, winking small stones accenting their wings. Her gown showed no grass or leaves though and her long copper hair seemed as perfectly in place as it had been that morning when she pinned it half up, even the little rosebuds she had worked into the hairstyle still fresh. Fi smiled then and picked up her book before leaving the powder room, wondering if any of the other's would be in the mood for conversation; with the others there was no knowing. <br><br>As she neared the main hall though she heard the voices of two men who had been here before, talking to Anel and Zara it seemed and she paused, still out of direct line of sight of any of them and not wishing to intrude. Her eyes moved to the stairs, considering simply going back to her rooms or seeking out the Master of the House to find out if there was anything he required of her in particular today. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 04:48:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"We'll speak in private later, Atticus. And.. I don't mind you smelling the way you do at this moment in time," he mumbled under his breath when they were close enough to each-other so his words couldn't be heard by anyone else, his gaze already fixing on the patron before him. It seemed Zara had everything under control here, but he wouldn't let anything be out of any type of order.<br><br>He inclined his head slightly and smiled at Masato Kawazoe, the cellist.<br>"Welcome back to the Teahouse, Mister Kawazoe," he said in his normal quiet way "I'd like to know if there is anything I could offer during your stay here." not leaving doubt that he would, in fact, have a stay here.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Love And Submission</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 05:10:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Spoil? No no , I spoil most of my time on the ears of commoners but such is the life of any great composer.Compared to to what I've been doing the last two days , This is a splendid use of my time. I've spent the last two days in my study trying my best to keep my mind off of a reporter who thinks it's his occupation to cling to my work like a spider clings to a wall." Masato informed Zara as his eyes darted through the room over her shoulder. It appeared as though masato was looking for someone or something."As for who I wish to find,&nbsp; I wish for a bartender. I could use a stiff drink. Barring that however , I wish to find the red head who graces this tea house with her presence. I've just finished one of her father's books and would consider it an honor to talk to her about it as well as enjoying other things in her company. Have you seen her recently , Zara?" Masato asked with abit of nervousness in his tone, Zara had a reputation for being quite the emotional person. He Took a few steps back away from Zara's wandering hands as master Ryan made his presence known to them.<br><br>"Ah yes , Master Ryan. I was just asking Zara here where the author's daughter is. I'm hoping to engage her in a flight of fancy this morning and would appreciate your help on&nbsp; locating her."Masato asked politely as he situated himself in&nbsp; such that he was standing behind Master Ryan. The man was tall enough to&nbsp; be used as a human shield and Masato felt that he could use one at the moment.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 05:12:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Gareth leaned in slightly as Anel leaned forward to whisper to him, the grin not leaving his lips as he cocked his head, listening intently to the words whispered in his ear. The grin grew wider as he drew back slightly, seemingly very amused by the fact that Anel was able to remember his name when pressed about the issue.<br><br>"Ahhh, very good," he chuckled a bit, reaching a hand up to gently brush a strand of hair away from Anel's face with his fingers, tucking it softly behind his ear. He leaned in and pressed a teasing kiss to Anel's lips, gently biting at his lower lip as he withdrew, not clarifying whether or not that was his reward. He drew back a bit further, smirking as he glanced over slightly at the house Master and the other patron, allowing Anel's hand to rest on top of his for now.<br><br>"... as much as I'd love just following you upstairs right now I suppose it would be polite to wait for the Master, wouldn't it?" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 05:21:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anel bowed his head lightly in response to the small degree of praise, blinking slowly as a rogue strand of brilliant blond hair was tucked behind an ear, a mischievous smile curling to his lips as he raised a hand, deftly flicking it back to dangle teasingly over his cheeks. The same light pink lips had parted slightly in order to make some roguish comment when they were taken in the abrupt kiss which was (of course) returned happily, a light purring sound emitting from the boy's throat in response before he gasped in an overly loud fashion at the gentle bite.<br><br>"Now, now... You'll be charged extra for taking that before the price was agreed... Not that money is any object for you, Mr. Gareth." He purred, placing his hands upon the man's shoulders to in turn snake them around to clasp together behind his neck, nicely pressing his body against Gareth's. A small tut passed between his lips at the idea of waiting for the Master before he chuckled lightly and nodded towards one of the several couches that lined the walls, winking lightly.<br><br>"Of course... Might i suggest that while we wait... We sit and I could... Perhaps give you a pleasant massage? i can only imagine how stressful your day must have been." He frowned, a look of exaggerated sadness coming to his features as his fingertips ventured outwards to brush teasingly over the man's neck.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 05:24:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Redhead. Not black. Redhead.<br><br><em>Fiona</em>, a voice hissed in her head as her hazel eyes slowly darkened to flashes of anger, hurt and embarrassment. She dropped her hand and stepped away from Masato as if he was suddenly distasteful. She spared him a brief glace as she said acidly, "Do I look like her keeper? Her nose is probably buried in a book...the only useful thing she does..." She opened her mouth to add another insult when the sight of Master Ryan registered and she snapped her mouth shut.<br><br>Zara could do a lot of things but disrespecting the clients? Major No no.<br><br>Her hazel eyes flashed towards the Master of the house before she bowed her head respectfully, "This..." she hesitated before she continued, the sarcasm in her tone evident, "<em>client</em> wishes for another." Without waiting for Ryan to chastise her or reprimand her for her rudeness, she turned on her heels and began to make her way towards the stairs, intent to go to her room.<br><br>At the last minute her eyes found Atticus...and lingered.<br><br>But then she looked away, flashing Gareth a flirtatious smile as she murmured in a soft, seductive tone, "Master Gareth...a pleasure to see you, always..." Sparing a small glance at Anel -- staring daggers, really -- Zara felt her blood boiling. She needed to make it to her room...Now.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 05:30:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Inside the Master of the House was laughing when the cellist basically moved so he was positioned between Zara and himself. He knew all too well Zara's emotional state, and how they could change quite rapidly, and lowered his eyes to meet hers while she was, most probably, contemplating the cellist had no interest in her this morning.<br><br>Perhaps it was the fact she did not wore her pink corset....<br><br>"I'm afraid I have I not seen Fiona as of yet, Mister Kawazoe," he said, while keeping his eyes on Zara for a few moments longer, then looked over his shoulder "I could send for a servant to get you both your drink and the company of your interest."<br><br>Only slowly he turned his attention back to Zara. Her tone and words were enough to get her punished. The cellist might not wish for her, that did not mean she could treat him like this.<br><br>"Yes. He does," he said, gaze lowering a bit more so shadow fell over his eyes when she dared to walk out, gaze following her before he physically did, leaving Atticus with mister Kawazoe.<br><br>"You shall not speak to a client in this manner, Zara. I suggest you offer mister Kawazoe an apology..," he said low, colouring of his voice darkening.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 05:34:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Tsh... you would charge me extra for a kiss?" Gareth smirked as he inclined his head slightly at Anel, tracing his fingertip gently down his cheek before withdrawing from him slightly. He chuckled a little at Anel's offer of a massage, glancing slightly over at the couches from the corner of his eye before his gaze returned. <br><br>"Oh yes, <em>so</em> stressful," He answered with a sly grin, clearly exaggerating. It was part of the game he and Anel tended to play, teasing each other back and forth, very little of their banter very genuine from either side. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Zara's sudden appearance. <br><br>He turned his head slightly towards the brunette, grinning as he quietly enjoyed all of the perks having money afforded him. People certainly never competed for his attention like this before he had money. At times it bothered him, but for now he was enjoying the fact that the courtesans were not-so-subtly vying for his affection. <br><br>"A pleasure to see you as well, Miss Zara," Gareth said with a slight grin, before his gaze lifted towards Ryan, a playful smirk on his lips as he couldn't help overhearing the admonishment he gave the woman. He looked back at her, winking. "... I suppose you had better deal with that. Don't want the Master upset with you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 05:40:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Eavesdropping was not something she was in the habit of doing, truly normally it never even occurred to the redhead; but standing where she was, able to observe most of the ground floor and how others interacted, with parts of the conversation carried she found herself feeling almost as if she were invisible. Her lips tugged with a smile at the thought, that would have been a proper thing to play at with her father, he would have been amused, heaven rest his soul. Still she supposed it was true, that old saying that when one did so you always heard something negative about oneself. <br><br>This time it came in the form of Zara's response to the request by the cellist for her company. Her cheeks tinged with a blush, as fair as her skin was it would be hard pressed not to and she stepped backward a touch more, glad to be where she was, hidden in the shadows of one of the hallways for the moment to collect herself. She was skilled in plenty of things outside of reading, she had a strong client base she believed, and then there was her dancing, writing and scholar work. But this was the world she had chosen to live in, aware of its sharpness, aware of the darkness that it held because it offered her a way to write without fear of starving. Zara would hopefully forgive her for being chosen over her; perhaps she could offer to design a new corset for the other woman. <br><br>Such mulling thoughts though had no place when she heard Master Ryan's voice; Fiona bit her lower lip, glancing down at herself and at the book she still held in her hand before shrugging. The patron had come here looking for a discussion about at least one of her father's books if not more, it would not be an issue to appear with a book in hand no? And there was the fact that it was very much a part of her, and part of why certain clients enjoyed her company. Zara played the piano with a talent Fiona envied, and Fiona was the 'scholarly' one.<br><br>With one last brush to her skirt and intake of breath she glided into the open area of the ground floor, her footsteps light and only whispers against the gleaming floor. She almost stopped when she realized that to get to the man who requested her it would take her in direct path into Zara and the Master. Outwardly she showed no sign of her moment of worry, though she did move slower, very much there but seeming to glide along with no purpose as if she were only by chance strolling.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 05:49:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atticus couldn’t hold back a small smile as Zara snarled in the man’s face at being rejected – he had a lot more grace about it than any client Atticus had known, but Zara was born to privilege, and even this gently spurning must bruise her. The smile was hidden quickly as the client used Master Ryan as a barrier and Zara fled. <br><br>He could feel the annoyance pouring off Master Ryan, and wasn’t surprised when he followed swiftly after her. Atticus offered the musician a small, polite bow and stepped to a side, gesturing to the Common Room. “If you would like to wait in here, sir, you will be more comfortable.” He wasn’t required to act as a host, but with Master Ryan so unhappy it wouldn’t do to add any more to it.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 05:49:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Flames of fury and pain filled her eyes as she turned and took a step close to the Master of the house. She would apologize to no one! Her eyes looked up at him, full of the emotions welling up inside of her before she took it a step further and placed her hands on his chest, touching. A tiny shudder ran down her spine at the physical contact.<br><br>Her voice was low -- she dare NOT raise her voice at Master Ryan -- as she hissed, "I will <em>not</em>! How dare he pick her over me!" She swallowed the tirade she was about to dive into when she heard Gareth. She looked at Gareth and then at Ryan, feeling suddenly...overwhelmed. <em>Why were they ganging up on her?!</em><br><br>Clenching her hands into fists, she grabbed her skirts and moved back towards Masato, her eyes ice cold. "My apologies," She said in an emotionless tone, "I did not mean to offend." Her smile was cruel as she added, "May you have a <em>wonderful</em> conversation with her about...literature." The last word was said slightly mocking.<br><br>Bowing her head once more, Zara turned and made her way back towards Ryan, her voice trembling with emotion as she whispered, "Does that satisfy you...Sir?" Her hazel eyes raised themselves up to his, a desperate need to receive his approval clearly showing inside of them.<br><br>But everything changed when she caught sight of Fiona, Zara turned her head and when she saw Fiona&nbsp; her eyes narrowed. Her smile was almost...too sweet...as she called out, "Well well well...here she comes now." Her voice held an edge as she spoke, "You've been summoned."<br><br>The emotions that bounced back and forth within Zara were normal for the girl. After all, she had dealt with them all her life. If someone were to truly focus on them, they would surely tire of the ping-pong style of mood swings that she let rule her. But for Zara...it was simply the way she behaved and interacted with people.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 06:01:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Oh, how difficult it was for Anel to resist the urge to burst into laughter at the complete fool Zara was making of herself. In front of two clients and the Master, no less. Truly, it was a rare and wonderful sight for the boy to behold, and only Gareth (being the one who Anel remained facing) would notice the way in which his lips twitched as he tried to contain a smile.<br><br>"Goodness, the room suddenly because crowded and rather noisy..." He mused lightly, moving his arms slowly from about Gareth's neck, looking briefly to Zara with a small frown. While it was hilarious, the woman had completely ruined the mood and she was possibly damaging the whole brothel's (and therefore his) reputation... It wouldn't do.<br><br>"Pardon me, Master Ryan... If it is quite alright with you, and of course, good Mr Gareth, might myself and him be excused?" He smiled lightly, his professional facade shining through rather wonderfully when compared to Zara at that point. "Of course, there will be no business without prior arrangement but..."<br><br>A flicker of a snide smirk crossed his features before he turned back to Gareth. "It might be more pleasant in a more quiet atmosphere... Perhaps the offered massage can be my way of apologising for the unsightly display...?" He looked to the Master for a moment, then to Gareth, a smile curling upon his lips. "If it is acceptable to you, of course..."<br><br>When he wanted to be... Anel could be so very smooth.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Love And Submission</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 07:05:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Masato thanked atticus for the offer to the common room but Masato's interest in Zara was growing by the moment. Perhaps that little shoe she was putting on wasn't as damaging to the teahouse's reputation&nbsp; as some of the others might of thought. The famous composer&nbsp; made his way down the hall to discuss something with master Ryan , hopefully out of earshot from the rest of the group who was this spectacle with amusement.&nbsp; "Since I'm a gentleman and it appears as thou I've offended the lady , Master Ryan. How about I purchase both of them for the morning? Between my performances and my music sheets , I've racked up quite the fortune so cost is of no difference to me.In my opinion the success of the deal rests solely on your shoulders." The young cellist offered up twice the payment as a small devilish grin crossed his lips. Zara seemed like the sort of person who could be fun to rile up and as a musician that was masato's domain. His job was to incite emotions in his listeners and&nbsp; he did a masterful job at it."As for my drink , I'll take a mint jubilee and whatever the ladies feel like having." Masato's responded to Ryan's earlier offer while trying his best to restrain&nbsp; himself from giggling. Zara could be quite the comedian when she was angry and he know she would be rather angry at his offer.<br><br><br><br><br>Upon finishing his order , Masato turned to Fiona with a smile."Perhaps we should take a seat in the common room while Master Ryan and Zara discuss my proposition."He asked as he admired the red heads lovely , his heart fluttering slightly from anticipation&nbsp; as he surveyed the woman&nbsp; while waiting for her response.<br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 11:13:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atticus frowned slightly, perplexed as the guest refused to take brief refuge in the quiet room, when he had moments before shied away from a mere verbal attack, and simply mumbled something that vaguely sounded like a ‘thank-you’ if the speaker were too lazy to move his tongue.&nbsp; <br><br>Instead, he followed Master Ryan into the hallway. Atticus narrowed his eyes and followed after him, not understanding the client’s conflicting actions. For all that the man was a coward, taking refuge behind Master Ryan when Zara started to snarl, he was swift to wedge himself back into the fray once those who were part of it had moved away. It was very odd behaviour, and Atticus felt unimpressed with the composer.&nbsp; First causing the argument, then trying to take control of it by waving money... imbecile. <br><br>Now there were two guests bearing witness to Zara’s dissention, making the situation even messier. How had the morning turned foul so quickly? <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>16-02-2011, 18:58:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The cutting remark about literature as a conversational point did not miss Fiona's ears and the thought of offering to design a corset for the other woman seemed perhaps a foolish one. Clearly Zara cared little to nothing about her. Still Fiona did not let her features show her concern, hurt or the feeling of being defensive about literature and its values, it was something she would always be proud to be passionate about. After all it was something that her parents had given to her. Her slender throat worked, eyes lowering for a moment as if she were lost in her own thoughts; Zara's gaze found her then and ruined that, making her eyes come back up, the pale aquamarine friendly and concerned. <br><br>"Summoned? I hope I have not been tardy I wasn't aware we were called for a line up." Her words were softly spoken, as if she hadn't heard the conversation that had come before. It was part of 'pretend' perhaps, to seem as if she didn't notice the high emotions of the others, the unhappiness in Zara's eyes that was directed at her. But it was part of what made her able to do this job with as much sweetness and elegance as possible. It was a part of her. <br><br>She wasn't a feather brain by any means though and her eyes flashed to Masato when he moved in, offering to hire both her and Zara at the same time. That, she feared, would only end in disaster and with another graceful incline of her neck she dipped a slight curtsy to the client. "I fear that such an arrangement would be unwise good Sir, as Zara and I are both of such differing personalities and styles when entertaining." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Love And Submission</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 01:07:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Unwise? Surely. Childish? Exceptionally. Foolish? Most likely but perhaps that is the point.&nbsp; I have spent the majority of my life sharing my genius with fools who&nbsp; have come to my shows out of lust or want.&nbsp; They lust for and want to hear my music. There is no other reason to come to my show is there? Yet a composer such as myself shall not&nbsp; be allowed to take the same action as his admirers? I disagree. A man&nbsp; has the right to act recklessly and arrogant from time to time , To pursue his desires with no concern&nbsp; for&nbsp; the reactions of others yet life be boring and mundane&nbsp; The foolish man is not the one parted with his wealth, the foolish man is the one who is afraid to part with his wealth because of public opinion. Isn't that the one of&nbsp; reasons why this place does so well? Businessmen who are expected to be the smartest people in&nbsp; the room get to act like naive children going after the prettiest girl in class? Stupidity is a wonderful stress relaxer." Masato offered his retort to Fiona as he took the drink he had ordered from one of the servants who came to serve him. The cellist&nbsp; had no trouble admitting he was being imbecilic but he would have a hard time admitting it wasn't fun. That was the reason people came to the teahouse to have fun and enjoy things they couldn't enjoy on the outside. Like lusting after something rather unwise.<br><br>While Masato's work may not have reflected such as it was dark and grim , he was quite the fan of escapism from time to time.<br><br><br><br>"Heck , The romantic in Me says that my offer is rather beautiful in a way. You and Zara clearly do not enjoy each other's company , so what better way to make you too get along then to make you literally kiss and make up? The cynic in me however states that the&nbsp; only opinions here who matters is that of Master Ryan as he is one the making decisions around here."Masato waxed poetically about his idea as he&nbsp; took another sip of his drink. He might have been a physical coward but he steadfast and firm in defending his idea. Any great composer had to be, they had to be willing to put there reputation on the line in front of critics if they were every going to become well known.<br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 01:50:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He just smirked at Zara, following the whole range of her emotions unfold before him.<br><br>"It could have been better, but it's something," he said low, gaze flicking up the stairs when Fiona descended, giving her a slight nod, then turned to the cellist, ignoring Anel for a few moments.<br><br>"Miss Fiona is quite right in this matter. I highly recommend not to have both ladies in the same bed...," he said "unless you actually enjoy seeing them attempt pull each-others hair out. It <em>could </em>be entertaining, I'm certain."<br><br>Only then did his attention go back to Anel and the patron stood before him, eyes resting, briefly, on Gareth Aldrich.<br><br>"Yes, Anel. That would be splendid," he said to the white haired virgin, then turned his attention towards Aldrich once again.<br>"I'm certain you are aware of the bids still being open on a certain part of Anel's... services? Asides that, the common rate still applies."<br><br>It wasn't that Ryan was annoyed, or even irritated, he just wanted to get things rolling as soon as it was possible. If the cellist really did want the both of the women at the same time, he'd get them.. at two and a half the price of one, of course.<br>Both Anel and Gareth were more then aware of how things were done by now. And Gareth should be aware of the bidding war for Anel's virginity by now. Ryan had send him a letter per courier.<br><br>For a moment, only briefly, he looked at Fiona again, wondering if Masato would take her and his advice or not. Zara and her wouldn't mix very well, no matter how much money was at stake.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 01:58:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">"Oh..." Zara blinked as she looked at Anel and then slowly looked at Gareth, her eyes warming. Her lips curved into a salacious smile as she leaned towards Gareth and Anel for a moment, her voice soft, "It would be wise for Anel to take you somewhere private and make up for his..." Her eyes ran up and down his clothes as she finished, her voice laced with amusement, "...unsightly display."<br><br>After giving Ryan a pleased smile, Zara turned and looked at Masato and she bowed politely, her face looking between Fiona and the client quite pleased, "Master Masato, it would be my pleasure to...entertain you during your stay at the Teahouse, but I fear Fiona might not...appreciate that." She winked as she whispered, "But please, once you are finished with her, you are more than welcome to seek my services." Her eyes warmed as she added, "I will never say no to you, sir."<br><br>Zara passed by Atticus, her mood incredibly chipper now that she had poked and prodded everyone around her, and whispered under her breath, "Perhaps you can accompany me for a walk in the Gardens once the clients have been...taken care of." She flashed him a shy smile, delighted her day was quickly turning out for the better! Sure she might not have gotten the first clients (Anel had a funny way of always beating her on that) but then it would mean more time with Atticus...<em>and</em> Master Ryan.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 02:29:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'm certain he will," Gareth responded to Zara with a sly wink, smirking as he rested lightly against the banister. With an amused smile, he reached and draped an arm lightly around Anel's shoulders. It was pretty obvious he was probably heading off with him in a moment, simply out of convenience and the fact that he did enjoy purchasing time with him, and he nodded slightly at Ryan's reminder of the bidding for Anel's virginity. <br><br>"Oh, of course. You'll get him back 'intact'... how much <em>is</em> the bidding up to now?" he asked, while his fingers idly played with the loose ends of Anel's hair. Anel seemed to enjoy flaunting this particular aspect of himself, so Gareth thought nothing of casually speaking of it in front of him, gently wrapping a bit of Anel's loose hair around one of his fingers. Part of him was considering whether or not he wanted to treat himself to something <em>that</em> extravagant today, after all, he <em>had</em> been considering procuring the services of multiple courtesans not too long ago.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 02:35:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				For the most part, Anel merely watched and listend to the conversation occurring around him; his priority was, at that point, the potentially wonderful client and he ensured that his eyes occasionally flicked back to Gareth to show that by no means had the man lost any of his attention. He tilted his had to one side and rested his cheek upon one of the man's shoulders, smiling at the Master as permission was granted to simply move away from the bustling entrance hall to a much more pleasant atmosphere and he raised a slender hand to trail his fingertips delicately over Gareth's chest.<br><br>"Wonderful... If it pleases you then, Mr. Gareth... Might I escort you to my room?" He leaned upward and whispered into his ear then,his tone lowering several octaves to a low and seductive purr. "I'm hoping that you will win my body, Sir...You richly deserve it." He moved back with a seductive wink, it being unclear whether or not he was genuine, or whether he simply said the same thing to all his clients... Regardless, Anel truly dd enjoy the time he spend with the good businessman; there was a certain charm to the ruthless nature the man possessed, and he was more than happy to offer his services.<br><br>As Zara approached, a flicker of a frown came to his features and he pouted as she spoke of his clothing, tugging lightly upon the top of the baggy jumper. Rather than become irritated however, (as he knew she wanted him to be) the boy maintained his cool and simply looked back to Gareth again, purring softly. "If my appearance offends you, Mr. Gareth... Then of course, I will make it up to you in whatever way I can..." He winked and took a step back, one hand coming to rest lightly upon his slender and curved hip.<br><br>He was then silent as Gareth spoke, purring loudly his delight at the arm that draped over his shoulder, nuzzling quite happily into the crook of the man's neck, pressing his lips occasionally to the soft skin there. Despite his lavishing attention upon his client, the boy paid close attention to the conversation as the detal of pricing was something he was (as yet) unware of... He was rather curious.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 02:37:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He gave a slight nod at Gareth.<br>"That's good to hear, mister Gareth. And I would send a servant to check with the clerk down the street if you truely wish to know," he said, then added, a bit sly "...Perhaps you wish to bid again, sir?"<br><br>Ryan actually winked at Anel, almost as if he said, but not quite, 'I told you so..', meaning the problem with his garments, before he turned on his heels and wandered, quite casually, over to Zara who was now stood near Atticus.<br><br>He didn't like the idea of one client getting two of his whores. Another patron might enter the Teahouse and find himself without anything to pick from. Right now, it might actually be better if Masato was not able to pick up two by removing one from the picture.<br><br>Standing next to Zara, making the most of his tallness, he laid a hand on her shoulder and said low, but loud enough for others to be heard "Perhaps you should seat yourself at the piano again and entertain entering clients with your talent for the time being."<br><br>Of course it wasn't a suggestion, but a direct order.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 03:30:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Don't worry about your clothes offending me, you'll be out of them soon enough," Gareth whispered back to Anel with a slight grin, choosing not to comment on Anel's suggestion that he hoped he won the bidding for his virginity. Gareth didn't consider those words to be genuine, but it didn't really bother him. Anel got paid better when he was obedient and willing, he knew that. He didn't mind Anel lying to make himself more pleasing to him... he paid him to be whatever he wanted after all.<br><br>He chuckled faintly and nodded at Ryan, allowing Anel to snuggle up against him, keeping his arm around the boy as he felt his lips against his neck. "Ah, well... if I'm no longer in the lead, consider my bid increased until I am again," he said with a wink, releasing Anel's hair, his hand moving to gently caress the bare shoulder that his shirt had slipped from. "I believe Anel and I will take our leave for now. I will see you afterward to settle my bill." <br><br>His eyes lingered on Ryan as he suddenly stalked off after Zara, a slight smirk on his lips as he didn't head up the stairs with Anel right away. Gareth was not a man who took being told he couldn't have something lightly - if he was told 'no', he took that to mean he just hadn't found the proper way to get it yet. Ryan was not a whore. Perhaps the fact that he couldn't simply buy him made Gareth want him.<br><br>He breathed out in a silent sigh, his eyes returning to Anel, a grin spreading on his lips. "... so. Shall we go enjoy ourselves, Anel?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 04:04:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Watching the situation unravel from its taught mess to something smooth and calm (at least for all the parts that were not Zara) was quite lovely. As highly strung as the whores were at the Teahouse,&nbsp; there was always at least one squabble a day. Usually not caused by a client, and rarely continued before a single guest, let alone two... but the situation cooled quickly. Fiona was not the type to fight back, which was lucky for both her and Zara. <br><br>It was a struggle not to sigh or roll his eyes as the composer decided to give them all a speech, the point of it a mystery to Atticus. Master Ryan seemed equally unmoved, turning his attention to Anel and Mister Aldrich. <br><br>Zara passed a little more of her poison around, her refusal to take Fiona to her bed making a smile twitch on his lips. When she turned her attention to him, he lifted an eyebrow, wondering what snipe or half hidden dagger would be tossed at him. Her invitation was totally unexpected. After a dumbfounded moment, he bowed slightly to her and murmured quietly, “If I am given the time, it would be my pleasure, Miss Zara.”<br><br>What she wanted with him, he was unsure.<br><br>He missed some of the discussion between Anel, his businessman client and the Master, but didn’t miss Master Ryan advancing towards him, nor Zara’s punishment. Atticus glanced up the stairs, watching Mister Aldrich for a moment before focusing on Anel, not seeing any unease in his lithe form. Was that through naivety or actual confidence, Atticus wondered before deciding on the latter. All innocence was eroded away in the first few months of whoring, and Anel knew what some of the clients were capable of. No, he trusted his client, and the safety of the Teahouse. <br><br>Not all the clients were so reputable, but when a new patron came the matter was handled quietly, Atticus keeping close in case something untoward occurred. The only whore he felt that might not be able to fight off their client, however, was Fiona. Atticus’ gaze left Anel and fixed on the composer once more before going to the redhead herself.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 04:21:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"As you wish, mister Gareth. You may find me in my office and I shall send a servant with instructions to the clerk to check on your bid and see to raising it if need be," he had replied&nbsp; the dashing businessman. Ryan couldn't help but wonder what attracted him to this man. His money or his looks?<br>Most probably his money.<br><br>There had been this slight pang of worry, and now it returned, having been dug under this ordeal that had unfolded.<br>Ryan hadn't really had the time to ask himself, or his bodyguard for that matter, why he wanted to speak with him in private.<br>He wondered what he wished to talked to him about.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 04:36:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><em>Was she a servant now meant to entertain the guests of the Teahouse with her music and not her body?</em><br><br>Zara felt the urge to object; and if it had been the request of anyone else, she might have but...this was Ryan. And not just that, the touch of his hand on her shoulder caused a whimper to get caught in her throat, the fight draining from her. Bowing her head slightly, she spoke in a soft tone, "As you wish, Master Ryan." In a show of great respect, she turned her head and placed a soft kiss upon his fingertips.<br><br>If anything, she was very pleased that Atticus was willing to see her. She had much to discuss with him!<br><br>Taking the short few steps towards the piano, Zara sat down and tenderly ran her fingertips along the keys, her eyes taking on a slightly distant look. As her lips curved into a tender smile, she let her eyes fall shut and began to play a few selected pieces from her favorite composers, the sound of the music soon filling the room and her entire focus consumed on the pleasure she took in playing the piano.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 05:07:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The response from the cellist made Fiona's lips compress a touch, her eyes dropping since clearly her opinion was not valued here; her fingers tightened ever so slightly around her book, clasping it before her as the man's voice spoke with a passion that made her think perhaps he would be better off selecting Zara as his companion of choice for the visit. She had passion as well but perhaps not...lust as he sought here. Was it stupidity that sent clients here to the Teahouse to seek their company? No, she did not believe that, after all a good few of her normal patron's sought her out for the wealth of richness of her conversation, the debates of philosophies and different interpretations of poetry's meanings. Stupidity was not something she could offer really, for she was one of those who believed in truth that arousal began and ended in the mind, that the mind was just one more part to entice and arouse, what better way then with spirited intellect and discourse? <br><br>Inwardly her lips twitched with a smile at that, perhaps she was not made to be a whore with such thoughts, though being as she was did bring a hefty sum to the Master fairly often. It certainly had with her virgin night. <br><br>Fiona eyes did raise though at the thought of this man pressuring her and Zara into anything, surely Master Ryan would know that it would only lead to a bad resolution for the day. Her aquamarine eyes lowered again though before her thoughts could be read, face elegantly downcast and demure. It was a relief to her heart to hear Ryan give the same verdict as her own thoughts. Still what she had learned so far of the cellist, never one of her clients before, made her uncertain that she could be completely comfortable giving him anything further then discussion about her father's works. After all it was hard to work with men who sought only mindless comfort, she was a different type of whore, one that catered to the mind; still she served the Teahouse and Master Ryan and the money would not go amiss. Perhaps the man was simply over eager in his plans and would mellow. <br><br>The eyes that rested on her didn't surprise her, she knew it was likely Atticus worrying about her and she would give neither him nor the Master any reason to worry. She was the easy going one, that one that could charm all the clients with sweet manners and a ready smile; she was not about to add to their work level and so she stayed, waiting for the Master to give approval to the cellist before she started back for her room, either alone or with the musician. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 05:45:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ryan inclined his head, slightly, but seemingly respectfully at Zara when she showed her respect in her own way, the kiss to his fingers not unpleasant to feel.<br>He did know this type of punishment would not be taken lightly by her, but he couldn't allow her to act like this around clients. He could actually loose clients over this and that was unacceptable.<br>It, of course, also served in a manner to no longer tempt the cellist farther and Ryan did hope Fiona would be sly enough to pick the young man up.<br><br>Taking his hand back and off of her shoulder, his gaze drifted towards Atticus, his bodyguard.<br>He still had that scent around him. Logical, of course. He hadn't been able to bath properly as of yet. Perhaps he should allow him to that first... But, no, Ryan wished to find out what the man wanted to discussed and would grant him what he had requested and have this unfold in private ; in his office.<br>No matter what happened here, if Fiona did or did not succeed in charming mister Masato either into conversation or into her bed, he'd take time for this out of his schedule.<br>Afterall, everyone living under his roof was his responsibility, not matter the manner in which they earned their bread.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 05:51:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;It was clear to Atticus that Fiona was unhappy, but not distraught.&nbsp; Even so, Atticus relaxed – only courtesans could choose who their patrons were, truly, and they were not numerous. Fiona had a long way to go before she would have such a freedom, if that was what she sought. It was a possible step to take from such a high class establishment as the Teahouse... though much more common to be taken in as a mistress by an infatuated patron.<br><br>Atticus’ chest hitched as his breath caught, the memory of a blade brief and vivid. He twitched and looked away from Fiona and her client, knowing that such a fate would never come to her, or any at the establishment. Screams were plentiful but they didn’t go ignored, and if they continued for more than half a minute, it was investigated. <br><br>He lightly touched his eyepatch, reassuring himself he felt no pain, the wounds were long healed, then pushed back his hair to mask the brief daze. The music that spilled out of the nearby room helped, and he made his shoulders relax. He noticed Master Ryan's gaze and the corner of his mouth lifted in a self-mocking smirk. "Master," he murmured quietly, not quite a question and not quite an apology for letting his mind wander, either.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Love And Submission</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 09:04:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As mentioned previously Masato was aman of conviction and dedication but when hewas outgunned he accordingly."Well since so many of you offer and because I am from a cruel man. I guess I shall go with what I orignally came in here"Masato took a long sip of his drink as he focused on Fiona, it seemed as though his passion had frightended the young ,&nbsp; an unwatned yet all too common reaction to Masato's pasion in his work.&nbsp; She seemed to be rather&nbsp; timid and afraid of masato so he did his best to mend fences as they say."Sorry if I offended you , miss. I don't react well to criticism. You will accept my apologize won't you?"&nbsp; The celliest asked witha doe eyed look on his face , he seemed to be rather sincenere in his apology. He finished the last of his mint&nbsp; julep and handed it to one of the serveants. Nothing like a morning cocktail to calm a man down.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 20:49:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The redhead glanced up at Masato when his conversation turned to her again, a shy but warm smile on her lips even as she inclined her head ever so slightly. "Of course sir, there is nothing to apologize for, no genius enjoys discord with his sentiments." Her words were softly spoken, some of that easy winsome charm reappearing as her aquamarine eyes sparkled. She still had her reservations but the meant nothing and the cellist had apologized and seemed less aggressive then before. <br><br>Fi glanced at the Master of the House, a question in her eyes for she was unsure if she was simply to take the man with her up the stairs or if Ryan would further want to be involved and see the guest settled. He often did so, such personal touches and attention that often had clients returning. Still it was the cellist she was to charm and to him her attention returned, waiting on whatever approval the Master would give. Her eyes softened, almost a glow to her features, for as the others were intense she was sweetness, inviting and tempting to others to partake. "You mentioned a desire to discuss my late father's work I believe, is there one in particular so that I might better know your interest? Perhaps <em>The Idles of Swords</em> or <em>Lady of the Sunset Citadel</em>?" <br><br>She noted how he finished off his cocktail, wondering if it would be best to send for another one for their discussion or to send for her normal tea service for this time of day. Normally wine and cocktails did not enter her day until the evening and then not often.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>17-02-2011, 23:01:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Save for a slight pout creeping upon his lips, Anel remained still and silent as Ryan's gaze shifted briefly to him to impart the obvious wink. he knew perfectly well that the Master was always painfully right in almost everything regarding the beloved Teahouse, and try and he might, the boy couldn't find fault with the man's methods or anything that would give him much ammunition to mutter a playful snipe... Well... he could complain thatthe man's hair seemed (to him) dull, but that was too boring, and Anel did not do boring insults. Especially not for Ryan Valentine.<br><br>At some point, he would get something special.<br><br>A small smirk tugged upon his features as he swore this mentally before he returned his attention to Gareth, a smile curling upon his lips as he nodded, resuming his delicate rain of kisses along the smooth neck. "Of course, Mr. Gareth... Anything you like." He purred lightly before he blinked n some surprise as the man spoke of raising his id so very casually, without a care for how much his body was deemed worth already. He knew that Gareth must have had money to burn but even so... It did wonders for his ego however.<br><br>"Oh my... So very flattering, to know that my body is wanted so much..." He added with a small smile, wishing that Zara was closer in order to make a point of directing the comment towards her; that would knock her down a peg of two... As it was however, he had plenty of ammunition on her from that way in which she acted mere moments ago, and as such he remained unconcerned.<br><br>He looked then to Fiona for a brief moment, wrinkling his nose in her direction. He had barely a thing to do with the woman since her appointment into the household; she wasn't offensive to him as Zara was, it was simply that fact that they were so very different. Whereas Anel was by no means stupid, he couldn't fathom the concepts that the woman often spoke of despite his occasional attempts... That, and... if he was brutally honest, he found that women in general seemed to irritated him.<br><br>Still, he had secured his client and the morning had barely begun; a wonderful start to the day!<br><br>Easing himself from Gareth's hold he moved up the stairs, pausing halfway in order to look over his shoulder with a most tantalising expression upon his features, slender hips jutted out provocatively to one side. He allowed his now elevated gaze to sweep over all of those present, ensuring to make eye contact with each and every person before he settled on Gareth once again and winked, licking his lips in a slow and obvious manner.<br><br>"Of course... Might I escort you to my room, then, dear Sir? It would be a pleasure to service you today." His words were light and smooth; intoxicating as his almost serpentine movements as he stepped again upwards, waiting then for the business man to follow him...<br><br>It would be a fun morning, indeed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>18-02-2011, 01:06:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dark eyes narrowed, slightly, the only hint their owner had not only caught Atticus' emotions -they were hard to miss, really-, but also responded to it with a residual hint of the pure rage he had once felt when he learned of the man's past. Or at that time, his present.<br><br>"My office," he said so low no one but his bodyguard would be able to catch the words passing his lips, then turned, once again, on his heels to wander off and through the hallway to a door much like all the others in the House. He didn't even look back to see if Atticus was coming.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>18-02-2011, 01:48:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atticus felt his stomach twist and blood rush at Master Ryan’s two words, a little fear, a lot anticipation and a swirl of excitement. It was an unnerving sensation, one he had rarely felt without any dread, yet here it was. He had spent each day in close proximity to the Master of the house, but the man had only asked for what Atticus could give, control and violence, rarely demanding more and never something that was beyond his comfort. <br><br>After being allowed to hold such a distance Atticus found himself trusting Master Ryan almost utterly... though he wondered, as he followed the Master to his office, if it wasn’t a quiet respect that had allowed him to go unmolested, but disgust. The idea didn’t quake his ego as it might the Teahouse whores, but amused him. How relaxing it would be to be ugly.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Love And Submission</strong> on <strong>18-02-2011, 03:19:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				One could say that drinking before ten am was a rite of passage among composers. Bach , Mozart, Beethoven , Brahms and Pietro Marc Antonio Cesti&nbsp; were all noted for there somewhat excessive though it was highly unlikely that masato could keep up with the pace of this musical contemporaries." But if a child's hand is never slapped when he eats something bad , how will he ever know not to eat it t? Even geniuses need focus from time to time ,lest we end up missing an ear and mourning a forgotten love." Masato informed Fiona&nbsp; that he knew he needed to be kept&nbsp; in line from to time&nbsp; , a bit of a chuckle escaping his lips at the irony of his quote. The irony came from the fact that Van Gogh&nbsp; gave the part of his ear he dislodged from himself to a whore named Rachel in a local brothel, Masato hoped he could avoid the same fate. The cellist wondered if Fiona was as well versed at art as she was philosophy and literature , he had&nbsp; amassed quite the&nbsp; art collection during his time abroad and was a huge fan of postmodernism. <br><br><br>"As far as which book I would like to discuss. I'd prefer The Idles of Swords&nbsp; ,The count is perhaps my favorite person in all the world. Just evil enough to be interesting but not&nbsp; quite a villain. I've always wondered who your father's inspiration was for that character. I'm sure his muse was as entertaining in life as he was in fiction." The young musician answered a she watched&nbsp; a few of the people in the room disappear from sight. He wondered if him and Fiona should do the same.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>18-02-2011, 03:54:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Gareth chuckled a bit as his eyes followed Anel as the boy made his way back up the stairs. He smirked faintly and shook his head, glancing at the others nearby before beginning to ascend the staircase after him.<br><br>"This could take a while," He said with a slight grin, and he followed Anel up the stairs, his eyes drifting over him as he did so. He made a soft 'tsk' sound, smirking and shaking his head, uttering in a low tone.<br><br>"... we really <em>must</em> get you out of that outfit."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>18-02-2011, 06:08:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Fiona's full lips quirked a touch, almost a smile, laughter shinning in her eyes at his comparison of himself to a child reaching for more then he could take on or something he might not enjoy. Apparently he was not as much for flattery as she had first supposed, the way he had bragged of his music's success had lead her to that conclusion but the new knowledge was just that, knowledge and she filed it away like everything else to be used to further please him. "I shall hope nothing of my company then encourages you to part with an ear, of love I can say little though." Her reply was soft, a touch witty with that inflection of mirth lingering in her tone. <br><br>The red head noted that the Master of the House had moved off, and so too had Anel and his client, the other Teahouse worker very much gloating she noted over his conquest. It did not bother her, unlike the others who saw this all as a competition for Fi it was something different. She loved writing but women writers were not well respected, at least not well enough that while writing she could have any other job without the fear of loosing it for lack of being respectable; being a whore allowed her to write without fear and paid for it as well. It was also the fact that to her it was about the connection and the people, the fact that she could bring them some small form of wonder, relaxation and escape from the busy world. <br><br>Her sea like eyes shimmered in delight as he broke into conversation about her father's book and she inclined her head, laughing. "His muse was...interesting. He worked on that book when I was nine and the count was often mentioned to keep me in line to behave properly, my mother teased me so." One hand gathered the tulle of her skirts, turning her body every so slightly in a invitation to the cellist to move closer. "However if we are to truly enjoy this conversation I think it best to adjourn to my room rather then the stairs. Please Mr. Masato, follow me if you will."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>18-02-2011, 06:23:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Gareth left with Anel.<br>Atticus left with Master Ryan.<br>Masato left with Fiona.<br>...She was playing...for no one.<br><br>She suddenly -- very loudly -- slammed her hands on the piano keyboards and stopped playing all together. This was...insulting. Her eyes narrowed into angry little slits as she felt her heart breaking a little at a time. He would never notice her, would he? No. No he would not. She had come to terms with that a long time ago...but it was times like this; times like now, where she felt alone...that it simply became too much. Zara scooted her legs out from under the piano and stood up, making her way into the common room. Her heels clicked loudly on the floor as she walked towards the section where the liquor was housed.<br><br>"I am <em>not</em> a servant," She muttered to herself as she poured a half a glass of brandy, taking it in one shot. Her eyes glittered with anger and hatred for the two whores who had captured someone before her. They were pathetic. Imbeciles. But here she was all alone-- "While they fucked and enjoy themselves," she finished out loud, pouring another glass of brandy for herself.<br><br>No matter. Someone would come for her soon enough. Until then...<br><br>A little giggle escaped Zara as she took the bottle of brandy and her glass outside. It was a lovely day outside, was it not? Perhaps she could...lay on the grass. Day dream. It had worked for the nitwit Fiona, perhaps it would work for her.<br><br>Regardless, Zara was NOT a servant. And if another client came calling...she wasn't going to be sitting there all alone. She wasn't going to look pathetic for ANY ONE.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>19-02-2011, 02:03:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				This morning he was wearing all dark blue to set off the color of his eyes which were emerald green. He had only been at the Teahouse for three short days but it wasn't bad.<br><br>However, he hadn't been in a lineup yet or had his first customer. So perhaps his view on things would change once that happened. Or maybe it wouldn't.<br><br>Cameron stretched and glanced around the room he was occupying for the moment. There wasn't much to do right now and he had already chosen his outfit for the day. Today was dark blue and tomorrow would be a completely different color. If he hadn't been stuck at the Teahouse, he would have been out with the TT but such was not the case here. He debated between doing a bit of physical exercise or sketching something, both of which were interesting to him. After a few moments he decided on the latter.<br><br>He stood, made his way over to the desk and took out a sketchpad and a long, thin pencil box. Then, he let himself out of his room and headed downstairs to work outside.<br><br>Getting some fresh air was always a good idea, no matter who you might be. Cameron stepped out and caught sight of a figure lying in the grass nearby.<br><br>She seemed familiar and he regarded Zara for a second as he tried to remember her name. Zena? No, Zara, that was it. He smirked as he leaned up against the wall of the building and watched her for a few minutes. "Couldn't find someone who wanted your pretty body?" Cameron teased, noting the brandy bottle and the fact that she was outside and not inside. "I'm sure they know <em>exactly</em> what they're missing..." He added, attempting to push her buttons and grinned at Zara as he waited for her reaction.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>19-02-2011, 02:13:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">She was staring up at the sky...wondering on the shape of a nearby cloud when she heard someone's voice. Zara did not jump up but merely turned her head until she found the figure leaning against the house. His comment caused her eyes to narrow, and she shifted until she was on her stomach, facing him, sipping on her third...or four? she couldn't remember...glass of brandy.<br><br>The temperamental whore was uncaring if her breasts pushed up and almost spilled from her corset; if she had heard the rumors from the servants then this new whore had no interest in her body. <em>Great</em>, she thought to herself finishing the glass, <em>another man uninterested in what she had to offer.</em><br><br>As her lips curved into a slow smile, her eyes flashed with ice, the venom already filling her hazel eyes, "Let us say...they chose conversation over sex. While the other chose a virgin over...experience." She chuckled as she rolled back over onto her back, saying dismissively, "But there's no need to concern yourself...you would have been passed over as well."<br><br>She closed her eyes, raising her hands over her head, already a bit tipsy, "To be completely honest...I have no idea what Master Ryan sees in you." A bubble of laughter escaped her as she sighed, "I guess he's willing to take <em>anyone</em> in."</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>19-02-2011, 02:27:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He didn't mind looking at women in a sexual manner. They were attractive in their own way and certainly to straight men. But that didn't mean he wanted to fuck any of them.<br><br>Yet at the same time, it wasn't as if he was completely turned off by them. Cameron's eyes lingered for a moment on Zara's breasts that were bulging out.<br><br>She really had nicely shaped melons, it was a pity they were going to waste. "Well, if you're really desperate, I'm sure I can help you out there. That is...if you'd settle for someone like me." He said in an almost innocent manner. Of course, he didn't care one way or another what she chose but it was a way to pass the time. But she was also drinking brandy, an alcohol he didn't much care for, so if they did engage in sex, hopefully she wasn't the kissing type. He didn't want to get that scent all over him.<br><br>"But I'm sure you'd rather wait for someone else to come along, right?" He said with a dry smirk and he pushed off the wall to head to where Zara was currently relaxing.<br><br>"If that's the case, I'll come back in another two hundred years to see if you've reconsidered." Cameron teased, not letting her earlier words get to him.<br><br>At least, he was trying not to. But something she had said bothered him. He didn't care if he didn't end up getting chosen or not, in fact it might be better if he wasn't chosen. Yet still... he couldn't help but bite the bait. "Why wouldn't I get chosen?" He finally asked, giving in to his curiosity. "Is it because I'm not a virgin?" That was the only thing he could think of other than he wasn't the type of the customers who had entered the Teahouse. He smirked when Zara showed interest in how he had come here.<br><br>"Mmm, well that's a mystery you'll never know, Zara. I'm sure you'd love to get under my skin but it won't be that easy. However, I welcome you to try." He said with a grin.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>19-02-2011, 02:42:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">"Now," Zara sighed as she rolled and shifted to a sitting position, tucking her feet under her as she looked at Cameron. "Why would I be <em>desperate</em> enough to give you something for free...when I can merely wait for someone else to come along and pay for my services?" A smirk crossed her features as she looked at him and then looked inside the house a sudden flash of pain stealing her features for a second before it disappeared.<br><br>There was no need to think of what ifs. The truth was she wasn't opposed to having some fun with the other whores of the Manor...she just didn't want to right now. Her mood was anything&nbsp; but generous at the moment.<br><br>A dangerous light filled her eyes when she heard his question, trying her best not to giggle with delight. How she loved to make the whores question themselves. It was so...entertaining to see them fumbling about. And while she often let her own emotions get the best of her, for the most part...Zara made sure she impacted everyone who crossed her path.<br><br>Sometimes she wondered why Master Ryan kept her around; but then she thought about her client. In the bedroom, Zara aimed to please. And she hardly...ever...said no...<br><br>"A virgin?" She scoffed and rolled her eyes, "The only one who's a virgin is Anel...and I'd question that myself." She scowled as looked up at the second floor where Anel and Fiona both were. "I bet you he's riding Gareth's dick at the moment. He says he's a virgin because if he doesn't..." Zara leaned forward, willing to start <em>any</em> rumor, "then he's worth nothing to Master Ryan."<br><br>She capped the brandy, knowing that if someone else came and wanted her services, she had to be in her best behavior. And alcohol made her...lose control.<br><br>"So...since my morning has already been ruined and you've decided to annoy me with your presence...you might as well give me your name." Zara ran her eyes up and down his features, smirking slightly. He was attractive, there was no doubt about that.<br><br>But weren't all gay men attractive? Bloody bastards looked even better than women sometimes.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>19-02-2011, 05:14:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Despite the way he acted, Cameron was perceptive and he caught that brief look of pain. But he didn't remark about it, there was no point in doing so. Not right now at least.<br><br>He blinked when Zara spoke. "Anel?" Cameron didn't know who he happened to be, only that he was here at the Teahouse as well and was a whore.<br><br>It seemed as if this woman knew a lot about those who worked here. Perhaps he could entice her into telling him more about the others since it was obvious to him that she wasn't new to the place like him. He watched as she capped the brandy and then addressed him once more. "Cameron. I've heard the names of the other whores but don't have any faces to go with them. Well, other than yours." He came over at took a seat next to the woman. The grass seemed quite comfy in his opinion compared to the concrete.<br><br>Cameron put down his sketchpad and laid back to stare up at the sky, stifling a yawn. "So I take it you've been here a long time?" He asked, encouraging Zara to talk more.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>19-02-2011, 07:21:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Had she been at the Teahouse for a long time? Zara let out a long sigh as she raised her head and basked in the sun, silent for a few minutes. She had been there since the beginning; had been Master Ryan's longest whore. Not that he noticed, she thought with a scowl, he had taken on more whores and had completely lost interest in her. Wait...did he even show interest in the first place?<br><br>"Yes," Zara said shortly, opening her hazel eyes and looking at Cameron, "I've been here the longest." She opened her mouth to continue speaking when she stopped. Why would she want to speak about <em>them</em>?<br><br>Running her fingers through her hair, she turned her eyes on him and smiled slowly, deciding she wanted to have a little bit of fun. Placing her hands on the grass, she shifted and began to crawl towards Cameron, her voice low and sultry, "Want to know what I do to keep the clients...coming back for more?" She ran her tongue along her lower lip, her eyes slightly hooded as she looked at the new whore, eyes lowering down to linger on his crotch before raising back up to his eyes.<br><br>She was bored...and now, she wanted something to do.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>19-02-2011, 18:23:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It seemed he had bad luck. Zara had chosen not to enlighten him as to the others. But at the same time she was about to provide some suitable distraction to pass the time.<br><br>So perhaps it wasn't that bad. After all, if he gave her something to put her back into a happy mood, maybe she would be more open with him next time.<br><br>Of course, everything Cameron did with others had a purpose. He didn't do anything out of the goodness of his heart unless you were one of those special few he cared about. Since he wasn't familiar with anyone here, no one fit that role. Cameron smirked when she began to crawl towards him on the grass in a sultry fashion. He could tell that this behavior would certainly turn on straight men. However, fortunately for him, he was able to get hard when a woman came on to him if she was relatively attractive.<br><br>Not as hard as he might get if a hot man did the same but enough so his partner would be satisfied. That made him a great whore since he was able to cater to both genders.<br><br>His cock gave a twitch beneath his dark blue slacks at Zara's words and Cameron tilted his head to the side. "Alright." The white haired man replied softly.<br><br>It was on the tip of his lips to tease her again but he suspected if he did that, Zara would explode and the mood would be killed. As much fun as that would be, he wanted to see what Zara's technique was himself. To see what she had done wrong which made customers keep rejecting her before others. Or whether the reason was something else entirely. Cameron's emerald eyes flickered over to Zara's breasts which were in danger of exploding out of her top and then back to her face once more as she crawled.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>20-02-2011, 02:03:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Her movements were lazy, as if she had all the time in the world to do with him whatever she wanted to do. And perhaps...she did. It wasn't as if they were going to be interrupted anytime soon.<br><br>Lowering her eyes, Zara was pleased to see that Cameron was indeed aroused. It might not have been to the fullest extent but...she had worked with far less. Her own body became flushed as she prepared herself to pleasure another. It was about the only thing Zara did willingly and quite happily to another person. While she might be a bit of a nutcase, all of her clients left her bedroom satisfied. She would have it no other way.<br><br>"Don't worry," She murmured as she raised her eyes to his with a saucy grin, "You may close your eyes and imagine I am someone else." Her hand moved to his crotch were she slowly began to unzip his pants, her voice a soft whisper, "Believe me...I will be imagining the same thing."<br><br>Slipping her hand inside, Zara wrapped her fingers around his length and slowly pulled him out of his pants. The location and the situation at hand added to her excitement; how she would LOVE to have Master Ryan or Atticus come out to see her busy with another whore.<br><br>Lowering her head, she parted her lips and breathed upon Cameron's shaft before she slowly took him in her mouth, her tongue gently twirling around the tip of his member before she flicked the tip of her tongue back and forth against the head of his cock. A low purr escaped as she opened her mouth wider and took him further within her mouth, sucking deeply before releasing and almost letting him slip out. As her mouth tightened once more around him, and she lowered her head down to take even more of him within, she couldn't help the tremor of pleasure she felt..</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>20-02-2011, 19:30:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cameron was reminded of a panther stalking its prey as Zara crawled forward. He smirked when she gave him permission to imagine she was someone else. Would she?<br><br>His unspoken question was answered shortly afterward. Of course she would be thinking of another, using him was just a way to get herself off right now.<br><br>It wasn't because she liked or found him attractive. Cameron let out a soft grunt as she pulled him out of his pants and lowered her head. He had done many sexual things in the past with quite a few partners, mostly within the TT but some outside of it. So he wasn't a complete novice at this but he always liked the beginning and ending stages the best. It was when he managed to get the hardest and enjoyed it the most. His length responded to her tongue and mouth and filled out, hardening in the process.<br><br>A soft moan escaped his lips as she took him further into her mouth. Cameron's hand came out and ran through her hair, twining the strands in his fingers as he gently tugged.<br><br>The blond wanted to give Zara some pleasure as well but at the moment their positions were too awkward to reciprocate easily. So he did nothing for now.<br><br>Once she was done with him, he would seek to return the favor, even if she protested and said he didn't need to. After all, Cameron wasn't the type of man who would take something for nothing. If she didn't want sexual pleasure, he would find another way to pay her back. But who in their right mind would pass up an opportunity to feel good? His free hand propped himself up on the grass as his other continued to tug and caress Zara's hair while her head bobbed up and down on his cock. Sex was really great, wasn't it?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>21-02-2011, 13:36:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">The act of sex always proved to turn Zara on, and in no time, she felt herself growing moist with arousal. As she lazily stroked her tongue up and down the underside of his shaft, she moaned lightly, enjoying the feel of his fingers in her hair.<br><br>How she craved for him to thrust her head down and force her to take his entire cock in her mouth. But...that was a privilege for paying customers; they could choke her and make her gag and she would take it and love it! With Cameron...? This was a way to pass the time until a paying customer came to take one of them away.<br><br>With an excited whimper, Zara relaxed her throat as she continued to move her head down and slowly took him fully within her mouth, her lips tightening around his member to begin sucking on him harder. Her&nbsp; tongue was busy twirling along the tip of his shaft when the came up and then sliding along the underside of his member when she moved all the way down.<br><br>And being as she loved the sound of sex...she was not silent as she orally pleasured him.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>24-02-2011, 02:09:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Of course someone would enter the Teahouse when no one but the servants were around. Not that they dared glance at the young, near fragile man that wandered into the main hall of the brothel casually.<br>Only a few steps he wandered, though, then tilted his head as if listening, shadow of a smile ghosting over porcelain features.<br><br>This would be the very first time River Cho Ming had ever set foot into the Teahouse. The décor could certainly earn his approval, he decided, but where was... well.. anyone?<br>To River the servants actually <em>were</em> invisible, as he had been trained during upbringing to not see them lest he wished for something.<br><br>Taking a chair in what he took as a, or maybe <em>the</em> common room, he leaned back, drumming fingertips on the armrest before ordering a servant to get him tea.<br><br>He'd wait. He had all the time in the world today.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>25-02-2011, 21:38:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cameron closed his eyes as she continued to pleasure him. But after a time he grew rather impatient and thrust his cock down her throat, wanting things to speed up a bit.<br><br>It wasn't as if they had all day to engage in their lustful desires. He didn't want to end up getting scolded for paying too much attention to an employee.<br><br>After all, he couldn't get kicked out of this place. Idly he wondered if it was even possible to get fired from the Teahouse. The worst thing he could think of was being forced to work here without pay in return. But what he and Zara were engaging in wasn't a big offense, just something that they probably shouldn't be doing too often. Not if it interfered in their work. Then again, Zara wasn't getting work and Cameron hadn't been in a lineup yet, so why shouldn't they do what they wanted?<br><br>He was oblivious to the fact that a customer sat waiting in the main hall of the brothel. Of course due to the fact that he was a whore, Cameron didn't climax right away.<br><br>It would be an offense to a paying customer if they wanted him to last for a long time. That coupled with the fact Zara was a woman served useful now.<br><br>Cameron would have a much harder time trying to hold back if he had been with an attractive young man. But Zara wasn't that bad he had to admit. He liked the noises she made as she worked on him and a few sound escaped his own lips. "With skills like this, it's a wonder you don't get customers." The blond murmured when he could find time to breathe. His hips thrust forward, driving his cock further down her throat as his fingers twined around her hair, keeping her head in place for him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>subrob99</strong> on <strong>26-02-2011, 06:43:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Having had too much to drink and been up late the night before. I finally wake up and look at the clock and cant believe the time. If I don't dressed and make my way down stairs I wont be able to make any money today. So I quickly freshen up. I put on some black slacks and a white button up oxford shirt. I then make my way down stairs and into the common room. "Good evening, sorry for not coming down sooner I was up a little hung over from the night before. "
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>26-02-2011, 14:25:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><em>~ Zara with Cameron ~</em><br><br>A low growl of surprised escaped Zara when she felt his hands on the back of her head pushing her down and making her choke slightly. <em>What the hell!</em> Her eyes flashed angrily but she wasn't about to pull away now. Zara had a cock in her mouth and she was going to make sure that when all was said and done, he was satisfied.<br><br>...But the urge to bite was strong. Especially when he had no damn right to jerk her head down.<br><br>Her mouth sucked harder and her tongue twirled faster around his shaft; little whimpers and gasps escaping her. She made sure to take him all the way inside, relaxing her throat and moving her tongue along the underside of his member before she slowly brought her mouth back up. She repeated the process a few times, each time picking up speed, moving faster on his length. She shuddered, feeling her nipples harder and her body quiver with need. Damn it, she needed to get laid quickly! She hoped a customer would come by soon enough and take care of her. She did so enjoy when the client focused on&nbsp; her just as much as she focused on them.<br><br>At his comment, Zara's hazel eyes turned violent as she jerked her head up, pulling his cock from her mouth. <em>With skills like this, it's a wonder you don't get customers</em>...Who the hell did he think he was? Her lips were a bit glossy from what she had been doing as she snapped, "I <em>do</em> get customers!" The reminder that she was here while Anel and Fiona both had actual clients added salt to her wounded ego and with a low growl, she jerked away from him and said coldly, "You can finish yourself off."<br><br>Standing up, Zara made sure she was presentable before she grabbed the bottle of brandy and the shot glass and marched back inside. <em>The nerve of him! Who the hell...he was a nobody! NOBODY!!</em> Zara was so wrapped up in her own personal tantrum that she almost completely missed the gentleman who was inside waiting. She came to a complete stop, glancing from the newcomer to the whore who <em>finally</em> decided to make an appearance.<br><br>"Oh..." She licked her lips as she walked towards him, but not the same way as she had with Masato. Hell, she couldn't take anymore rejection. Her eyes were hungry but her smile was polite as she asked respectfully, her tone completely different from the way she had behaved with everyone else before. She hadn't seen him around before so she might as well treat him to the rarity of her 'niceness', "How may we help you, Sir?"</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 01:38:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98126.msg4306188#msg4306188">Quote from: subrob99 on 26-02-2011, 06:43:16</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Having had too much to drink and been up late the night before. I finally wake up and look at the clock and cant believe the time. If I don't dressed and make my way down stairs I wont be able to make any money today. So I quickly freshen up. I put on some black slacks and a white button up oxford shirt. I then make my way down stairs and into the common room. "Good evening, sorry for not coming down sooner I was up a little hung over from the night before. "<br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>As no one but River was in the common room, he raised his gaze up from his tea and blinked a few times at what may or may not be a whore.<br>"...late night last night?," he mumbled, then added, grinning low "It's morning.."<br><br>A sip of tea and a girl ran in, almost making him inhale it, grateful it wasn't boiling hot any longer.<br>What on earth..? Was the information about the Teahouse accurate or false? This girl had a bottle and a glass with her. In the morning! If this got any worse, he'd reconsider spending his families money here and inform them of the odd behaviours, too.<br><br><em>"How may we help you, Sir?"</em><br><br>To not let his emotion show too much, he dropped his gaze to his teacup. Afterall, the Teahouse did have a good name. Maybe he was imagining things.<br>"I don't know, miss. I'm thinking I might be in the incorrect place to spend my money...," he said quietly, something of the spoiled brat shining through anyway.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 03:04:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adonijah tiptoed down the grand staircase from his room, having been hiding up there for most of the morning, a little afraid that his days were numbered here at the Teahouse. He wasn't intentionally avoiding Ryan, after all, the man could simply come find him if he wanted, but he felt like if I remained a bit quiet and out-of-sight perhaps he would forget that he was there. He was still intimidated, however... he wasn't sure if staying out of Ryan's sight for the last couple of days was making things better or worse. <br><br>His fingers ran along the braided leather cord that circled his neck, a disk of polished stone hanging from it, and as he descended the staircase, the people remaining in the main hall caught his eye, and he froze for a moment. He smiled pleasantly, but still tried to sneak his way past them without really catching their attention, his bare feet making very little noise on the marble floors, though the braided copper and brass bangles on his wrists made soft jingling noises as he walked. He was getting used to being rejected for work regularly, he had no reason to assume today would be any different. He was just grateful that Ryan wasn't in the main hall to remind him that he wasn't bringing in any income yet. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 03:09:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">A flash crossed over her eyes at his words before Zara masked it. In the incorrect place? No one <em>incorrectly</em> went to the Teahouse. That was preposterous and confusing as hell. Still, he was a client and who was she to tell him he was fucking nuts. She almost rolled her eyes, <em>Seriously...intelligence lowering by the second.</em><br><br>Keeping her smile firmly in place, Zara responded smoothly yet a bit blunt, "Well if you came for Tea then yes...you are in the incorrect place." She waited a heartbeat before she continued, "If you came to purchase a whore, then you're in the right place." She looked over at Jayme and then looked back at the client and arched an eyebrow slightly, "What's your pleasure, sir? The Master is a bit..." She thought about Atticus and Ryan and tightened her hold on the bottled of brandy, "...occupied but I can assist in making sure you have whichever whore you'd like."<br><br>With a polite bow, she walked over to the bar cabinet and slipped the brandy back in its spot. No one would have missed it...except for the few shots missing from it. Her slightly tipsiness was just about gone...now she was left bored again. She caught sight of Adonijah, another new whore and almost groaned out loud. Was she the Mother Hen now!?<br><br>Zara was really starting to think she should have just waited to start her day when the pink corset had arrived. She was certain it would have made a WORLD of difference to the outcome of the day.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 03:18:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				River laughed quietly at her words. Tea he had, and he raised the cup a bit to indicate this. Now the 'companion' as his family had named a whore.<br><br>"My pleasure, miss..?" His gaze travelled up the woman, calm, grey eyes stopping at hers, slight smile forming while they defrosted and gained a twinkling of mischief.<br>"Men are my pleasure, miss..," he murmured.<br>"Especially those who are able to... But, I guess I shouldn't go into details."<br><br>His gaze dropped to his teacup again, brow furrowing a bit. Oddly enough it was still a chore to word his desires. Even with his experience.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 03:37:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Fucking...figures! Zara schooled her features, letting the John know nothing as she bowed her head and smiled politely, "Of course. Our male whores it is...Let me have a line up prepared for you, Sir. It shall only take a few moments."<br><br>Turning on her heels, Zara marched to where one of the servants was -- who, as soon as he saw her, tried to make a beeline for the kitchen -- and snapped, "Gather the male whores in the house who are not occupied. Now." Her words were not screamed; but the ice in them was enough to freeze the servant instantly.<br><br>With her back to the client, Zara squeezed her eyes shut and took a couple of deep breaths. Today was not her day but it would get better...at least, that's what she told herself. The only thing that frustrated her the most was the fact that she wouldn't be able to take out her frustrations on any other whore.<br><br>Forcing a smile to her face, Zara turned and moved back towards the John, her voice as sweet as honey, "The servant is gathering them as we speak. Please...would you like some more tea?" <em>Fucking hell...Ryan is hearing about this,</em> Zara thought hatefully. Where the hell was he and why wasn't HE taking care of this John?</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 03:55:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hmm.. He could almost sense.. something from the fema--- woman. Ack, nearly did it again. But.. it was in his mind, so it didn't count, right? Right.<br><br>One hand raised to idly play with his hair, smiling politely at Zara while placing the cup on the armrest.<br>"No, I'm fine.. More tea and I'll not be worth anything," he mused "A line-up? For me..?"<br>He tried so hard, and it normally did work, but.. Ugh, he just had to poke. It was his day off, after all, no work, no study, just his own time.<br><br>"I'm flattered.."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 03:59:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adi had settled himself down onto one of the lovely chaises in the sitting room, and was beginning to weave together a few strands of leather-lacing into a cord to keep himself busy. He couldn't hear what was going on, and as he wasn't hiding, he knew that if anyone decided to look for him they could find him easily. <br><br>He was only mildly surprised when a servant approached him, blinking a bit as he looked up at him, seeming a little surprised that he was being called for a lineup, moreso when the servant mentioned that all <em>male</em> whores were being called. Adi almost opened his mouth to protest, but sighed softly, knowing that if he refused all lineups that involved specifically <em>male</em> or <em>female</em> whores, he'd never get work. <br><br>His mouth closed and his eyes slid closed for a moment, and he nodded in acknowledgment of the request the servant made. He opened his eyes as he heard the servant walk off, frowning slightly as he stood, reluctantly dropping the partially braided leather cords onto the chaise he had been sitting on, heading over into the main hall once more.<br><br>"... there was a lineup of male whores called?" he asked somewhat hesitantly as he approached, fully prepared to be sent away either by the client, or by Zara, who was apparently facilitating him at the moment.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 04:13:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Zara's teeth clenched so hard if her tongue had been in between her teeth, she would have sliced her tongue in half. Instead, she swallowed hard and simply gave the John a slightly forced smile. "Well," Zara said in a slightly strangled tone, "We do try to make ALL of our&nbsp; clients feel...special."<br><br><em>Except for the whores. Who gives a damn about the longest, most faithful whore!</em> Zara wanted to scream though she clamped her mouth shut and refused to open it unless she absolutely had to. She was about to turn once more when she saw the latest whore come into the Common Room, her eyes running up and down his features disdainfully.<br><br>"Yes," Zara said shortly. She nodded to where the client was sitting and said shortly, "Stand in line."<br><br><em>And here's the latest whore. Oh he has no experience whatsoever but please...PLEASE...take him over me!</em> The thoughts were flying in Zara's head so angrily and so strongly that she was seriously concerned she might open her mouth and let one of them fly. She did not care who she insulted or hurt but there was one thing she always tried not to do; she hated bringing shame to the Teahouse. She had already done it once today...and if she did it again, she was certain Ryan would have her head.<br><br>"Forgive me Sir..." Zara said as she looked back at the man who was waiting for the rest of the whores, "I did not get your name...?"</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 04:22:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The polite smile nearly crept out of hand, River could barely contain himself. This woman was.. boiling. And hiding it so well! He would hire her into the family-business. Well.. if she had been a man, of course. A woman in im- and export. Preposterous...<br><br>Then he saw Adi and a brow slowly raised while he basically and very rudely studied him openly.<br>Him?<br>Her?<br>What the hell was this?<br>Intriguing.. And.. pretty.<br><br>The hand in his hair, having had stopped its play, went to his mouth as he coughed and turned his attention back to Zara.<br>"My name is River Cho Ming. You may have heard of my family," he said, eyes now and then going back to Adi, not able to help himself.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 04:33:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adi nodded politely to Zara, and quickly stepped aside to where the line should be forming, waiting for anyone else to arrive. He knew there had to be others who were available, and he sincerely hoped they would show up to spare him having to explain his... unusual condition to this stranger.<br><br>His eyes drifted to River, but then quickly averted as he realized he was studying him rather intently, a slight blush coming to his face from embarrassment, though it could easily be written off as shyness when one didn't know Adi. In reality, Adi was very not shy, but it bothered him when people stared like they weren't sure what they were looking at, even if their gaze seemed appreciative. <br><br>He listened to their conversation, but didn't join in, feeling like it wasn't really his place to say anything as he eavesdropped. He was just a whore, after all, though he wasn't honestly sure for how much longer. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 05:15:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">All she needed was to see the look in the John's eyes and she almost rolled her own eyes. She was reconsidering having put the brandy bottle away. Instead, Zara looked away from River and the new whore and gave them all of five seconds to quit fucking each other with their eyes.<br><br>She turned to River and gave him a polite smile, her voice sweet as she said nicely, "No, I've never heard of your family. But it's very nice to meet you, Sir." She paused for a moment, arching an eyebrow before she questioned, "Should I have the servant continue to fetch the rest of the whores or...have you already made your pick?"<br><br>For a second, her eyes flashed to Adi before they moved back to River.<br><br>Definitely reconsidering putting away the brandy. Definitely.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 05:21:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He blushed! D'aaw.. Cute, certainly, but.. that also ruled him out.<br>River had decided on 'him', as the woman <em>had</em> called a line-up of men. Thus... this must be a man.<br><br>He shrugged a bit at Zara's words. His family might have been filthy rich and held monopoly on Asian in- and export, they also hadn't been in the country for all too long. Something like twenty-odd years, now. It didn't come to his surprise. He also couldn't care too much, even if he should have.<br><br>"No. This one blushed, miss. I think he might not be able to tend to my more dark desires," he said, leaning back in the chair "A shy whore would be of no interest to me, no matter how attractive his features."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 05:29:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Was he still looking at him? This was frustrating. Adi chanced a look back at the man, his eyes staying on him for a moment as he waited patient a bit longer for the rest of the whores to join him, glancing slightly over at Zara at her comment, opening his mouth to point out that it was a bit rude, before River spoke. <br><br>Adi's eyes immediately snapped back to the man as his words made it clear he was dismissing him, his jaw clenching a bit. It'd have been one thing if someone else had simply been chosen over him, but to be dismissed entirely even before anyone else showed up... Adi <em>wasn't</em> shy, and he considered arguing with the man for a moment, but he knew he was on thin ice as it was. Arguing with him wouldn't make him change his mind, and it might get him kicked out a lot sooner. <br><br>"I'll just be out of your way then, <em>thank you,</em>" Adi said, his voice having just a little bit of an edge to it as he abruptly turned to leave. As bad as Zara's day had been for being turned down a few times, Adi had been getting turned down day after day now, for weeks, and while on one level it was something of a relief, on another it was getting incredibly frustrating, especially the more he considered he was probably very close to losing his job. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>28-02-2011, 04:03:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				River raised a brow at Adi's annoyance. The man actually showed some fire. He almost changed his thoughts about him. Perhaps the blush had not been of shyness. Maybe of something else.<br>If Adi had stayed, defended himself, shown more of that fire... Ah, but that was pointless musing, wasn't it? He turned and left, drawing a slight shake of River's head.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>28-02-2011, 13:22:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">The urge to laugh was so strong that Zara had to cough to cover the snicker that had escaped. <em>Good!</em> She wasn't the only whore getting knocked around today. But...from the rumors she had heard (and she heard plenty!) this whore hadn't even had its first John so he wasn't earning his keep. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she pondered if Ryan was going to put him to work as a servant so that he could be useful in <em>some way</em>.<br><br>Her eyes flickered to Adi before they went back to River and she nodded, "Very well, Sir. There are still many more for you to choose from..." -- <em>If they would hurry up!</em> Zara looked over her shoulder at the stairs and idly wondered where the rest of the male whores were.<br><br>Honestly, she had other things to do.<br><br><em>And where the FUCK was Ryan?!</em></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>28-02-2011, 18:30:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cameron couldn't help but think back to Zara's response. She had taken his words entirely the wrong way but he could see why she might be upset. Yet it didn't matter much.<br><br>After all, he wasn't here at the Teahouse to make friends. No, on the contrary he was here on behalf of his friend and it was strictly professional in nature.<br><br>He shook his head, having stayed behind on the grass as Zara had stormed off. It didn't take him much time to lose his erection which he supposed was a good thing and he stood a few minutes later. It was time to get back in or else he might get scolded by the boss. Cameron seemed to be the only one who didn't call Ryan by a title. He didn't like calling anyone his master and that would never change, not if he had a choice in the matter. The white haired young man seemed to have missed the servant.<br><br>Of course the one he was referring to was the one who had been sent to gather the unoccupied male whores. But as fate would have it he entered the same exact room.<br><br>A bit late but then he had no idea that a customer was there. Or else he might have reacted differently. Cameron was just in time to witness the end scene.<br><br>Where some male whore was rushing off seemingly annoyed and Zara was there. A smirk came to his lips as he moved into the room and slung an arm around the woman's shoulders in a very casual gesture. "Still moping about not getting any customers, Zara? Don't worry, I'm sure this one will pick you up." Cameron teased, not being able to resist it. He let his emerald green eyes linger on River for a brief moment and then a smile flashed across his face. "Pick Zara here. She's really good at what she does."<br><br>He suggested with a twinkle in his eyes. "Her skills...well I'd say they're pretty good for a woman, if you're interested in that particular gender. But then, who isn't?" He said.<br><br>The man was probably straight anyway. It wouldn't hurt to play around, after all no lineup had been called. Cameron grinned at River, no sign of being shy.<br><br>None at all. But then, he wasn't trying to impress the customer, he was merely trying to amuse himself and others with his carefree attitude. And maybe Zara would get herself a lay, one that she apparently desperately needed. He grinned at the thought. Cameron was content with just playing around until he was chastised by Ryan. And so far that hadn't happened yet, it seemed he was quite lucky. Perhaps this life wouldn't be so bad after all until he had paid his friend's debt to the Teahouse and was released.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>28-02-2011, 18:54:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lessard did so appreciate silence and solitude. It was the main reason why his room was one of the furthest from the entrance hall of the grand building; he disliked intently hearing the murmur of voices inside his chambers and he found that he never was interrupted during his 'sessions', owing to his being so far away. Of course, it also may have had something to do with the somewhat intimidating manner in which he held himself that kept servants at bay, but regardless; the man was happy with his living conditions.<br><br>He had finished writing a letter to his mother and siblings and slid the paper (complete with a handsome sum of money into an envelope to pass it on the a courier when he felt sure that he heard footsteps just outside the door, but no knock. A small sigh passed between thin lips as he rose to his full height and brushed his hair back over his rather regal features. "If I am needed, it is best to simply knock and speak, rather than fret outside... Hm?" He said in a quiet, yet firm tone, steely blue eyes looking down through elegant spectacles at the servant who, it transpired, had been pacing slightly up and down the corridor outside Lessard's room.<br><br>"Ah! I'm sorry, Mr. Tabis, I'll do so in future... Ah... There was a call for... The male whores to assemble in the main room..." Lessard nodded simply and stepped from his room, placing a hand upon the servant's shoulder.<br><br>"Do not be so very nervous; I will not eat you, boy." He stated, the smallest hint of amusement in his eyes before he swept briskly down the hallway. He was already late and didn't wish to be any more so than was necessary and as he approached, his shoes clicked loudly upon the floor, a small frown of displeasure of his features as he spotted Adi in the distance.<br><br>He didn't speak to the boy, merely looked onwards at the ground in the common room and understood immediately understood what had happened. He paused in his graceful stride as he came to the other whore, placing a firm hand upon his shoulder. "I believe we have not had a drink together in some time. Later tonight, I would like to correct that... If you be so inclined." There was a slightly softer expression in those cold eyes as Lessard studied the poor boy for several moments, even squeezing his shoulder encouragingly before he moved away without waiting for an answer.<br><br>Adi was someone who stirred something of a protective urge within his body, and while Lessard would by no means do anything out of his way for the boy, he often enjoyed the occasional drink; Lord knows Adi needed someone to speak his troubles to, and it seemed he had many.<br><br>The smallest hint of a twitch came to a slender eyebrow as he noticed Cam's behaviour in front of the client, hands lifting to remove his glasses and idly clean them before replacing them upon his nose; a gesture used when he was irritated. "Inappropriate behaviour in front of a client..." He began, his tone quiet yet strong, controlled. "What would the Master say if he were here? You are not just making yourself look foolish, but this entire establishment... Think more on your actions." Clearly he was unimpressed as his voice took on more of a hard and warning quality before he looked to River, bowing his head slightly.<br><br>"My apologies for the delay in my arrival. Apparently the servant was troubled in regards to knocking upon my door." The more usual smirk came to his lips as he tilted his head ever so slightly to one side. <br><br>"What kind of appetite do you wish to satisfy at the Teahouse today?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 02:14:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				And another male entered the room, this time one obviously male. And very attractive. Until he opened his mouth, that is.<br>Cold grey eyes narrowed at Cameron.<br><br>"The miss on your side did not order a line-up of <em>males</em> without reason," he said coldly, then turned his attention back to Zara and folded his arms before his chest.<br>"I'm starting to believe you're the only one with any intelligence and passion here, miss. Such a shame you're not male, really," he added, a bit lower, shaking his head.<br><br>"Maybe my family was incorrect about the Teahouse. Maybe I should take my business somewhere else, instead," he mused, gaze drawing from both Cameron and Zara when yet another man entered. Apparently the line-up call was quite successful, even if it was a bit slow. Men seemed to be trickling in from all parts of the House. It evoked the slightest of smiles on River's porcelain features. A smile that broadened when the new arrival spoke to the white haired man, and, for the first time he entered this particular brothel, he had a feeling he might actually get what he desired.<br><br>The inclination of Lessard's head was met with his own. Polite for once. He didn't, however, lift his gaze again, sucking his lower lip in at the question of his appetite, gaze firmly on the floor while his cheeks flustered ever so slightly.<br><br>He really should test if his hunch was correct. He really should.. act like the spoiled little brat... see how he responded.<br><br>A slight frown to his forehead. Would he be disappointed again? It took a few moments for him to scrape together his mask again and he was able to look Lessard in the eye, a slight smirk forming on his own lips. He almost didn't dare speak. The smirk could break at any given time.<br><br>"I'm not too certain this particular brothel holds the quality I seek, mister...?" he said, one brow raising slowly as he felt the mask fall back into place.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 02:38:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lessard's eye were sharp. Extremely sharp and as he focused upon the potential client his eyebrow lifted ever so slightly at the reaction to his question, eyes narrowing ever so slightly behind thin spectacles. The return bow of the head was expected as a sign of simple politeness, however the fact that the man did not look back up for several moments caused a subtle curiosity to flicker to live within the elegant whore's mind; such a reaction could be simple nerves, but from how he had quite easily met Cameron's frankly embarrassing attitude, Lessard didn't think this client was such.<br><br>Neither did he think that he was akin to the servant in that he was intimidated by his presence; it was something else. Something much more.. Appealing. His lips curled into a soft yet somehow dark smile as he surveyed the flush that crept to those delightful slender cheeks, a thoughtful hum passing between his lips Definitely submissive in conversation. Whether it translated into personal tastes was a different matter, and while Lessard was almost certain it was the case, he disliked to assume such qualities without sure proof.<br><br>He was somewhat surprised when River looked him directly in the eye, their steely blue depths hardening significantly in response; challenging the man's response as he did so. He wanted to know just what he was dealing with; whether this was, as he suspected, something of a natural submissive, or someone with a little spark of defiance something that he did not stand for and would swiftly and effectively correct. Finally the potential client spoke, and Lessard openly arched an eyebrow, his eyes remaining cold and hard; calculating as he responded.<br><br>"I assure you; this establishment hosts a wide array of individuals capable of suiting almost any need." His tone was firm, unwavering and held a definite sense of power to it and he allowed himself the smallest of amused chuckles as his name was asked for, a hand lifting to tuck some long hair behind an ear. "My name is Lessard Tabris. Should you chose to venture into my chambers however, you will not be needing it." Somewhat cryptic words, though he was fairly sure River would pick up on the meaning.<br><br>"Now... I ask once more; what is it you are looking for...?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 02:54:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"My name is Lessard Tabris. Should you chose to venture into my chambers however, you will not be needing it."</em><br><br>River's mask shattered. Almost literally.<br>Breath caught in his chest and he had to look away, one hand forming into a fist to press against his lips, sleeve falling back to halfway his lower arm, showing Lessard a collection of cuts and burns that were healing quite nicely but were also very recent.<br><br>Those cold grey eyes closed for moments. His chest raised and fell for a deep breath.<br>Finally the arm fell back to the armrest, though his face stayed averted.<br><br>"My family send me to the Teahouse to prevent me getting scarred up in places that can not be covered by clothing, mister Tabris, " he said quietly "Because they are all too aware my passions can not be contained. Not by my House. Not by me."<br><br>He wanted to look up, see the man respond. He didn't however, he couldn't.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 03:09:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Delightful. Simply delightful.<br><br>There was really no other way to describe that wonderful shattering of the firm facade River used at such a simple comment. Lessard was a man who said very little, but spoke volumes all the same, as was mde certain in that immediate moment when the man turned away in such a shaken manner. It was all the whore could do to not laugh at such a reaction, however he held himself perfectly and took a slow and purposeful stride towards the seated client, a deep glimmer in those expressive eyes.<br><br>"Your 'passions', hmm...?" He ventured, his voice soft yet lethal; as though ti wavered on a knife edge. "What might they be, my dear client?" He used such a possessive form of address because by this point he was certain that River would not wish to persue any other; the marks upon that slender and tantalising flesh were proof enough, and while Lessard found himself disapproving of the blunt marking (his own were much more elegant)... He found the boy's partial honestly to be amusing.<br><br>He knew, of course, what the client wanted but it was part of the delicate balance he employed between being attentive to his clients needs (he was, after all; a whore) and maintaining the dominance over them; to make each person tell him what they wanted... What they <em>needed</em>. "Do you believe there is one here who can control these... Shameful passions?" It was clear in his tone that he found nothing shameful about it; it was all merely a part of the game he played...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 03:25:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As Lessard came closer, River swallowed, hard.<br>This had nothing to do with a client picking out a whore for his entertainment.<br>This was a whore stating he was the only choice the client had if he had half a brain.<br>Just how River had hoped it would be; decision taken from him.<br><br>He wondered how close he'd come. If he'd reach out. Touch.<br><br><em>"Do you believe there is one here who can control these... Shameful passions?"</em><br><br>His eyes opened, his face turned to him, jaws tensed as he looked up. Eyes narrowed.<br>Then he hissed. Low, quiet.<br>He had heard the man's intonation, yes. But those words...<br><br><em>Shameful.</em><br><br>Wrong. Incorrect. Unworthy the name of his House.<br><br>Anger raised from his gut to surface in words spoken as if they were encased in ice. Too much history of having to defend himself. Too much time spend in endless debates with his family.<br><br>They has said to disown him if he didn't change. Only his intelligence, his wit, his razor sharp tongue had saved him from that.<br><br>"There is nothing shameful in what I desire."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 03:37:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A smile. Small yet certainly visible came to Lessard's features at the small his that passed between River's lips, nodding his head slowly in response to the firm and sure words. Perfect. It wouldn't do to indulge one who felt any kind of shame regarding their appetites; for whatever the whore did in the privacy of his chambers, his one goal was to bring pleasure to those who visited... Certainly not to bring added shame onto their shoulders.<br><br>"Good." He stated simply, the pleasure clear in his tone before he stepped forward yet again, those deep, almost metallic blue eyes remaining fixed upon the boy's as a slender hand reached outward at a tortuously slow pace; River would have ample time to move away should he wish, but Lessard had a strong suspicion that no such move would be made. His fingers coiled gently around the boy's delicate chin, holding the face still in a firm and unwavering manner, his thumb caring to drift upward and brush ever so slightly over River's lower lip as he examinedclosely the pale face.<br><br>"Nothing shameful indeed..." He added softly, removing his hand and stepping back abruptly, closinghis eyes and slowly removing his glasses, breathing heavily upon the framesand deftly wipingthem clean, drawing out the silence before he replacedthem and tilted his head to one side, a slighthint of impatience in his tone as he spoke again, his voice hard and firm; suddenly rather strict.<br><br>"One more time... What do you desire from the Teahouse?"<br><br>He did not say it, but it was clear that he expected an answer... And it was very rare indeed that when Lessard truly meant something, he was denied...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 03:47:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lessard's reactions had River blinking. This man was.. too good to be true. There must be some catch. Was there?<br><br><em>God, tell me this is not some trick.. Tell me the family was right about the Teahouse.</em> shot through his mind.<br><br>Then he moved, even closer. And River, though he had plenty of time, did not move. At all. He could've sworn he didn't breath, either. Just stared up at him while his gaze softened, lips parted ever so slightly at the thumb trailing over one.<br><br>But.. he moved back, too. Away from him. Hnn...<br><br>Fluidly, he raised himself, one hand's fingertips running over the lip just touched, until he stood his full and hardly impressive 5'1.<br><br><em>"One more time... What do you desire from the Teahouse?"</em><br><br>He didn't hesitate for a moment, the single word dropping from his lips before he actually gave anything thought.<br><br>"You."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 03:58:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A brief flicker of the dangerous pasion that lingered beneath the smooth and calm exterior flashed through Lessard's eyes at the quick and simple response, his gaze flicking briefly to the other two in the room with a small "Hm." of distaste at their conduct before he nodded to River, turning away in a smooth and fluid motion. "My time is costly... Though considering your attitude, I am certain you have the wealth. Once we are done... You will speak to master Ryan about payment; do not think of leaving without..." He glanced over his shoulder, a small smile playing on his lips.<br><br>"I do not appreciate being played..."<br><br>He then turned back and simply began to walk away at a leisurely pace, a hand lifting and beckoning River to follow. "Come. And tell me your name; I believe I was absent when it was spoken." There was a high chance that he would not be using the name at all, but it was always pleasant to know regardless and not once did he look behind him to check whether the man was following...<br><br>Lessard knew he would be.<br><br>"I will examine the canvas I have to work with when we enter my chambers. You will be silent and still as I do so... Understand?" He added as an after thought preferring to be ale to begin immediately, rather than fuss about getting the introductions sorted...<br><br>There were so many more pleasurable things that could be done with his precious time, after all.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 04:14:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Those eyes, that look..<br>Though he didn't show it, they weren't in private yet, afterall, it made him.. melt. He craved to.. well? Submit, yes.<br>Predatorial.<br>Hints of pain. Or was he projecting now? Did he want this man to be what he maybe wasn't?<br><br>He almost smirked at the remark about how much this man's time would cost. Almost, but.. it faded. He had no need to defend himself in this manner now, did he?<br>"Yes, sir," he said, tone clear, then shook his head at his remark about being played.<br>"No, sir. I understand. It won't happen again, sir." It wasn't <em>needed</em> to happen again, if Lessard was what he appeared to be.<br><br>Of course he followed. Much like a moth to a flame.<br><br>"I am River Cho Ming, sir," he said in the same tone of voice, staying a respectful distance behind the other man, a slight smile broadening so quickly he lowered his gaze to the ground to keep it from being too noticeable.<br><br>"Yes, sir," he answered his last question and bit his lower lip.<br>He was hardly untouched.. How would he respond to seeing all those markings on his flesh..?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 04:29:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">A shudder rippled down her frame when Zara felt Cameron put his arm around her shoulder in such a casual manner. That was the second time the damn whore was being rather casual in how he touched her. And...it wasn't the best time to push her buttons.<br><br>Something inside of Zara snapped.<br><br>And then...she heard Lessard's voice and a low hiss escaped her, eyes narrowing as they turned to stare at the man striding forward. Everything about Lessard annoyed her. He was calm, cool and collected and she <em>loathed</em> him for that. Zara did everything in her power to never go near him. Because when she did; her emotions seemed to double. He was like a bloody robot! And what did Zara hate more than seeing him? Knowing when he was right. And as he spoke about Cameron...Zara knew he was right.<br><br>The damn whore was making the entire Teahouse look bad.<br><br>She clenched her jaw, grinding her molars so hard that when she caught the inside of her lip, she instantly drew blood. The taste of her own blood soothed her -- but not enough. She wanted blood, but it wasn't her blood she wanted.<br><br>The instant River followed Lessard, Zara slammed her elbow into Cameron's stomach and jerked her fist up to punch him in the face in a quick move before she wheeled to face him, jabbing him in the chest with her fingernail, "Listen to me, you bloody <em>fucking</em> sack of shit. If you touch me again without my consent, I will rip you in half. Do not test me." Her hazel eyes were so bright, they looked like she was on the verge of tears. But quite the contrary; Zara was on fire.&nbsp; Her voice was low enough that River's would not be able to hear but her words were laced in acid, the venom pure and simple. "You might not care about the Teahouse but this is all we have. So if you're done playing whore..." She smirked and ran her eyes up and down his frame, adding coldly, "Which you're <em>worthless</em> at since no one has picked you...pack up your shit and leave."<br><br>She slammed her finger into his chest once more, uncaring if she left marks or not, her eyes staring into his, "Do not ever embarrass me like that in front of a Client again, nitwit."<br><br>She wasn't done with him; the anger was still boiling deep inside of her...but Ryan was no where in sight. She couldn't very well complain to the Master of the House when he wasn't available to her. And truth be told, Zara hated visiting Ryan's office. It scared the shit out of her.<br><br>So instead she did the only thing that could calm her -- and would still keep her available for any other Johns or Janes -- and turned slowly to make her way towards the piano.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 04:34:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Though Lessard did neither turned back, nor showed any hint that he was pleased as River took up the correct form of address, he was inwardly rather delighted by his find this morning. It was rare that such guests ever entered the Teahouse, and while he had a slow but steady stream of loyal customers, things had grown somewhat stale; it was wonderful to bring something-someone, rather... Into the frame.<br><br>"Indeed, it will not." he reinforced River's words simply, his tone slowly hardening as they made their way closer to his quarters, moving up the stairs and along the long corridor to the end where his room resided. he rather hated disobedience and having to repeat himself, especially when he had given an express warning about it before; for the boy's sake, he had best not repeat the mistake of not answering a direct question again.<br><br>"River... Hmm..." he repeated the name slowly, almost tasting each syllable on his tongue before he nodded with a small chuckle. "A delightful name, boy." He wouldn't be using it, much as River would not be using his. It was all part of the firm hierarchy that Lessard employed in his work; the clients technically chose him,but always he was the one in control... Always.<br><br>"I have guessed already by your arm that your body will not be as bare as I would like." He said, detecting the slight unease that lingered in River's tone as he spoke regarding his wish to inspect. "I am not unreasonable in my expectations. Though they are high, I am confident that you will meet them... And if not; I will work on you until you do." It was a simple enough practice in Lessard's mind and he stopped abruptly as he reached his door, turning to look upon the boy, peering down from his rather impressive height advantage.<br><br>"When we enter you will not speak unless spoken to. Neither will you move unless instructed. The only thing you may do of your own accord, should you wish me to stop, is utter the word 'orange'. If your lips are otherwise occupied, likewise you will click your fingers three time[s... Do so for me now." he was a firm believer in rules; in ensuring that none of his clients were truly harmed by what he did...<br><br>He wanted them to return to him, after all, and there was an art to pain that required finesse and respect on both sides./color]
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 04:45:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>...boy...</em><br><br>He nearly tripped, but was able to catch himself just in time, cheeks flaring up a bright red. Not so much at how he had responded to being addressed in that manner but by nearly planting his face in the floorboards.<br><br>Oh good God, this was hardly his first time, so why was he so very.. impressed?<br>He could feel butterflies demanding free space of flight in his body.<br>That feeling increased on the journey through the manor. By the time they reached Lessard's quarters, he was shivering!<br><br>Looking up at him, feeling so very small and yet growing under his gaze, he could barely nod, swallowing something away again.<br>God, this man had some aura..<br><br>A save word? Most brothels hadn't really bothered. It made him feel a lot more safe and he gladly followed Lessard's command to click his fingers three times.<br>It did make him wonder if he actually had need of this, but.. one could never really know. River hadn't found his own boundaries so far. Maybe Lessard could...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>01-03-2011, 04:56:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lessard nodded, a slight hint of an approving smile upon his features as the clear click was made. "I will not remind you again, so ensure that you remember... I will not stop if you simply tell me to do so." Indeed, several of his clients seemed to enjoy shouting at him to stop even as they writhed beneath him. Personally, Lessard didn't understand the appeal; he found nothing wrong in simply enjoyingpain,much in the same way that he enjoyed giving it... To each their own, he assumed.<br><br>He didn't pay any attention to how othersoperated, whether it was in the Teahouse or other brothels; while he had a great deal of respect for Master Ryan, who ran the house so smoothly, he naturally liked to do things his own way and as he had maintained his place for no less than five years... He was certainly doing something right.<br><br>"Goo boy..." he cooed softly, a hand reaching upward to gently cup River's cheek,fingers running idly through silken hair. Though the gesture seemed gentle, almostloving, the whore maintained the air of one who was inspecting a prized animal;something certainly beneath him, and as he opened the door to his well furnished room, he stepped smoothly inside,his hand drawing slowly fromthe boy's cheek.<br><br>"You may enter. Close the door behind you..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>helbling</strong> on <strong>02-03-2011, 14:03:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Taking one’s hat off one’s head upon entering a building was a habit long ingrained in Imogen, and far too deeply at that to be ignored or skipped over, regardless of how uncomfortable or out-of-her-ease she happened to be.<br><br>Which, as she stepped into the teahouse and automatically tucked her hat under one arm, she admitted was quite a bit.<br><br>She had heard good things about this place, and at first glance, it at least looked like what had been talked about. This whole ‘spending time on land’ malarky was getting boring, so when a couple of her ‘saltier’ old business acquaintances had been discussing what they’d do if they’d made their fortunes and this place’s name came up, she couldn’t help but be intruiged. <br><br>Unfortunately, while intruige may have carried her across the threshold, it did not do anything to indicate what the etiquette was in a place like this. Did she wander until she found something she liked, or was it a case of waiting to be waited on?<br><br>For one horrifying moment, she actually felt an urge to dither in the entrance way – something most uncharacteristic for her – so she strode into what appeared to be a very elegantly decorated common room, even if some of the ornaments were a tad too floral for her tastes.<br><br>At a lack of what else to do, she cleared her throat rather sharply, and stood in her normal not-quite-at-attention posture, to see whether anyone would appear to attend her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>02-03-2011, 14:50:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Calmness came over her as she began to play the first couple of notes on the piano but it was soon interrupted by a sound from behind her. Her head whipped around, mouth open to rip into whoever came to interrupt her now when she caught sight of the unknown person entering the common room. Whatever she was going to say died in her throat as she took one look at the John -- No! Jane.<br><br>"Welcome to the Teahouse," Zara said automatically, leaving the piano alone to slide out of her seat and make her way towards the new client. <em>For another male whore, of course,</em> Zara thought bitterly and almost -- <em>almost!</em> -- rolled her eyes. Instead she pasted on a fairly polite smile, "My apologies that the Master is not here to greet you but he is unavailable at the present time..." <em>doing who knows what,</em> Zara added mentally with a flash in her eyes, <em>But that's quite alright! Since I'm now the spinster whore!!</em>.<br><br>With a polite curtsy, Zara added, "May I ask what brings you here so that I may be able to do a line up for you?" <em>And then I can go back to my music...!</em></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>helbling</strong> on <strong>02-03-2011, 19:10:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>”My apologies that the Master is not here to greet you but he is unavailable at the present time... “</em><br><br>The master? So this must be...the mistress? And therefore probably not for hire, which was a bit of a shame to Imogen's mind. She had always had a bit of a thing for women with dark hair and curves in the right places, even if the woman in front of her was wearing – erk – a colour that could definitely be described as disgusting pastel shade.<br><br><em>"May I ask what brings you here so that I may be able to do a line up for you?"</em><br><br>Imogen fought the urge to grin with relief and, thankfully, won – well, that was one worry off her mind. She'd been concerned that anyone here would be the philosophical, literary type; far more likely to wander into verbal metaphors than to just come out and say what they mean, which meant most of the conversation would have been over her head and she'd have been in for a frustrating time.<br><br>Maybe this place <em>would</em> be all it was rumoured to be. How pleasant.<br><br>As it was, her facial expression remained deadpan, although she couldn't help a small quirk of her eyebrow.<br><br>“I'm looking for someone who likes to submit – who likes a bit of pain with their pleasure. An outright masochist will not be necessary, but definitely someone who...” she paused for a second while she wondered how to word it. “...Enjoys a bit of spice. Ideally female.”<br><br>She watched the woman, wondering if any particular recommendations would be put forth.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>02-03-2011, 19:45:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><em>"Ideally female."</em></span><br><br><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">The last part of the Jane's comment caused Zara to pause and tilt her head curiously. She had been ready to chuck her over to the men and have another flippin' roll call while she became REALLY good friends with the brandy. But...that last bit of news interested her quite a bit. And what made it even better? Fiona was occupied, so the only female whore was...her!<br><br>God, she felt like a fuckin' puppy begging for scraps.<br><br>"Well," Zara said slowly, her hazel eyes running up and down the female's figure in a slow manner before her lips curved into a slightly sensual smile. "There are only two female whores in the entire Manor. Myself...and Fiona. And <strong>unfortunately</strong>," it was obvious from the tone that she used that Zara was being a bit sarcastic, "Fiona is with a client already. So...I am at your service."<br><br>And suddenly -- because she had just been having the shittiest luck! -- Zara added, "Unless...of course...you wish to wait for Fiona. In which case, who knows when she will be done." <em>Or when she will shut her trap about her literary blah blah blah</em>, Zara silently added, a slight eager light in her hazel eyes.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>helbling</strong> on <strong>02-03-2011, 20:05:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Imogen really couldn't stop her lips from quirking into a small smile then as she looked the woman up and down a little more obviously this time. And she appreciated what she saw.<br><br><em>Oh, very nice.</em> Even in that awful colour. Imogen wasn't exactly well acquainted with fashion, but she had something of an inkling that this woman, pretty in peach, would be breathtaking in rich chocolate or deep burgundy. <em>Enough Starke,</em> she thought crossly at herself. <em>You buy their time, not control over their every aspect.</em><br><br>But there had been no answer as to the other parts of her request - and she needed to know. Nothing was more of a let down and a turn off than someone who was going through the motions with no obvious enthusiasm for what was going on.<br><br>"You are certainly what I'm looking for physically..." she said. "But do you suit in terms of taste? I am willing to wait if the other is better suited, or look to the men - while I prefer women, I'm not restrictive in my taste."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>02-03-2011, 20:54:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">The delight shone in Zara's eyes when the Jane told her she was what she was looking for physically. When she made the comment about the taste though, Zara's lips twitched slightly. As if Zara would turn down a bit of rough sex. It might actually be what keeps her sane in a house full of fuckin' imbeciles.<br><br>Bowing her head respectfully, Zara made sure to keep her eyes lowered as she responded quietly, but the pleasure evident in her voice, "Mistress, I can assure you that there is nothing that you can do to me that I will say no to. Whatever you desire...whatever you want...You have to only but do it and I will happily accept it."<br><br>There was no way in hell she was going to lose another client to one of the other whores. If she did, then there would be no doubt that the entire household would hear her scream.<br><br>And <em>if</em> it happened...then God help the whore who did it.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>helbling</strong> on <strong>02-03-2011, 21:12:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The smile was predatory this time, and heat crept into Imogen's gaze before she could stop it; she reached out almost involuntarily to gently grip the woman's chin and raise it so she could see her eyes.<br><br><em>Perfect.</em><br><br>And by god, she was going to have her out of those clothes faster than she could blink.<br><br>Of course, there was a slight hitch to her stride-off-masterfully plan given she didn't actually know where she was going, so she simply met the woman's eyes with a level gaze she'd been told was just a little unsettling by some of her old underlings, and let the silence go on for a beat before answering.<br><br>"Then I would be very pleased you enjoy your...company. Please lead on."<br><br>But this 'mistress' business was definitely not to her liking - thankfully, an alternative presented itself in her mind wonderfully swiftly.<br><br>"And please call me Captain. Although I didn't catch your name."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>02-03-2011, 21:44:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">The grip of her chin made Zara's bottom lip quiver slightly as she drew in a breath. She felt the strength in the woman and felt her body grow warm under the gaze. How she hungered for the fingers to be elsewhere...to do things to her body that made her cry out in pain and pleasure.<br><br>As if that wasn't enough, what the Jane said next surely made Zara's breath catch, her eyes darkening into pools of desire.<br><br><em>Captain.</em><br><br>"My name is Zara, Captain," She responded as she regretfully stepped away from the woman and turned, calling over her shoulder as she looked at her, "And please...if you will follow me, I shall take you to a more private location."<br><br>Her eyes did not focus on anyone or anything else; she had one destination and one destination only. Her bedroom. Because once she was in there...Zara had a feeling that the Captain was going to be the one calling all the shots.<br><br>And she couldn't wait!<br><br>(continued in Zara's Room (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98328.msg4324337#msg4324337) )</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>07-03-2011, 20:02:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cameron glanced over to see Lessard enter the room. Yet another he had not met and he let his emerald eyes linger on the man for a moment. Not bad looking he thought.<br><br>That was until he opened his mouth and Cameron made a face. Oh, so he was one of those types? A whore who tried to act like a master but wasn't one.<br><br>But he did have a point. It didn't matter what sort of name or reputation he made on others here. However, if he made the establishment seem foolish that was a problem. Cameron thought about it for a moment and was surprised when the client spoke of a male lineup being ordered. Well he hadn't known about such a thing since no one had informed him. But he knew better than to simply come out and say such a thing, it would make him seem petty. Not an impression he wished to leave on the other male.<br><br>He watched as Lessard and River engaged in a bout of playful flirtations. How...interesting to say the least. Cameron was somewhat surprised to find that River was a bottom.<br><br>It made sense though he supposed. Cameron was caught off guard when Zara suddenly slammed her elbow into his stomach and he doubled over a bit.<br><br>That had been quite unexpected. Not so much the fist to the face, although if she had done it earlier he would have been ready to avoid it. As it was, the fist slammed directly into his face and he stumbled backward a few steps. "Ow!" He exclaimed and then Zara was jabbing him in the chest with her fingernail and hissing at him like a snake that had just lost its prey. It wasn't that it had hurt that much - he was used to much harsher shit from the gang - but the surprise had been genuine along with his reaction.<br><br>"Fine." Cameron said in response to Zara's words. He would not touch her again, not even if she asked him to. Or he was asked to by anyone. It wasn't as if he was crushing.<br><br>He preferred men. Of course he saw the brightening in her eyes but Cameron did not draw any conclusions about them. Instead, he moved away from Zara.<br><br>The woman's words made him frown. "How can one whore make the entire Teahouse look bad?" Cameron asked, raising a brow. "It's not like I try to sabotage the place intentionally. I have my reasons for being here too and I can't leave even if I wanted to." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. Well Zara probably wasn't paying him any attention anyway so that was a good thing. This wasn't really the place he had wanted to spend any amount of time at, even as a client.<br><br>If Mason hadn't gotten into this mess...well he wouldn't blame his friend. His parents were uncaring assholes in his opinion although they had control of Mason for a time.<br><br>Until he became independent. Cameron was now alone in the room that Lessard, River and Zara had vacated.<br><br>He sighed to himself and for a moment his eyes took on a hint of loneliness. Cameron didn't really know anyone here and he didn't much care for the content of the job description and was somewhat happy he hadn't gotten chosen yet. But at the same time that was a bad thing since it meant he couldn't pay off Mason's debt. Should he really have sacrificed himself for his friend? Cameron missed the TT and the action he was missing out on. But of course he could never show those feelings to anyone else. Not really.<br><br>Going over to a small table in the room, he placed his sketchbook on top of the surface and took out a few pencils. Then, he began to start sketching an old samurai sword.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MomoPeach</strong> on <strong>09-03-2011, 05:49:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Annabelle finished pinning her hair up on top of her head before she gazed into the mirror with a satisfied smile. As usual the girl was late, but that still didn't stop her from taking her time and making sure that she looked absolutely <em>parfait.</em> Picking up a blue seashell shaped bottle of perfume she squeezed the bulb and felt the droplets hit her skin gently as the aroma of flowers wafted to her nose. Her fingertips grazed over her jewelry and she decided on a pearl necklace with the cameo of her mother against a black background. Once the necklace was fastened in place she stood and inspected herself in the mirror. She had chosen gold and black for the day and she liked the way the material of the dress &nbsp;(http://th00.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2010/228/1/c/GOLD_Victorian_Goth_Stock_002_by_FroweMinahildStock.jpg) clung to her waist and then tapered out leaving much to be imagined. Her smooth, pale breasts were pushed up into view and her makeup was adjusted until she was satisfied. The girl slipped a pair of black lace gloves over her fingers before adjusting her stockings and slipping into black heels. Finally ready to greet the day she walked over to the door and stood there a moment with her hand on the knob. "Please just let this be a good day," she whispered to herself. <br><br>Annabelle stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind her quietly before walking down the stairs. It looked pretty empty, which wasn't really a surprise seeing as how she was so late. Still it had been like this for the past month. The girl hardly ever saw the other whores between staying to herself in her room and servicing the clients that she received. She was happy that Master Ryan had given her a chance here, but sometimes she wondered if this was the right place for her? Still, it couldn't be helped. This place was safe, untouched and undefiled by her father. She knew that if, no when, he found her this life would be over and because of that she took joy in what she did. It was new and exciting, liberating and taboo. <br><br>As she walked into the common room she saw a male sitting and sketching away. This one she didn't know. A few of the others she had seen around, but not one who's hair was as striking as the one who sat before her. Annabelle bit her lip anxiously. She wasn't sure how to approach him. There were some in this place, two in particular, that seemed bitchy beyond all belief and she stayed out of their way, but with this one she couldn't tell. Finally Annabelle shook her head at herself for making things more complicated then they had to be. <br><br>Strolling into the room slowly so as not to trip over her dress she walked over to the man and looked down at his book before looking back at him and smiling. "Good morning. Or at least I think it's still morning," she mumbled not quite sure herself not having looked at the clock before she left her room. "Everyone has clients then? What are you drawing?" Annabelle could feel the sun streaming in on her skin and she stepped out of the way of it's beams. The sun was not her friend. She fiddled with a bit of lace on her gloves while she gazed at the man before her. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>09-03-2011, 19:51:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He had made the outline sketch of the sword. Now he needed to fill in the rest of the object which he would do carefully. It would not look good if he messed up at this stage.<br><br>It was around this time that he heard footsteps outside the room. But he paid no attention to them, not until whoever it was ended up letting words escape.<br><br>Probably Zara or someone else just passing through and as such he would be better off not saying anything anyway. But when an unfamiliar voice assaulted his eardrums, Cameron looked up, to let his emerald eyes focus on the newcomer. "It's afternoon, I think everyone's busy with clients or eating lunch." He told her bluntly like he always tended to do. His nature was usually either blunt or flirtatious, depending on the person and the situation of course. "I'm Cameron." The white haired male said with a nod.<br><br>He stretched out his hand and put down his pencil. "Oh this? Don't have any clients and was bored, so I ended up sketching. What about you?" Cameron asked looking up at her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MomoPeach</strong> on <strong>10-03-2011, 00:33:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Oh Master Ryan won't be happy to hear that. Let's just keep that between us," she said with a smile. She picked up her dress and sat down on a chair, back straight, fingers laced on her lap. The proper woman in all aspects, but her choice of employment. She adjusted the pearl necklace letting her fingers glide gracefully over her skin. She hoped she would get a customer today. Things had been slow for her, the "innocent" one. She made enough so that Ryan hadn't said anything bad to her she believed and enough to keep her wardrobe supplied, but beyond that she was running out of money fast. <br><br>"I'm Annabelle or just Belle." His eyes were on her as she bit her bottom lip softly. "Well I'm late so I hope I can get at least one customer today," she said with a sigh. She ran her fingers over the material of the chair that she was sitting in letting her pale pink colored fingernails drag softly. <br><br>"I guess I could practice my violin, but I thought I better come downstairs and show my face today." She felt a loose strand of hair land on her bare, pale back and she sighed. Her hair always had a mind of it's own it seemed. She pulled a pin out of the top of her lace glove and popped it back into place before patting the bleach blond hair. "No clients today? I haven't seen you around the Teahouse before. Although that's not very surprising. I usually keep to my room." Annabelle knew that she was rambling, but in all honesty she couldn't help it. It was just the way that she was. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>11-03-2011, 19:08:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cameron looked over at Annabelle when she spoke and a slight twitch came to his lips. "You been here long?" He asked, wondering if she knew the others in the brothel here.<br><br>He made a face when she asked about clients. "Nah, seems like I'm lucky in that department." The white haired male said, his words probably sounding odd.<br><br>After all, if he were here, didn't that mean he wanted clients to make use of him? "I'm new. Only been here for a few days now and never been in a lineup before. I think I just missed one though a few minutes ago. But no one informed me and I kind of barged into it." Cameron said with a smirk as if he found the encounter rather amusing. The expression left his face a moment later as he recalled the words Less had used, not that he cared about what the other male thought but the establishment was another matter.<br><br>"You play violin?" He asked, finding the need to carry on the conversation. It wasn't as if he had anything else to do. He liked sketching but he wasn't very far along right now.<br><br>So he could afford to spend some time chatting with a fellow whore. That is until she got herself a client. "This sort of dress your style or Ryan get it for you?"<br><br>It wasn't the usual sort that he had seen around the brothel but then he hadn't really familiarized himself with the others here. Not that well at any rate, he hadn't had the time or the interest in doing so. Perhaps that would change in the future. Cameron set down the items he was holding in his hand and leaned back against the chair he was sitting in as he let his emerald eyes focus on Annabelle. What would she have to say to him? Maybe she could provide some amusement. That would be rather interesting.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MomoPeach</strong> on <strong>12-03-2011, 01:05:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Annabelle shook her head when Cameron spoke to her. "I've only been here for a month in all honesty and most of the time I keep to myself, just to avoid problems." She watched him as he spoke about being lucky to not have any clients in surprise. "Lucky? I find myself hoping that I at least get one client a day."<br><br>Annabelle watched the man smile, but watched it just as quickly dissipate into thin air. 'I wonder what that's about?' However she didn't pry. It did explain though why she had never seen him before. Between entertaining clients and shutting herself up in her room there had been little time for much else. Usually the only time the girl did wander out of her room was to snatch up something to eat before she returned to solitude. <br><br>Annabelle realized that she had been looking down, lost in her own thoughts for a moment before she heard Cameron's voice again. It took her a moment to register what he had said, but then she smiled. "Yes I do. I actually was able to keep my favorite glass violin. I'm surprised you haven't heard me playing it. I tend to play it at odd hours," she said with a shy smile. She mostly played it in those odd hours when the world was still and her head was still haunted with images from her past. Playing was the only thing that helped her relax and sleep. <br><br>Annabelle watched him set down his tools before she spoke again. She looked down at her dress and then back over at him. "Oh no, Master Ryan didn't ask for this. It's more of my personal tastes that inspire it. I always find that a certain element of classiness has been lost because of the clothes people wear now." She bit her lip as she said it realizing how she must have sounded, like a stuck up, pretentious girl. "Well, you know what I mean I hope," she said with a small laugh.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>13-03-2011, 06:06:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span class="bbc_u">Rubee's Room and Office:</span><br><br>"What the fuck," Rubee Mariana (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98038.msg4363796#msg4363796) muttered beneath her breath as she scratched out the numbers on the piece of paper and went through the calculations for the fifth time finding each time her assumptions were correct. Damn, she hated when she had to be right in this area because by her calculations money was missing at least two times a week for certain clients. Someone was either not putting down all of the money made from their night or the client was giving the whores pieces of paper with money written on it. If this was true, she needed to talk to Master Ryan and the head accountant about the discrepancies in the account. She was the Accountant's assistant whenever he was not around to be here twenty-four seven for he had another accounting job somewhere else but Rubee liked to double check everything including the booking log for the times the clients came in to see the patrons of the Teahouse. Good Lord, a few weeks back a client came in on another date than the one penciled down and thought to blame her for the mishap. The only back up she had were copies of the log book to verify the client was to come in the following day at the exact same time for their time with one of the whores.<br><br>What was she going to do? The head accountant would not be in for a few more hours and last she saw of Master Ryan, he was in his room with Atticus, his right hand man. The two must be talking about how large the sum was going for Anel's virginity. All ready the bid was up to twice the original asking amount within the last hour and Rubee bet it would triple in the next thirty minutes. The last bid came only a mere twenty minutes ago and it was the only other thing keeping Rubee slightly sane along with the phonograph (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9h9eCkklzHA/TLLw01BTR8I/AAAAAAAAAU8/Q7e5BgRzpuc/s1600/edison_phonograph_idelia.jpg) playing Beethoven's 'Fur Elise' to keep her occupied for the moment. "I need to tell him now but I need to hurry in case the courier gets back with how big the bid is for Anel," she said beneath her breath, stacking her papers and putting her pen ink back into its stand and topped the bottle of her ink. She had never heard about any male in this area being a virgin let alone a whore but Anel must really know how to keep his ass from being ploughed by any male or female client here at the Teahouse. <br><br>As Rubee removed the needle to interrupt Beethoven, the sounds of groans and moans resounded against the wall to the left of her. She thought she imagined it but was one of the moaning voices Atticus? Surely Atticus was not using Master Ryan's personal office and bedroom as a place to conduct his liaison with one of the whores from the establishment. She knew and heard about his last occupation as an ex-whore but she never brought it up thinking that the past was the past; the past should be left to fade away. For her, she knew the past needed to stay away if she wanted to take another breath or send more money to her child at the end of the week. Yet, to hear Atticus moaning meant he had broken the celibacy he had taken since arriving at the Teahouse. Rubee arrived a few weeks after Atticus but she never really got to know the man seeing he was the right hand and would most likely not want to get stuck in idle talk when he should be protecting and watching over Master Ryan. Yet, not it seemed Atticus was betraying the trust by bringing in someone to get him to pop his celibacy cherry just made Rubee shake her head in disappointment. <br><br>"If Master Ryan finds out, he is surely going to boot his ass out onto the street," she muttered, getting close to the wall and pressing her ear to get a better sound of what was going on in Master Ryan's room. If Atticus was having dalliances with other women or men, she wanted to know before the rest of the whores started their gossip mongering. <em>"Massssterrr..."</em>. Hearing Atticus call out the word 'Master' brought both of her eyebrows to shoot up near her hairline. The only person in the established called Master was Master Ryan. Was Master Ryan in his office dallying away with Atticus? The next few seconds were critical as she heard the other individual deep groan and confirmed with satisfaction that it was Master Ryan having his wicked way with his own right hand, Atticus. She should have realized Atticus and Master Ryan would have a much more closer relationship than just employee and employer but to hear that made Rubee realized that this place was the worst place to try and pick up someone to spend their lives with; everyone here was a whore and everyone was getting paid to be a whore. <br><br>Rubee waited a few more minutes, leaving the safety of her office and leaning against the closed door of her office as she watched Mary the Servant come and then go into the office. "Seems Atticus and Master Ryan are done with their tete-a-tete," she murmured, smiling but knowing the reason to speak to Master Ryan wiped the smile off of her face. She needed to explain and show Master Ryan the figures knowing he might ask if she went over the numbers thoroughly. After scratching and doing the numbers six times, there was not lie in her words. Money was missing from the account and someone was going to have to pay for it. When she figured it was time to interrupt the lovely couple, Rubee knocked three times on the door of Master Ryan's and announced herself, "Master Ryan, this is Rubee Mariana, I wanted to speak with you about some financial matters. I do not think it can wait considering the gravity of the situation." Rubee stood and waited, wondering what was going to be on the other side of the door.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>14-03-2011, 02:40:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				So it seemed as if she didn't know anyone here. Epic fail. He let his eyes linger on the female for a moment. "I guess I should have said unlucky then." Cam said with a shrug.<br><br>Of course he should have known she wouldn't understand. No one would because he hadn't told them, after all why should he open up to the whores?<br><br>It wasn't as if he wanted to make friends here. This was just a favor he was doing until he had paid off the debt. But then again, he should get some clients at least in order to gain some money. Maybe if he changed his tune and attitude he could snare someone. However, that was easier said than done. Cameron's attitude was flirtatious and cocky, something that didn't go well with those who came to the Teahouse. Not to mention the fact that he made it seem as if he didn't care about what others thought.<br><br>And then there was the fact that he always tended to speak his mind rather than stay silent or lie. Most people couldn't handle him and thus the reason why he was alone.<br><br>"How many clients have you gotten so far?" He asked curiously, wondering what sort of success rate she had here. Cameron raised a brow at her words.<br><br>Now that was something he didn't hear every day. "A <em>glass</em> violin? Wouldn't that be really easy to break?" Ah, so she played it at late hours in the night. It was a wonder he hadn't heard a ruckus being caused by the other whores. "Where I am, it's not easy to hear things in the distance." Cameron murmured cryptically. He tended to take midnight strolls around the brothel to get fresh air and ruminate on what his gang was doing right about now. During the night was when they used to roll often.<br><br>Lucky for Annabelle, Cameron wasn't particularly interested in her clothing choice. He had merely asked because it had struck his attention, not his interest and that was all.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MomoPeach</strong> on <strong>14-03-2011, 18:42:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				If Annabelle had to be completely honest with herself she would admit that she kind of liked Cameron. He was straight forward, direct. Something that she appreciated in people. In France there was always a lot of verbal waltzing, dancing around the truth and sending cutting remarks behind pristine smiles. Annabelle herself had gotten quite skilled at the art, but that didn't mean she had to like it at all. <br><br>Annabelle shrugged at the question. "I've had the odd visitor here and there. Picked out of the line up, but never requested." She leaned back into her chair and sighed before crossing her legs at her ankles. "No one returns though. Wonder what that says of my services?" She mumbled. Annabelle had been feeling a bit insecure as of late. With no firm hand to guide her she found that she often wandered through things instead of really focusing and giving her all. <br><br>Annabelle smiled as her violin was brought up. "Oh no, it's very strong. It's beautiful really, one of a kind. It was made for me for a birthday. I've had it a long time." She thought back fondly to her home and how she had entertained guests on numerous occasions with either a popular composition or one that she had written herself. Sometimes she simply played as her mood dictated not following any notes or model. <br><br>As Cameron spoke Annabelle smiled mischievously. "Do not tell me that they keep you in the basement for lack of customers?" She said with a teasing grin. She shook her head. "And where might you be so late at night? That is, if you don't mind me prying. However you don't seem to mind prying me for information."&nbsp; She turned to him resting her cheek on her hand as she propped her elbow on the arm of the chair. "So, where <em>do</em> you go exactly?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>15-03-2011, 02:27:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It seemed he was the only one who hadn't had a client. Perhaps that said something about him? Or not. It wasn't as if he had been trying to get a client to pick him from a lineup.<br><br>Cameron made a face, should he try harder next time? To at least be able to claim he'd had one customer. It would look better for the place he supposed.<br><br>But at the same time, he wasn't the sort that liked to mold himself in an image others liked. His nature was wild and untamed and he did what he wanted. Most of the time that was to simply have fun and protect his interests which at the moment happened to be the brothel. He sighed to himself as he recalled Zara and Less's words. It wasn't as if their words were wrong but they really needed to loosen up or they would probably drive themselves into the ground attempting to be perfect. There was a limit to perfection.<br><br>"People like variety. They probably wanted you first because of your looks." Cameron said bluntly and raised a brow when she spoke of the violin and how it had been a present.<br><br>He raised a brow when Annabelle asked if they kept him in the basement due to his lack of customers. "No, they do not!" The blond laughed at the thought.<br><br>If they had done so, he wouldn't have been happy. When Cameron wasn't happy bad things tended to happen. It didn't help that he was part of a well known gang around the area he lived in. Of course he didn't have much influence here since he was working as a whore in a brothel but that experience had made him into someone who wasn't to be trifled with. The unfortunate part was that he couldn't engage in much violence here or else he might end up jeopardizing his friend's debt. He couldn't have that happen.<br><br>It was one thing to not have customers. It was quite another to injure other workers and the clients themselves. Cameron knew she was joking about it but the thought lingered.<br><br>"I tend to take walks outside at night to clear my head. Keeps me on my toes." He told her, not saying the whole truth - which was that he was used to it.<br><br>Mostly because of how his gang operated. But she didn't need to know that. Cameron tended to be at his best at night and it was also when his friend called to keep him up to date on how things were going back home. He stretched his arms and legs to release any kinks and cracked his knuckles as he regarded Annabelle. "So what brings you down early? You said you almost never come down and show yourself." He remarked and waited for a response to come from the woman. It was a logical question to put forth.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MomoPeach</strong> on <strong>16-03-2011, 00:01:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As Cameron commented that they wanted her because of her looks she smiled sweetly. "Are you saying that I'm pretty? I'm flattered." She laughed before shaking her head. "No, but really, this <em>is</em> a whore house you know. Of course they're going to choose you based on your looks. Makes me wonder even more why no one's chosen you. Though I guess if I thought about it I'd be able to tell right away. Could it perhaps be your tongue that gets you denied?" She said it sweetly, but she meant every word. <br><br>Annabelle smiled when she elicited a laugh from the man. 'Well, at least he can take a joke it seems.' As she glanced at him she wondered again why he hadn't gotten a customer. He certainly wasn't lacking in the looks department, and his eyes seemed sharp. He was certainly one you would have to work harder to keep your secrets from. Still, she guessed it was true. While his tongue hardly frightened her away, she had been cut far worse by the words of her own father, she could see how it could turn some potential clients away. <br><br>"Keeps you on your toes," Annabelle intoned, pursing pink lips and nodding. "Cameron, you have a bit of an ominous side, don't you?" Annabelle wasn't so blind herself it seemed. She couldn't think of any plausible reason for "keeping on one's toes" unless it had something to do with trouble, something she knew all too well about. <br><br>The woman's eyes lingered on his body as he stretched, but her mind was miles away thinking about her own troubles that were sure to catch up to her some day. 'Later rather than sooner I hope.' If she could make enough money here when the time did come that she had to flee from <em>him</em> she could be better prepared and perhaps escape once more.<br><br>"Hmmm? Oh, you were saying something." Her face contorted as she tried to remember what the man asked her. Finally her face lit up. "Oh yes, you were asking why I was down so early, no?" She tapped a pale digit against her skin and thought for a moment. "Well, it has been a while since I've had a client, so that's one reason. Funds are starting to run low and I have to do my part. Also..." She trailed off as she looked to the side, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. "I don't know, I guess I finally got lonely enough to come out. You can only isolate yourself for so long before you miss some kind of human contact, or maybe that's just me. Either way, I'm out and about aren't I?"<br><br>She glanced around the empty room. "I'm not used to it being so quiet here. I can always hear some kind of racket going on. Figures the day I decide to come out of my room the whole world goes quiet." She shook her head. 'What beautiful luck I have.' Looking back over to Cameron she leaned forward as if whispering a great secret. "So, what do you really do at night? Come on, you can tell me. I won't utter a word." Annabelle always had a love for the grisly side of life and it showed in her eagerness to hear about Cameron. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>19-03-2011, 19:49:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He chuckled at her words. "Yes dear, you are pretty to straight men." It was the truth although she might not be as attractive as Zara, she was certainly easy on the eyes.<br><br>But then, that was just his personal opinion. Everyone had different tastes. He shrugged when she expressed surprise at how no one had chosen him yet.<br><br>"Maybe because they dislike my attitude. I suppose I should change it, if only to get one customer... but it's rather hard to force myself to do so." Cameron admitted and made a face when she teased him about exactly what he had just said. He raised a brow when she spoke of him having an ominous side, now where had she gotten that impression? "Oh really? What makes you say that?" The white haired male inquired and realized Annabelle had been a bit distracted as well which was rather interesting.<br><br>Funds. It was always money, just like anyone else at the brothel. He wondered what Mason's parents would have done if Mason hadn't been able to get any customers either.<br><br>Would Ryan have fired him and sent him back to his parents? Or kept him since he had essentially 'bought' Mason so the parents could repay their debt?<br><br>Perhaps he needed to have a little talk with him about the matter. Since he hadn't gotten a client yet but of course there was some leeway due to the fact that he was still relatively new to the brothel. This was his fourth day here and he hadn't even been here for a week yet unlike the other whores here. But still, it was a matter of some concern for him. Exactly what sort of contract did Ryan have with Mason? He hadn't been informed of the details, only that he was taking Mason's place at the Teahouse.<br><br>He could tell that Annabelle was apparently interested in his nightlife here. Well it couldn't hurt to tell her what he did here, it wasn't as if it was a secret. "No, that's really it."<br><br>"I just like walking around at night because before I came here I used to stay up way past curfew at the Teahouse. I'm a night person but day isn't bad.<br><br>"I prefer night though." Cameron told her, wondering if the female would accept his explanation. He wasn't going to just tell her about what he did beforehand, he didn't know her that well yet and he wasn't the sort who would spill his life history to someone he didn't know. People had to work to get his trust, just like in the gang and Annabelle was no different. His past wasn't of consequence, only his present right now mattered. "What of you?" He inquired, feeling obliged to ask her in return.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crystaltears</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 05:37:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>~Just outside the front doors a little before lunch~</em><br><br>Florence loved Nicholas' taste. There was absolutely no doubt about that in the woman's mind as the man helped her from his open coach. An elegant, slender hand dressed in pale blue silk and jet black lace rested delicately on his offered hand as she rose from her seat and gracefully stepped to the ground. "This looks to be the place, Nicholas, Darling. Are you ready to go find the models you're after?" <br><br>The blonde haired woman offered Nicholas a charming smile from her pink lips, the long lashes of her soft blue eyes fluttered playfully as she twirled for Nicholas in the silk gown he'd dressed her in, matching parasol spinning from the motion. Florence could be so light-hearted at times. Times like today when she'd so merrily suggested Nicholas dress her in the clothing he wished to have for his purposes at the Tea House. He'd done a fine job of it too, from head to toe in the pale blue silk that formed a dress perfectly suited to Florence's body. She'd teased him about having the outfit laid aside for her, but when you had as much money as Nicholas Bureck, something as 'wasteful' as a silk gown and matching jewelry given to what might well become a briefly-enjoyed lover was little to consider.<br><br>When the twirl completed and the skirts were settled perfectly over the heeled shoes he'd chosen for the garment Florence flashed another of her charming smiles at her escort, "Do you approve, Mister Bureck?" Her lashes fluttered again as she tilted her head so that the delicious line of her chin was presented the man. Her dangling earrings contrasted the pale tones of her skin while complementing the blue of the gown he'd chosen and that of her eyes. A gemmed necklace hung round her throat to match the earrings.<br><br>The crowning point, literally, of her attire was the hat the man had selected. When he dressed a lady up he left off no details, for this hat had lacing to match the gloves and gown itself, and there was enough of it to bring her pale silken tresses to the focus of those eyes who saw her from behind.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 06:20:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee left Master Ryan's room a bit lighter in her step. Somehow, she went over fretting where the next money would go to in paying off her debts and now she was possibly going to be head accountant. For now, she needed to keep her eyes and ears alert for Frederick. The snake was supposed to be coming in soon and she at least wanted to see him before he had his fingers broken and his reputation ruined beyond repair. Frederick was going to receive his just desserts for trying to play the Teahouse and Master Ryan for a fool. Even more for him doubting her ways in figuring out numbers. The man assumed she was illiterate by her scribbled notes she made in the margins of the parchments whenever she double checked the numbers.<br><br>However, she needed to take the log book and head to the ground floors to settle herself behind her front desk and her leather chair (http://27.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lfwfxq45dt1qgrz8zo1_400.jpg). Rubee settled herself in with the booking ledger and adjusted the items she needed to pen in the clients, the times or to even cross out anyone who did not get clearance from the Master of the Teahouse. "All right, who is next?," she said aloud, opening the ledger, biting on the end of her ink pen to figure out who was next up and if at any time the whores needed to be lined up for the look overs. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 06:44:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Alighting from the open coach before his companion had given him a moment to glance at the infamous Teahouse before his attention returned to her, his hand proffered politely to the woman he had been treating like his muse for some time now. She was endlessly patient, this ever changing minx that he had taken under his wing. She certainly looked good in the clothing he had purchased her; not that he expected anything for it, her beauty was just such that it deserved proper outfitting. He had never pressed though, only giving what she asked and never imposing on her free will, that he was sure would send this delightful vixen from his side. <br><br>When she spun for him his storm gray eyes warmed a faction, mirth quirking the sensual line of his mouth before he reached around her and fetched out the heavy satchel that contained his supplies before turning to look at the blond haired beauty before him. "Oh, I do Lady Florence, very much indeed. Now siren I am ready, but are you? These are uncharted waters you know."<br><br>He teased her with his word choice, calculating it to be affection light banter but also to encourage her to take the place by storm, of course in her quiet, elegant and refined way. She would have regardless but he had agreed to this partly in hope of finding said models, though that was not something he held much hope for. It was more to simply see how she would handle the whorehouse, for Nicholas was always curious about how people reacted, and of Florence, he could have done a thousand studies in a thousand settings and he doubted he would grow bored. What with her old profession and her claim to nobility, her one moment shyness and the next the sultry siren he so enjoyed. No, Florence was something that was a boon to any artist. <br><br>"Shall we Lady Siren?" He gestured to the door; her hand found his own again and together they left the coach to be tended by the grooms who had appeared, taking the few short steps up to the door where Nicholas shifted his burden and his muse's hand to rap smartly upon the door and await entry. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crystaltears</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 07:11:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Florence nodded her response to Nicholas, blue eyes alight with one of the many shades of playfulness that so readily brought the lady to life. She kept her hand in Nicholas', but gave a wry grin to his rapping on the door, "Oh, Nic, this is a house of ill repute.. You don't need to <em>knock</em>." <br><br>The words were so out of place coming from the lips of a lady looking so properly clothed and of such high station, but they sat at ease in the voice of Florence as the hand holding her parasol twisted the doorknob. She waited for Nicholas before entering though, her light blue eyes sweeping the chamber that was revealed to her and resting briefly on the forms of the individuals gathered in the grand entry way.<br><br>Her steps were graceful and light when they did proceed into the establishment, her blond curls hanging loosely on her shoulders and back. They bobbed ever so slightly from her motions, bringing a touch more life to her good-humored mood. The lady offered a very slight inclination of her head to the person nearest the entry. "Please go and fetch the Master of the House for myself and Mister Bureck," her voice was as light-hearted and happy as her movements and eyes when she made the polite request.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MomoPeach</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 14:39:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Ooooh," Annabelle drug out slowly. 'So that's it, he likes men.' It certainly wasn't something that was uncommon at Teahouse. In fact Annabelle had witnessed it several times. She shrugged and thanked him for the compliment anyway as her eyes wandered over to glance at the outdoors. The sun streaming through made little patterns and shadows on the floor that held Annabelle's attention for a moment before she turned back to Cameron. <br><br>As he asked what made him ominous she let a little grin slip to her face. "What makes you ominous? I don't know, you're just kind of mysterious to me. Then again though I read far too many books so it's not surprising that my imagination has taken over. It usually does." Her fingers trailed over the material of her dress before she sighed and looked at Cameron once more. <br><br>"What do I really do at night?" She shook her head letting the smile return to her face. "It's a secret. Perhaps I'll tell you one day," she said with a small wink. Annabelle looked up as she heard footsteps. A woman outfitted entirely in blue stood with a man at the entrance calling out for someone to fetch Master Ryan. 'Well it certainly won't be me,' she thought. She liked where she was just fine to get up and do someone's bidding. If they were her customer that was fine, but if they were seeking someone else she certainly wasn't going to do all of the work. Annabelle leaned back even farther into her chair and gazed at the new visitors to the Teahouse. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 18:21:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				While no doubt his enticing companion was correct Nicholas simply shrugged his broad shoulders, his expression wry as he returned her comment with one of his own. "Manners are never out of place dear, just look where they got me with you." <br><br>Still he let her open the door and proceeded her into the building; it was rather elegantly done up inside, the visuals soothing and not assaulting to the senses. He did feel a small touch of relief that it wasn't done up in 'bordello' red and garish gold as was so popular in houses of this sort. He doubted the truth of that particular style being something that aroused people, for while red could have that affect it would have to be done with a much more deft hand then many brothels ever through to employ. This though, it rivaled a few of the wealthiest of his patron's abodes, lords of good taste and blood, for good taste and elegance. How reassuring. <br><br>Though really, he suppose he shouldn't be surprised since it was Florence who brought him to this place, still the artist had never been overly drawn to brothels and their like. Perhaps it was his country upbringing. However a house of sin would be the ideal place to draw inspiration for his project, if the house was one that showed decorum and good taste. <em>Odd things to desire in a brothel, but then as so many have said I am a rather demanding person at times.</em> He let the blond on his arm speak to a servant to fetch the Master of the House, content to simply observe and consider. The lighting in the building was rich, good and strong, hopefully it would be the same in whatever room they ended up in. <br><br>Nicholas' eyes flickered over to where two others sat within a entertaining room of some sort. One has a tall male, and the other a young lady, both blond; his storm colored eyes studied them for a moment before turning back to Florence with a grin and he leaned in, to murmur just to her. "I do so hope they have something other then blonds to offer here, after all for that I have you. And I do suppose you are going to have plenty to say about the selection process?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 20:26:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee looked up to see a frantic servant rubbing his hands together. Whenever a servant looked like they were about to fret themselves to death it meant people were coming to the Teahouse to take a look at the whores. Some might even be new clients which meant Rubee needed to look through her log books. There were a few open spots which means anyone could drop in, but had to meet with Master Ryan to figure out fees before taking a look at the array of whores to be offered for carnal pleasure. "Go on! Go and get Master Ryan. However, knock and do not enter unless you want to end up with a boot in your ass," she hissed out to the already jumpy servant. With her words, the servant looked as if he could hop high enough to hit the ceiling before he went off in search of Master Ryan...<br><br>*Servant will head to Master Ryan's room*<br><br>As for Rubee, she stood up from her desk, her eyes waiting for the new arrivals to move further into the Teahouse before they would see her face and the log book in her hands. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crystaltears</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 01:00:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Florence was pleased as the servant scampered off to do her bidding. She squeezed Nicholas' hand in an expression of it and then noticed him looking into what appeared to be a waiting area or something similar. She followed his gaze to the two blonds there and smiled a little as he leaned in to murmur softly, "I do so hope they have something other then blonds to offer here, after all for that I have you. And I do suppose you are going to have plenty to say about the selection process?"<br><br>A chuckle passed her lips, as she responded in a similarly quiet voice, "Well, Darling, I'm sure they cater to many tastes and try not to have too many with the same look to them lest they be unable to satisfy all manner of clients. And yes, I imagine I will have something to say about who we choose seeing as I'm going to be posing with them.. and enjoying them... Shall we venture further into the unknown?" She pitched her voice so the last was a touch dramatic and gave Nicholas and exaggeratedly worried look for a moment or two before falling back into the happy smile she'd been wearing. <br><br>The lady gently urged them forward, assuming Nicholas would oblige and take amusement from her enthusiasm. She paused briefly though, to glance at the piano in the room near the door, and then looked back toward the waiting area with the blonds. As they entered further into the mansion she caught sight of another figure. Red hair, green eyes, slim build. Too bad she was a woman and Nicholas was looking for male models. Of course, she also had a rather heavy looking book in her hands. Perhaps marking her as some function other than whore within this house of sin. <br><br>Florence subtly dipped her head toward the redhead, inclining it with the intent of both offering a greeting from a distance and drawing Nicholas' eye to the woman. "I wonder," she went on in a voice so quiet none beyond Nicholas would be likely to hear, "if the Master of the House will live up to the description I was given by Betty. If he does perhaps you should try to purchase his time." It was, of course, in jest... for the time being.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 02:18:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				By the time he had found the two, he had found a resemblance of peace again, though it did seem to be a bit colder then it normally was.<br>Not that he had to look very far, of course. Asides that, both of them stood out quite a bit and he was pleased he took the time to get on a new shirt. The other one would have made an awful impression on these two, he was sure.<br><br>"I am Master Ryan Valentine," he said with a very slight but polite bow from the waist "Welcome to the Teahouse. How may we please you..?"<br><br>Even while looking them over, he was thinking about the common room and if it was still occupied. His office would probably not do. Too tempting, for one..<br>If he had any less discipline, he'd be biting his lip by now, but nothing could be seen of his thoughts or his desires.<br>It would have to be the common room.<br><br><br><hr>Coming from here. (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98330.msg4447930#msg4447930)
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 02:33:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The artist found himself half wanting to chuckle at his friends response to his words, in particular the slight show of theatricality that she displayed before flashing back into the manner that seemed to prevail for her today; gentle noble woman full of smiles. Not that a proper noble woman would have ever accompanied an artist to a brothel, or been the one to suggest it. Nic's gaze was fond as he gazed at the woman who appeared outwardly to be a angel but in truth was so very far from it. Though that was all for the best he supposed, angels would be likely horribly boring outside of being good to draw and paint. And such perfection grew boring. <br><br>He let Florence pull him deeper into the building, his eyes flashing around them and not missing a thing; it was very clean for a brothel. Another point in the Teahouse's favor. Perhaps he would even enjoy his time here. <br><br>It did not escape his notice how Florence brought the red haired woman to his attention but as soon as he saw her he weighed her, found her interesting but not what he was looking for and dismissed it. Three strikes so far, no one here with that particular elusive <em>something</em> that he was seeking for his current project. Or rather, the current part of his project; any of the three of them might well inspire when he was in another stage or looking for something else but he had a particular aspect that had been lacking, necessary for weeks now with no luck in finding the right model. After all young men of good breeding and therefore striking facial structure usually did not particularly like taking their clothing off for other men. And the slums that most brothels called home were simply not environments were he could work. <br><br>He knew he was particular, and demanding, in the least expected of ways with his over all easy going personality but his art tended to be like that, transforming him into a demanding task master, a perfectionist, and no doubt a bastard. <br><br>Florence at least seemed to not be put off by it, though with him embracing all the many, many sides of her he would believe it only fair. His eyes flickered back to the two seated blonds and then toward the door, clearly contemplating simply leaving; but her he would indulge. "Perhaps Siren, and perhaps not. I doubt the Master of a House would sell himself unless I wished to throw a truly obscene amount of money at him and I have no whim to do that as of this moment."<br><br>As if their discussing him had summoned the Master the man appeared, tall, elegant and cold; a business man no doubt and a good one by the looks of the house he had found him and his 'people'. At the greet Nicholas inclined his own head, not bowing but still respectful, a smile tugged on his lips, wry and rueful even as he spoke. "Master Valentine, I am Sir Nicholas Bureck, and this is Lady Florence. I take it that you have time to speak with us, hopefully we won't take up too much of your time for as a artist I'm aware time is money." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crystaltears</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 02:50:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Florence smirked at Nicholas' response to her suggestion of hiring the Master of the House. The man whose hand she held had the money to disperse of if he'd had the inclination, but Florence got the distinct impression that this brothel wasn't winning him over just yet. She smiled as she heard footsteps approaching and turned toward the sound. <em>'And that would be Master Ryan..'</em> the woman thought to herself as the man approached and offered them a confirming introduction and a slight bow from the waist saying, "I am Master Ryan Valentine. Welcome to the Teahouse. How may we please you..?"<br><br>Her friend only inclined his head very slightly, but Florence smiled at Master Valentine before freeing her hand from Nicholas' long enough to offer a proper curtsy. She let Nicholas speak for them, "Master Valentine, I am Sir Nicholas Bureck, and this is Lady Florence. I take it that you have time to speak with us, hopefully we won't take up too much of your time for as a artist I'm aware time is money." The tone of his voice told her that she was right to suspect he had been thus far dissatisfied by the people he had seen within the establishment. The last of what he said was indication of his own haste, but Florence felt sure they would find him a model worth studying here if the man would just have patience. <br><br>She shook her head slightly from side to side and sent her blond curls bobbing from the gesture while an amused smile took place on her lips. "A pleasure, Master Valentine" she said quietly as her own greeting to their host.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 03:04:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee had to keep herself from scoffing at the two new clients to the Teahouse. She had yet to see either of them here at the place but then again some clients like to dress themselves in different attire and one even wore a mask to hide his face from everyone here on the ground floor. There was no denying what the individuals were here for, sex. Sex is what made the Teahouse infamous and it was not for beautiful words sung at the piano or beautiful parties. Instead, carnal pleasure was sold here for the highest bidder. <em>Damn, I need to check on the bidding wars. Where did that courier go? He should have been back by now with updated bids</em>," Rubee thought to herself as she watched a woman and a man walk themselves further into the establishment. <br><br>When she noticed the woman dip her head towards her, Rubee nodded in kind though it was more of the rules of the house more so than actually wanting to be polite to the woman. Had the woman been someone on the street, Rubee might have told the female to look elsewhere or to even have someone paint her a picture if she wanted to gaze upon Rubee longer. She knew what she looked like with her flaming red hair and knowing there was a rosary tattooed around her neck. Even with a bit of make up, the sweat from her chest and neck always ruined the cover and had the spots of the beads from the rosary show through the make up. Even her sleeveless shirt showed her tattoo on her arm, showcasing the delicate time it took to acquire every ink and color on her arm. <br><br>At the feeling of being watched again, Rubee looked up just as she noticed the other individual, a young male turn his head towards the female at his side. He looked just the kind of man that called to mind headache and frustration, two things Rubee did take kindly towards. The only headaches and frustration she was fine with was Master Ryan and to whom, she inclined her head once he entered into the room. She wondered how the feeble servant handled himself but the answer came when the servant returned, a bit pale but all in all safe from any strike to his face or body. "Go and get some drinks for all, and do it without looking as if you are going to fall over yourself," she whispered to the servant who nodded and almost all but ran off to do the bidding. Good eve, what did these two new clients bring to Teahouse?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 03:07:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A slight smile spread over his lips at Nicholas' words. This man was either in a hurry or shy, and he didn't seem shy to him. Of course this was but a superficial observation, but he couldn't imagine the man being shy.<br>Though a blush to his cheeks would be most attractive...<br><br>"A man after my own heart you seem to be, sir Bureck. Indeed, time is money. If you wished, I could skip the pleasantries and ask you what brings you here so I may have a servant check on who's available that may sate your desires, no matter what they might be."<br><br>His gaze turned to Florence and his smile broadened a bit, as if to put her as ease, though it wasn't all too warm a smile still.<br>The blond made quite a picture and he couldn't help think he'd be attracted to her if she had been a man.<br><br>"A pleasure, M'lady Florence," he said while taking her hand gently, long, elegant fingers holding her hand for a moment, just as long as etiquette prescribed.<br>"I hope we may find you something to please you too."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 03:14:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Something in the Master of the House's manner eased the itch, the concern that had been budding that this was a waste of time when his project had only a month left to be completed. The polite smile on Nic's lips warmed into something a touch less formal as he regarded the other man, noting the striking quality of his features, the starkness of his pale skin against that black silk that was his hair. Tempting, visually arresting; but not the <em>something</em> he required today. And he wouldn't want to spend too much money on a first visit anyway, business was best when treated like sex, and good sex stemmed from foreplay. <br><br>Today would be the opening bid, or a first kiss. <br><br>"Pleasantries have their place, and I suppose some of them should be observed, if I lack in manners I trust you'll forgive. I've forgone the Court for the moment to focus on my project and have little use for overblown dialogue with no true point. Perhaps a room to discuss that is more intimate then this, however visually soothing, entry area?" The smile on his lips quirked, the look of his eyes changing into something different even as the man chuckled softly. "I believe what I am seeking, or rather what we are seeking, will take a bit more discussion and explanation then I'd like to give standing here with all to hear."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 03:24:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(From (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98330.msg4448192#msg4448192))<br><br>Atticus closed the doors both to the bedroom and the office as he left them, his damaged shirt left abandoned on the bathroom floor. He still didn’t have his usual attire on, his overcoat and well buffed boots waiting for him in his room. Still, he wasn’t badly turned out though his shirt clung tight to his skin in parts where he had not dried off thoroughly. <br><br>Master Ryan and a pair of new clients stood not far off. While not unusual for clients to enter in twos or threes for moral support, it was an oddity for party of opposite sex. Man and wife, perhaps? They didn’t seem to be of the age where they were bored of their own bedroom. <br><br>Quietly and unobtrusively, Atticus moved to a few paces behind and to the side of the Master, watching but keeping himself relaxed. The just seemed curious and excited, and both rather innocent.&nbsp; <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crystaltears</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 04:17:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Florence enjoyed the look Master Ryan gave her, though she had a strange suspicion attraction was less the cause than say.. appreciation. Appreciation of the appearance that Nicholas had drawn out of her that morning by dressing her in the perfect attire to match her hair, her eyes, her skin with his artist's eye. <em>'That could prove an asset in court too,'</em> she reflected as she felt Master Ryan touch her hand for as long as was civil.<br><br>His manners, at least, were not lacking even if he did seem to like the idea of Nicholas being in a hurry. Master Ryan and Nicholas spoke. The redhead in the other chamber watched on, and at least one of the blonds had been looking too when they'd first entered. Florence noticed a man approaching. A rather intriguing one, if she were to say so. <br><br>She let her gaze fall on Nicholas again, curious if the artist took a liking to this newest addition to the scene.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 04:25:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He more or less felt Atticus approach, it was akin to a shiver, but not quite, though it did run along his back. Inwardly, he scoffed at himself and his more rational part decided the office would be a better place now that the man was dressed and smelled.. clean.<br><br><em>"Pleasantries have their place, and I suppose some of them should be observed, if I lack in manners I trust you'll forgive. I've forgone the Court for the moment to focus on my project and have little use for overblown dialogue with no true point. Perhaps a room to discuss that is more intimate then this, however visually soothing, entry area? I believe what I am seeking, or rather what we are seeking, will take a bit more discussion and explanation then I'd like to give standing here with all to hear."</em><br><br>He nodded, not letting anything of his mind or more bodily desires shine through, his smile firmly in place.<br>"We could drink a cup of tea in my office and discuss matters, sir," he said, not denying Florence his attention either, but obviously talking to him instead of her. It seemed he was the more talkative and he had no problems with this as long as both clients were entertained under his roof.<br><br>He made a slight gesture at Atticus, as if he had been ignoring him, only introducing him to the two now because it would have been rude to <em>them</em> to not have done so.<br>"This would be my right hand man, Atticus. He would be in charge of the House's security."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 04:40:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There. <br><br>Appearing out of the same direction the Master of the House had come was a male with a slightly dark, almost feral feeling to his eyes, a bold face shape that still held something...he wasn't quiet sure. But that was certainly part of the elusive something that had led to Florence talking him into this visit. Not quiet, but almost. Nicholas' smile edged now, pleased, contemplative as he let his eyes drift down the man and note the way his limbs fit together, the inborn balance and rhythm to even the simple pose he adopted. This one was aware of how to move his body, most pleasing. <br><br>Still doubtful he or any of those he would find here would be able to hold still and actually <em>hold</em> a pose. But there was hope, however slim. <br><br>Florence staying so quiet did surprise him, she was usually by far the most talkative of the two of them; but then this was for his project and she understood its importance and his exacting nature at times. Nic focused his attention back on Ryan Valentine, suddenly caught with a burst of inspiration for a piece that would require both the taller man and the bodyguard he introduced as Atticus; but first his project, his masterpiece. He was sure if it was as much of a success as he believed it would be he could talk even Ryan Valentine into posing. Ah the sweetness of money and talent together, he had been very blessed indeed and suddenly he was glad he had let Florence talk him into this. If nothing else he was feeling a bit more inspired then he had been lately; as lovely as she was there was a need for masculine influences and faces as well. <br><br>"That sounds perfect Master Valentine, though I would say it would be safe to have a summoning of all your whores currently available for after the conversation is concluded. Gives them enough time to assemble without taxing either my own or your tempers." The mention of temper was more a joke then anything, shown in the glint of his eyes as he gestured for Ryan to lead the way. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 04:56:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(Continued (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98856.msg4448448#msg4448448))<br><br>"Oh, don't worry about that, you weren't mean to me after all," Adi said with a smile as he and Fiona entered the house from the courtyard, walking their way towards the main hall, Adi not really noticing the small commotion going on there. They were headed towards Fiona's room to begin taking measurements for a new garment, something which Adi was very much focused on. <br><br>He chuckled a little as he glanced down at Fi's very full skirt, tilting his head as he looked over it, glancing up at her with a smile. "I've never looked good in a skirt anyway." His comment was so casual it probably seemed like a joke, though it actually was honest, but he didn't elaborate.<br><br>As they made their way into the main hall, the faint voices coming from there finally caught his attention, and he peered curiously at the collection of people there. New clients? He wasn't terribly concerned, he was certain he wouldn't be chosen, he'd begun to just accept that, even as he was contemplating what kind of jobs he could possibly do to beg his way into not being removed from the house. Still, he offered those gathered a polite smile. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 05:49:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				At the small gesture Master Ryan made at him, Atticus’ gaze was drawn fleetingly to the back of the Master’s head before he bowed slightly to the couple for the introduction. It was neither more nor less than the usual. <br><br>He kept his gaze on the clients. Focus on them. He knew how it went. It wasn’t like he’d never been fucked by the Master of the House before. Just not this House. How was it truly any different? The House always came first. At least he wouldn’t be expected to take either of these to bed. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crystaltears</strong> on <strong>05-04-2011, 03:12:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"We could drink a cup of tea in my office and discuss matters, sir," Master Ryan said as he addressed Nicholas. Florence smiled at that, amused by the pair of them coming to this place at her whim and yet her being so reserved for the time being. <em>'It's his Muse we're after.. And a decent lay for me, which...'</em> Her eyes slid over the people gathered in the chamber and near it, lingering only slightly as they passed over the man standing behind Master Ryan, <em>'...shouldn't be difficult to find.'</em><br><br>There was nothing lacking in Nicholas' ability to satisfy Florence, this was true, but variety always added fun to the mix and he wanted masculine models for his work. Let them both gain some benefit from the artist's requirements. <em>'Besides which.. I'm just far too energetic to pose for Nic without some preliminary fun first.'</em> Her eyes had returned to Master Ryan by the time her thoughts concluded and there was a somewhat telling smile curled contently on her lips as the Master gestured to the man she'd let her eyes linger on and spoke again, "This would be my right hand man, Atticus. He would be in charge of the House's security."<br><br>Florence's gaze shifted to the man again, running over his body structure and stance with a more critical analysis, <em>'Security? Well certainly, that makes sense. I bet he'd make for a really good spar.'</em> The idea of that made her itch to act on a new impulse, but she denied it. Instead the lady masked her probing gaze with a polite smile and a bob of her head as Nicholas spoke, "That sounds perfect Master Valentine, though I would say it would be safe to have a summoning of all your whores currently available for after the conversation is concluded. Gives them enough time to assemble without taxing either my own or your tempers."<br><br>"A pleasure to meet you," she added to Atticus on the tail of Nicholas' words in a quiet voice.<br><br>Footsteps drew the lady's gaze to another pair arriving on the scene. A lovely pair, the two of them. One a lady with beautiful, coppery hair, <em>'Hm..'</em> The other a... <em>'man?'</em> with short, straight hair of dark brown and what she found to be rather striking eyes as he drew nearer. This one matched her for height, and something about him held Florence's attention. Her blue eyes softened as she realized he'd offered them a smile and she returned it with a friendly enough smile of her own before turning her gaze on Nicholas. <em>'Oh I do hope you like this new arrival Nicholas, for I might have to insist upon him even if you don't.'</em> If she caught Nic looking her way the lady offered him a rather subtle wink.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>05-04-2011, 03:26:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ryan did not miss how Nicholas reacted to Atticus. His smile almost grew wry. Of course Atticus would draw the eye, and had done so before, but none had dared ask for his services. He wondered if he had to tell Nicolas this man was not fore hire. The way he looked at him.. it was almost lust, but not quite.<br><br><em>"That sounds perfect Master Valentine, though I would say it would be safe to have a summoning of all your whores currently available for after the conversation is concluded. Gives them enough time to assemble without taxing either my own or your tempers." </em><br><br>"That will be easy to arrange, sir. See the young lady over there..?"<br>Ryan turned a bit to gesture at Rubee.<br>"Miss Rubee is very capable in booking entertainment, one may just need to send a boy with a letter to her to have ones choice await on a certain time. I'm certain she would have no problem addressing those around to meet up in the common room.."<br>He couched into his hand as a servant (of course it was Mary, maybe she was following him) wandered past, making her perk and grin at him, slight hint of guilt on her features.<br>"Mary, kindly seek out all of our entertainment whom are not currently busy and ask them to meet in the common room for a line-up."<br>She made a deep curtsey before him, hiding her grin in this manner and nodded.<br>"By all means, Master Ryan," she murmured and darted off as soon as Ryan turned back this attention to the two and smiled at them.<br>"Follow me, if you would be so kind," he said quietly, then turned on his heels and wandered to his office.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>05-04-2011, 03:31:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Fiona smiled softly, squeezing her new friends hand in her own "Perhaps not but I still wish I had approached you earlier. But that matters little, now that I have, we will have such fun together." She glanced away from him, toward the gathering of people in the main hall, thinking that Adi could likely pull off a skirt just fine if he wanted, he had the right hips for it if it was measure properly. Seeing a man dressed like a woman was nothing strange to the girl who had been raised often going to the theater and had lived in a whore house for three years. <br><br>The two figures of clear nobility were new clients she thought, the snippets of words she caught making her sure of that. The lady, with golden hair and delicate features was a beauty, no doubt, and so petite. The lord was handsome enough to make any woman or man swoon a bit, and very very sure of himself. She heard him speak of wanting all the whores gathered. She glanced at Adi, her expression resigned and yet eager at the same time as she smiled up at him, hearing the order given to Mary. <br><br>"Well, it looks like our sewing may have to wait. Still I think today you might have luck, do you want to go to your room to get anything before their meeting is done?" She raised a hand to her long hair, her expression turning concerned "I suppose I should make sure my hair is presentable really for clients."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>05-04-2011, 03:43:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"Miss Rubee is very capable in booking entertainment, one may just need to send a boy with a letter to her to have ones choice await on a certain time. I'm certain she would have no problem addressing those around to meet up in the common room.."</em><br><br>Rubee looked up at hearing her name being called by Master Ryan before removing herself from behind the desk to walk herself to introduce herself to the crowd. She already knew some of the individuals since they worked at the Teahouse. Though she was still curious about the male and female couple who looked as if they were on some sort of quest to find the ultimate pleasure. "Nice to meet you all, my name is Rubee, and yes I can have every one rounded up in the common room to be waiting for you on bated breath. I am sure a few of the employees will be what you might be looking for," she answered with a smile but knowing the round up was going to give her a headache. If one of the whores threw a snotty comment because she sometimes had to yell loudly to get the whores to hear her, so be it in having a verbal fight with the whore who thought to insult her. <br><br>Giving a nod to Master Ryan, Rubee nodded to everyone and went back to the desk knowing it was vital to grab the book and start calling off the whores once the individuals were out of earshot. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>05-04-2011, 05:14:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Indeed, no point focusing on the past now," Adi said to Fiona, not letting his attention linger on the potential clients. He hated seeming overly eager, even if he was hoping for a client so he could stay in the house, he didn't think that acting overly desperate would help his case. Act calm, don't act needy - if people know you keep getting passed over they'll wonder why. Pretending he didn't need a client would help him, he hoped. <br><br>Fiona pointed out that their plans to being the preparations for sewing would have to wait, and Adi sighed softly, nodding, though a smile remained on his lips. "Yes, it looks like we'll have to wait until after the lineup at least." He was almost completely resigned to not being chosen this time, though he thought Fiona might be. <br><br>When Fiona mentioned getting ready for the lineup, Adi nodded slightly, somewhat distractedly, contemplating what he would do to fill the time of Fiona got a client and he didn't. "... yes, I suppose we should get ready, shouldn't we?" He said, though he wasn't really sure what he would do to prepare. If he wore makeup or did anything special with his hair he felt he was misleading people - it was simply easier to present himself as a man, and that usually involved just keeping himself looking natural. He gave Fiona a smile, his attention back on her. <br><br>"Go ahead and get ready if you want, I'll just wait here until the lineup."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>05-04-2011, 05:27:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The red head shook her head at her new friend, before her eyes gleamed with a thought and she tugged him toward her favored downstairs powder room. The room was thankfully empty of anyone else and the girl set her basket on a table, trusting that one of the servants would see to it before tugging Adi further into the room and sitting him down on one of the chairs. "Adi, part of getting a client is about the charm, about thinking they want you, that you have something to offer them." <br><br>She moved toward a small cupboard and drew out a small case, coming back to his side and eying his clothing that while tasteful didn't fit in the most flattering of ways. She tugged him back into standing, hoping he wouldn't mind and set about doing a few quick stitches here and there; wanting to cheer him. "Please don't move, I'd hate to prick you. But its true, that's half the game here, Zara gets a lot of clients because she knows damn well that she's a sensual dream, Anel is playful, I am sweet, I smile and flatter and sooth. This...world, its a game of figuring out what part of you you want to offer to the clients. They would be lucky to have you, any of them." <br><br>Fi finished with her quick fix stitches and moved back to the small case, tucking the needle away and drawing out a small bottle of scent out; she kept spares in here for all manner of occasions, including her clients wanting something. It was a amber musk in her hands now; William's favored scent. But he was dead, and the scent would add a nice elusive touch to her new friend's presence. She offered the bottle out with a smile. "Here, just dap a bit of this on your neck and wrists."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>05-04-2011, 06:01:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adi blinked a bit as Fi suddenly tugged him into the powder room, seeming a little confused as to what her intentions were. He dutifully sat when she pushed him into the chair, only to be roused from it a moment later, tilting his head slightly as Fi set to the task of stitching his clothes here and there until they fit him a bit more properly. <br><br>"... I, I guess," Adi said in response to Fi's comment, glancing to himself in the mirror. It was a little difficult to get himself into the mindset that anyone wanted him - he wasn't still a virgin out of any particular effort on his part to preserve it, but because that just... didn't happen. He considered what kind of role he could play up to possibly attract clients, but he had no idea what it could be... he supposed perhaps it would come to him once he'd had a chance to figure these things out. <br><br>He stood still until Fiona was done tucking and stitching his clothes, and looked back into the mirror, looking at the way his clothes fit him now that she was done. He supposed it was a bit more flattering... he usually preferred not wearing anything that fitted him too closely, because it accentuated certain things about him he'd rather not show off, but Fiona seemed to know what she was doing in altering them, and he noted that they fitted to his body now without being too revealing. <br><br>He blinked a bit as Fiona suddenly offered him a bottle, and he smiled a bit, reaching to take the bottle. "... oh, thank you," He said, and opened the bottle carefully, obediently dabbing drops of the scent onto his wrists and onto his neck, just behind his ears. He closed the bottle and offered it back, before lifting his wrist to sniff at it curiously, admiring the way it smelled with his particular body chemistry. <br><br>"... I appreciate it a lot," He said with a smile and a slight blush as he looked back at Fi. "I'm starting to think I'm just not really good at this kind of thing, perhaps."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>05-04-2011, 06:18:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Fi gave the other whore a warm smile as she tucked the vial back into the case and then moved to the mirror to check her own hair and dress, just little things here and there, making sure her cheeks were clear. First impressions were always important after all. "No one is really, when they start I don't think. I know I wasn't." <br><br>Her words were soft as she spoke, eyes a bit distant as she thought about her early days at the Teahouse. "I was so...afraid at first, and alone too. I missed home and I didn't know how to...act like sex was nothing, act like I didn't fall a little bit in love with the clients. Master Ryan's choice for my first client was a good one though and he helped me a lot, the client that is. One of the other whore's made me feel more at home too, Lessard, if you've met him." <br><br>The girl dug out the vial of violet scent that she used for herself and she dabbed it on the proper places on her own pale skin before tucking away her kit back in its hiding place and shaking out her skirts. "Its all trail and error, even now, being here for three years for me. You just..pretend that its not I suppose, try not to think too much outside of being charming, engaging. You have lovely manners though, so you are better off then some. We should probably go back out there though, to wait with the others." <br><br>She offered her hand out again, with a soft smile. "Thank you for putting up with my primping so well."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>05-04-2011, 18:15:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee waited a few minutes as she watched the group head towards Master Ryan's room. She wondered if someone might have sprayed the room with a bit of bottled cologne or perfume considering she noticed the smell of sex on the air. <em>Would Master Ryan just say to 'hell with it' and let the clients smell the sex and the sweat which obviously came from two or more bodies undulating against one another for their carnal release?</em>, Rubee thought though it was none of her business knowing it was now time to think of taking over the accounting books. She had yet to see Frederick but perhaps the man wanted to make his grand entrance later in the afternoon. Rubee frowned when she saw a messenger come around to leave a note for Anel's bidding. "Hmm, it seems the other bidder wants to triple his bid and even throw in more money to close out the bid now," she muttered beneath her breath, not knowing what Master Ryan would have to say.<br><br>Seeing a passing servant, Rubee crooked her finger for the individual to head towards her. "Here, give this to Master Ryan but I suggest you knock three times, announce the business and then move away from the door. He is in the office talking with clients so try not to peek inside if you are one for learning about the gossip around here," she warned, handing the messenger's note over to the servant. With a nod and a click of her heels, the servant went on her merry way and Rubee looked at the time. Enough time had passed to be able to call out the whores without the clients hearing her screaming at the top of her lungs. Rubee snatched up the booking list along with the book which accompanied the names and times available or closed off to any incoming clients. <br><br>Walking around to the front of the desk, Rubee leaned against it as she cleared her throat and started down the list of whores, "Adonija also called by 'Adi' to the ground floor and take line! Annabelle Lee to the ground floor and take line! Cameron to the ground floor and take line!" Rubee stopped to accept a glass of water from another passing servant who somehow knew she would need a cool drink of water to keep her voice from breaking. "Thank you," she whispered before clearing her throat once more and screaming, "Fiona to the ground floor and take line! Hayden to the ground floor and take line! Lessard Tabris to the ground floor and take line! Last but not least, Zara to the ground floor and take line!" In a few more minutes, Rubee would call those who were not down to the ground floor but this time she might throw in a few more colorful words to get each of the whores to the ground floor and put themselves in line for the clients. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>07-04-2011, 02:39:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adi smiled a bit at Fiona, reaching up to brush his hair back away from his face with his fingers. "... you're helping me a lot, and you seem to know what you're doing, so of course I would put up with it," he said, pausing for a moment as he contemplated everything briefly. He'd never actually had sex with anyone, he still wasn't really sure how he would he would handle it. He understood the mechanics of it, he understood how it worked from a biological standpoint, he understood his own body - as well as he possibly could, anyway, considering the special circumstances - any potential emotional aspect was foreign to him. <br><br>"... what was your first time l-..." he began to ask, only to be interrupted when Rubee suddenly began to call for the lineup, sighing softly. He looked back to Fiona with a smile and extended a hand towards her once more. <br><br>"I suppose we'd better head back out," he said, feeling a twinge of anxiety even though he was fairly sure he'd be overlooked. It was easier to prepare for the worst than to assume the best, especially lately, since he'd been getting turned down for so long at this point. He was called, however, so he made his way back towards the main hall with Fiona, to wait for the lineup to 'officially' begin. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MomoPeach</strong> on <strong>07-04-2011, 15:48:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Annabelle snapped to attention when she heard her name called. She had been in her own little world, her thoughts drowning out the sudden rush of people that seemed to flow from everywhere. Sighing she stood up, frowning. 'Could Rubee possibly be any louder?' She straightened her long dress out and lithe fingers flitted to her blond hair to push it neatly into place. <br><br>'A line up huh? Not that I get picked very often.' She thought, her heels tapping against the floor as she made her way to Rubee's still screaming voice. She walked over just in time to see the red head handed a glass of water before she continued calling down the rest of the whores. When the woman was finished she wiped the frown from her features and smiled sweetly. She was sorely tempted to make a smart comment to Rubee. 'Do you think you were loud enough? I don't think they could hear you down the road.' However she kept her thoughts to herself and waited for the influx of the whores and the customer.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>08-04-2011, 02:37:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Even through the one floor and thick door that separated him from the accursed banshee, Anel still winced as Rubee's screeching for a role-call reached his ears. Vaguely he supposed that the main reason she was hired had to be the volume of her lungs, and he added bitterly that he would rather like to stand in front of her and shout right back; if anyone could match her impressive screech, it was surely him.<br><br>But that was the more usual Anel; the bitchy, yet always seductive and smooth Anel. He was in no mood to be so as he rested heavily on his bed; rope burns were clear upon his slender wrists, angry red lines from the gag upon either side of his lips and a random pattern of reddened flesh littered his chest from the wax treatment he had received. Of course, the worst damage; the irreparable and damning damage was between his legs... But he didn't want to think about that.<br><br>He couldn't even bring himself to curse and swear at Gareth as the man left his room to God-knows where and he forced himself slowly to his feet, slipping a simple black silken dressing gown over his figure. He made his way slowly downstairs not for the call for whores; he didn't care about that. He was alcohol... There was a wonderful bottle of strong and horrible whiskey that called to him. Anel knew that he would look a terrible state as he pushed open the door to the common room, speaking not a word to anyone as he fixed his gaze upon the wooden cabinet that held the alcohol.<br><br>Perhaps if he didn't look at anyone, he would be invisible?<br><br>As it happened, he couldn't help but briefly glare with as much strength as he could muster at the Master and Bodyguard; where had they been? Not doing their jobs. Probably fucking in the grand chambers. A small scoff passed between his lips and he opened the cabinet, retrieving the bottle and turning the limp straight back out, fully intent on leaving.<br><br>"By the way... You should shut up more." He muttered weakly to Rubee, the comment being pitiful and the tone used was one that clearly showed the blond was not feeling his best.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>08-04-2011, 07:12:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her eyes softened for a moment when Adi commented on how much she was helping him; of course she was, it was what one should do for those who were new to the Teahouse, at least in her mind. Lessard wasn't usually all that friendly to the newer people now but he had aided her so much and while her own shyness kept her from connecting with most people something about Adi was interesting. It was a relief to know the other new whore wasn't bothered by her rather heavy handed help. The sudden scream for the whores made her wince visibly and sigh along with her new friend before she gave him her hand with a wan smile. <br><br>"I suppose so." She assented, allowing him to lead her from the powder room and out into the gathering area. Her eyes darted around quickly, seeing the clients weren't there yet. Still she took her normal spot on the floor for the line up and smiled a touch at Adi. "I have a good feeling for you today."<br><br>"As for my first client, well I can tell you over dinner tonight if you want." She spoke as if he would get chosen, as if there was no doubt at all about such a thing. Optimism was half the battle after all. Her hand squeezed his slightly and she whispered "Remember, they would be lucky to have you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>08-04-2011, 19:56:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				So there was to be a lineup? Not surprising, considering the fact that there were two new clients. Cameron nodded when Mary came over to inform him and Annabelle first. It was natural since they were the closest available whores here. He didn't really need to get cleaned up to be presentable. After all, he had just showered, dressed in stylish clothes and done his hair before he had come down. The only thing he had around was his sketchbook and pencils which he decided to store in the closet of the common room.<br><br>He didn't expect to get chosen this time around. It seemed as if the clients had their eye on Atticus. Even if they wanted someone other than that man, Cameron was sure they would pick someone like Adi or Rubee or Fiona. It wasn't that he didn't have a good impression of himself, it was just that he tended to be too blunt and forward. Most people didn't like that and tended to pass him over because of it. Not that he'd done this sort of thing before but he'd had trouble in the past when he had tried to pick up others.<br><br>The white haired male walked over to where the lineup was being held, being one of the first to take his place. How could he not be when he had been down here all this time? He noted Annabelle as she came down for the lineup and smiled at her. Cameron waited in place along with the others as he noted the woman's interest in Adi. Perhaps his prediction would come true after all. He almost smiled at the thought and tried to prevent himself from losing focus, even if he wasn't chosen, he still had to make the most of it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>09-04-2011, 08:04:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>Now where is that damn Frederick? I want to see him before his 'discussion' with Master Ryan and I do hope to see him after. Did that sod think to use me for his flight with all of the money?</em>, Rubee thought as she waited and watched a few made their way toward the line up one of which was Annabelle. "We have a few new clients coming in who want to look over everyone. Just be ready to be looked over considering the client may be looking for some unique feature," Rubee explained before she noticed the lack of others who were not at the line up. Once more, Rubee screamed out the names who were not on the carpet. With her voice, she was bound to screech a few people's eardrums which did not bother her in the least considering some of them should know the routine to get their asses down as quickly as possible. <br><br>Rubee looked over to Annabelle and had to stop herself from saying anything at the whore. There were days when she was fine with the whores and their attitudes running around in the Teahouse. Other times, Rubee wanted to punch a few of them in the throats to just stop them from flapping their lips. The things she heard or even was made to hear by some of the whores made her wonder if they assumed their youth would never fade. Their bodies would never lose the elasticity or start to break down with old age and disease. She knew she was going to die sometime soon given the fact her own habits might come back to bite her in the ass. However, she pondered what these whores truly thought of themselves and others. <br><br>Oh she knew some of them despised her for whatever reasons each had but Rubee was not one to base her well being and emotions on other individuals. The only person she could take their opinion into consideration was Master Ryan knowing that man could easily break her neck while she was doing paperwork if she gave him the slightest inclination of betrayal. Considering the fact the old accountant, Frederick, would be worked over like a punching bag down in the alleyways where men liked to throw their fists to garner fame or even a bit of money, Rubee knew better to cross the Master of the Teahouse. As for the whores, well, they were going to get their just desserts just like she had hers whenever her own ass was handed and right now Anel was trying his best to prepare the platter.<br><br><em>By the way... You should shut up more</em><br><br>Rubee looked over at the whore who was about to have his virginity bid away and he really wanted to start with her when he should be laying flat on his back with his toes pointing towards whatever deity the whore worshiped. "Anel, you must find work as a ventriloquist because I think I just heard you talking out of your ass. An ass, which will soon be rutted upon if the bids keep going up." Rubee let her glance slip towards the bottle in his hands and did not stop herself from shaking her head at Anel. He may be a young one, but he was soon going to end up a slave to the amber liquids which would ruin his youthful look or even turn him into a raging alcoholic. She had seen it with Santiago whenever he had a bad day and Rubee would know because he would be sloppy drunk and weaving from side to side while trying to sing a heart wrenching song from his drunk lips. <br><br>"Hold off on the alcohol for a bit and try to look semi-decent for the clients. You look like the gutter and alley whores around here and it is not what the Teahouse is trying to promote," she said in the sweetest tone all the while eyeballing the little whore. She might be older and not have the body for such a thing but it did not mean her brain was dead. Rubee looked to the others who might be listening in on the exchange. "Anyone else have something to say to my face instead of behind my back? I rather hear it from your lips than from your asses." Rubee looked around and honed in on Cameron, "You look decent. Why not show Anel some tips in how to dress?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>12-04-2011, 20:00:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cameron raised a brow when Rubee addressed him and glanced over at the other whore in question. He did seem like a complete mess and briefly wondered what on earth Anel had been doing recently. Had he been with a client who had put him in such a state or had he done it all by himself? Of course his initial reaction was to simply ask right now but he restrained himself, what if that made a bad impression on the clients? He had already decided to try and curb his usual reactions in order to gain at least one client.<br><br>If he blew it before the lineup had even started that would be quite a blunder. There would always be time to ask about it later on. He glanced over at Rubee and inclined his head. "Perhaps at a later time. Right now I don't think it would be prudent to leave the lineup when no choice has been made yet." Cameron said with a wink in Rubee's direction. It was a bit of teasing but he figured she could handle it. He wasn't being disrespectful after all, was he? He let his emerald eyes focus on the clients and waited once more.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>12-04-2011, 20:27:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was a strange switch of position; Cameron was being rather perfect for the client, much as Anel was and the blond himself was being anything but, just as Cam had the time before. Still, even as he realised just how bad an impression he was making on behalf of both himself and the Teahouse, he found himself not caring; he was in no fit state mentally and certainly not physically to satisfy another client. "Maybe you should go dry hump the money you seem to love. Fucking harpy." He muttered venomously back at Rubee, not missing a beat in the process and as Cameron spoke, he turned slightly watery eyes upon him, scoffing.<br><br>"And you shut up too. Ass. Copying my hair color. I was here first." He was finding insults were there were none, speaking in a much less animated tone than was usual; it was as though he was simply speaking such words because he usually did, rather than actually meaning them and he shrugged a shoulder, his free hand moving to tug the fallen sleeve of the gown back up it. "Anyway... I don't feel like seeing anyone else right now. I'm going back to my room unless anyone else fancies saying something to me...?"<br><br>At this, Anel glanced meaningfully at Ryan with narrowed, accusing eyes. He was certain that the Master of the House would have something to say regarding his disgraceful behaviour, and the boy couldn't wait to give as good as he got and then some. As an afterthought he decided he wished to drink right then and there; popping the cork from the bottle and tilting his head back, taking a rather large gulp and shuddering after. "Ergh. Disgusting..." He grumbled, still intending to drink regardless.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>26-04-2011, 08:20:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Did the other whore wink at her? She doubted it was one in trying to get her to come on to him considering his rates were just too high for her and Rubee never paid someone to sleep with her. If she really needed sex, she would go to her fingers or rubbing herself against a pillow to enhance her carnal pleasures. No, it looked as if Cameron was trying to give her a nod in his own way. Rubee merely winked back noticing at least Cameron did not have to spout around at the moment unlike Anel who sounded like broken glass being scraped against a chalkboard. Rubee even winced when Anel started to scratch away at any insult to inflict upon Cameron and herself. She did not wince out of pain from such insults but the annoying voice. However, she did laugh at Anel's words for they did not singe her nor did they offend her as much as she believe Anel wanted them to hurt. "You cannot even find words from your drunk lips to make me even quiver in my 'harpy shoes'. By the way, harpies are known to tear their victims limb from limb which works out in my favor." Rubee looked Anel over finding the best way to tear him apart. From her vantage point, she could see the male could easily be pushed over with a few more words and if she wanted to make him cry, Rubee could and watch him drown in his own tears.<br><br>Without much thoughts, Rubee moved herself to stand in front of Anel. She had to look down at him for the male was shorter than her even in her boots. Oh, how she could easily bring him over her knee and spank his bottom red for his stupid words and his foul attitude. The male surely was going to drink away his youth and turn into an early grave with the way he continued to live his life. Thankfully, the Teahouse employed health measures but anyone could be inflicted by the bloody cough, enough to make the lungs burn and to retch blood with every gasping cough. She had seen it happen to the gutter whores along the alleyways and Rubee always covered her mouth with a cloth fearful to lose her life over someone who could not keep their mouth shut. Right now, Anel was better in keeping his pretty drunk lips closed than to form any opinions towards her. "Yes, I have something else to say, Anel. The next time you want to drink, do it in your room before you start looking like a fucking fool and drunk. You are nothing to no one in this manner. You are but a piece of slime on the bottom of someone's foot and who will scrape it off the sole of someone's ass heaped over in the garbage. The way you act right now denotes you are garbage and not someone who sucks great cock for a living."<br><br>With that, Rubee stepped back just willing for Anel to fling himself at her in rage. She wanted just anything to get her to drop her books and rip out the blonde manes Anel sported in the line up. At least he would stop complaining that others were copying his hair color. "Now, you can ask for a servant to give you water to splash on your face and drink down or you are going to end up losing more clients with your attitude. You better think clearly before the damn bottle makes you more of a fucking fool than you already are right now, Anel. Do not mess up your chances especially with this damn bidding war going into the millions. With that large cut going towards you, you might even use it to get better hair and better dress." Rubee scoffed at his dress still ready and able to take the little whore on.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>26-04-2011, 19:27:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anel blinked slowly up at the woman, slowly and purposefully raising his bottle to his lips, taking several gulps before he sighed in an overly dramatic fashion, smiling bitterly at her. "One. You're the one whose swearing every fucking couple of fucking words, so you're looking more like an idiot." He lifted two fingers on his free hand. "Two. I'm clearly not drunk, so you should get your damn sight checked as well as you're mouth sewn shut." He lifted a third finger. "Three. I'm worth maybe three or four times what you are, so don't you even start valuing my worth..."<br><br>The boy swallowed and turned away, taking a brief step towards the exit of the common room before he turned back, a smirk upon his lips. "Oh, and four... This 'piece of slime' is one of the best whores here, and my work pays your damn cheque, so back the fuck off." His words became gradually more harsh, more hurtful until the final two were almost growled. He lifted the bottle again and gulped several further mouthfuls of the burning alcohol before speaking yet again, his lips tilting in a frown. "And I don't feel like any more clients today. So it doesn't matter how I look... Do you see the client here? No. Idiot." With a casual flick of his hair, Anel sighed heavily and hung his head, the tips of his fingers feeling ever so slightly tingly; the first signs of Rubee's supposed drunkenness.<br><br>"Anyway, since you two seem happy enough winking at eachother, you in the corner-" he nodded to Adi "-are silent as a fucking rock, I'm going to try and find the dear Master's pet..." He turned and began to make his way from the room, muttering darkly to himself. "Stupid guard... My ass... Probably fucking... Irresponsible 'Master'..." He couldn't resist a final shout back however, and gestured to the two female whores in the room, calling back to Rubee.<br><br>"You should ask the others for tips, they'd be useful... To, you know... Be a woman?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>30-04-2011, 02:55:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adi was rather quiet as he watched all of the commotion, unsure how to react to the show of hostility between the others, lingering close to Fiona. She made him feel a little bit safer in the absence of Lessard, whom usually made him feel the <em>most</em> safe, and he chewed on his lower lip a little, trying to just... stay out of the way. No sense in jumping in and making things worse.<br><br>He blinked a bit and blushed slightly as Anel suddenly addressed him, glancing away and still remaining silent even though his remark had, indeed, been about that exact silence. He knew he was on thin ice, and preferred not make his presence any more awkward. Fiona seemed optimistic about his chances, but Adi had no such illusions, he was still prepared to be turned down yet again. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>03-05-2011, 03:35:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ryan's wandering through the hall and into the common room was almost regal in nature. This was his establishment, his life's work and he was proud of it.<br>Though, as always, there was something cold to him. Something distant. Even when he inclined his head at Rubee and wandered past the whores in the line up, giving them the once-over slowly, probably not helping them feel secure or relaxed at all.<br><br><hr>Coming from here. (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98330.msg4586013#msg4586013)<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>03-05-2011, 07:28:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee let out a bellow of laughter at Anel's words. "Oh Anel, you really know how to make a female laugh with your boasting. Idiot? Really? Is that what you really have to say even through your drunken wards? That is all you can tell me is to act like a woman?" Rubee smirked and knew she had say one more thing before Master Ryan arrived. If she was in trouble then at least she could explain Anel's own drunk figure in the line up. What client would want a drunk sod of a whore trying to throw spittled words from his floppy lips? Smiling, Rubee grabbed the pen from inside the pages of the log book. "By the way you dress, you certainly are trying your best to be a woman. You can tell me how to ask for tips on being a woman when you finally become a woman. I am sure once you get bidded on, someone will rut away on top of you and not even give a damn if you are asleep or not. As long as they have a willing hole, there is always going to be a cock to shove it tight up your rear." When she heard footsteps, Rubee merely smiled and walked back towards her own position. Would Master Ryan notice how drunk Anel was in his state? Hopefully, Anel would move his small ass back upstairs before the rest of the clients saw his state.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>04-05-2011, 04:23:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It didn't escape him how stiff Atticus was in some ways; it made the memories that wanted to come no less easy but he had resolved to put them behind them and Nic prided himself on his control and focus for good reason. He shut the lid on that particular box of troubles and gave Florence a easy smile as she took his arms, his head inclining in assent to her words. "Of course it will, you are involved after all." His words held light teasing, seemingly at ease. He followed Master Valentine from his office and into the open area of the Teahouse. It was truly well done in taste and design; it reminded him more of why he had agreed to come here, his shoulders shifted, adjusting the bag he carried of his supplies as he lead Florence toward the line of waiting people.<br><br>That it made him uneasy to have so many people waiting on him didn't show, his grey eyes instead assessing each figure that awaited them, noting their qualities and what uses might come from them. There was a banquet of beauty awaiting clients, Ryan Valentine had certainly seen to it. <br><br>There was apparently as well some sort of issue going on between one of the whores and the young woman Ryan had said took care of bookings. Nic frowned slightly, pulling Florence a touch closer in a protective manner but staying silent to see how the Master of the House would handle it. <br><br><br><br>-----------------<br><br><br>Fiona had sighed when Anel had started to get into it with Rubee, inwardly cringing that such behavior would happen on the part of either of them while clients were in the House. Still it was not her place to speak up and so she waited, apparently serene and tried to focus on keeping herself between Adi and the rest of it. Sure enough Anel threw a barb and she saw her new friend blushed and shifted, clearly believing the other man's words. <br><br>The redhead spared a moment to wish that the other whores would be less cutting to each other but knew it was a hopeless desire. Instead she reached to take Adi's hand for a moment and give it a slight squeeze, showing him a smile before clasping her hands together neatly and smiling serenely as the new clients came into sight. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>07-05-2011, 18:45:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Damn, it seemed as if something really had gotten into this other whore. Cameron raised a brow at the poorly disguised insult directed at him regarding his hair color and blinked at Anel. Obviously something had happened to him and although he was tempted to ask in that blunt manner of his, he restrained himself since he was trying to be good in order to obtain a client. Not that there were any clients here at the moment but that was bound to change at some point or else why had they called the lineup right now?<br><br>He sighed as Rubee and Anel went back and forth, trying to toss insults at eachother. Or what were supposed to be insults. Cameron couldn't really care less, he simply wanted to be let out of the lineup. Either to go off with a client or return to his drawing and he wished both of them would simply be quiet. He didn't have anything to say or do.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>10-05-2011, 01:56:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee and Anel.. What was going on here? Ryan's gaze went over both, lingering a bit longer on Anel, but he didn't comment. Though his eyes did speak, and quite clearly shooed the whore out of the room. There were clients, new clients at that, just behind him. He would not have Anel damage the reputation of the House by being.. well, Anel.<br>Then his attention went back to Rubee and he raised his voice a bit over his normal quiet volume to casually address her.<br>"I take it all went well?"<br>He deliberately ignored what seemed to be going on, demanding silently it would either resolve this instant or be shoved out of the way. This was not a time for a fight in the common room.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>10-05-2011, 02:43:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The tension in the air of the common room was as crisp and dire as the sky before a storm. It was powerful enough to drag Atticus’ focus back to the now, his gaze sweeping over the assembled beauties, noticing who wasn’t there before picking up the jagged emotion between Anel and the other accountant, Mz Mariano. <br><br>Were they going to carry on in front of clients, again? Hadn’t this morning been enough. At least Zara was out of the way. <br><br>Master Ryan seemed to be of a similar mind, the calm control that emanated from him could stop an argument dead. Could stop an orgasm.<br><br>Atticus flinched slightly as he felt his body trying to respond to the thought, and he tore his gaze away – his eye had been drawn to the man. He wouldn’t let the memory be sullied by thinking of it now. He was certain he would have to share his body, and so the cut, with – what was his name? – and that was a pity. But he didn’t have to share the memory, not by word or pose or expression. It was his, his and Master Ryan’s and the heat it carried might melt the ice he had to embrace. In a way, the morning with Master Ryan had been him, Louis. Now, he had to be Atticus.&nbsp; <br><br>It was a lesson he had been taught years ago, when he had first learnt the importance of a safeword. Just like a safeword, it was feeble and only meant to comfort, not be of any real use. Childish as it was, it helped push the anger down, the nervousness, the tension. The ache of his shoulders eased as he relaxed them. It was all right, because Louis wasn’t going to lose anything, because it wasn’t him who would be there. It would be Atticus. And Atticus <em>had </em>nothing to lose. He would be the same and everyone would be happy. <br><br>And that time, he almost believed himself. <br><br>He lifted his gaze to fix on Fiona, trying to catch her gaze so he might let her know he wanted a word. He’d hate to leave the lordling in his bedroom to find Fiona if he did deem the room too dim. Might as well work something out promptly. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crystaltears</strong> on <strong>10-05-2011, 03:48:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Florence's eyes swept over the scene in the common room with a bit of curiosity in them. Her perfect golden locks spilled over her left shoulder as she tilted her head, a finger clad in the pale blue of her gloves casually brushing along her chin. <em>'What on earth is this all about?'</em> Her gaze moved from the scene itself to Ryan, though she could not see his expression, and then to Nicholas. Certainly the air seemed charged with hostility, but then, this was a whorehouse even if it catered to expensive clientele. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>16-05-2011, 18:17:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee nodded towards Master Ryan knowing the time to argue and cause a scene was up. Clients were now here and time to put on a face when she really wanted to do was grab Anel by the hair and swing him around the Teahouse. She bet he would make a great projectile but considering how much it cost to make the Teahouse famous, she was not willing to part with any of her money. Right now, she wanted to send a few gifts to the child, Rubee let such thoughts fall into the trash for it was unlikely those gifts would be seen as a gesture of love from a true mother. The child had two loving parents and she did not need any chaos in her life by revealing she was not blood related to the parents. Yet, Rubee could not deny herself the satisfaction of acquiring a better job and more money to send such gifts. For now, she nodded twice to Master Ryan to let him know all was going well before verbally announcing it, "Yes, though there are some missing from the line up." <br><br>From her list, a few were missing and it looked as if they would be missing some great money from these two clients. She let her gaze linger towards the female in the group having felt the female was something important to the other male in the group. She was not good with names and she bet the individuals introduced themselves. Here in this establishment, best not to name drop or recall any facial characteristics should an angry wife or a lover stomp into the place demanding to know why their significant was seen entering or leaving the establishment. Rubee almost rolled her eyes at the thought but cleared her throat and held out a hand to present those who were here for the line up. "We have a mix array of individuals here at the line up to which might be a wonderful treat to the eye." Another spiel to get the ball rolling but Rubee needed to set aside the urge to brain Anel over the top of his head with her books. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>17-05-2011, 03:53:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Her heels fell silently on the carpeted hallway as Zara slowly made her way towards the stairs and down to the Ground Floor. How long had she been in her room? She couldn't remember...but her body sure as hell reminded her it had recently been through the wringer. How delightful. She had showered after the Captain had left, had remained in her tub for a good half an hour before she felt like she could move without having an orgasm on the spot. Her body ached, her sex continued to throb and for the first time since that morning Zara was...quiet. Relaxed.<br><br>It was clear that nothing shut her up faster than having someone beat and torture the pleasure out of her body.<br><br>Her hair was down as it dried, the black mass cascading down her back in silken waves. She wore a simple black corset dress (http://www.starletsandharlets.com/v/vspfiles/photos/JAUSA-2002-2.jpg) (without the shawl), her entire attire not one of a whore looking for a John/Jane but one who was comfortable for the moment. It was obvious: Zara was taking a few moments to rest from the abuse she had received at the hands of the talented Captain. She was NOT ready for more business.&nbsp; She truly hoped the Captain would return for another round...she would be sure and speak to Master Ryan and see if he would send another invitation to the dominant woman. Her steps faltered for a moment when she saw the audience on the first floor, her eyes flashing -- for just a split second -- towards <em>him</em> before she looked away and her lips curved into a slow smile.<br><br>"My apologies," She said in a quiet tone, unlike the normal tone Zara often used to address the household, "I was not aware a line up had been called." As she moved down the steps, she ran her eyes over the clients, her curiosity getting the best of her. Her eyes bounced from whore to whore until it landed on Anel and her eyes widened just slightly. What the hell had happened to him?</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 01:10:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anel should have cared that he was making an utter fool of himself in front of the other whores. Should have cared even more when the Master of the House entered the room along with what was clearly a potential client. He should have cared simply because of his own personal desire to always appear attractive and perfect... And yet he didn't.<br><br>As his slightly blurred eyes focused upon Ryan his lips parted with a loud and clearly insincere laugh, shaking his head and taking another gulp from his bottle, sighing heavily. "Oh, look who it -hic- is! The Master himself decides to finally show himself..." Already, he was pushing his luck, but he was too hurt, too shocked, too drunk to notice as he continued his rant. "Where have you been, huh? Happily prancing about your wonderful manor? Had the servants washed your damn feet for you? You... You rich... Rich asshole...!" He took a deep, shuddering breath, glancing briefly at Zara as she entered before continuing.<br><br>"You sure weren't doing your job, were you!? I'm magic, that's how I know! You were nowhere to be seen... Neither were you!" It was Atticus' turn as Anel turned to face him, his expression shifting slowly from anger to simple depression.<br><br>"Where were you, too!? Probably out doing fuck all, as usual... Or, wait..." Slowly, the whore looked between the pair, a second laugh passing between his lips. "I bet you were doing each other! The Master's pet and the failure." He spat, swallowing thickly. "Both of you... Not doing your jobs... What if something had happened!? What if someone needed a little help!? But no; you weren't thinking of that whilst you were having a good fuck..." Finally, Anel seemed to have finished, and he took a wobbly step towards the client, narrowing his eyes before he delivered a final comment to the man.<br><br>"You don't want to come here. No one gives a shit..." His words ended with the slightest hint of a sob, though it was likely that it would go unnoticed, unless one was paying particular attention.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 01:28:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The moment Anel started speaking, Ryan's eyes narrowed. Of course he was used to the boy's antics, but he couldn't recall when he had been.. drunk last. He seemed quite aggressive, like always, but there was a hint of something else, too, though he couldn't quite lay his finger on what that would be.<br>His first inclination was to smack the boy across his face due to, quite frankly, bringing the House's name down with him. He didn't know what had put Anel into this state of being, but it couldn't have been something small.<br>He didn't say anything in reply to Anel, the cold distance of his stance growing while his gaze when to Rubee and stayed on her.<br>"Remove him. I'll talk to him later," he said, so calm it seemed he had no emotion at all. "I don't care if you have to lock up him up in his room or not, Rubee, but he shall not bring shame to the House by being this drunk in the presence of clients.."<br><br>Then he turned and nodded at Zara. "I gave orders to collect those who were not entertaining, Zara. You were, and thus were excluded."<br><br>He then turned his attention to the clients, both Nick and Florence, and gave them an apologetic smile.<br>"Please forgive the young sir for drinking too much," he said quietly, inwardly cursing at the scene that had unfold.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 01:59:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">There was a small moment of sanity for Zara as she watched the entire scene unfold before her. Anel had NEVER been that disrespectful to Master Ryan! Zara narrowed her eyes and before she realized what she was saying, she heard her voice call out, "Let me take him, Master Ryan." She found her steps moving swiftly towards her drunk 'friend' and took his arm in a firm grip. Her voice was sweet as she added to the guests, "I am sure you wouldn't want to be in the same household as this...tainted whore."<br><br>Her eyes flashed to Rubee for a split second before she looked at Anel and said in a cold tone, "Apologize to the guests, Anel." Her eyes flashed with ice; why were these whores so hellbent on destroying the Teahouse name??</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 02:18:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It looked as if Anel was writing his own walking papers to be thrown out of the Teahouse. She knew a few of the whores were loud and sometimes took things too far but never had any of them done it in front of clients. Usually, the fighting was kept behind closed doors or at least swept under the Persian rug to be handled at a later date. For Anel to continue with his drunken barrage of words made Rubee wince in pain for Anel. She winced for the male would surely have his ass thrown out with no clothes on his back if he continued to fuck up the name of the Teahouse. However, it seemed Master Ryan was able to handle Anel for his words cut through for Anel's foolish behind to be removed from the area. Yet, Rubee, did not expect for the removal to fall on her shoulders. Did Master Ryan not feel the brewing tension between Anel and her? She would have throttled the little man whore if she had the privacy needed to get away with wrapping her fingers around his throat.<br><br>Yet, it was business and Rubee did not need to fuck up the line up even more by refusing Master Ryan in front of the clients. Rubee was ready to step in when another whore, Zara took over for Anel. Inside, Rubee sighed in relief not to take Anel up to his room, or worse, her own room. She would be fine if Anel went into a fit of destructive rage and ruined his bedroom. If he tried flinging her own stuff around, the whore would end up with his head bashed against the wall. At least, Zara would be able to knock some sense into Anel. The two made their lives by money and hopefully, Zara would inform Anel how perilously close he was getting to losing out on a large sum of money. Would he still be even viable for the bid once people found out about his attitude? God, there was a lot of money riding on his virginity and Master Ryan would surely slice someone's throat. Rubee wished the throat was the former accountant but alas, she had to hold in her wishes and wants.<br><br>"Thank you, Zara," Rubee murmured, nodding her head to the other female before turning her attention back towards the clients. "The Teahouse prides itself on the best and as you can see by the rest of the line up, we have many which will satisfy any and all appetites you might have to bring to the Teahouse." Rubee only hoped the clients would look over Anel's fit of drunken rage and not let it affect the stance of the other whores in the line up. Some of the whores were not too bad considering the rest had kept quiet and tried not to throw their two cents in. Better to keep one's mouth shut than having it flap around. She knew she needed to work on her temper considering the need to fly at anyone who angered her was not the best solution to her problems. It would be fun but Santiago always reminded her that the temper was fleeting but maturity lasted throughout any weather storm. God, how she missed Santiago. He would have kept her grounded but now she needed to ground herself.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crystaltears</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 02:50:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The finger tracing along Florence's chin rested idle for a time as Anel spoke, his words clearly motivated by emotions, or at least clearly to her. She suspected that a whorehouse would be full of people who were as skilled or more skilled than she when it came to reading others and wondered for a moment just what this particular employee had been through. Whatever it was, she could feel the tension mounting in Nicholas and it drew a frown over her pretty lips. <em>'How long has he been looking for that element even I can't furnish, and now he wants to leave it. Oh there are definitely dark things in my lover's past... But we all have shadows behind us.'</em> <br><br>Her other hand, the one on Nic's arm, squeezed reassuringly, blue eyes turning up to his. Her voice came out at a level only just above a whisper as she spoke to her escort, "I have it on good authority, Darling, that they treat their employees quite well," this in response to Anel's accusations that no one cared. She went on because she had the distinct impression Nicholas would be inclined to leave after the outburst of the whore, "Clearly something is amiss at the moment, but if nothing else you should still take the opportunity to paint, Love. You've been searching so long for the element I can't supply. It would be a pity to let it go after finding it, hm?" She offered him a smile, turning all her charms on the man again in an effort to set him at ease. The lady went so far as to move in front of him, blue eyes demanding his attention on her gently smiling face. It was the best distraction she could offer and it also put her between Nicholas and the door in a completely harmless way. Of course there was still no telling if Nic would be soothed by his lover's tender words and actions.<br><br>"I'm sure Master Valentine will see to the man and that this is quite unusual based on what we've witnessed here so far, but if you're uncomfortable staying I will understand," she said with her charming smile. She would understand, truly, because Nicholas meant more to her at that moment than any other person in the world. She didn't want him to mistake her encouragement that they see the evening through as originally planned for insensitivity to his feelings.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 03:36:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				If the people had tried to purposefully rouse memories that he had thought locked away forever they could not have done better he thought bitterly, eyes flashing around those gathered in the elegant room awaiting his and Florence's selection. Who would have thought to find so much tension in a upscale brothel? The artist's eyes were drawn by the appearance of another young woman, dark of hair and luscious of body, she would be wonderful to work with he thought, something about her sensual and fiery. He however was considering the door. <br><br>And then the raving whore, for he did believe the delicate pale haired man who was so clearly drunk was a whore, turned his tirade upon Master Valentine and Atticus, even going to far as to speak to Nicholas himself about the whores not being cared for. Outwardly his face was blank, inwardly he was fighting the urge to something, he wasn't quiet sure what. It would probably be something stupid, like asking just what in the hell had happened to the raving blond, or yanking Florence along and out of this place as quickly as possible. Both would raise attention to his extreme dislike for people who abused whores, owners and clients alike, and raise questions he had no desire to answer surface from his lover's lips. So he froze, grey eyes darkening and wary. <br><br>Master Ryan's words did little put him at ease, as clearly this 'Anel' had been drinking far too much; but to block out what? To ease what pain? So much for a higher class brothel. <br><br>Florence was there, drawing his attention, speaking in such soft, intimate and soothing tones, smiling and charming. He relaxed some, less stiff at her side before he shrugged, as if this all were nothing to him, as if he had not seriously thought about going for the door several times over the past few moments. "We have already arranged the contract; I do not offer my word so lightly on things as you know sweet, we will stay and see it through for now." <br><br><br>----------------------<br><br><br>Atticus seemed on edge, something darkening his blue eye as it settled on her. It was enough to draw her thoughts away from Anel and Adi for a moment, to make her tilt her head in silent question at the body guard. Her pale aquamarine eyes softened looking at his familiar features, something of a smile tugging on her lips that held a sparkle that was beyond even the normal serene cheerfulness she presented to new clients. Excusing herself from next to Adi with a soft murmur she slipped out of the line as Anel became center focus. The redhead sighed, shaking her head though feeling relief that Zara took over the blond rather then Rubee, the way the accountant and Anel had been going at each other before made her think sending the two of them off alone would have been a bad idea. <br><br>Coming up beside Atti she touched his arm lightly, letting him know she was there, though with Anel's rant she doubted his focus would be on her at the moment. His focus was always the Teahouse, and the Master when those things demanded his attention.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 04:19:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His gaze flicked to the stairs as he saw someone descend – Zara, looking radiant and serine in the aftermath of bliss. Even with the tension stalking back and forth like a long-caged animal, he couldn’t pull his attention from her for a moment. Seeing her so relaxed and content after a client made him pleased – but then he realised, stupidly slow, what Anel’s very visible anguish meant. <br><br>Usually a visit from Lord Aldrich left Anel in a similar state to Zara’s, tender but alight, memories making him glow distractingly. This... was beyond uncharacteristic. Drunken rage? Not the playful baiting, not the sly, wicked tease, but throwing out an agony so deep... <br><br>Where was Lord Aldrich? Anel was here, but there had been no one to Master Ryan’s office. There had been no frantic servant to tell him there was a disturbance that had to be investigated, so it couldn’t have been anything like that... had the lord decided to retract his patronage, and told Anel so? Was the boy heartbroken over a lost client? Or was it nothing to do with the man?<br><br>It still didn’t answer where the lord was.<br><br>When Anel’s pain spilled over and his bile spewed at Master Ryan, Atticus’ brows lifted, shocked at the youth’s daring, his stupidity. The his pale, lovely, furious face turned on him, then crumpled into the darkest sorrow that drove something deep into the aching muscle of his heart. <br><br><em>"Where were you, too!? Probably out doing fuck all, as usual... Or, wait... I bet you were doing each other! The Master's pet and the failure. Both of you... Not doing your jobs... What if something had happened!? What if someone needed a little help!? But no; you weren't thinking of that whilst you were having a good fuck..."</em> <br><br>He didn’t look at Master Ryan, or flinch or betray the truth in any way. He didn’t even try to defend himself. He just took it and gave nothing back, knowing that was what the youth wanted. He did give a soft hiss as Anel turned to the client and bad mouthed the House – too far, he wanted to say, but he held his tongue. <br><br>Master Ryan ordered Anel be escorted away, and Zara come forward to do it. Atticus deeply wanted to find out what had happened, but he could not, not now. He let out a breath as the clients smoothed ruffled feathers, though they decided to stay. Luckily for Anel. <br><br>Fiona broke away from the line up and he curved his fingers around her elbow, drawing her a little further off, wishing for no one to overhear. In a whisper little more than a breath he said, “Fiona... The gentleman desires to... well. He claims to be an artist. And that I am suitable to his needs.” His utter disbelief was as clear as Anel’s anger. “Should my room not give adequate lighting for his endeavour, I would give you a cut of my fee for the temporary use of yours. An hour, he says is what he needs.” He was not at all happy, and he knew Fiona would see it no matter how blank his face was. “Five percent?” he offered.&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 05:30:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cam had remained silent for the most part. No one had said anything to him ever since the spat between Rubee and Anel had started. So he really saw no need to attempt and strike up a conversation. After all, this was a lineup and not a place to chatter. All he wanted to do was get back to his drawing so he could finish his current sketch. Then, he could start painting it and have it turn into a beautiful work of art. Since he probably wasn't going to be chosen in this lineup, he was simply wasting his time being here.<br><br>An almost inaudible sigh escaped his lips as he continued to wait. It wouldn't be respectful to leave without being dismissed, so he would remain here. He heard a murmured whisper between Fiona and Atticus but couldn't quite make out what was being said. But he did manage to hear the word 'artist' and that piqued his interest. Could one of them be interested in the subject? Or was it that one of the customers was into it? It wasn't as if he had anything else to occupy his time with so he continued to attempt to eavesdrop.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 05:35:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; The redhead's eyes went to Anel for a moment as Atticus took her arm and drew her off, concern for both the pale blond and for the man touching her showing in them before she pushed them away and was merely easily smiling again. The touch of Atticus' gloved hands was most welcome, like a sweet addiction that none but her knew of. She was proud in herself that she kept from blushing or from thinking about memories that had no place in this moment. Elegantly her head tilted to listen to the whisper of his voice, that familiar voice that so often conversed with her about books and words. <br><br>It startled her though, to hear him speak of taking any sort of 'client'; she knew how hard his past had been on him and the worry that darkened her eyes she made no effort to hide. It was all too easy to remember how he had been when he had first arrived at the Teahouse. <br><br>She bit her lower lip, wondering if her rejecting the request would keep him from risking what little happiness and peace he had had here. But no, Atticus was stubborn and it was clear he was already set upon doing this. What prompting had happened? Ryan would not have pressured him into it would he? Her eyes moved to the strangers, noting the uneasy with which the artist stood. She frowned, considering before she realized who it was thanks to her connection with Lady Stanbury; grey eyed Nicholas Bereck had won many hearts among the nobles and when she drew idle gossip from one of her most common clients she often paid attention. <br><br>Again her eyes went back to Atticus, wishing she dared more then she could in so public an area; what lay between them though outside of the public parts of the House were private and meant to stay that way until he desired otherwise. That was the haven she could offer him. She shook her head, a wry, sad smile on her lips as she spoke in a soft thread of whispers. "He is, an artist that is. Lady Lorraine has spoken of him, he's quiet the fashion these days, if that makes you feel any better? He's a Knight as well, are you not glad now I declined to turn you into a beast when I slayed those words for you?" She tried at a joke, wanting to ease the pain she sensed in him, the confusion and hurt. Perhaps later she could get him to relax, read him poetry or something. She squeezed his hand lightly. "I'll take nothing from it though, whatever money he's offering should go to you. You know I don't hurt for clients and if money is your reason for this then I would not deny you even a cooper of what is yours. Just...be careful with yourself dear friend, even if the money is tempting."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 20:25:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anel couldn't understand in his drunken state how anyone had the nerve to be angry at him; did they not realise what had just happened!? Of course no one had any idea, but the crushing weight of how much money he had lost for the House, how his self respect had all but vanished caused any logical thought to drift further and further away. Ryan and Atticus especially. It was their fault! Where were they!? His mind was going in circles and as Zara approached his gaze snapped to her and he almost growled.<br><br>"Get off me! Piss off whore! Wait... Screw you, anyway!" He shouted at the woman, trying to pry his arm free from her grasp and as he failed (being surprised by just how hard-a grip the woman had), he sighed heavily and shook his head, glancing briefly to Nicholas over Fiona's head. For a fleeting moment, it seemed like the boy planned to apologise before he burst into sudden laughter and winked at the man.<br><br>"Have a good fuck." He commented simply, taking a brief moment to glare with a shocking degree of venom towards the Master and bodyguard before turning again to Zara. "So, bitch. Where are you dragging me off to now? Quick, hurry! I might shame the Great and Mighty Ryan!" He chuckled once again, placing the bottle to his lips again and almost finishing its contents.<br><br>"Get a move on. Don't want to look at the gits anymore..." He muttered, loud enough so that only Zara and anyone close enough could hear, his tone suddenly bleak and deeply depressed.<br><br>"Screw your apology, also!" He added, drifting back to a shout.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 21:55:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"He is, an artist that is. Lady Lorraine has spoken of him, he's quiet the fashion these days, if that makes you feel any better? He's a Knight as well, are you not glad now I declined to turn you into a beast when I slayed those words for you?" </em><br><br>He didn’t know what to say to that. No, it didn’t make it any better, knowing the man hadn’t lied on that count. He could tell her how knights were only chivalrous in her cherished books, but she was trying to comfort him. Why, he didn’t quite understand, but he smiled slightly at the reminder of the embarrassing, sweet afternoon. “Maybe you should have, so he wouldn’t…” He stopped, not wanting to finish. What was he, a child? He couldn’t complain, it had been his choice. His. <br><br>He smiled at her, briefly, feeling it tug on his scars, hiding his fear. “Would you tell me his name, if you know it? I missed the introduction.”<br><br><em>"I'll take nothing from it though, whatever money he's offering should go to you. You know I don't hurt for clients and if money is your reason for this then I would not deny you even a cooper of what is yours. Just...be careful with yourself dear friend, even if the money is tempting."</em><br><br>“Fiona,” he murmured, exasperated with her refusal of compensation. “How can I say thank you when you won’t let me?” He was about to try to persuade her when Anel’s fury bubbled over again, loud and abrasive and ugly. Atticus looked towards the boy, then hissed to Fiona, “What happened to him? He’s usually so happy when Lord Aldrich visits.”&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 22:10:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em> “Maybe you should have, so he wouldn’t…” </em><br><br>A smile and then those words, the hint of pain, of fear in his eye. Fiona wanted to beg him not to do this to himself but she couldn't, not here and not without understanding more and here was not the place to probe for more details. At least she had made him smile, made him think of the rainy afternoon and that silly archaic word. Another smile he gave her, this one she sensed to sooth her though he might as well have spared himself the effort. She knew the masks they both used and hers would stay as firmly in place as his did. Oh the quiet aches. <br><br>The request for his name earned a nod and she leaned closer, not wanting to draw too much attention to their discussion. "Nicholas, Sir Nicholas Bureck; his is a northern family, he's a younger son actually, third son I think. I don't remember much more outside of that other then ravings about his work." <br><br>It almost amused her, the frustration that lingered in his face, in his voice at her refusal to take money from him for the use of her room; he could be stubborn but so could she about a few things. She crinkled her nose at him playfully, meaning to give a tart reply that would hopefully ease his mind when Anel lashed out again and any thought of laughter faded. Her blue green eyes were worried as they watched Zara try to pull the other whore away. <br><br><em>“What happened to him? He’s usually so happy when Lord Aldrich visits.”</em><br><br>"I don't know, he came downstairs like that largely, though a bit less drunk. He insulted near all the other whores and got into it with Rubee...but I haven't seen Lord Aldrich yet; perhaps they had a row?" Her eyes moved back to his sole cornflower blue one and she attempted a smile, wondering if today was meant to seem to be falling apart at the seams. Ryan would hold them all together, he always managed to somehow. "I'm sure once the new clients are settled the Master will be able to deal with it. As for a cut, I'll take 3%, not a cent more. If he wants to pose you why not use the couch to start with, use the memories there to ground you some? He is an artist, so perhaps...have a little faith." <br><br>Her words then were chosen to sooth and offer a touch stone, the couch where they had lingered so often to discuss books and words, where she had sounded out the odd words that stumbled his elegant voice. Perhaps it being somewhere with so many good memories would mean that his fears wouldn't take too much of his mind; the money she assented to only to put him at ease, she'd simply find a way to gift it back to him. Perhaps in a new waistcoat.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 23:14:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">It did not come as a surprise that instead of apologizing Anel decided to stick his other foot inside his mouth. <em>Well his mouth is big enough.</em> She almost rolled her eyes at his behavior, except that something had caught her attention. For a split second, her eyes flashed with fury -- very much like the 'usual Zara' before she schooled her features and tightened her grip on Anel's arm, ignoring the jabs he made at her. Zara was used to being called a bitch, a whore...it was all the things she was, so why be offended? She did not care if she bruised him, whether by choice or force, she was going to drag him outside and have a nice long talk with him.<br><br>"Move," Zara snapped before she clenched her teeth and forced her tone to remain polite because of the guests. She had seen the way the male glanced at the door longingly and if Anel caused this deal to fall through, Master Ryan would surely beat him within an inch of his life. No...he wouldn't beat Anel...but he would make the young whore's life miserable. <em>As if it isn't already?</em><br><br>As she began to walk with Anel, she glanced over her shoulder and looked at Master Ryan, shaking her head slightly to let him know not to come outside. She wasn't ordering him...or at least she didn't mean to...but she wanted him to know that she would go to him when Anel controlled himself. Her steps were quick, trying to drag Anel away from the scene he was causing...and the scene she had seen that had made her heart clench painfully. <br><br><em>Welcome to the Teahouse,</em> she thought bitterly as she pushed Anel through the Garden doors, <em>Where nothing is as it seems.</em><br><br>(continued Outside (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98856.msg4662745#msg4662745))</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 23:30:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"Nicholas, Sir Nicholas Bureck; his is a northern family, he's a younger son actually, third son I think. I don't remember much more outside of that other then ravings about his work.”</em><br><br>Sir Nicholas Bureck. He wasn’t at all familiar with the name, the broadsheet favoured by Master Bradoon had very little in the way of culture, preferring to cover the wars abroad, technological advances and politics. He was glad Fiona was kept abreast of fine arts, as he had no desire to seem an easy target for punishment. <br><br><em>"I don't know, he came downstairs like that largely, though a bit less drunk. He insulted near all the other whores and got into it with Rubee...but I haven't seen Lord Aldrich yet; perhaps they had a row?"</em><br><br>“It’s possible. He’s not been to Master Ryan’s office yet. Could he have ski...” He halted himself abruptly, licked his lip and swallowed before continuing, “... left without paying, perhaps? Mmn.” Her smile was little comfort when there was a client waiting, Anel imploding, and a client conspicuously absent, though he let his shoulders ease somewhat. He watched as Zara dragged Anel outside, and he ached to follow after. Something had hurt Anel and the youth had been right, he <em>hadn't</em> been doing his job. What had happened?<br><br><em>"I'm sure once the new clients are settled the Master will be able to deal with it. As for a cut, I'll take 3%, not a cent more. If he wants to pose you why not use the couch to start with, use the memories there to ground you some? He is an artist, so perhaps...have a little faith." </em><br><br>“You know you are meant to barter in the opposite direction,” he muttered, but didn’t harry her any more. “Very well, three.” He nodded at her suggestion, but wouldn’t follow it; like his time with Ryan, those memories were his, and he was against tainting them. As for ‘having faith’ in a client... her naivety was terrifying. “Thank you, Fiona.”<br><br>He moved away from her, his hand not releasing at one, drawing along her forearm as if he were reluctant to let go, and moved closer to the clients, wanting to get it over with but knowing that the man had wanted to speak to Adi.&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>26-05-2011, 01:30:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ryan made a mental note to seek out and speak to Anel when Zara took him with her, a slight nod given to her in both recognition and in thanks.<br>Anel was often sharp of tongue, but he never went <em>this</em> far. He needed to know what had happened and he dared guess something was quite amiss.<br><br>Where was Gareth? He had not come through his office to pay for his visit. And, looking at Rubee, it seemed he had not gone by her, either.<br>A slight frown drew itself.<br>Anel never was like this right after Gareth visited. Could he have done something to shame Ryan's trust in him?<br>He better not have.<br><br>His gaze went back to Nic and he nodded lightly at him. A man of his word, but how would this colour his view of the Teahouse?<br>"I'm glad to hear it, sir," he said, a slight smile spreading again, more to attempt show nothing was wrong.<br>"I do wish to speak with the young man soon. I would hate to rush this and leave you and your lovely Lady's company, but the young man is under my care.."<br>He left the rest unsaid, and didn't look all too rushed either. Ryan was worried, though. As he was irritated by the ordeal.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>26-05-2011, 01:47:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adi became a bit more quiet and withdrawn once Fiona had walked away from him, taken to just counting the tiles on the ceiling to distract himself from the goings-on, being rather unfamiliar with how to attract clients at all. <br><br>It was around this time he usually started questioning what on earth he was doing here. Why was he here? He had no business here. He had no idea what he was doing. People weren't going to want someone as inexperienced and weird as he was... it was probably a good thing he hadn't unpacked because he certainly wasn't going to be staying here much longer... <br><br>Adi subsequently found himself beginning to get very anxious, the sounds of everyone else around him gradually fading under the noise of his own thoughts as his eyes darted from ceiling tile to ceiling tile. It was only the thought that he'd get himself removed from the Teahouse sooner that kept him from actually having a panic attack. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>26-05-2011, 01:56:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was so much going on and so few answers ready, she wished that she could offer answers to her friends questions but all the redhead could do was shrug her shoulders sadly. The mutter about how she was suppose to bargain in the direction for increase of a cut earned a slight quirk of her lips in amusement and a glint of laughter in her eyes. "Perhaps, but you like me for my surprises no? Stubborn I fear. Its my pleasure as always to offer any help I can." <br><br>He moved away from her and she stayed, her breath catching and eyes shutting for a brief moment as his hand slowly trailed down her arm. It was such a simple touch but oh to feel him at any time was a delightful gift. But it was working hours and they both had jobs to do. When his touch finally left hers she slipped back in line next to Adi, hoping no one thought too much of her and Atticus speaking so. They had often been seen discussing books after all over the past few months, no one knew of the direction their friendship was taking. That it could take. But she wasn't going to press him, it was in his hands to ask Master Ryan as she had told him before. She would not break the trust of the man that had taken them both in and she had never given of herself to another without his approval. Her body was more Ryan's in that aspect then her own, she knew what she owed him and she honored that. <br><br>Sensing Adi's stress though and turning her thoughts away from herself she gathered his hand in hers again, giving it a slight squeeze and offering him a smile. "Relax," she whispered softly. "Remember, you are incredible, they will want you."<br><br>------------<br><br><em>"Have a good fuck." </em><br><br>Yes, this was a delightful afternoon alright. Nic's grey eyes darkened like a thunderstorm and his expression was cold and aloof, something uncommon for the usually animated artist. He watched the pale blond whore be dragged off by the dark haired beauty; watched as the redhead talked to Atticus and glanced at him with curiosity in her eyes and knowledge. She knew who he was. Ah good, then his sense of popularity hadn't been imagined after all. How refreshing. Daring of her to get out of the lineup; though she slipped back there readily enough and Master Valentine was talking so Nicholas redirected his attention there wondering if there were any more delightful surprises to be had.<br><br>"Please, do not let me detain you. It is obvious your...employee is upset and your first duty is to him. Simply plan to meet again in your study in two hours?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>26-05-2011, 02:10:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He became aware he was nodding again at Nic, it was starting to become a nuisance to him, even if it were polite nods.<br>"Thank you, sir, I shall. But not before something else that needs my attention," he said calmly and smiled a bit broader, then turned and looked along the line-up until he spotted Adi.<br><br>Ryan walked over to him casually and leaned in slowly, as to not add to Adi's discomfort, flashing a slight smile at Fi. He chose the ear at her side, so she might listen in and whispered so low only they would be able to hear it.<br>"Calm down, Adonijah. Breathe. The lady has shown interest in you. Stand straight and smile polite smiles."<br>He didn't study Adi for his reaction as he would have done normally ; quite the clear sign to those who really knew him he was concerned. Instead, he moved from the whore and nodded at Rubee.<br>"If you would be so kind to take over, I will go after Anel and see what the problem is."<br>He only waited long enough for people to respond, taking up his mask of cold and distanced efficiency again.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>26-05-2011, 02:41:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adonijah was barely able to pull himself out of his own thoughts enough to acknowledge Fiona, looking to her with an anxious, somewhat forced smile as he squeezed her hand. <br><br>Ryan approaching him to speak to him was a complete shock, and he wasn't even able to react to his words. He stared up at the master of the house, dumbfounded, unable to even breathe for a long moment as he watched him walk away, his mouth open slightly in surprise. <br><br>Gradually, his grip on Fiona's hand lessened. Maybe it was from holding his breath for a moment, but he felt a bit numb, and shaky. He eventually was able to force himself to breathe again, his hands trembling a bit. Someone had shown interest in him? Were they actually going to hire him?<br><br>Oh, god - what did he do now? A slight look of panic in his eyes, he looked over to Fiona, hoping she could give him some answers. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>26-05-2011, 02:52:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Master Ryan's approach had made her curious but then it had been all she could do to keep back a smile as he spoke and revealed that Adi had been chosen; hopefully that would go a long way toward reassuring him. Ryan had spoken so she could hear so she figured he wanted her to give Adi a bit of a prep talk as he pulled away and Fi happily turned her attention to the other whore. <br><br>He had been panicking about not being chosen and now was near panicking about being chosen. She smiled at him though, trying to seem only peaceful and at ease as she leaned in and touched his shoulder lightly. "And she clearly wanted that before I even touched your clothing or offered you scent, see? You are desirable, just don't fret." <br><br>The redhead glanced at Florence, noting how the woman had handled her male companion. "She seems like one who knows what she wants, let her guide the encounter, pay attention to anything that stands out to you but just be yourself. That is what they are paying for after all. You'll do wonderfully, I'm sure." She squeezed his hand one last time but then let go and stepped a bit to the side, wanting to give him time to gather himself and to not get in the way of the interaction between the blond lady and Adi. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crystaltears</strong> on <strong>26-05-2011, 15:15:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Please, do not let me detain you. It is obvious your...employee is upset and your first duty is to him. Simply plan to meet again in your study in two hours?" Nicholas said to Master Ryan. Florence nodded her head in agreement as she took her place at Nicholas' side again.<br><br>"Thank you, sir, I shall. But not before something else that needs my attention," the Master responded before offering a smile and making his way along the lineup. He paused to lean in close to Adonijah and Florence realized she'd nearly forgotten the whore with all the tension of the last few moments.<br><br>Her shoulders relaxed a bit as her lips curled into another of her easy smiles. <em>'Well, we're staying. Perhaps Atticus can ease Nic's concerns.. And even if he can't, Adonijah and I surely will be able to when I'm finished with him.'</em> The thought was a bit arrogant perhaps, but Florence was nothing if not confident.<br><br>The Master spoke to the redhead Florence had been eying earlier after he'd finished with Adonijah. He seemed to fall back into his more controlled visage as he did. It was almost a marvel to watch in its own way... For she was very familiar with the uses of being able to change one's apparent mood on a moment's notice, and watching another practitioner of such control... Well, it was a bit like watching another master of an art she practiced. The question became, which were his real smiles? Which were his false ones? <em>'A riddle for another day, perhaps, or for another person altogether.'</em><br><br>Florence turned her gaze up at Nicholas again, blue eyes soft and gentle. She would let him lead her through the lineup. Her hand gently squeezed her escort's, a reminder that she was indeed here with him, and that she would be there for him if he needed her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>27-05-2011, 01:57:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee nodded to Master Ryan knowing she had to take over and look over the new clients. She wondered what went through each of their minds but her mind was on waiting on the new bid from the courier. A bid had not come through and she worried the courier got himself lost or was taking some back alley whore in between runs. Right now the bidding was at an astronomical sum but with the way Anel acted in the Teahouse, she doubted anyone would want to get near the drunk whore. She was even more surprised Master Ryan had not let his anger spill out in front of the clients and smashed Anel's teeth in with his fist. The way Anel spoke about the Master and his guard, Atticus, Rubee had wanted to see a bit of blood bath with Atticus throwing Anel against a wall and choke the life out of him. She doubted anyone brought up Atticus' sexual history without getting a whack upside the head or the thread of death if Atticus's name was used in a bad light.<br><br>Yet, as she watched Zara leave with Anel and the rest of the whores settles themselves back in line, Rubee pondered over a few items. She wondered what would happen to many of them when their youth faded and their clients left them for younger, hungrier and more agile whores? Would they be cast out of the Teahouse? What about those who looked to be making the lowest in wages? She let her eyes glance towards Cam, wondering what was his story but knowing Rubee could not let herself sympathize with any one of the whores here at the Teahouse. She had her own hell to contend with and needed to make her money last her for the next few weeks. At the moment she set aside the slight dramatics in the line up at the Teahouse and introduced herself to the clients. "My name is Rubee and I will say all of the individuals here at the line up have their own attributes to show you. Is there anyone in the line up, who piques your interest?," she asked, spreading her hand out to show the whores who could easily be chosen for the Sir Nicholas and his companion Florence.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>02-06-2011, 01:03:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Taking one last, long look around the room, he nodded, firmly, one more time and turned to leave.<br>His mind wandered for a moment, concerned about too many things, but to damn proud to admit it openly, his mask firmly in place.<br>There was no doubt in his mind the gentleman client would not touch Atticus in any way he didn't want. Right? None. Nope.<br>And, a client for Adi. His reaction to what Ryan had whispered led him to think all kinds of things. But not worry. No.<br>He also didn't worry about who else the two clients may or may not pick from the line up.<br><br>Tidying his clothes, he walked away and out of the room, wondering how on earth this day was going to end.<br><hr>Next (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98856.msg4726905#msg4726905)<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>02-06-2011, 21:40:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				At Master Ryan moved through the room, Atticus watched him, feeling an odd, unwelcome resentment towards those he murmured to, though he knew Adi nor Rubee deserved it. He had no right to feel this way. Was he so selfish that he wanted to be the only thing Master Ryan focused on? For a moment, he felt leather around his wrists again, felt heavy strands trail over his skin - <em>fuck, get a grip!</em> He looked away from the tall, powerful man, biting his lip for a second though it did not help when the bite mark left there flared hotly. At least he felt no jealousy for Anel. <br><br>The Master of the House left the room, and Atticus exhaled slowly. It must be the sex. Had to be. His gaze moved to the knight, then jerked away. Let it be something else... <br><br>He reached again for the cold, empty place, the perfect emptiness where there was not past or future, just doing what he had to to please the client. It was more difficult now, but his hold on it was firmer. He could carry it on until the artist was satisfied. He kept back and kept quiet as Rubee introduced herself, offered the line up for their pleasures. He wanted to just take the man up to his room and get it over with - but he couldn't find the courage to make it come faster.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>02-06-2011, 21:52:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nicholas glanced down at petite and beautiful Florence, finding a affectionate smile to give her even as he inclined his head and drew her closer to the lined up whores to go over them. "Well then my darling, let us conclude your selection and start the more pleasurable part of this trip." <em>At least one hopes.</em> He thought to himself as the accountant gestured to the whores and asked her question. He shook his head himself, though there were a few that caught his eye he had enough for today, should he ever return. <br><br>"It is for the lady's choice now, I found the model I wish to use. Though Atticus did you ask about the room you suggested as an alternative? I would hate to make someone uncomfortable by stealing their space." This was said as he walked with Florence at his side down the line up, pausing before Adi since he was who had caught his companions eyes. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crystaltears</strong> on <strong>08-06-2011, 20:47:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Florence beamed at Nicholas' words, particularly much because he'd called her 'my darling'. She touched his arm only as lightly as a feather might while they walked the line of whores, and offered only a small nod in response to Rubee's question. She took her time about looking over the the options presented her despite having pretty much settled on Adonijah. You never knew, after all, when something pretty would catch your eye. <em>'I'm going to have to come back here,'</em> Florence found herself thinking as her blue eyes moved over a copper-haired beauty and onto a blonde. <em>'So many I'd like to... enjoy.'</em><br><br>None were tempting enough to sway her decision, though, and so Florence offered Adonijah a smile as Nicholas paused beside him. "I believe I would enjoy sharing my time here with you. Adonijah, wasn't it?" She spoke quietly to Adonijah, wondering just how he would feel being addressed by name when he had yet to be introduced. Hopefully he would pick up on that little detail and realize there must have been some conversation about him in his absence.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>19-06-2011, 03:42:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adi's gaze flicked to Fiona, and he gave her an uneasy smile, somewhat reluctantly letting go of her hand as he drew away. He wasn't sure why at first, until he looked back to Nick and Florence as they approached him. His large brown eyes looking somewhat like a cornered deer, he was frozen briefly. At Florence's smile he managed to return one of his own, his cheeks flushing as he tried to fight off the awkwardness of finally being addressed after having been here so long, with no one choosing him. <br><br>For a moment, having not really caught any conversation and therefore knowing nothing about the purpose of Nick's visit, Adi was a bit anxious at the thought that perhaps they <em>both</em> wanted him, but Florence's comment put him at ease somewhat. After all, she'd said <em>I</em>, not <em>we,</em> and so a little bit of the panicked stiffness of his posture began to loosen. He'd focused so much on preparing himself for being turned down, that he'd not really prepared himself for being chosen. The fact that Florence knew his name already didn't even register with him, his thoughts were racing so much. <br><br>Adi knew he had to calm down. His eyes slid shut, and he took a deep breath. In his mind it seemed like he'd been quiet for a long time, but no more than a few seconds had passed when he opened the again, breathing out slowly. A more calm smile tugged at his lips, and he extended a hand gracefully towards Florence in greeting. <br><br>"I also go by Adi, madame," he spoke, his gaze meeting Florence's. "I do hope I don't disappoint you then," He responded, with a slightly awkward laugh that betrayed a bit of his anxiety. <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>19-06-2011, 05:34:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The terrible tranquillity eased through his mind, numbing his emotion and paralysing his fear. He would not baulk for this. Obey the client, please the Master. It was a narrow, choking existence, one he had willingly entered into, one he was bound to. There was no options. No escape. Only obedience. <br><br>The knight asked about the room and Atticus bowed his head, not nodding but a subservient affirmative. “I have made arrangements, sir. When you are ready, you may decide where best suits your desires.” He let his tongue caress the last word gently, his voice turning to a gentle purr of anticipation and sultry eagerness he did not feel. He liked that trick, that let him turn his words to velvet, thick and warm and inviting. He couldn’t recall ever having to use it in the Teahouse. Distantly, he wondered what the whores would think. He didn’t look away from Bureck as he kept pace with him. He couldn’t become distracted.<br><br>The lady spoke to her prey, and Atticus could feel the nervousness of the duel gendered whore. His first time with a client, Atticus recalled. Well, at least she was attractive and healthy, and in the relative safety of a House. He could certainly have worse introductions to a whore’s life.&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crystaltears</strong> on <strong>20-06-2011, 22:53:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Florence could sense the tension in Adonijah as he spoke. She found it rather endearing in a way, particularly the color that flooded his cheeks and the breath he took with his eyes closed. <em>'I wonder just how accustomed he is to his position.. Even to the idea of it. This should make for delightful fun.'</em><br><br>The demeanor Adonijah presented Florence seemed more than capable of coaxing the minx from the lady for even as she stood before Adi she could envision all manner of pleasure the two might enjoy. An hour could be a very long time for someone in as playful a mood as hers, and yet it might also be too short.. But she fully intended to have Adonijah worn out before Nic joined them, increasing the chances the whore would make a suitable model, and a still one.<br><br>She freed her hand from Nic's arm with a tender smile for her escort, then rested it lightly in Adonijah's. His eyes met her eyes of blue and her smile grew all the warmer for it. She inclined her head in response to his words, causing her blond curls to bob slightly, "Oh, I'm sure you won't, Dear," there was some nervous color to the tone of his laughter, but Florence was confident that her own skill in the bedroom would keep either of them from being 'disappointed'.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>22-06-2011, 02:51:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cam stifled a yawn and looked around somewhat bored. He seemed to have been totally forgotten, ignored or passed over by everyone. What point was there in remaining to stay in the lineup? It wasn't as if he was going to be missed and with that thought in mind, he simply backed out of the line and started towards the area where he had left his drawing materials. No words were spoken, after all he wasn't about to draw attention to himself by speaking. He pulled out his sketchbook and his pencil box and then headed for the exit.<br><br>He didn't expect anyone to stop him and wouldn't be surprised if he managed to get out of the room without anyone noticing. Cam had put up with this enough and as it seemed he was probably going to keep being ignored or passed over, what was the point in sticking around? That thought kept revolving around in his mind and he shook his head, letting out a slight sigh. Whatever. He pulled open the door and slipped over the threshold, intending to head outside and draw out in the fresh air, something he could always count on.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>25-06-2011, 18:37:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				If he had not known about the 'man's' odd gender physically he would have taken the nerves displayed to Florence as a sign of yet another unwilling whore. One had been bad enough, if that was what the blond Anel was. Certainly something was wrong there. But it was Florence's choice and she was deft at relaxing people, at getting them to play into her delicate, deadly little hands. He would leave her affairs to her and focus on his own; he had promised money here but he wondered if he would want to return. Perhaps at least once, to get some time with the dark haired beauty who had glided in and taken the drunken Anel away. <br><br>His eyes had stayed half on Atticus once his question was spoken and he found the way that the other man bowed his head, while elegant, made him uncomfortable for the subservience it spoke of. The words made it no better. Nicholas jaw clenched slightly as he repressed a sudden welling of disgust at the tone, the seductive bent of it. <br><br>The artist's thunder grey eyes set on the body guard, lips thinned. "I would prefer if you spoke to me only in your normal voice, as you have before this moment. I have no use for such tricks. It is the visual of you I wished to engage." <br><br>Nic leaned in, lifting Florence's hand that he held and he pressed a kiss to it, "Enjoy yourself sweet lady, I will join you in an hour." The tall Knight let go of her hand then, stepping toward Atticus and gesturing for him to lead the way to whatever room they were to go to. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>26-06-2011, 02:11:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adi gave Florence and Nic a bit of a shy smile, perhaps belying the fact that he he was very much new at this. He seemed slightly more at ease now, however, having somewhat gotten over the initial shock that someone would want to hire him, although he was still a bit worried about how he was going to handle it. <br><br>He wasn't <em>afraid</em>, just unsure - people usually came to whores because whores knew what they were doing, didn't they? Adi certainly had less idea what he was doing than most, especially since he hadn't ever actually know anyone like him who could help explain things. He was by no means entirely innocent, he knew fully well what kind of things Florence may be expecting... he pondered that for a moment. She knew about him, didn't she? He glanced over in the direction that Ryan had left in, chewing on his lower lip a bit nervously for a moment before his eyes returned to the lady before him. <br><br>"... we can head to my room if you like, but I think before we do, I probably should let you know I'm a bit unusual," Adi said to Florence in a bit of a lowered voice. As far as he knew, the other whores all knew about his unique situation, but he still felt a bit uneasy discussing it loud enough for others to hear, and his voice lowered a bit further. "... I mean, physically." It was better to get it out now, than to have a potentially annoyed, disgusted or angry client once he got undressed. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>06-07-2011, 01:22:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The lash of words from the artist was like the flick of a kid hide flogger, soft with the slightest bite. It was nothing at all to the man he had know in the Briars who shunned blades and laid pain with mere words. Just talking. Conversing. Words and words and words that flayed deep into the mind and was so much worse than any whip or blade because he would draw out bits of truth and would hoard them and turn them back, make the memories black as pitch and sharp as glass by just talking. The Mistress’ banker who worked for her for nothing but hours with the whores. <br><br>Three had killed themselves because of that man, Atticus knew. The bite of this artist was toothless in compare. <br><br>It was the easiest thing to laugh and shake his head at the man, lies sliding from him slick as silk. “I beg your pardon, sir, but I’m not a whore as my Master made you aware. I have no tricks. Would you rather me not be eager? I will try to contain my excitement, but I do find this quite a novelty. This way.”<br><br>He turned and led the man up the stairs, not looking at the whores, ice sinking deeper into his mind with each stair. <br><br><hr><br>(To (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98329.msg4888864#msg4888864))
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crystaltears</strong> on <strong>06-07-2011, 18:01:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Florence's attention returned to Nicholas at the tense tone in his voice as he addressed Atticus, eyebrows knit together in slight concern. She wondered more and more if this suggestion of hers had been a mistake. <em>'How wretched will he think me if this goes poorly? And is there not a certain promise of disappointment in the air already?'</em> She wanted to sigh aloud, but she swept the impulse away, instead fixing a gentle smile to her lips when he leaned close and pressed a kiss to her delicate hand. The words he offered to her reassured her some, for his mood was not completely soured... She only hoped Atticus could keep it that way. <br><br>Florence nodded to Nicholas, squeezing the hand with which he had lifted hers, "Of course, Sir Nicholas. I only hope you do as well," the smile she wore reached her blue eyes, bringing a lightness to them that spoke of the friendship she and Nicholas shared. She waited until the knight had released her hand to follow Atticus before returning her attention to Adonijah.<br><br>In the back of her mind she was aware of one of the blonds leaving the line up, and she thought little on it as her playful demeanor crept back into the smile on her lips. The nervous tensions - she was pretty sure that was what it was that caused Adonijah to chew his lip - must have been born of his.. 'peculiar physique'... at least if his words were anything to guess by.<br><br>Florence nodded as Adonijah explained that he was somewhat unusual, her blue eyes as soft as ever. As his voice dropped lower Florence reached her hand out to take his, the playfulness in her smile briefly muted by a look that conveyed understanding. She pitched her voice to match his, lest she be the cause of someone gathered here who was unaware of his circumstances learning what he wasn't ready to share, "I have been informed, Adonijah." Florence's voice, while lowered, carried tones of acceptance, perhaps even approval, of the subject at hand.<br><br>"Shall we?" The lady asked in plain speech, not missing a beat as she waited for Adonijah to offer an arm for her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>19-07-2011, 04:55:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adi breathed out in a quiet sigh of relief when Florence seemed to be on the same page as he was - and she didn't appear to be disgusted or put-off. He beamed a smile at her and without missing a beat, offered the woman his arm, immediately feeling more at ease, even though he still had some lingering anxiety in the back of his mind. Florence didn't seem to mind him, and so, he wasn't going to be worried about that - there was plenty of other things to worry about, such as, whether or not he'd be any good at this.<br><br>"I'll show you to my room, then," He said, giving Florence a somewhat shy smile before looking up the staircase. His room seemed a lot closer than usual as he was guiding her up the stairs towards it, it made him feel like he didn't have much time to gather his thoughts. He almost walked past his door entirely, blushing a bit as he had to stop suddenly and backtrack a couple of steps, offering Florence a murmured "Sorry, my mind is all over the place tonight," as he opened the door, holding it for her like a gentleman. <br><br>"Please come in and make yourself at home."<br><br><em>Continue to Adi's room.</em> (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=99402.0)
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alsheriam</strong> on <strong>20-07-2011, 08:43:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It had taken him half a day to find the place. Colonel Flashman, a merchant by trade did not spend much time in the capital. Indeed, most of his years were spent at the coastal harbor city from whence he operated his business. But those days were long over. The royalty had personally pinned an Iron Cross on his chest - one of those decorations reserved for valor on the battlefield, and he'd rather not have to wear it in public. Neither did he willingly carry out the action that earned him this bit of tin and ribbon, for after all, who in their right mind would charge on horseback head-on into a battery of artillery? The pompous twit, Lord Cardigan thought that it was a good idea to order the charge and sit far back on the rear echelons whilst he watched his Light Brigade get ripped to shreds by the artillery. <br><br>But that was a part of history now, and so was Flashman. Deemed too valuable and famous to sacrifice in the field, the other aristocratic poofs decided to use the Colonel's decoration as a recruitment tool for more eager young men to die for that same bit of tin and ribbon. <br><br>Dressed in his freshly-pressed dress uniform with cane in hand, the Colonel struck a sharp, imposing figure coupled with a ice-cold steely glare and grimly-clenched angular jaw. While not at all pretty, pale and florid as was the fashion in the capital in recent years, Flashman was a darkly-tanned, and well-built man to show for his years spent in the harsh jungles and desert of the frontier, and his rugged, and even gruff disposition composed a rough handsomeness of its own. The heavily-burnished Iron Cross shone brightly on his chest, and Flashman wore it more like a burden than a matter of glory when he walked through the doors to enter the lobby of the famed Teahouse, tapping his cane repeatedly on his floor whilst waiting to be greeted by the help.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>20-07-2011, 09:12:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee glanced up from her log book knowing anyone and anything could walk through the door wanting a few rolls in the hay. For her, she needed to make sure there were whores to go around and someone to spend their last dollar for a kiss of their lips. She wondered if any of the whores made emotionally investments in the regular John's or if they made sure to keep a quiet distance all the while giving their bodies to the paying customers. Too many questions on her mind but right now she needed to know if the man waiting for a whore had the money to spend such time in the establishment. Rubee could see the man came from wealth unless he managed to pick up a grand costume from the shop around the corner. She was tempted a few times to buy herself a pea coat and walk around like the Duchess of York but knew better than to use her money on frivolous items. For one, she needed to pay her way and keep herself from dying of hunger.<br><br>Right now, she wondered what kind of carnal hunger this new gentleman wanted in the Teahouse. Would he want a red head with spitfire? Or a demure brunette with dark skin? Perhaps even a young lad who looked ready to break beneath his strong hands. Rubee pondered such things as she nodded to a servant to bring the man a cup of tea and a tumbler of whiskey. He would get to choose his drink but Rubee leaned towards something more burning of the heart. It reminded her too much of her Santiago and his drinking habits. However, if a client could drink, it would aid more in opening up his wallet to spend as much as he could here at the Teahouse. More money to the Master and more money to take with her back to her room here in the Teahouse. She might even be tempted to buy the pea coat after all. "Welcome to the Teahouse. My name is Rubee and what can we do here at the Teahouse to make you feel welcomed?," she asked, wondering if anyone else would appear through the door, like the messenger for example.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alsheriam</strong> on <strong>20-07-2011, 09:55:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Good afternoon," Boomed Colonel Flashman's basso voice, doffing off his hat at the presence of the lady. To the Colonel it was a genuine shock and surprise that she paid no heed to the medal at first glance.. and indeed this may be the unique establishment that his colleagues told him about. Perusing the offered tea and whiskey for a moment, his gaze lifted back to the lady's eyes and continued.<br><br>"I would very much like some Blue Label scotch, if you please. Black may do just as well if you have none of that." <br><br>His manner of speech was hardly presumptuous nor very gentlemanly, though he was dressed like one of the aristocratic officer class. Plucking off his leather gloves finger by finger, the more he spoke the more he sounded typically middle-class. When his hands were removed they were shown to be heavily-calloused from years of handling weapons and the like, though to any casual observer one may presume that he was a mere laborer.<br><br>Flashman considered the setting of the establishment for a moment then, deeming it to his satisfaction and appeared as if he was looking for something.. or even someone in particular. Settling his field of view upon the hostess once more his hand was extended to her with military precision.<br><br>"Ah, but where have my manners fled to? Colonel Flashman, m'lady. Ninth Hussars."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>20-07-2011, 21:35:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee took his hand considering it an insult to wave away the hand of someone especially a possible new client. The Teahouse could always use a few new clients to add to the roster. Now she needed to nab a few whores to come downstairs to the line up but everyone seemed to be in their own world. Her eyes looked around the room and she could see a few whores but her eyes caught onto Cameron who looked to be sneaking away. Why would Cameron be sneaking off? The potential for a new client was grand and she doubted Cameron wanted to be scrimping and saving to buy himself something to eat. Plus, the Master might not be open to having a whore who did not make a lot of money for the household. "Cameron," she called out, and made a motion with her hand to bring him towards the new client and herself. Rubee wondered if the new client would be interested in a fair head whore and try to figure out what he might like from the line up.<br><br>"This is Cameron, one of the workers here int he Teahouse. Now, what could it be you would want from the Teahouse," she asked, nodding to the other servant who brought over the scotch over to the client.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alsheriam</strong> on <strong>20-07-2011, 23:11:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Cameron?"<br><br>The Colonel made the polite show of inspecting the presented whore carefully, showing no sign of either interest or disinterest. His hostess had made the fair effort of displaying this particular one to him but alas, Cameron was not to his tastes. Muttering a word of thanks under his breath to the servant who brought his scotch, he quaffed its contents whole and appeared to be considering the body and subtleties of his scotch more than the whore himself.<br><br>"A most interesting specimen, Rubee, but alas he is not what I am looking for."<br><br>Placing the now-emptied glass to the side, with the manner of his eyes also carefully studying the curves on Rubee's person it may seem that he was more interested in his hostess than Cameron, but he'd proceed with his goal of the day.<br><br>"In fact, your delightful establishment came highly recommended by my peers because of one particular lady by the name of 'Zara'. Is she available at this time?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>21-07-2011, 01:20:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Someone had noticed him when he had tried to sneak out? Cameron was actually quite shocked, considering no one had noticed him when he had been there. None of them had even given him a greeting and it was kind of getting to him that the clients were always passing him over. Not because he wanted to have sex with them but due to the fact that they were wasting his time by calling a line-up when it was obvious no one was going to pick him. Perhaps it was heat that was getting to him but he was becoming annoyed.<br><br>Of course people had certain tastes but why couldn't they give them at the door? Cameron wasn't really thinking straight anymore, he just wanted to either be left alone or obtain a client and make some money. Neither seemed to be available to him and that pissed him off more than anything else. He made a face as Rubee called him back and returned rather reluctantly as he let his eyes flicker over the client. No, this one wouldn't want him, he could tell almost instantly. There was a certain look in a client's eyes at a line-up.<br><br>That look was one of lust or interest and this particular man didn't have it. But still, he could be polite about it since it wasn't the customer's fault that he didn't like him. Well technically it was but Cameron wasn't going to think too much about that. "A pleasure to have you in the Teahouse. Might I be of some service?" He inquired and wasn't surprised when the man turned him down. Cameron continued to try and smile as he was dismissed from the client's view and his hands clenched at his sides. Breathe, he reminded himself.<br><br>Zara. How ironic, especially since she had been complaining to him about how she hadn't had clients in a long time earlier. Cameron hadn't had one client in all his short time here. At first it hadn't bothered him but now as the days kept passing, it was becoming a problem. Not just for the money but to his pride. What was wrong with him? Why was he not getting a single client? The thought of being kicked out of the Teahouse wasn't an issue for him but he didn't want to get kicked out before he'd had at least one client. Really.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>21-07-2011, 02:13:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee looked ready to smack Cameron's annoyed face right off his head. He should be thankful her rage from earlier had dispersed as soon as Anel flounced away with Zara. She could only hope Zara managed to calm down the little child before throwing him back into the line up for the future clients. Rubee could see Cameron was upset but there was no time for hurt feelings here in the Teahouse. Money was to be made and passed around from client to whore, to her and then to the Master before dispersing it back into wages. If he fucked up the line up, she was going to choke the life from his eyes but bring him back before the moment of death. It was a style Santiago had to use on a man who had given them the wrong amount of money. However, Santiago should have murdered the man for it was the same man who...Rubee cut off such thoughts before she was sucked back into the past. What she needed to do was stay in the present and on point with the situation.<br><br>"Cameron is young, nubile, and has the ability to keep up in stamina." It almost felt as if she was reading off a list of ingredients but it always helped to push the fact Cameron could keep up with the client. There were a few who rented out whores for a few hours even days at a time. She remembered a former whore who ached for a week with complaints of a bruise ass and their legs feeling as if she had ridden a horse for a month. <em>I know what type of horse the whore was riding</em>, Rubee thought to herself amusingly while she waited for the client to make his choice of whether he wanted Cameron or not. She was ready to show him the way to the Master to negotiate price and hour needed to have Cameron around. However, when he dismissed Cameron, she did feel some sympathy for Cameron and wondered if Zara was around to treat to the client. "I am sure Zara is around and I can have a servant double check in case she is entertaining another guest," she smiled, all the while keeping an eye for Cameron not to lose face at not being chosen.<br><br>No need to let him in on the dramatics which happened earlier or Zara off trying to help Anel come down from his hysterics. "I can have a servant take out to the billiard room to enjoy some more scotch while I retrieve information of Zara." Rubee motioned for the servant to bring the rest of the alcohol for the client to drink and enjoy knowing his drinks would be added to his tab whenever he chose Zara or someone else at the Teahouse. Visibly seeing the discomfort Cameron hand, Rubee reached out to stroke Cameron's back as a gesture to keep him calm and remind him that appearances is what made or break a reputation in the Teahouse. Tonight was not his night but there would be a client who would have use of him. "A servant will be by to show you the way," she said, and looked as thankfully a servant came by to attend to his drinking needs. As for Cameron, she made a motion with her head for him to follow her and leave the client at peace with his own decision.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>21-07-2011, 04:15:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Looking annoyed had not been his intention and if Cameron had known his inner feelings were showing outwardly he would have been ashamed of himself. Fortunately, the expression had only been present for the first few seconds and when he faced the potential client he showed no sign of reluctance or annoyance. After all, there was always the possibility that he <em>would</em> be chosen, however unlikely that might be. But of course he was not chosen again and an almost inaudible sigh left his lips as he moved away.<br><br>But he was faintly surprised that Rubee had known so much about him. He hadn't thought anyone paid that much attention to him other than that other whore whose name he had completely forgotten. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen her around lately and wondered if she was getting any business. He would have sought after Zara to see how she was doing had this client not asked for her but now he had no reason to see the lucky whore. Cameron dug his fingers into his palm as he continued to smile at the client.<br><br>He would remain polite and courteous to him because he was still a client. There was no need for Rubee to remind him of that, he knew quite well to uphold the Teahouse's reputation. Anel had caused such a disturbance earlier that Cameron was sure it had left a bad impression in front of the other guests. He had no intention to add to that. But still, remaining in the room after he had been dismissed so abruptly was a serious downer and now that the anger had passed, Cameron simply felt depressed about his situation.<br><br>As Rubee directed her attention at the other male in the room, Cameron started to turn around to walk out of the room. It was obvious he wasn't needed here any longer and there was no point in remaining here. But he stopped again when Rubee tilted her head in another direction, implying that she wanted to talk to him. What the hell, it wasn't as if he had anywhere he needed to go. He followed her out of the room, wondering what it was she wanted to talk to him about. He hoped it wasn't a lecture on how he needed clients.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alsheriam</strong> on <strong>21-07-2011, 04:18:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Colonel Flashman nodded quietly, not at all betraying any expression that displayed any form of disapproval nor disgust. In truth, he felt nothing for the dejected whore, save for perhaps a hint of pity. He made a mental note to include a generous tip for the male whore Cameron at the end of the night, and adjourned to the billiards room as directed by one of the fine establishment's servants.<br><br>He hardly had any cause for complaint as he was guided in, taking a fresh glass of scotch, taking note of the painstaking effort made in hospitality and making him feel comfortable. Sitting upright, back straight now on a sofa he left his cane leaning casually against his armrest, as he produced a cigarette and pursed it betwixt his lips, leaning forward with an expectant air as the servant dutifully placed the lighter before him. Now that he was puffing away placidly and was gracious enough to murmur a word of thanks, and displaying his gratitude with a quick placement of currency upon the servant's palm, he was dismissed without a word, happy for now to remain in peace whilst he awaits the lady named Zara.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>21-07-2011, 04:40:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">From Outside. (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98856.msg4955732#msg4955732)<br><br>The instant her eyes locked on a servant, Zara couldn't help the cruel smile that played along her lips. She hated that fact that she could still taste Fiona on her lips; she wished the little bitch would disappear somewhere. She had completely ruined her after-sex mood!! Just as the thought appeared, she saw a glimpse of Fiona dashing upstairs. She almost followed her....almost. Zara would torment the little pearl later on, but for now...she wanted to mope!<br><br>The entire day had been ruined and now she would have to start all over again, "Fetch me something to drink. Quickly." When the servant hesitated, Zara snapped, "Do not make me repeat myself again. It will NOT end well for you."<br><br>She was glad everyone had left the ground floor; the clients that had been here earlier had been taken care of, Anel had spoken to Master Ryan...and she knew just what would soothe her aching soul once more.<br><br>Her hand caressed the piano, and it was then that Zara remember the cut on the palm of her hand. She wished she had been able to burn it, it would have been a much more fitting way to heal the wound. Sitting down, Zara lightly ran her fingertips along the keys before she began to play a slow tune, her eyes falling shut as she left the Teahouse and allowed her body to become comforted by the inner darkness of her mind.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alsheriam</strong> on <strong>21-07-2011, 04:51:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It appeared that Flashman was drifting away in his own world, tapping the cigarette out to its end at the butt and abandoned it carelessly on the ashtray. With his glass of scotch drained and feeling rather sated for now, he was quite prepared to leave for the waiting was simply taking too long. With a quick rising to his feet, a prompt patting down on his shirt to rid himself of any errant bits of ash he clutched his cane once again, peering about the billiards room before returning to the main lobby.<br><br>But what was to stop the client from leaving? Flashman already was figuring out the sum he was willing to pay Rubee before making his way for home, and the gentle, haunting tune that originated from the piano of the grand lobby stopped him in his tracks. At this point, his present goal of waiting after Zara fled from his mind and instead stood in the middle of the lobby to observe her with focused care.<br><br>Feeling himself drawn closer, and ever closer still towards the performer his foot drew forward, one by one, step by step till he was standing within a hair's breadth behind the mystery performer, keeping his silence in due respect for her. Despite the bluff, stoic expression that was demanded of one who carried that ridiculous bit of tinware on his chest the dark, haunting tune resonated with the pain that echoed within his being, feeling as if he was swaying to the notes produced by her fingers even if he swore that he was standing as still as he could at a parade.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>21-07-2011, 05:08:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Once she was sure the client Flashman would be comfortable by the drinks and the cigars thrown his way while he waited for Zara, Rubee walked alongside with Cameron. "There are things in this household you have to get used to quickly, Cameron. No one here is going to hold your hand right out of the gate. If you want to make money in this establishment you must not let rejection show in your face and you need to be more aggressive in your selling tactics." She might not be a whore but Rubee knew ways to sell certain items to the masses. When she helped Santiago, she had to be cut throat and almost like a shark looking for fresh blood in the water. For Cameron, he needed to grow a pair and be more aware of how to sell the better parts of himself to the client while withholding items such as his expressive features from getting in the way of a new client. His expressive features were better suited in showing the pleasure of being taken by a client than being upset over not being picked from the line up.<br><br>"You need to have a stronger back bone if you want to work in this place. People will say the worst things to each other. You saw my own reaction to that...thing Anel," she answered, a slight sneer appearing on her lips before wiping it away to keep an eye on the other individuals in the room. She was going to wring the neck of the messenger and have his ass fired before the end of today. "Look, all you need to do is try to get a client who wants certain needs from you. Try to pick out those who you think enjoys the company of other men. I believe within a few moments you can see whether the client wants you or someone else. If they choose someone else, at least learn from it and even read some books on pleasing someone in the bedroom. You do know your way around a human body, Cameron?," Rubee asked before her attention went towards a frantic servant who walked up to her. The way the servants were being spooked, it would be quick work to hire new ones to replace the jittery old ones.<br><br>"Miss Zara is playing the piano and you said to...come in case she appears." Rubee nodded, telling the servant to continue with their duties. "Cameron, you can wait here. I merely have to introduce Zara to the new client Colonel Flashman. Try not to pout too much," she went for light humor and hoped he would not show his discomfort right on his face. She held up a finger to showcase for him to stay before making the short strides to follow the directions and listening to the notes of the piano as Zara made good use of the black machine in the lobby. Rubee should have realized Zara's presence but her focus was on trying to get Cameron to listen to wise words ignored the surroundings around her. Rubee needed to be careful unless she wanted someone to take her unawares. At least the music of Zara's playing brought the Colonel Flashman over which would make quick work of introducing the two and letting them head over to Master Ryan to negotiate terms. <br><br>Clearing her throat loudly, Rubee nodded to Colonel Flashman before turning to look at Zara. There was an air around Zara and she could only predict the outcome would not be in her favor. She had to deal with Anel but at least with Zara, there were ways to keep another verbal argument from happening in front of a client. "Zara, this is Colonel Flashman. Colonel, this is the lovely and talented Zara who you were recommended to highly by your friends," she announced, hoping the ego stroking would keep both parties from reacting harshly to the interruptions. "I am sure Master Ryan is in his office and would welcome negotiations for Zara's wonderful company." Rubee had to try to keep on a bright face and not show off that anything was wrong in the Teahouse. Appearances were everything in this place.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>21-07-2011, 05:29:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">The music poured out of her like it often did; relaxing her body and controlling her mind in a way that not even she was able to. She was almost certain that the tune that she was expressing would be about what happened in the Gazebo between her and Fiona. Or at least what had transpired between her and Atticus. But no...the images flashing in her mind were of Anel. The whore who had been taken advantage of and forced to enjoy something that his mind had not craved. The music was moody, it spoke of sadness and of brokenness, and she wasn't able to stop the feelings that came out of her.<br><br>Until Rubee cleared her throat and snapped her out of her mental anguish.<br><br>Zara's head jerked up and the look of anger that flashed within her eyes spoke volumes. Thankfully, Rubee knew just how to handle Zara's ruffled feathers because the woman quickly launched into what she interrupted the whore for. At the mention of a new client&nbsp; -- who had asked for her -- Zara relaxed her features and took one look at the man next to her. Her hazel eyes captured the metal gleaming on his chest but she did not say anything. Interesting. A Captain earlier in the day...and now a Colonel. Zara moved slowly, raising herself up from the piano bench and bowing her head respectfully. She had never seen him before, and that she could remember, she hadn't taken care of many men who served but then again...Zara often did not pay attention to what they had on. She only cared about what was under. Slowly raising her head, she flashed him a slow and soft smile, her voice soft and husky, "Colonel Flashman, what an absolute delight to meet you."<br><br>She paused and looked at Rubee, her eyes cooling for a second as she said quietly, "Rubee, Colonel Flashman will have his meeting with Master Ryan after he...spends time with me." She turned to the Colonel and laughed softly, her laughter seductive as she lowered her gaze in a clear submissive fashion, "I do hope that you do not mind speaking to the Master of the Teahouse afterwards. If I have kept you waiting then it was terribly rude of me and I should entertain you immediately." She paused for a second, and then turned to look at Rubee, her eyes questioning, "Is it acceptable for Colonel Flashman and I to go to my room?" The question was not one of permission; Zara was asking Rubee if her sheets had been changed and her room had been cleaned of the previous client. There was no way in hell she was going to invite a new client into her room when it still smelled of sex and had wax and blood littering the bedsheets.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>21-07-2011, 05:47:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee was correct about Zara being annoyed at the interruption of her solitude. <em>Too fucking bad, but you are here to work</em>, Rubee thought to herself before nodding at speaking and letting Master Ryan know of Colonel Flashman being given his company with Zara. At least she could not fault the way Zara made great work of pleasing the Colonel and easing his troubles of having to wait forever for her appearance. He looked like he might end up eating out of the palm of Zara's hand. To see that look was always a clincher in keeping a client from walking out because they were asked to wait far too long for their patience. The Teahouse never wanted an unsatisfied customer to walk out of the establishment. For one, the displeasure of one customer could easily turn into more if the first went on to talk about the horrible manners and wait times given to them by the house. With that, the Teahouse could easily lose business and she would be without a job.<br><br><em>"Is it acceptable for Colonel Flashman and I to go to my room?"</em> Oh Rubee knew this was not for her to decide. Zara could have taken Colonel Flashman and walked her ass right up the stairs and into her room. Rubee narrowed her eyes and knew what it might be Zara wanted to know. She remembered a client was in her room earlier though the name of the client somehow eluded being seen by her. However, she knew what Zara might want to know. It was not her damn job to know whether Zara's room was ready to be enjoyed by the clients and Zara. She was no maid but Rubee there was the potential to bring in a lot of money with the Colonel. Rubee could only guess the amount of money the Colonel had stored away from his expeditions into war and the money acquired now that it seemed he wanted to spend at the Teahouse. For that, Rubee, kept her opinion of what Zara could do with her attitude and instead threw on a beaming smile. <br><br>A passing servant came by and Rubee the male over to her. "Make sure there is a bottle of scotch and some cigars placed into Zara's room for Colonel Flashman and leave some boxes of chocolate. Make sure all is well," she noted to the servant but she could very well bet the servants had already cleaned up Zara's room earlier. Rubee wanted to double check all the while smooth things over to Colonel for having to wait around for Zara. Perhaps Zara would make him happy enough to forget all about wanting and drinking for her to show up any minute. "Zara, it is acceptable and I hope Colonel Flashmen feels at home with you as his company." There were her own warnings to Zara to keep Colonel happy as can be considering he could very well end up being another regular for Zara. Who knows, the Colonel might even shower diamonds and dresses upon her knowing a few of the whores could use a bit of shopping or even mending their outfits for a client. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alsheriam</strong> on <strong>21-07-2011, 16:19:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"Colonel Flashman, what an absolute delight to meet you."</em><br><br>He did not suspect it, but this Zara was quite the delight to behold. Even if she was not the ideal sort of his colleagues' who spoke often of bright, twirly blonde locks, heavy bust and snow-white creamy skin, the Colonel never found it in his heart to fancy those sort. Oftentimes they were simpering little chits who knew little beyond faking shrill little moans and reached their own orgasms all too soon. He knew better of just the sort of woman he wanted, and during his expeditions there were plenty of native women who slipped into his tent that proved themselves to be simply <em>better</em> women than the sort always found in the capital.<br><br>Pressing his icy, steely gaze upon her hazel, smoking eyes momentarily, it was enough to give the typical enlisted man the jitters on the parade square. With the brief test promptly applied his response was one filled with decorum.<br><br>"Capital, your ladyship. Most capital. A distinct pleasure to meet you, I'm sure."<br><br>Reaching down for Zara's hand, it was an opportunity to sample her skin and just how well she kept it. The first impressions of what she'd feel was the heavy callousing of his palm that slid over her fingers like sandpaper. Despite his stoic disposition the grasp was most delicate, lifting it to his lips to brush her fingers against them whilst preserving eye contact without even straying to her bosom.<br><br>What followed later only seemed to amuse the Colonel to no end. If it sounded like mere polite conversation betwixt hostess and whore, he knew that it was anything but. Given the pointedness of their words and perceptible changes in the ways they held themselves, they might as well unleash a rapier each and clash their blades endlessly with each other. It was evident to him that it was the whore who prevailed, and thought more of Zara than before. <br><br><em>"Make sure there is a bottle of scotch and some cigars placed into Zara's room for Colonel Flashman and leave some boxes of chocolate. Make sure all is well,"</em><br><br>Quirking a single brow at the instruction given to the passing servant, he thought that it was hardly considerate to expect a lady in his company to drink scotch, immediately speaking up with a polite smile.<br><br>"Ahh, beg pardon, Rubee, but would you be obliged to provide a bottle of claret instead?"<br><br>With a gentle narrowing of his eyes that brooked no argument, the Colonel lightly brushed his fingertips against her arm with his free hand and allowed a perceptible curve of his lips to Zara. <br><br>"Now then.. shall we? And oh, you may call me, Harry."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>21-07-2011, 17:27:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				If left to his own devices, Cameron would have recovered from that bout of depression within a few minutes. He didn't have time to pout over spilt milk, there were other things that required his attention such as trying to get a client in a different way. After all, he had a bill to pay and had sworn he would do so and he never went back on his word. He would rather die instead of fail in what he had said he would do. But getting someone to pick him willingly was harder than before he had come here. A lot harder than before.<br><br>He was used to simply threatening others to do what he wanted or taking it from them if he desired it. But here he'd found he couldn't do that because the Teahouse had certain rules prohibiting the sort of things he was used to doing. It made things inconvenient for him since he had no experience in that related field. Be nice? How? What else could he do other than what he had been doing up until now? He raised a brow when Rubee spoke to him about 'having his hand held' and almost chuckled at the mere thought of that.<br><br>"Trust me, having my hand held is the last thing I'd want to have happen here. Or for that matter, anywhere." Cameron replied to her and frowned when she spoke of not letting rejection show on his face. What was she talking about? Had he seriously let that happen? He felt somewhat shocked at the revelation and shook his head, raising a hand to scratch his forehead. "I wasn't aware I was showing such emotion. It won't happen again." The white haired man said, a bit embarrassed at his unintended display of emotion here.<br><br>How could he have let such a thing happen? He was usually in better control of his emotions. Perhaps the heat had simply gotten to him and messed with his mind, causing him to not think straight. Cameron shook his head when Rubee spoke of being more aggressive in his selling tactics. "But what if I scare away the customers? I thought the point was to be polite and courteous to show the nature of the Teahouse. Yes, flirting would be nice but I don't really have that much experience there. Nor am I familiar with holding back."<br><br>He had just opened up a bit to Rubee and wondered how she would react. Cameron nodded when she told him he needed a stronger back bone if he wanted to work here. Well, he had no issue with that but if it got him into trouble there would be hell to pay. Literally. He would have to find out another way to make some large amounts of money in a short period of time. Truthfully, he didn't give a damn about any of the whores here, they could say whatever they wanted about him and it wouldn't bother him that much at all.<br><br>But the clients were different. If they kept rejecting him, he was going to be in trouble. But if he pushed too hard, they might protest and that was also detrimental. "I will see what I can do when the next client arrives." Cameron told her and waited for Rubee to return to the room she had left him in as he went to where he had stashed his art supplies. Pulling them out, he went over to the table and started to sketch to pass the time. Thinking of the latest client, he started to draw him. He had a good memory for people.<br><br>They were easy to draw and came out well most of the time. Once he was done with the man, he started on a portrait of Rubee herself and continued to sketch the outline of the woman, filling in things here and there to add mystery and the allure of beauty that the female possessed. Cameron was so focused that he began to lose time.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>21-07-2011, 23:27:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">She almost laughed when he changed the liquor from scotch to claret. There was no way she was going to be touching that; Zara preferred the type of drink that would bring tears to a man's eyes. But...this John certainly did not need to know that. She smiled and made sure to lower her eyes once more in gentle submission, her eyes running down his frame discretely at the same time as she lowered her gaze.<br><br>She hadn't missed the feel of the calloused fingers that had gripped hers, and she shivered in anticipation, the thought of having them skimming along her back...or inside of her...leaving her a bit breathless. She was so very thankful for this distraction; it would surely send all of her thoughts on Fiona and Atticus right out the window. And it would exhaust her to the point of the Teahouse possibly not seeing her again for the rest of the evening.<br><br>She took a step closer to the Colonel and placed her hand on his arm, squeezing it gently as her eyes raised up to stare into his. She tilted her head slightly as she asked softly, "Now then...Harry. Why don't we go to my room where it will be a bit more...private?" Turning slowly, Zara's hips swayed as she led the way towards the stairs, the black corset dress clinging to each curve of her body. As she walked, she turned her head to speak to her client, "I hope you don't mind if I take a few moments to slip into something more comfortable? I fear you caught me while I was taking a small break."<br><br>Her laughed trickled down the stairs as she rounded the corner and took Colonel Flashman down the hallway to her bedroom.<br><br>(Continued in Zara's room (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98328.msg4959129#msg4959129))</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>22-07-2011, 00:10:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee merely smiled at the change in liquor knowing the Colonel would know soon enough that Zara could handle the stronger drinks. The man would surely need the drinks and the chocolate to keep his stamina up and going in order to keep up with Zara. Rubee only knew some of the rumors of what the female could bring to the Teahouse table. Considering a lot of her clients were regulars and unofficially she was in the top five money-making whores of the Teahouse, Zara did have some right to have her ego stroked. Nonetheless, she merely smiled as the watched the two of them head up the stairs to her bedroom before making her way back to Cameron. She wondered if Cameron would take her word or at least take some pointers from mere advice and use it to obtain a few clients in the Teahouse. Rubee doubted Master Ryan would run him off but he might have his wages lowered and his clients that would pay less for a few minutes of his time than spend a large amount of money.<br><br>"What are you doing, Cameron?," Rubee asked, curiously as she returned to her post in the Teahouse. She thought Cameron would try to slink away after his own comments to her advice. Cameron had a way about slinking in and out of places but Rubee knew when individuals just needed a nice dose of advice, whether they wanted it or not. For Rubee, she could see Cameron was not as vicious and hungry as the others to make their money and live with their lives. Rubee wondered what his story was with coming to the Teahouse. She knew her own story and hoped not a lot of people figured out where she came from or her little ball of gene waddling around in a baby dress. "Is that supposed to be me?," she asked, pointing at the portrait and then looking over to Cameron for confirmation. Now there was something to learn about a whore each day. Why did Cameron not parlay his sketching into a career as an artist? Then again, an artist's life usually ended up with alcohol and a poor life.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>22-07-2011, 00:40:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				No, Rubee's eyes should be more developed than what he had on paper right now. He erased a tiny bit and the worked in the slant a bit more, focusing on his memory of the woman. Cameron tensed, his hand going to his hip almost instantly on reflex. But this time there were no knives there for him to pull out and he grimaced. Due to being so caught up in sketching he had completely forgotten where he currently was placed. He was in the Teahouse, not out on the streets or hanging around with his beloved gang back at home.<br><br>He cleared his throat. "Nothing much, just passing the time while I waited for you to return." Cameron told her, not lying about anything since it wasn't his style to do so. He put his utensils back in their slim holder and closed the sketchbook as he looked up at her. "Yes, I like to draw people and your body is one of the most fascinating ones I've seen in a long time." Cameron said with a smile, letting his eyes flicker over her form almost subconsciously as he tried to pick out if he had done anything wrong with the picture below.<br><br>The white haired male stood as he tucked his sketchbook under one arm and placed the slim container into a pocket. "So did the client meet up with Zara?" He asked, wanting to know if the man had been satisfied. Despite his annoyance at not being chosen, he still wanted to make sure the guests were content with their purchase.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>23-07-2011, 05:31:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You really should parlay it into being an artist while you are also working here at the Teahouse. I bet you can get a few of the whores to throw some money your way to draw a portrait of them or make smaller ones as tokens to give to out to their satisfied clients." Rubee presumed a few of the clients might want someone to remember the Teahouse by or to even have when the touch of a whore was long gone from their skin. She knew a few sailors came into the Teahouse whenever the boats docked and remembered five of them all figuring out how to get as many whores as possible with the little bit of money they had in their pockets. Regrettably, only two were able to have one whore to share between them while the others spent their money on alcohol to drink away their losses. Nonetheless, she saw the sailors coming back on a regular basis and if she looked at her ledger, it was only a few more weeks until more clients started to show up to engage once more in carnal pleasures.<br><br>At Cameron's words, Rubee looked down at herself knowing she had not tried to dress to attract clients. She had dressed for comfort and for professionalism. Rubee wondered just what Cameron was looking at for him to think her body was "fascinating" to him. "Yes, and I believe the two will be together in her room for a while. Since it looks as if the clients might start rolling in, why not keep me company here at the desk? You might even get a chance to see any new clients before the others since they seem to be in their own worlds." She wondered if Master Ryan would call on her to ask how the bidding was going for Anel. The messenger was utterly late with his reply and she was about to see to Master Ryan about the disappearance of the messenger. He would not be pleased if the bidders were waiting for a long time and grew angry over being told to wait more than necessary to find out if Anel would be given to them for his first time.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>23-07-2011, 17:08:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cameron had an eye for detail and although clothing might obscure the body most of the time, there was always a little window of opportunity for those who were patient. He had seen her womanly curves amongst other things at random intervals throughout the past week. No one could avoid a fresh breeze now and then when it was extremely hot whether it be from inside or outside and when you had such pressure on you, clothing tended to press against your body. It might only be for a few seconds but he had seen them.<br><br>That was all that mattered, wasn't it? He never forgot what a person looked like once he saw them. Perhaps it was a skill of his and he had always appreciated it since it allowed him to do what he liked doing in his free time. He had never once considered making a living off of it and blinked at Rubee's suggestion. "I never thought of that. I didn't think my drawings were that good. I only do it for fun." Cameron admitted and let his eyes linger on the woman for a moment. She was nicer than some of the others here.<br><br>But why was that? "Would you like me to draw all the whores in the Teahouse? You could present them to clients at the door and show them what the place has to offer." He suggested, thinking the idea quite good. It would help expedite matters and then if a client wanted a certain whore he could tell them at the door and if he chose someone from the portraits, a line-up wouldn't be necessary. It would make things easier for the Teahouse and the clients themselves and of course they could always choose to have a line-up.<br><br>He nodded when Rubee asked if he wanted to keep her company at the desk. "Sure. I can work on the drawings here." Cameron said with a smile and settled himself next to her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>24-07-2011, 07:04:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Did Cameron doubt his talent with the pencil? From what she could see, it seemed he had a good grasp of the lines of the person's body and she had to wonder if Cameron was more than a light headed whore than she assumed of everyone in the Teahouse; with the exception of Atticus and Master Ryan, but now seeing the shading and lines, Rubee could see Cameron had talent. Why did he not use it when it came to attracting the clients? He could have drawn the client in dress or maybe out of dress to take with them to remember their experience. "I can talk to Master Ryan later tonight and let him know about the idea with the pin up drawings of the whores. Of course, each of the whore would have to sit or lay down for the rendition to paper. How long does it usually take you to draw a person with clothing and without?," she asked, curious about how many of the whores would be open to having themselves drawn for Cameron.<br><br>"In fact, if you drew an example, I am sure Master Ryan would be more open to such ideas rather than giving him a vague idea to paint in his mind. If you give him a drawing and present it with some flourish, he might use it to sell more items out of the Teahouse. I forget what they are called, but I think they are "erotic post cards?" I have seen a few of them overseas and once in a very disparaging brothel run by a madame who looked more like a haggard old witch than someone who should be selling carnal pleasure to clients." Then again, the clients who went to the foul brothel were not of the gentlemanly types and a few were known criminals. Thankfully, Rubee only came by the Brothel in search of work that did not include using her body as a means to pay her way. When the Madame had nothing for her but that, Rubee went on her way and found Master Ryan's place a few weeks later. Sometimes it was called Fate the things worked out for people. <br><br>Sitting herself back at her desk, Rubee smiled at Cameron and went back to looking over the log books for the day. A few clients would come by but she wondered if any would want Cameron for their own pleasure. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>31-07-2011, 20:35:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cameron nodded when Rubee spoke of talking to Master Ryan later on that night about his idea regarding the portraits. He thought about her question for a few moments and let his mind's eye think about how long it usually took. The truth was he had never actually considered the time period since he only ever did it for fun and tended to get lost in the moment while drawing or sketching others. "I'd say without clothing would take the shortest period of time since I don't have to sketch in their clothing or accessories." He said.<br><br>"So, around thirty minutes for naked drawings and anywhere from forty-five to an hour for clothed drawings. I like to make them perfect." Cameron said with a smile. He could do a relatively good sketch of a person within fifteen minutes but he was never satisfied with those. "Do you have any particular whore in mind that you'd like me to draw to present to him?" He asked, looking over at Rubee and thought about her words about the erotic post cards. "So, should I draw one of those exotic post cards or an actual full sketch?"<br><br>He wasn't sure which one Rubee was suggesting he present to Master Ryan. But he didn't want to go too far and seem strange because that would just seem weird, at least to him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>undisclosedtoyou</strong> on <strong>23-08-2011, 10:00:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center">(http://i1137.photobucket.com/albums/n520/undisclosed2you/Clip%20Art/1313727097122522234548558.png) (http://i1137.photobucket.com/albums/n520/undisclosed2you/E%20char%20pics/131372709712252974867050.jpg)</div><br><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">The smell of freshly baked sponge cake, and sweet jam filled the steamy kitchen, as Emma took special care in assembling tea for every inhabitant, not currently occupied, that lived under the Teahouses roof.&nbsp; It was probably such a small thing, when viewed through the eyes of the 'upstairs,' but to the curly haired blond, it was an art form in and of itself.&nbsp; Most of her day's were spent coordinating the staff, overseeing the various servants, checking, and than rechecking everything again, all so that the Teahouse ran smoothly.&nbsp; But preparing the tea time refreshments was a task that was all hers, and because of this she worked extra hard to make it as perfectly as she possibly could.&nbsp; From the loose leaves being brewed for tea, to the cakes, and finger foods presented for consumption.&nbsp; She made sure that no detail was left out, and today, was definitely no exception.<br><br>She made quick work of studying each piece of silver, making sure that they were all polished to perfection, before being set down in it's proper place on each tray that awaited adornment.&nbsp; The task itself, could have been done easily, since it had been part of her routine for as long as she had worked there, but the expression of deep concentration never faltered from her brow, even as she fought the cook for space around the oven and stoves.&nbsp; As the last touches were being made, several maids came in, and were dispatched for deliveries in quick order.&nbsp; The last tray was for Mister Ryan of course, and because of that, she spent extra attention making sure everything was perfectly placed.&nbsp; When she was finally satisfied, she nodded at the young maid, and it was dispatched with a steady haste, in order to arrive promptly, and steaming hot.&nbsp; <br><br>It was only when the task was done, that she allowed herself a heavy sigh, and a small rest on a wooden stool, her piercing blue eyes staring intently out the window.&nbsp; Her long fingers smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress, even as her mind moved onto the tasks that needed doing in the next few moments.&nbsp; There were still so many things that needed to be done, everything from putting fresh sheets on the recently 'laid in' beds, to making a physical inventory of all the linens and the silverware, that was currently not in use.&nbsp; A lot of things would need to be done several times, and even than there was no real guarantee that the day would be over.&nbsp; Repetitive, she thought with a small smile, and she found a certain comfort in that simple thought.&nbsp; Her small respite was soon over though, and she was once again on her feet, her familiar form, once more traveling through the Teahouse in order to keep everything running efficiently, and without friction.</span></div><br><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong><em>Tag:</em></strong> Anyone</span></span></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>30-08-2011, 03:17:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/ee/Teahouseicon.png)<br><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Time Skip.</span><br><em>This thread has been moved through time. All activities beyond this notification will take place in the evening of day one, instead of the afternoon.</em><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/ee/Teahouseicon.png)</div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>30-08-2011, 04:02:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				This day had been.. unusually busy, Ryan pondered, hands shifting slightly on his back. Watching the shadows grow longer ever so slowly in the garden, he couldn't help but wonder if he would have gotten out of bed if he had known all the going ons this morning.<br>But, yes.. He would have. Even if it had been just for the stolen time with Atticus. Perhaps to have the conversation again with Anel. Hear Zara play. Welcome an artist into the House.<br>A sigh escaped him, and he hoped it went unnoticed. He wasn't in his office after all, but in the common room. For once, he actually wanted company, even if he didn't really feel like talking.<br>He could have lived without kicking a client from the House. For rape, no less. He could have lived without the news Rubee had given him.<br>Financially, though, the day had been a success, and evening was just about dawning. As most clients worked during the day, the evening was the more busy of times.<br>He just hoped there wouldn't be any more complications.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>30-08-2011, 04:48:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Damon had been traveling for hours at this point just to get to the city, but as the carriage continued down the road towards the Teahouse, he couldn't help feeling energized. His harried assistant was going through his appointment book, he'd already made the poor man rearrange several appointments just to accommodate this visit, forcing him to cancel the entire evening for this whim. <br><br>"... I... are you certain? We could still make the o-other appointments if we-"<br><br>"No, no. I've made up my mind," Damon raised a hand to cut the man off, a slight grin on his lips as he lowered it back down, watching anxiously out the window as the carriage traveled. "My other appointments can wait."<br><br>His assistant sighed and reached up to rub his forehead, muttering something under his breath. He didn't dare question Dr. Archelaos outirght. With a resigned sigh he shut his appointment book, peering at Damon.<br><br>"We <em>really</em> should have made an appointment if you insist on visiting this establishment..."<br><br>"No," Damon said, a smirk on his lips as his gaze snapped to his assistant, giving him a mischievous look, before slowly being directed back out the window. "It has to be a surprise."<br><br>It was a moot point anyway, as the Teahouse was rapidly coming into view, Damon had made up his mind, and there was simply no time to make an appointment now. Damon scarcely waited for the carriage to come to a full stop, not even waiting for the carriage driver to open the door for him before he was already descending down the carriage steps and on the path, heading to the door, his cloak fluttering behind him as he stroke purposefully. <br><br>"Stay with the carriage and head someplace nice nearby, I'll be here a while," he called out to his assistant without looking back. He hesitated at the door, hand on the doorknob, and waited a moment until he heard the sound of hoof beats, the carriage slowly moving away, and a slight smirk tugged at his lips. He didn't bother knocking - clearly he considered himself to have the privilege of entering regardless, opening the door and striding into the foyer. <br><br>His grin widened as he spotted his target beyond the hall, and he immediately entered into the common room. He approached Ryan with a confident stride, stopping when he was nearly toe-to-toe with the man, a playful twinkle in his eye. "I apologize, I don't have an appointment but I thought I would drop in anyway."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>30-08-2011, 05:06:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Footsteps behind him he tried to ignore to keep his gaze on the garden, but he knew he had to turn. There was no such thing as privacy, a life for himself. Moments. That was all.<br>And thus Ryan turned on his heels, hands still on his back which he grew exceedingly happy with then there when he saw just who dared wander into the Teahouse. There wasn't anyone who would be able to see those hands form fists so tight that the knuckles grew white. Only if someone had been in the garden looking in the window he had been looking out of.<br><br>His face didn't hold his usual mask. No, it was more. It seemed it froze into pure ice. It didn't show the fast swings in emotions, only what surfaced first and grew rapidly stronger. Ryan was angry and he glared ice cold daggers at the man before him. How dared this man step into the House? How dared he? After this long?<br><br>"Damon," he said, his voice a whisper, as if none should hear the other man's name. Brown eyes met brown eyes, but his could have been made out of ice.<br>It had been half a year, he was sure.<br>"I don't think you have ever made an appointment here, so why start now?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>30-08-2011, 05:30:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Damon grinned, unfazed by Ryan's apparent anger. The man's mask was flawless, but Damon knew him well enough to know when he was upset. "Indeed, no need to ruin a perfect system with things as useless as 'appointments', hm?" He winked at Ryan, and reached to undo the elegant clasp of his cloak, it fluttering slightly as he removed it and draped it over his arm. He cast a quick glance about the hall - he knew there were servants about, but he didn't see any right now. Fantastic. <br><br>"So, no proper welcome for me this time? If I didn't know any better, I'd wager you're in a bad mood. I might even be put off that you don't appear to have missed me very much," Damon said, his voice low, though the cheeky grin never left his face. He was still standing rather close to Ryan, and he even nonchallantly reached to brush a tiny speck of something or other, almost invisible, off of Ryan's clothes after he'd given him a thorough eye-over.<br><br>His voice was barely a whisper now, and Damon leaned in a tiny bit closer so that Ryan could hear. "I know it's been a long time, I'm sorry. Want to tell me what's wrong?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>30-08-2011, 05:38:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His chest felt tight, something that didn't happen all too often, and he wondered if he should let the anger go, unleash it, before he harmed himself in some manner. That, however, would be quite a tell-tale sign in such a public place of the Teahouse.<br>Lips thinned as Damon eyed him over. He eyed him. He did what? Openly, even.<br>If even one servant wandered in... No, he'd not care. But if any of the whores did, this tale would be hitting the streets in under the time it took to take the man into his office.<br><br><em>"So, no proper welcome for me this time? If I didn't know any better, I'd wager you're in a bad mood. I might even be put off that you don't appear to have missed me very much,"</em><br><br>Eyes narrowed and he nearly had flung a fisted hand at the man. Instead, they intertwined on his back. If he kept this up he'd break a finger.<br>"It's been six months, Damon," he said instead, and tore his gaze from the other man's face.<br><br>Six months. Damon couldn't have known what had happened in those months. He'd probably be quite surprised to see Atticus wander in, recalling him maybe from... that <em>other</em> brothel.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>30-08-2011, 05:50:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Six months? Well, that's even longer than I thought. I've been very busy," Damon said in a rather cavalier manner, turning slightly to move away from Ryan. The narrowed eyes, the thinned lips - Damon could see he was indeed in a <em>very</em> bad mood, and so he walked over to the windows Ryan had been gazing out of a moment ago, looking out into the garden himself now. <br><br>"The garden looks nice," he commented, his lips pursing in a thoughtful manner as he attempted to make casual small-talk, if only to partially defuse Ryan's volatile mood. "There are a few new rose bushes since the time I was here last, I think." <br><br>After that he went silent for a moment, still holding his cloak draped over his arm, his hand fidgeting with a silver and sapphire button on his cuff. <br><br>"You seem stressed, Ryan. You really should relax more," he said, giving Ryan a sidelong glance and a very faint smirk. He contemplated offering to 'help' with that, but - no. Ryan seemed angry enough as it was. His glib remarks didn't seem to be helping. <br><br>"It's good to see you again," Damon said, his voice low again, his eyes going back out the window. His comment finally seemed sincere, but he didn't even look at Ryan while saying so. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>30-08-2011, 06:00:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Only when he moved, Ryan relaxed. Sort of.<br>At least his hands were peeled from each other, but he wondered if he could hold them like this or if they would ball into fists again.<br>Perhaps he should sit down. But he didn't want to leave Damon's side.<br>Inclining his head, apparently to study the rug he was stood upon, he sighed deeply, a waterfall of raven black hair obscuring his face.<br><br>"Why are you here? It can not be to see me. After all, all these months have passed without even a word of you. Or perhaps you truly but wish to speak of my.. 'roses'," he said quietly.<br><br><em>'It is good to see you again, old friend,'</em> he though to himself <em>'But have you come here to rip my heart out or for something else?'</em>.<br>He shook his head lightly and smirked at himself. Perhaps Ryan would injure the man at his side instead. For six months was quiet some time and he had not been sitting idly in this last half of a year.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>30-08-2011, 06:10:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'm in town on business," Damon answered, taking a long, deep breath and exhaling silently. He did feel a bit guilty admitting to Ryan that he was only there because business had brought him there in the first place, and as he thought for a moment, he ran his tongue over his teeth contemplatively. Slowly his gaze drifted back over towards Ryan, though he remained standing where he was. <br><br>"... I canceled an entire evening's worth of appointments to come straight here," he said curtly, his gaze abruptly shifting back towards the garden. Yes, it had been six months since Ryan had last seen him or heard from him, but perhaps that would convince him he was truly there to see him. <br><br>"However. If you truly don't care to see me right now, I could probably make my appointments still," Damon said with a slight sigh in his voice, the hand that wasn't holding the cloak reaching for his pocket watch and flicking it open, glancing at the time. He didn't actually care what time it was. It wasn't as though he intended to leave regardless of what Ryan's answer was. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>30-08-2011, 06:16:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He snorted when he heard Damon had cancelled his evening appointments. So this <em>had</em> been a whim. Ryan did not cross his mind in the least of bits, he was sure.<br>But when Damon uttered he could leave, his head pulled up sharply and he glared at him, back straightening so strongly it looked as if Ryan had swallowed quite a length of some or the other pole.<br><br>"You assume too much," he said, keeping a very firm control over his voice as to not spit out the words instead.<br>"Please follow me to my office," he continued and actually did not move until he saw the other man move, something so very rare it was almost unique "I think we might need to talk."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Oneiros</strong> on <strong>30-08-2011, 06:27:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Damon smirked very faintly as he snapped his pocket watch closed, tucking it away before turning, his eyes briefly meeting Ryan's in a meaningful gaze though he didn't say anything. He knew where Ryan's office was, and so he walked past him, beginning to head into that direction. Ryan had asked him to follow, but it was as though he was leading. <br><br>"... so, what <em>have</em> you been up to in the past six months?" He asked, his casual demeanor back now that Ryan seemed less inclined to punch him in the face. That would hardly have been a warm welcome. In fact, his welcome so far seemed tepid at best, but Damon <em>was</em> genuinely happy to see Ryan again, despite the foul mood he seemed to be in. "How has business been?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>31-08-2011, 03:03:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Of course Damon took the lead. Something that always happened if Ryan wasn't careful. The power-struggle between the two men would probably be fascinating to watch. Ryan counted himself lucky there was no audience, though.<br>He didn't pick up pace, leaving Damon with the assumption he was submitting to his leadership. Which wasn't all too true ; Ryan just didn't really care.<br><br>"I'm more interested to know if you've managed to spawn offspring as of yet," Ryan retorted. Damon was wed. Something Ryan didn't care about either. Maybe. Probably. No. He didn't care...<br>"Would be lovely to have something playfully run around these parts in, let's say, sixteen years... Some handsome, little, <em>influential</em> boy... Though I do hate waiting for my toys."<br><br>Then why had he waited for Atticus to come to him?<br><br><br><hr>[To here.] (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98330.msg5139966#msg5139966)
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>01-09-2011, 04:32:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">From her room. (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98328.msg5140806#msg5140806)</span></em><br><br><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Her fingertips played along with the banister of the stairs as she slowly made her way down and to the main floor, surprised to see that it was empty. <em>Thank God</em>, she thought with a small smirk playing along her lips. She would have hated to have to be nice to someone. Unless it was a John...or a Jane. Her eyes sparkled with pleasure before she let out a little sigh, she was tired. She had done her fair share of entertaining today and merely wanted to have an early evening.<br><br>Unless of course Master Ryan demanded she take on a client. <em>Would he demand that she take one after the last...brute?</em><br><br>Her heels clicked silently as she crossed the room and made her way to the piano, her fingertips gently touching the instrument. Her eyes lit up but her lips remained pursed in a thoughtful pout, eyes blank of emotions. She slowly sat down on the piano bench and moved her fingers along the piano keys before very slowly beginning to play a soft ballad, the tone light with a hint of darkness, as were most of her pieces.</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>01-09-2011, 05:04:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center">(http://i1137.photobucket.com/albums/n520/undisclosed2you/Clip%20Art/13147526698443955457050.png)</div><br>Still flattered from the parting comment the housekeeper gave her Fiona descended the stairs with her thoughts distracted aware that there were no Johns or Janes...yet. They would come, evening was falling in a beautiful deepening shadow over the world. And patrons of the Teahouse would come and eave their own illusions and fancies where whatever they desired could be had. Everyone longed for something, for someone, it was simply human nature. <br><br>The redhead stilled at the foot of the stairs, hearing the strains of piano music that meant that Zara was in residence at the piano. So she would not go anywhere near the piano. Certainly just thinking of the dark haired woman made her stomach twist and her breath quicken with the memories of earlier in the gardens. No, she didn't believe any of it. Zara was wrong. <br><br>William. Zara. <br><br>For the first time since the worst of her grief passed she glanced back up the stairs wishing she could retreat to her room. But she was dressed and ready for clients and so she would. She trailed toward one of the elegant couches that sat nearby meant for whores to loung, perch or otherwise display themselves as visual enticement to patrons. Fiona settled down elegantly to wait for the first line up should it come, flouncing out her tulle skirts. One elegant curled lock of cooper hued hair lay over her right shoulder, trailing down almost to the smooth slopes of her pale cleavage. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>02-09-2011, 17:06:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cameron had finished the latest drawing he had done and carried it under his arm protectively as he made his way to Ryan's office. The master of the house had told him to report there when it was done, so he could take a look at it and that was exactly what the pale haired male was doing right now. He was pleased with how it had turned out and entertained notions of drawing Ryan himself at some point, perhaps tonight if he had free time. That is if the master of the place wasn't too busy to spare some time for him.<br><br>He was in a better mood than he had been in quite some time. Probably because he had a way to fill his free time with doing something he actually liked. He still had not gotten any customers yet and had been with the Teahouse for almost a month now. But that didn't bother him any longer, not since he had a job to do and it seemed as if it was helping the brothel out. He got some money from customers who were well satisfied with his work and so even though he wasn't bringing in cash for his body, he was doing it with his skill.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>minerva7790</strong> on <strong>03-09-2011, 10:03:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Charlotte pushed the front doors to the building open just a crack, and peeped in. This place called the Teahouse... Her brother Charles had merely given her the name card and sent her off in the carriage alone... There'd be a surprise waiting for her here, he said, but all Charlotte could see was a young man with platinum blonde with a huge piece of canvas tucked under his arm. Catherine wondered if this was an art house, and if so, how did Charles get the idea that a trip to an art house would be a fitting 17th birthday present. <br><br>"I'll be back in the morning for ye, young mistress," the carriage driver said with a wide grin and a tip of his hat to Charlotte. Before the young mistress could say a word, the driver had snapped the reigns of his carriage to coax the horses into a steady trot. There was nothing for it now, Little Lotte would have to inquire at this establishment for assistance.<br><br>Opening the door wider, she stepped inside quickly. The man with the canvas was striding purposefully across the hall and Charlotte didn't want to miss him. "Umm, excuse me..." she called out, trying to hurry forward. As it were, her clumsiness always got the better of her at important moments, just like now. In her haste, she had not lifted her skirt high enough, and stepping on the hem of her new chocolate gown, she crashed onto the floor... Her cheeks flushed as scarlet as her hair even as she grimaced with pain... "Owwwww..." she whimpered, struggling to stand again and recover her smashed dignity.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>04-09-2011, 02:41:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cameron had just turned the corner and was about to head down the hall to where Ryan's office was when he heard a crash behind him. He turned around and saw a heap of skirts on the floor which belonged to an unfamiliar face. Making his way over to where the woman was, he knelt by her and put a hand on her shoulder lightly as he extended his other to help her up again. "Are you alright, miss?" He inquired, wanting to make sure she wasn't hurt anywhere. But from the way her face looked it was obvious she might be.<br><br>"I think we should get that scrape looked at, don't you?" He suggested and gestured to the side. Cam could spare some time for her, it wasn't as if Ryan was expecting him right away after all. "Welcome to the Teahouse by the way." He added, wanting to make sure she knew exactly where she was at the moment. Hopefully she hadn't come here by mistake. Cameron made his way down the hall and towards one of the rooms where whores and customers alike could freshen up a bit. "Come this way, please." He murmured.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>minerva7790</strong> on <strong>04-09-2011, 09:49:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Without looking directly at the man, Charlotte took his extended hand and got shakily to her feet. The only good thing about wearing layers of petticoats was that it helped cushion falls, but still, her left leg felt funny, as though she might have twisted her ankle. Charlotte tested it by putting a little weight on it, and would have fallen over again, if not for the platinum blonde's hand. "I-I'm sorry," she muttered, still gripping the stranger's hand tightly for support. "I'm such a nuissance..."<br><br>All in all, this wasn't turning out to be the best birthday Charlotte has ever had. First, her brother tricked her into coming to this strange place, and then she had to go and twist her ankle in front of a complete stranger... How she wished Marie, her maidservant, were here to help her! Charlotte tried to smile at the man to show her gratitude, but found herself still too embarrassed to look him in the eye. Besides, he looked so cool and elegant that Charlotte felt like a complete buffoon beside him. <br><br>As she allowed the man to guide her to a side room, Charlotte mused over the name of the establishment. "The Teahouse..." she repeated. "Err... Is this a cafe...?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>04-09-2011, 16:45:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When he wanted to Cameron could be quite the gentleman. He shook his head when she apologized to him and let a smile come to his face. "Oh you're not a nuisance, you just suffered a little fall is all." Cameron said and let her grip his hand tightly for support so she didn't repeat her accident from earlier. He led her to the area in question and then took out the necessary materials to take care of her ankle. "This is a lotion that will help keep the pain away and hopefully keep any swelling down." He informed the woman.<br><br>Cameron gently massaged the lotion onto the afflicted area and then worked on wrapping up her ankle. "Does any place hurt besides your ankle?" He asked, wondering if he had overlooked anything of importance. "Later on you should probably get it looked at by a doctor if it continues to hurt after a few days." The pale haired male suggested and glanced back over at Charlotte when she spoke, asking him about the Teahouse. So she really didn't know what this particular establishment was made for. That was rather fun.<br><br>"I suppose one could call it that. But we don't serve tea and cakes for our guests, instead we provide a more... <em>adult</em> entertainment." Cameron said, for once not being as blunt as he normally was. Perhaps it was because Charlotte seemed so innocent and he didn't want to ruin her impression of this place yet. Not that there was anything dirty about the Teahouse but the subject matter could be a bit delicate for women like her who didn't know what the Teahouse was supposed to deliver to its customers.<br><br>"There we are, you're all set." He murmured, looking up at Charlotte with a smile on his face. Cameron was currently kneeling at her feet and looking much like a butler or servant. Perhaps that would make Charlotte feel more at ease were it not for his choice of stylish clothing that a servant would never have been caught wearing. "Do you think you can stand?" He asked, wanting to make sure she was fine. The male's drawing was propped up against the wall to the left which he would pick up again once they headed out.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>06-09-2011, 01:47:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Apparently the day that had passed the Teahouse by had been one filled with unpleasantness. Lessard had been rather busy tending to his clients and as such he was unaware of the rather negative aspects of the previous day; in his opinion it had been quite a pleasant 'shift', for lack of a better word and as he descended the grand staircase from the numerous rooms above a small and contented smile lingered on his strong, elegant features. His head was tilted downward, glasses in place as he ran his eyes over the small book, his other hand slowly writing notes regarding his most recent client.<br><br>He was sure the boy would return, and he himself looked forward to the time; River had been a refreshing change from the monotony of would-be submissives and would most definitely be welcomed back into the whore's room. "Hm... Much too quiet... I really must push him further next time..." He mused aloud before he heard the sound of chatter and he looked up to watch the blonde and an unknown woman enter a nearby side room.<br><br>"Hmm...?" He tilted his head to one side, his curiosity rather piqued but he trusted that Cameron would ensure the possible client was introduced well into the House, and as such he didn't interfere. Instead, he made his way towards the tea room (one of his more favoured places to relax) and took a seat at a small, round table, neatly crossing his legs and placing the book on the smooth surface. "Hmm... Quiet this evening..." Lessard mused, reaching across for the teapot in the middle of the table, peering into it with a small sigh.<br><br>Empty...<br><br>He glanced around slowly for any sign of a servant or at least another whore or potential client to speak with. Things got rather dull withnonly one/ self for company, after all and he lightly drummed his fingers on the book cover, his other hand idly running though long dark hair.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>minerva7790</strong> on <strong>06-09-2011, 03:47:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Charlotte smiled shyly at the pale-haired man's magnanimous reply. That was soon replaced with a wince when he began to massage the ankle, but the man's gentle hands made her relax again. Why, his hands were as soft as a lady's, and his skin as smooth too! She tried to guess his occupation. The man wasn't dressed as a waiter, and besides, he had said this place didn't serve tea and cakes (for which, Charlotte was a little disappointed; nothing like macarons to cheer you up!). He might be an artist, which would explain the canvas, but how would that fit in with adult entertainment?<br><br>"I got it!" Charlotte exclaimed suddenly. "This is a museum for boring, grown-up art pieces!" Her father owned a few such art pieces -- pictures of boring grey landscape or portraits of ugly men and women. His guests often stopped by in the corridors to admire them, but Charlotte always thought they looked rather drab. Just what the adults saw in those art pieces, she never knew. <br><br>Charlotte looked down at the platinum blonde as if waiting for him to confirm her guess, then let out gasp when realisation dawned upon her that she had been allowing an artist, probably one of substantial fame and fortune that warranted such elegant clothes, kneel at her feet like a servant! In her distress and confusion, she had insulted him! Pulling her leg away from him, Charlotte jumped up, forgetting that her ankle was hurt. "I'm so sorry, good sir!" Charlotte said, trying to ignore the pain shooting up her leg. She was subconsciously aware of how good the lotion was; the pain was somewhat numbed and bearable now. "Please stand! You should not be doing the work of a servant! I am sorry for insulting your honour!" Trying desperately to remember her manners, Charlotte dropped a curtsey, "Charlotte Riddington, at your service, good sir!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>06-09-2011, 07:42:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Could she really be that innocent? He had hoped to introduce her to the Teahouse in a more subtle manner. But perhaps she wouldn't understand the true purpose of the place unless he was blunt like he always tended to be, up until now. Cameron found it difficult to hide the smirk that came to his face when Charlotte guessed incorrectly as to what sort of entertainment the Teahouse provided. He was about to enlighten her when she suddenly jumped to her feet, despite her injured ankle and he frowned at her behavior.<br><br>Not that it was his place to question her but she would hurt herself further if she continued to be so reckless! A charming smile came to his face when he heard her words and Cameron extended his hand out to her as he rose to his feet. "Please, don't worry about such things, miss. You are hurt, most likely because of me and therefore it is my duty to make sure your injury is taken care of." He insisted and inclined his head when Charlotte introduced herself with a curtsy. "Cameron." The flaxen haired male responded softly.<br><br>There was no need for last names, no one really wanted to know them anyway. "Last names don't seem to be of much interest in a brothel like this one." He added, telling Charlotte of the true nature of this place. "But please, if your ankle feels good enough to walk on I should take you to Rubee. She's the one who is usually in charge of welcoming new clients to the Teahouse." Cameron said with a nod and waited for Charlotte to respond or react to his latest words. Would she understand what he meant by a brothel or not?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>minerva7790</strong> on <strong>08-09-2011, 18:59:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Charlotte shook her head vigorously when the blond-haired man, Cameron, suggested that it might be his fault that she had gotten hurt. "No, not at all!" she was quick to protest. "It's just that... I'm always this clumsy..." This was no secret; anyone who knew Charlotte long enough found this out on their own. But Charlotte felt a little embarrassed admitting it to a stranger, and she looked down at the floor to hide her blush, her lace gloved-fingers clasping and unclasping in her awkwardness. "It's a pleasure to meet you, anyway, Cameron!" she added, hoping to steer the conversation away from the embarrassing topic.<br><br>And then her eyes widened at Cameron's next revelation. A brothel? Yes, Charlotte had heard the word before, but had always imagined gaudy hangings in a shabby building, with women in too much rogue and perfume standing at the doorways waiting to welcome despicable men in their whiny, high-pitched voices. How could this classy establishment compare with that mental image. And besides... "Don't brothels only employ women?" she asked without pausing to think. And come to think of it, why would Charles, her loving brother, send her to a brothel? Something wasn't quite adding up for Charlotte here. She wondered if Ruby, or whatever her name was, had more answers. "Yes, my ankle is much better, thanks to your gentle ministrations," she said, making an effort to smile at her savior, despite her confusion. "I am sorry to have imposed on you. Please lead the way!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>13-09-2011, 17:37:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cameron wondered exactly what Charlotte thought about herself but decided not to put what he was thinking into words for once. It might not be appropriate, considering the circumstances. "Likewise." He murmured and let a light chuckle escape his lips at her words regarding brothels. "Most brothels employ members of both sexes to satisfy the urges of their clients." The flaxen haired male said, enlightening Charlotte to the world of places like this. But he was glad to hear Charlotte's ankle was doing better.<br><br>At least she wouldn't be in pain which was a good thing to know. "Follow me." He murmured and turned to head towards the main area where Rubee usually frequented. Cameron was somewhat surprised that she hadn't already seen her but it didn't matter much. Eventually Charlotte would be introduced to Rubee and then he would be on his way to report to Ryan. Maybe he could find her later on once he was done. Once they reached the aforementioned area, Cameron looked around for some sign of the female.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>13-09-2011, 18:01:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rubee glanced down at the log book, making sure the last cent of money was accounted for; no more making mistakes like the last accountant. She did not want to cross Master Ryan and knowing what the good-for-nothing accountant would face put a smile on Rubee's face. At the last glance with her satisfaction, Rubee took her log book and headed back out into the main. Usually, there were some clients around, but Rubee spent the last few hours in her log book and trying to figure out a new way to save up her finances for a nice visit to Santiago's grave. His birthday was coming up and while the grave would not be at an actual cemetery with a headstone, but instead, the ocean, she would make due to pay him some flowers. His body might be somewhere down in the depths of the ocean, but he was still the father to her...baby. Rubee kept her rage under control as she glanced up and noticed Cameron with an unknown female.<br><br>"Welcome to the Teahouse," Rubee answered in kind, coming around from the desk to greet the new client. Quickly, Rubee looked over and frowned, "Do you require a doctor?" Rubee noticed the small limp in the female and hoped she had not fallen inside the Teahouse. It would not be good if the female client came back around to demand free services unless she wanted to tell the world the Teahouse was an unsafe environment. Master Ryan would not approve of such tactics, but Rubee did not doubt he would find a way to shut the woman up. For now, she pasted on a warm smile and walked over to the pair. "Let me have a servant bring you some ice water and you can inform me what you want to see in a Teahouse worker tonight."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>18-09-2011, 22:36:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;Atticus descended the main stairs, one hand resting casually on his swordhilt and manipulating it without thought so it wouldn’t foul his step. He wore a fresh shirt and his cheeks were freshly shaved, the crisp scent of his soap lingering about him. He had also changed his trousers. His eyes were half-lidded, slightly drowsy still after taking a few hours to sleep. The quietest hours of the day were when Atticus rested. He found it quite impossible to sleep for more than four hours, but that allowed him to be alert and active more often than not. <br><br>There was something else new to his evening wear, though it was visible only by the slightest rise of shirt linen. A glass and gold locket wound under his clothes, so it could kiss his skin with its smooth, cool shape. He didn’t wear it frequently, but the dreams that had harrowed him as he slept made him desperate for some talisman against them. <br><br>Had it been Master Ryan’s touch or the mangled terror, anticipation and relief of taking a client? Whatever had summoned them, he’d not had any so bad in months. Perhaps it had even been the smoke he’d indulged in. <br><br>His head turned in the direction of the music room, the familiar strains of Zara’s fingerwork dancing darkly through the air. Voices drifted from the offices. Clients? The first wave of the night? Good thing he had woken when he had. <br><br>He was rather reluctant to go to Master Ryan’s office. He still hadn’t told the man he’s failed in ensnaring the artist. He wouldn’t be punished – not publicly, or harshly. He knew that. It didn’t make it any easier. It felt like he’d lost every hard-learned skill, to be so cooly snubbed by the man, so instead, he hesitated, lingered in the hallway, cast his gaze through the doorway of the lounge and spied Fiona, resplendent in a golden dress. Red hair and gold fabric. It looked rather unfortunate, to his eye. The rich colour did not favour pale skinned women. Not even Zara would be able to wear it well. Still, what did he know? It might be the fashion and he’d be none the wiser.<br><br>He entered the room, offering her a smile. “Good evening, miss. Any clients this evening?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>18-09-2011, 23:27:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Left to herself for several long moments Fiona had removed the small book she had hidden among the folds of her dress in a cleverly sewn pocket. The layers of tulle were useful in hiding the pockets in her petticoats, a thing she had designed on purpose; there was also a small bit of lace and beads she had been sewing to keep herself busy tucked away in there but for now she favored the book. It was poetry by a poet over three hundred years dead but still a favorite of hers, a epic poem that filled the whole book and was the story of a Faerie queen. <br><br>Readily she sank into the reading, lips absently forming the words as the minutes slipped past; she had glanced up of course when a new client appeared but Cameron appeared to have the young woman well in hand and she had no reason to move so the redhead returned to her reading. Lessard coming downstairs was also noted, though she felt too unsettled to seek out the man she saw as a mentor; he saw too much and currently she wasn't feeling up to anyone seeing her who could read her well. Fiona liked the privacy of her own thoughts and her emotions, those that were not easy and bright, were locked away for her to experience alone. <br><br>Passion, laughter, the brighter spectrum she reveled in earnestly and easily but the others...no, they had no place here, only when she was in her room and locked away from the rest of the world. <br><br>Caught in her thoughts, staring blankly at the page before her she didn't notice Atticus until he was standing in front of her, that familiar voice teasing into her thoughts. A welcome thread to latch onto, for a moment at least. The artist. She could focus on her friend rather then herself. Up the redhead glanced, a easy smile in return upon her lips with only a faint tightness about her eyes to reveal she had anything on her mind other then poetry and sewing. "Good evening Mr. Cross. There seems to be one new client, Mr. Cameron saw to her though I believe, outside of that none as of yet."<br><br>"If you mean to ask if I have clients tonight, then I have no certainty as of yet. Ms. Emma mentioned a line up though and so here I am." She paused there, thinking of a time when every evening had been certain and steady. Why must she torture herself so to think of what would never be now though? <br><br>"How did the session with the artist go? Oh....he left a drawing for you, on my tea table. I put it up to keep it from being ruined." She smiled softly then, thinking of how expressively Atticus had been captured on the page. "Sir Nicholas certainly has a talent, I hope he found my room to his taste."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>19-09-2011, 00:51:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;His lips stretched and his teeth flashed in a brief grin as she greeted him, relaxing slightly in him stance. He nodded at her answer to his question, throwing a glance over his shoulder towards the offices. No one was to be seen, though. “Good. I was afraid I might have over slept.”His gaze swung back to Fiona, chest swelling a suppressed yawn. <br><br>“You may be in luck, then.” He didn’t make clear which he would consider lucky, getting a client or not. Her curiosity about the artist made his smile slip. He made a low soft sound in his throat. “I’m out of practice. I’m sure I offended him at least twice.” He stopped, his jaw clenched, his gaze darting away from Fiona. “He said something about your room. I forget what, but he implied it was... never mind. I think he liked it better than mine, in any case.” His attention was fixed at a spot on the floor. I think... he wants to whore me.” He said it haltingly, and low, so Zara’s music killed the words before they found any but Fi’s ear. “Master Ryan, I mean. He told me I could earn him a lot. I don’t know what to do, Fiona.” There was a sharp spike of fear in his voice, and he shifted uneasily on his feet. “It’s stupid, I know. I should be leaping at the chance.” His hand jerked from sword hilt and started to move towards his chest or throat, but he stopped himself, fisting his hand and forcing it down. <br><br>“No, it’s ridiculous. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be burdening you with this.” He looked at her for a moment, then looked towards the offices again. Master Ryan’s office. Dread’s cold fingers clenched at his insides. The glass and gold locket gave a cooler burn over his heart.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>19-09-2011, 02:41:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He seemed so at ease, but then again now, especially not when the artist was mentioned; perhaps she should not have asked but otherwise she would have worried. Sir Nicholas had a bit of a reputation for avoiding brothel's from what she had heard, and there had never been a word breathed of the man being violent. Perhaps it simply was that the two men did not understand each other well. That could happen quiet readily and clearly Sir Nicholas hadn't felt the need to cause a scene earlier, so that spoke well to things; at least, not that she had heard of. Holing up in her room had rather removed her from any current happenings for the past few hours. Hours that would mean little in most lines of work but could mean everything with a whore. <br><br>A furrow of concern creased her brow at Atticus' words and she put aside her book, reaching for the hand not on his sword with both of her's and clasping it in a gentle touch that put no demands, simply offered the comfort of another's touch. Atticus was so rarely nervous in front of others, sometimes when it was just the two of them, yes, but on the ground floor? Not before that she could remember. <br><br>Fiona raised his hand up, pulling it towards her and ghosted a soft kiss on the back of it. A token, meant to remind him of stolen moments together when he had reassured her and her fears that she so rarely voiced. The music in the room reminded her that Zara had found them, but not as kindly as her friend before her. No, she wouldn't think of the other woman. "I'm sure he wouldn't dark star," she murmured softly, using the term of endearment she addressed him with so far only within her room.&nbsp; "at least not if the notion is abhorrent to you. You know he doesn't countenance rape and well...he took you from that <em>other</em> place and offered you a position here did he not? One that was not sexual and let you go six months with your celibacy."<br><br>Slightly she applied a pressure on his hand, asking him to sit with her but it was no demand nor did she voice it. Sometimes doing such was not needful and she would hate to make him feel pressured to do anything. "You never burden me Atticus, its not ridiculous, at least no more then I've been at moments. Its what friends are for, and I very much value the fact that you would speak with me of anything so...concerning. You could likely earn a lot, more then anyone else here likely there's just something about you, the artist saw it as well." The thought of the artist had her frown then, alarm flashing in her blue green eyes. <br><br>"Sir Nicholas didn't harm you did he? Or pressure you to accept...certain intimacies?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>19-09-2011, 02:58:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><em>Murmurs. Whispers. Murmurs. Whispers. Murmurs.</em> Zara tried to focus on her playing but the sound of voices kept interrupting her. Normally she would have no problem ignoring such interruptions but not when it was certain voices that she had come to know personally. Her fingertips faltered over the keys and she suddenly slammed her hands on the music keys, irritation flashing over her eyes. Really! Was it so much to ask for a little peace while she played? She had half a mind to go to Master Ryan and demand a piano in her own room. She rolled her eyes as she scowled to herself. No, he would never give her such an extraordinary gift.<br><br>She was certain he would for Fiona. Pretty little Fiona...whom Zara wanted to rip apart piece by piece.<br><br>With a soft and delicate sniff, Zara raised herself up and made sure her black lace gloves were perfectly in place before she made her way to where the voices where coming from. Her eyes suddenly sparkled when she saw Atticus...though they became turbulent when she spotted Fiona too. <em>Little bitch!</em> If Atticus had not been around, Zara would have dragged Fiona into a dark corner and finished what she had begun outside of the Teahouse. It was truly a good thing that they were in the main floor so she would have to wait...and waiting mean many possibilities for Zara's anger to be directed elsewhere.<br><br>Her eyes stared daggers at Fiona, her smile evil as she murmured in a sugar sweet voice, "Fiona. How was your quiet time in your room?" She tilted her head, her black hair fixed in place along one shoulder, eyes still hateful and angry towards the other whore. "I hope your time outside wasn't too...tiring."&nbsp; After staring at Fiona silently for a few seconds longer than was proper, her eyes shifted to Atticus and they lowered submissively, her voice soft, "Evening, Atticus."<br><br>With a slight sway of her hips, Zara made her way towards the bar that was located in the room, her mouth parched and aching for something to burn its way down her throat. She would behave...for the Teahouse...she would behave.<br><br><em>But she will pay.</em> She fumed hatefully, her smile ruthless, <em>Somehow...someway...she wasn't get off easy.</em></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>19-09-2011, 03:05:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The moment Zara appeared Fiona stiffened slightly, her cheeks tinting ever so slightly with a pink flush as she lowered her eyes hoping the other woman wouldn't talk to her. Better to be ignored, as was Zara's normal course to take with her, then to be mocked and...aroused so. Still she didn't want Atticus to ask questions so she forced herself to smile in response, her eyes defensive though. <br><br>"It was soothing, I spent time..." she trailed off unable to answer more when Zara mentioned the outside and her cheeks did sting with a very vivid blush. She had a moment of rueing her pale coloring then, wishing she could hide her blush with her hair perhaps but it was all piled up largely. Surely her cheeks nearly matched her silken tresses in hue. Oh dear. <br><br>Nervously her hands dropped his, breaking the contact to retreat not realizing how very out of character that was. Instead she fidgeted with her book, turning it over and then over again in her grasp. Zara had gone away then, leaving her room to breathe, to recollect herself. The other whore was simply having a bad day and wanted someone to take it out on, she had seen it happen before. The dark haired woman would loose interest and Fiona would keep to herself as normal unless requested by a client. If it weren't for the fact that there was a line up to happen she would have fled up the stairs without a second thought. But she had a job to do. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>19-09-2011, 03:30:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her hand was warm, soft, the bones slender and delicate, intimate even with his glove on. He wanted to feel skin on skin, but wanted to keep holding her hand more. He let the contact ease him, let her unwind the tightness in his chest. His eye moved to her as she pressed lips just above his knuckles. He listened to her reassurances, held back his cynical retort. Pimps were only kind when it suited their wallets. As good as Master Ryan was, it didn’t stop him from being a pimp. Her naivety and faith hade his heart ache. The slight urging stirred him from his thoughts but he hesitated to sit. He shot her a smile at the ‘friends’ comment, happy to count her as one of his. “Oh, the knight. No, though if I were less out of practice I could have induced him to. The rape fee Master Ryan could get out of that one would have been...”<br><br>His voice dropped away, hearing the music stop. A moment later and Zara entered the room. The woman’s temper was up, it seemed, and all her poison seemed for Fiona. When she turned to him, she became demure and pleasant. He offered her a shallow bow. “Miss Zara, your playing was delightful.” If only she had continued a little longer. <br><br>He noticed how the comment about the garden made Fiona blush, and he recalled seeing her run inside as he was having a smoke. Of course, something had happened between them. “Are you all right?” he asked Fiona, seeing how she twisted her book in her hands.&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>19-09-2011, 03:47:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				With a force of will she made herself leave her book alone and clasp her hands neatly together on her lap; there was a stiffness to her shoulders that she couldn't break free of but she summoned her easy smile on her lips as if nothing was wrong. How could she tell Atticus what had happened? It wasn't likely anything at all to him and she didn't want to upset him when he had far more serious concerns on his mind. But there was that look in his eyes, the memory of all the moments they had spent together. <br><br>Still she made herself shake her head, softly murmuring "Not here, I can't." <br><br>Fiona glanced over toward Zara on the other side of the room out of the corner of her eye and then up at Atticus again. "Do you think we might have time for a turn in the garden before clients begin to arrive Mr. Cross? I fear I'm a bit flushed and I'd so loath to make a ill impression upon first sight. The curse of being a redhead." <br><br>She spoke freely, as if she had nothing to fear but the thought of getting out of the room and away from Zara was very appealing, and a chance to talk to him without having to fret so much over what might be overheard. She was more concerned with his comment about inducing rape from a Knight then her own emotional upsets, but neither topic could be truly discussed here. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>19-09-2011, 03:56:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">There was something in his tone that made Zara's eyes loose some of their temper and seem almost hurt. But they wouldn't notice since she was facing the liquor cabinet and wouldn't let them see her true emotions. At his comment though, she turned her head and gave him a fake smile, her voice dripping with sweet annoyance, "It could have been better..." Her eyes swept over to Fiona's frame before her eyes flashed to Atticus in disgust. <em>Why was he concerned over the little twit?</em><br><br><em>Because he loves her</em>, an inner voice taunted, making her hiss softly.<br><br><em>Love. Like she spoke of. So pathetic. Weak.</em> Zara's eyes began to burn with anger and disgust and she set the liquor bottle down abruptly. "Well...don't let me impose on such a...private moment..." Her lips curved maliciously as she purred, "You both have a pleasant evening." Her eyes lingered on Fiona, the warning clear: Zara wasn't done with her.<br><br>She moved towards the music room once more, taking a healthy swallow of the liquid that burned her insides and warmed her icy heart. Whatever infatuation she felt for <em>him</em> was being slowly chipped away. It was clear the man had eyes only for the redheaded whore whom she loathed.<br><br>A small sadistic smile played along her lips as she sat down in front of the piano once more. <em>But no worries,</em> an inner voice soothed the angered whore, <em>by the time we're done with her....he won't be able to have her.</em></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>19-09-2011, 04:24:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atticus’ gaze flicked between the two beauties, trying to read what had happened between them without great success. Fiona was frightened of Zara. Moreso than she usually was. Was this petty squabbling or something more serious? And how could he settle it? Would it be out of line to get involved? He was not a whore – not in their eyes. They might not listen to him. By ‘they’ he knew he meant Zara. Perhaps he should go to Master Ryan about it? Yes, and then break what trust lay between himself and the pair. <br><br>He held off a sigh and nodded understanding at Fiona. “My legs could do with the stretching –“ he began, but stopped at Zara smacked down the bottle and half snarled some insincere pleasantries. Why was she so petulant? She was usually in such good spirits after a day of fucking. He had thought she truly enjoyed the work – but perhaps today was just off. <br><br>She vanished back to her piano – he doubted anyone else in the House would dare even touch the instrument – and looked at Fi. “Still want that walk, or shall we stay?”&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>19-09-2011, 04:52:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She had felt relief well within her breast when Atticus nodded and was agreeing to her idea only to have Zara intrude again with her ill temper and veiled threats. Fiona forced herself to meet the other woman's gaze, her chin raised slightly in refusal to cower before the other woman's anger. But there was something in her eyes that was so very...malicious. <br><br>Zara left, and left her thoughts reeling as well, scattered within her along with a heart that raced a touch too fast. Fi tucked her little book back into the hidden pocket and stood, reaching for Atticus' hand almost instantly, drawing comfort from the clear fact that the other whore had no intentions to do anything so long as she was around someone who would object. Anel wouldn't, that had been clear earlier, but Atticus wouldn't let anyone harm one of the workers, not even another worker. And the sitting area wasn't the best location in which to have any sort of intimate conversation, even if Zara wasn't present others could come.<br><br>"Walk, please, I can't stay here at the moment. I...hope you forgive my being so familiar to reach for your hand like this. Your touch just settles me so..." the last she said with a softer blush then the one that had filled her cheeks before and a ghost of a smile hovered on her lips after her confession of attachment to him. Time alone with Atticus was always a gift in her thoughts and a walk would help her cool and be better prepared should anyone request her tonight. And deal with it if no one did. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>19-09-2011, 15:24:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The man nodded and helped Fiona to rise, her dress sighing delicately around her. “Then I’m afraid it can only be a brief turn. The night is drawing in, and there will be a frost.” He liked the biting chill of early spring and late autumn, but doubted that fondness would remain if he didn’t have masculine clothes to shield him from the cold. The elegant evening gown would do little to warm Fi once they left the House.<br><br>He said nothing of it, though, and led her through the French doors, out into the evening air. <br><br><hr><br>(To (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98856.msg5229485#msg5229485))
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>22-09-2011, 03:49:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(From (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98856.msg5240226#msg5240226))<br><br><hr><br><br>Cook was preparing dinner at Atticus slid in, and the room was hot and noisy after the cool silences of the garden. He slid around maids and kitchen boys with a fluid ease and left the bustle with a relived sigh. Through a dim, narrow servant’s corridor and out to the main hall.<br><br>His gaze turned at once to the offices, onto Ryan’s door. He hadn’t seen the man since the early afternoon. He wouldn’t go so far as to say it was the longest period of time the two had been apart since Atticus took the position, but it was getting there. He felt a bone deep need to see that tall, powerful man, to simply bask in his presence and let all other thoughts fall away under the mantle of doing his duty. He approached the office, then stopped. The door was open. Papers scattered over the floor.&nbsp; Cam and Anel were there, Master Ryan, and...<br><br>Someone else. Someone who looked familiar. An old client. Not one of his, but a regular none-the-less. A Briars client. <br><br>Atticus heard a sharp, shrill whine in his ears. Colours turned stark, jagged. The shadows sank deeper, seeped out and spread. If someone from the Briars could find their way here, why not him, why not Master Blithe? He would come with his knife and so much money –<br><br>“Stop it, stop it,” he hissed, forcing himself to turn, to stop staring at that man, and forced himself into the lesser used sitting room. There was a billiard table conjoined to it, like the music room was conjoined to the more popular sitting room. There was a faint hint of smoke – clients used it as a smoking room when they felt uncomfortable smoking elsewhere. The room was not, as he had hoped, empty, but he couldn’t seek a more secluded sanctuary. He had to sit down and breath. <br><br>He did just that, collapsing with no bit of grace into an empty chair, leant forwards and gasped steadily, staring at the floor. His sword had caught the chair awkwardly and the pommel was jammed into his ribs. His hands, his whole body was shaking. Bitchfucked, pox riddled idiot, he had to pull himself together. This wasn’t the time to fall apart!&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>22-09-2011, 04:08:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was irritating to stare into the teapot before him and have no way of filling it. Lessard supposed that he could have summoned a servant to fetch more tea, but none happened to pass by and so the whore was left to run a slender fingertip around the cup's rim, a small sigh passing between his lips. "Honestly... A tea room with no tea..." He muttered to himself, finally reaching for his spectacles to slide them off and cleaning their clear surface.<br><br>Still, the solitude was pleasant and he dark eyes scanned over the book before him with a fond smile as he pondered the newest addition to his clientele. The day had been productive; one could only hope that the evening would be equally as such. He blinked slowly and tilted his head to one side as the sound of someone approaching rather swiftly came to his ears, turning towards the entrance with a delicately raised eyebrow.<br><br>Judging by the way Atticus proceeded to collapse into the chair, Lessard could only assume that something untoward had happened and he rose slowly, walking towards the man and lightly clearing his throat, tucking long dark hair behind an ear as he slid his spectacles back upon his nose. "Mr. Cross... You seem rather... Upset this evening?" He offered lightly, his left arm lifting to hold the right elbow. "I would offer a cup of tea but... Sadly it seems to be in short supply of late..."<br><br>He nodded to the seat opposite. "May I...?" Lessard had not spoken with the bodyguard much, but the man seemed like good company for the most part.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>22-09-2011, 04:36:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atticus flinched at the delicate cough, and he lifted his head a moment later, his single eye wide and his face pale. “I... there was just... “ He shook his head, his eye shutting against the world, one hand dragging through his hair in a savage gesture. “I’m fine, thank you,” he managed to say a moment later, though there was a definite shake in his voice that belied that.&nbsp; He heard it there himself and grimaced. “I will be. I just need a moment to... compose myself.” As soon as he could manage the stairs, he was going back to his room and finding... something. Anything. He might have smoked his last weaning cigarette of Dragon, but there would be other things. Like the vial of opium oil he lent to Anel. That would help.<br><br>He was confused at the half question, but it clicked after a second. “Ah, yes. Yes, please.” His speech patterns were jerky, rushed. His accent was ugly in the air. Pox it all. He huffed out a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m going upstairs in just a minute. I won’t be here long.”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>23-09-2011, 00:59:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lessard could not have been more of Atticus' opposite at that moment; where the bodyguard hunched over, the whore sat refined and poised. Where the bodyguard seemed panicked and deeply troubled, the whore was calm and composed. He arched a slender eyebrow and chuckled softly, shaking his head slowly before he spoke, his tone quiet and soothing. "I have been seated here for several minutes, hoping for some company... And you, Mr. Cross, seem to be in something of a state; I would think it wouldn't be pleasant for you to be alone..."<br><br>He nodded and reached for the nearby teacup, lifting it only t be reminded that there was not a drop to be found, sighing and replacing the cup back to the table. With a small shake of the head, Lessard rested an elbow on the table, hos cheek leaning upon aslender knuckle as he looked across at the bodyguard, frowning a little. "I realise we haven't spoken a great deal in my years here, and as such by no means do I expect you to bare the dark secrets of your soul to me... But I have been told I am a pleasant enough listener." A small smile came to his lips, lifting his head to tuck long strands of smooth hair behind an ear.<br><br>"I would offer an impartial ear for you, if you would like it. I know nothing of what bothers you... So perhaps I could offer another perspective...?" .he shrugged his shoulders with a light chuckle. "But it's up to you. I'll not hold you here..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>23-09-2011, 07:40:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atticus’ gaze was drawn up to the seated who as he chuckled, a wary hardness in blue eye for a moment before her realised he wasn’t being laughed at, not maliciously. “I’m not in a state to be seen by clients, either, Mister Tabris. I do not desire to tarnish the House.”&nbsp; And if he was alone he could lose himself for a little while, sink into the soft comfort of what ever narcotic he could get his hands on. <br><br>He could pretend he wasn’t terrified.<br><br>He couldn’t stop himself glancing towards the doorway he had stumbled through. He couldn’t quite see Master Ryan’s office door from here, but he was close enough he should be able to hear if anyone came out. He didn’t like it, but it would do, for now. No one could creep across the hall, the cool flags of marble giving hint of any who trod it. Even Fiona’s silk slippers or Anel’s bare feet had a sound. <br><br>His attention swivelled back to Lessard as he spoke. Atticus managed to drag one corner of his mouth up in a lop-sided smile, and his eye followed the movement of the man’s hand as it pushed back some of his smooth hair. The offer was enticing. To be able to say what was inside him, to lean a little on someone who had such strength of will, to seek advice from another who had a better chance at understanding.<br><br>He spoke like each word was a great weight, a struggle to get up his throat and over his tongue. “I saw... a man in M-master Ryan’s room. He. I’ve seen him. In the place I... in the bro. Brothel I worked at last. I never... If. If Master Ryan is getting old clients from there... the one who cuuhh... urh...” The world crushed against his skull and there was a gleaming flash of metal in his damaged eye’s black vision. He leant forwards, clutching his head in both hands, feeling like he would vomit. <br><br>When he could slow himself, he forced his ragged gasps to slow and deepen. His body shook, but the flashes of metal, the crushing weight eased back. He swallowed, tasting bile on the back of his throat, but not, thankfully, in his mouth. He hadn’t thrown up. Excellent. Well done, Louis. “Cut.” He said, his voice hard. “My f-face. He’ll come here. He doesn’t know wh- Master Ryan doesn’t know who. He’ll come and... ah... ahh... I don’t want to be blind!” <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>23-09-2011, 15:56:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It didn't take someone as perceptive as Lessard to be able to discern that the bodyguard was in a rather terrible state. He shook his head slowly and shiftedhis gaze towards the doorway with a raised eyebrow, a thoughtful hum passing between his lips; it was rare to see Atticus so very paranoid and on edge. The man tended to be a pillar of solidarity in the House and it was a rather dramatic change to see him clutching at his head and stuttering in such a terrible manner. "There are no clients here, Mr. Cross... Should any come by I will politely deal with them and return to you; the wellbeing of the people in the House is surely as important as clients..."<br><br>He blinked slowly as Atticus spoke, a small frown upon his lips as he struggled to understand the fragmented speech, tilting his head to oene side. From the limited information he possessed, Lessard supposed that an old acquaintance was within the House; one whom the bodyguard didn't wish to see from a rather dark part of his past.. It would be difficult to deal with, certainly, but for such a dramatic reaction, the whore knew there had to be a deeper meaning to the affair.<br><br>"Calm down..." He said softly, his tone gentle yet firm as the man almost wretched in front of him, moving a hand slowly across the table to place it carefully and briefly atop Atticus' shoulder,offering a comforting squeeze before leaning back again. He doubted prolongedphysical contact would help any in this instance. As the final few words were traded, rungs suddenly slid into place and Lessard grimaced slightly, glancing towards the doorway once again; so whoever was in the House had a connection to the one who took Atticus' eye... That would certainly be difficult...<br><br>"Louis Cross." He stated firmly, folding his arms over his chest as the bodyguard was in danger of becoming hysterical, clearing his throat, his gaze hardening to a firm stare. "Nothing will happen to you here. Do you have so little faith in Master Ryan that you fret so very much when someone from your past comes calling? They have not come to see you... Furthermore..." He smiled softly and shook his head. "Master Ryan is responsible for everyone here, including you... You need to trust that he will take care of you..."<br><br>"Besides..." He chuckled softly. "It is rather obvious, to me at least, that Master Ryan has... A special care for you. Do you really think he would let anything like that happen?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>24-09-2011, 00:23:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The use of his name jolted through him, and he lifted his head, focusing on Lessard. There was a power in the slender man that caught Atticus unawares. Not as heady as Master Ryan’s but still there. In his ragged state, Atticus was all too eager to bow to the whore’s cool control. Atticus; breathing steadied, became more natural as he listened with rapt attention to the level voice. It was not contest between letting himself think and think in tight, agonising, repetitive patterns, or to take what Lessard said as truth, all smooth and simple. He was out of practice at letting another think for him, his thoughts trying to circle back on themselves, see deeper into the facts, try to find the point in the future where he would be betrayed, or tricked, or fouled. <br><br>It took effort to stop that, jerking his mind from those dark, bitter ideas. He rubbed his hand against his covered eye and swallowed again. Did he trust Master Ryan or not? He had never asked too much from him, but for today. Yet was that the Master’s fault? He’d asked if Atticus had wanted the sex, asked if he had wanted the client. There was always an option to say no. A freedom that he didn’t have to give. Offering that choice... it made him not the Mistress of the Briars. He’d had pimps before them both who were not cruel, but neither kind. And he knew Master Ryan wasn’t the type of kind written about in the books Fiona pored over, but it was a better sort, hard and real. <br><br>Did he trust Master Ryan? Atticus lowered his hand and touched his wrist knowing there would be small bruises under his cuffs where he had fought the belts. He had trusted that same morning. Let himself be tied. The knife had scared him, but not much. Did he still trust? He wanted to. He wanted to. For a moment he wished to were Master Ryan sat across from him, but then flinched back from it. No, no he didn’t. It was good that it was Lessard. He needed prospective. <br><br>“You’re right,” he said, his voice still tight but his stutter was under control and his accent had shifted, edging back to his usual smooth upper city inflection. “I know, I just... it startled me. I thought –”<em> I was safe</em>. But he was safe, wasn’t he? The man was talking to Ryan, Cam and Anel. Maybe setting up a ménage. Nothing to do with him. It was fine, it was fine.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>undisclosedtoyou</strong> on <strong>24-09-2011, 02:02:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nosy servants were one of her most useful tools in doing her job.&nbsp; Of course Emma did what was asked, and expected of her, but it was only through listening to the babbling of servant's, that she knew when to take the iniative and prepare things people needed, without having to be told.&nbsp; In this case, it was an aggitated servant girl, who bustled into the kitchen, wringing her hands in a way everyone knew Emma hated; she wasn't one to encourage such useless actions, which showed an easily distraught personality.&nbsp; The servant's name was Lily, and of course she was one of those who fancied themselves in love with one or more of the whores.&nbsp; She wanted to roll her eyes at that, but kept such a distasteful expression from her face.&nbsp; Instead, she listened as the girl went on and on about how her favorite was agitated over something, how she had been walking by the sitting room, and spotted him looking less than cool with Lessard.&nbsp; Emma sighed over this, knowing that if it had been her, that had seen such a scene, she would have already started brewing some of their more calming blends.&nbsp; There was nothing like a nice hot cuppa to soothe whatever was ailing you.&nbsp; <br><br>So snapping out orders that would send the gossiping girls back to work, she, herself, turned to prepare the tea.&nbsp; Knowing that in some cases, the residents preferred her over the...less discrete servants.&nbsp; It didn't take very long for the tea to be done, and a few biscuites to be laid out, before she took the tray herself, and carried it to the sitting room.&nbsp; The tray wasn't light, but she managed her customary knock, before silently entering the room, and setting down the set.&nbsp; Standing ready, since she was the only lady in the room, and would be expected to poor for them.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>28-09-2011, 03:12:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lessard could almost see the cogs slowly turning inside the other man's head as he steepled his fingers together and rested his elbows upon the table. While he had no idea of the past events leading Atticus to such a state, it was his firm believe that one should never allow themselves to become so out of sorts; especially the bodyguard, the line of defence. "Lou-Atticus..." He chuckled softly, using the more common nickname for the first time since they spoke. "You are a valued member of the House; you do not need myself to tell you that... Nothing untoward will be allowed to happen to you. Master Ryan would not allow it."<br><br>His tone was firm and certain as his gaze was narrowed behind elegant spectacles and the whore released a heavy sigh, shaking his head and allowing a finger to trail idly over the thick, well-used book at the side of the table. "Really... It seems I am the only one to have had a profitable day... But tomorrow always comes, no matter how dark the time before, hm?" Lessard nodded, allowing a brief, softer smile to come to his features before he heard the footsteps moving towards them and he sighed loudly in pleasure, leaning back and gesturing to himself and Atticus.<br><br>"Ah, Emma... Wonderful timing. Tea is as good-a salve as any against internal injuries, don't you think...?" He nodded and waited for the hot liquid to be poured before inclining his head. "Thank you, dear..." He said quietly, glancing back to Atticus; he had it in mind to ask the woman to join them, but owing to the delicate nature of their conversation, he would leave the choice up to the bodyguard.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>30-09-2011, 04:50:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atticus couldn’t help but smile a little when Lessard steepled his fingers, much like Master Ryan when interviewing clients. It was a familiar, almost comforting gesture. His smile faded after a moment and his lips pressed together, paling them. “I know, I know I should trust him more. I try to.” Sometimes it was easy to just shut his eyes and obey, just think of nothing but the Master. It was what he had done that morning. Doing that was only simple when Master Ryan was there, his presence undeniable.&nbsp; When not near, Atticus’ faith was eroded, by his own fears. <br><br>Weak. <br><br>His musing were jolted as the Housekeeper, the sweet-faced Emma, entered with a tea tray. Tea wasn’t exactly what he waned, and he felt a sullen pang that Master Ryan didn’t advocate opium. He craved a hookah to lay his knotted nerves to rest, but it was not to be. He nodded to her. “It would be much appreciated.” <br><br>Feeling unwilling to bare himself to an audience, he straightened and tried to draw his scattered calm back into himself. “I heard there was to be a lineup in a short while. I do wonder at the number of new clients we’ve had through our doors today. We must have been mentioned in some scandalous article again.” <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>undisclosedtoyou</strong> on <strong>30-09-2011, 22:00:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Emma, with always a sharp eye, and a quick mind, knew that dawdling was not the best course of action in most situations.&nbsp; So with a pleasant smile, she nodded approvingly at Lessard, and poured the tea with a steady hand.&nbsp; It didn't take a genius to remember everyone's preferences, so she made very short work of doctering each cup to the drinkers tastes, before curtsying, and backing away.&nbsp; She did pause at the door for a moment before leaving, in recognising Atticus' words with a reply of her own.<br><br>"<strong>The popularity of this esteemed tea house is especially pleasing, yes.&nbsp; If you wish to watch the proceeding lineup, it should be starting...</strong>"&nbsp; Here she paused, and glanced at her pocket watch.&nbsp; "<strong>In several minutes.&nbsp; I shall leave you to your drinks now, gentlemen.&nbsp; If you should be in need of anything else, please feel free to call for me personally.</strong>"&nbsp; She paused once more, before dropping her voice to a lower level.<br><br>"<strong>And if you should be in need of something a bit stronger than tea, you'll find the extra pot to hold a bit of brandy.</strong>"&nbsp; Her hands worked to smooth out a few invisible wrinkles in her apron, before sniffing, sending them a small wink, and slipping out of the room to get back to work.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>11-10-2011, 15:31:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The whore sighed softly at the clear (at least to him) so,what negative reaction to simple tea, reaching for his own cup with a delicate grip to sip lightly at the hot drink, licking his lips afterwards with a slightly forced chuckle. "Ahh, but scandalous articles are surely rather perfect for the House, don't you think? Rather wonderful publicity..." He nodded thoughtfully, then glanced back to Emma with a small smile and a light bow of the head, trailing a finger around the rim of the cup, humming thoughtfully.<br><br>"Thank you for the tea, dear... And indeed the brandy. I'm sure it will be appreciated, hm, Louis?" He winked across at the bodyguard, watching as the serving girl left them once again before he busied himself for a moment with cleaning his spectacles, sliding them slowly upon his nose once done and nudging the brandy towards Atticus. "It seems like you will be needing this, though I would think getting into a drunken stupor will do little to help in the long run... A little helping hand is never a negative, hm?"<br><br>Lessard sipped again at the tea, sighing softly at the pleasant taste and tucking a rogue strand of dark hair behind his ear. "If I may be so bold as to suggest you address your concerns with Master Ryan? I am certain he would do his best to ensure you were comfortable... Among other things..." He smiled knowingly. "You will find, I'm sure, that you are fretting about nothing... This House is safe, Louis."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>14-10-2011, 00:50:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“Thank you, Emma,” Atticus murmured with a small nod at the reminder of the time. Perhaps the line up was for that man. He would have to keep an eye on who he sequester in case something untoward happened. Like with Anel. Pox rot it all, he was no good to anyone falling to pieces. Being distracted. His gaze tracked Emma as she left, then looked at the second, laced pot as Lessard nudged it towards him. <br><br>It would easier if he drank it. Worries would soften and his mind wouldn’t work so hard. For a while everything would seem better. He’d never been much of a drinker, the allure ruined by the gin habit of his first pimp. He was a slave to different pleasures. A little help would be appreciated, but Atticus had never learned when to stop. “I think not,” he said after a moment, picking up his teacup. He took a sip, then pulled off a glove to add a squeeze of lemon to it. “I fear I am not very good with letting a little help stay but a little.” <br><br>He pulled off his other glove and curled both hands around the fragile cup. “I wish I could share such confidence. These past months have been a pleasure to live.” He snorted and smirked darkly. “A dream. Well, here’s to waking up.” He lifted to cup to his lips and drank the steaming liquid. “I do appreciate your advice and your company, Lessard, but please. ‘Atticus.’” It was not said harshly, rather distractedly. It wasn’t that he disliked his given name, simply that Atticus was more familiar to his ear.&nbsp; “Thank you, for listening, and for being a sane voice.” He was still unbalanced, but felt less like the world was crumbling. Master Bl – <em>Mister Blithe</em> was not taking tea with Master Ryan. It was someone else. It wasn’t him, so why was he acting as if it was. Idiot.&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>minerva7790</strong> on <strong>16-10-2011, 11:18:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=98126.msg5203525#msg5203525">Quote from: Marguerite on 13-09-2011, 18:01:00</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Rubee glanced down at the log book, making sure the last cent of money was accounted for; no more making mistakes like the last accountant. She did not want to cross Master Ryan and knowing what the good-for-nothing accountant would face put a smile on Rubee's face. At the last glance with her satisfaction, Rubee took her log book and headed back out into the main. Usually, there were some clients around, but Rubee spent the last few hours in her log book and trying to figure out a new way to save up her finances for a nice visit to Santiago's grave. His birthday was coming up and while the grave would not be at an actual cemetery with a headstone, but instead, the ocean, she would make due to pay him some flowers. His body might be somewhere down in the depths of the ocean, but he was still the father to her...baby. Rubee kept her rage under control as she glanced up and noticed Cameron with an unknown female.<br><br>"Welcome to the Teahouse," Rubee answered in kind, coming around from the desk to greet the new client. Quickly, Rubee looked over and frowned, "Do you require a doctor?" Rubee noticed the small limp in the female and hoped she had not fallen inside the Teahouse. It would not be good if the female client came back around to demand free services unless she wanted to tell the world the Teahouse was an unsafe environment. Master Ryan would not approve of such tactics, but Rubee did not doubt he would find a way to shut the woman up. For now, she pasted on a warm smile and walked over to the pair. "Let me have a servant bring you some ice water and you can inform me what you want to see in a Teahouse worker tonight."<br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>Charlotte followed Cameron with heart pounding, not sure what to make of the man's comment that the brothel employed both males and females to satisfy their clients. What urges did Charles send her here to have satisfied? And how did Charles know of this place anyway? An image of her tall, suave brother in bed with some unknown lady came to Charlotte's mind, and her face turned red as a beetroot once more. Fixing her eyes on Cameron's boots as he led the way, Charlotte firmly pushed that image from her mind and concentrated on trying not to limp too much. <br><br>She nearly walked into Cameron's back when the man stopped at their destination. Finally looking up shyly, Charlotte found herself staring at a fair lady with hair as flaming red as her name suggested. Mersmerised, Charlotte only turned her eyes away demurely when the woman addressed her directly. She shook her head firmly when Rubee asked her if she needed a doctor, not wanting to draw any more attention to that embarrassing fall. "Cameron here took good care of it for me," she replied, smiling warmly at the man. Too late, she realised that having a doctor see to her meant less awkward time with a Teahouse employee. Charlotte began to blush again as she recalled Cameron's words about satisfying urges. She took a deep breath, then another, her hands clasping and unclasping in their nervousness. Well, since she didn't have a carriage until dawn, she was essentially stuck here for the night. And since she was stuck here, she was going to have to explain herself sooner or later. <em>Better sooner than later,</em> she decided.<br><br>"Well... Actually... I don't really know why I'm here... I... I think it's my brother Charles' idea of a joke, to send me here on my 17th birthday..." she mumbled, not daring to look up at Rubee or Cameron. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>01-11-2011, 18:25:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lessard blinked slowly and arched a slender eyebrow with an elegant shrug at the alcohol was declined, smiling gently with a faint chuckle; one of companionship rather than humour. "Ahh, I understand... Well tea is just as pleasant." He lifted a hand to delicately place a spoonful of sugar into his own cup, stirring it for a time before placing the silverware back upon the tray. <br><br>"A dream?" He chuckled once again, shaking his head. "Ahh, if this were a dream I'd wager things would be very different... But its a pleasant enough thought. I'll indulge it." He winked across the table, lifting his cup to his lips and taking a small sigh with a heavy sigh before he crossed his legs neatly and rested it upon his lap, one hand gripping the cup gently. The other lifted to fiddle idly with his spectacles as he often did, blinking slowly as the name was corrected, nodding in a humble manner. "Oh, of course. My apologies... I have a bad habit of sticking rigidly to names... But as you like, Atticus." Again, he sipped at the tea, closing his eyes in contemplation for several long moments before finally he spoke again.<br><br>"I understand that I know little of your circumstances, but why do you not simply address the issue with Master Ryan directly? We should all feel safe in this House; it is our home as well as our workplace... And I am certain you would not be frowned upon for voicing your discomfort..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>13-11-2011, 00:42:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atticus swallowed a mouthful of the pleasantly hot tea, and smiled, an eyebrow witching up to make the amused expression turn self-mocking. “I just have boring dreams.” He looked at Lessard for a moment, a question balanced on his tongue. What was his dreams? What did he crave the future to bear? It was too intimate a question, and Atticus wasn’t willing to share his own. He dropped his single-eyed gaze to the teapots and reached for the untainted pot, refilling his cup.<br><br>The guard offered a flashed smile as Lessard consented to use his alias. Atticus. For Atlas. One of his clients had chosen it, the first who had said he needed a safe word. It was from some antiquated myth of a giant who tried to hold up the sky. Use it when there is too much to bear... it had stuck with him and had been inked into his flesh at one particular House, where they did not use their given names but used safe words in their place. That had been the Pain House he’d been in just before the Briars. Owned by tawny skinned foreigners, the air had been blue with opium. <br><br><em>"I understand that I know little of your circumstances, but why do you not simply address the issue with Master Ryan directly? We should all feel safe in this House; it is our home as well as our workplace... And I am certain you would not be frowned upon for voicing your discomfort..."</em><br><br>“Perhaps,” He said slowly. “If there is a quiet moment and he is not in a bad temper. I do feel now that I’m somewhat... overwrought today.” It wasn’t the first bad day he’d had, but he’d not had terrors like that since his first month here. “I have no desire to lead the Master to think I can’t do the work.”&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>22-11-2011, 17:04:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lessard nodded simply as Atticus replied, being content to sip at his tea in the dignified manner that came so naturally to him, the hand not upon the teacup reaching to idly run through long dark hair, a thoughtful hum passing between his lips. "Nothing I have seen, or not seen, of you so far has made me think you unreliable. Stubborn, yes... But certainly not unreliable." There was a kindness to the smile that graced his features then and he sighed softly, resting the cup upon his folded knee as he looked aimlessly around the room; strangely quiet for an evening.<br><br>"I wonder if clients will filter through the doors any time soon. This place is much better without the silence and stillness, don't you agree?" He chuckled to himself, his gaze shifting to the small book he had been writing in before the bodyguard's presence. "I suppose it is simpler for you though; when there are fewer people to be weary of? It must be difficult to maintain your focus with so many rooms and workers..." Lessard idly flicked open his book, flipping through pages until he came upon his notes of the people who lived in the house. It was a habit he had long-since gotten into, and he tapped Atticus' name thoughtfully.<br><br>"You are the only person I have less than a page for..." He mused, lifting his gaze to peer through elegant spectacles, looking rather intently at the other man. "I need to remedy that. You seem, after all, like a rather interesting person... Perhaps we should talk more..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nadir</strong> on <strong>02-01-2012, 04:45:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The guard looked at Lessard for a moment when the man called him stubborn, then he smiled and gave a snort of laugher. "I've heard that its a trait of mine before. I don't see it as negative." His voice carried a pleasant hum of amusement and his smile didn't vanish or fade away as the whore kept talking. Atticus leaned back against the cushion of the chair and nodded at the statement. "I should think so. There must be a play on at the Raptures, the carriages always block the streets. And I suppose I'd agree with you. It would be easier if there were none, but... it would be unspeakably dull." And it would give him something to focus on. Idleness didn't suit Atticus one bit. <br><br>His attention was brought to the little notebook Lessard was flicking through, and felt his brows lift. "You write about us?" It was surprising and made Atticus a little uncomfortable. Not so uncomfortable as the knight had, not by a long way, but it was disquieting how people had a habit of watching him. "What things have you written already?" Atticus asked after a brief pause, his curiosity over-riding his discomfort. <br><br>There was a sudden busy sound outside, a low murmur of voices, a deep and gruff voice of a man he didn't recognise responding to one of the servants. "I think a guest has arrived," he murmured, putting down his empty cup.&nbsp; <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Suiko</strong> on <strong>03-01-2012, 22:35:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lessard smiled softly and continued to sip at his tea, sighing softly as the pleasant drink was finished, it resting upon the saucer with a small click. "Ahh... Indeed, indeed..." He hummed softly, tilting his head to one side, a small smile upon his features. "Stubbornness can be pleasant, and you, Atticus, are more than pleasant." He chuckled quietly and inclined his head, lifting a slender eyebrow.<br><br>"Hmm? My book?" He smiled knowingly and winked, pushing his spectacles up his nose with his middle finger before he flicked open the small book and turned several pages, tapping one finally. "Perhaps I could tell you a little of what I've written..." He commented, looking down at his own words to read them. "Atticus seems quiet, extremely perceptive... I'd like to get to know him better. Perhaps over tea?" Lessard chuckled and nodded towards the tea before them.<br><br>"Quite nice, don't you think...?" He blinked then, as the noise came from the main entrance, turning curiously in the direction with a small nod. "Ah, indeed... Perhaps I should go and greet them if Master Ryan is busy?" He sighed quietly and rose to his feet, tucking his book into the pocket of his dark maroon jacket, bowing his head lightly. "Don't fret; I will handle this... You need to calm yourself a little, Atticus..." He turned and moved towards the entrance into the hall, pausing to look over his shoulder.<br><br>"Oh, and... We should do this again sometime." With that, Lessard moved to the double doors of the main entrance and cleared his throat, tilting his head to see just who the new guest was...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Teahouse. - Ground Floor.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saku</strong> on <strong>11-01-2012, 20:36:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">Of course he could get anyone he wanted with money but that was the problem. He didn't know if they wanted him or his wealth which made him rather sad. Not to mention the fact that he preferred men over women which made it even more difficult to track down someone he wanted to go out with. Perhaps this was the reason why he found himself heading for a particularly popular brothel in the inner parts of the city in Ivore. From what he'd heard from those who worked at his company and from the executives themselves, the Teahouse was a place where heaven could be reached. That rumor alone had managed to catch his interest.<br><br>Ryu emerged from the carriage that had brought him to the brothel and gingerly stepped out of the contraption. He let his fingers come up to run over the length of silk that his scarf was made of and stifled a yawn as he headed for the door. The red haired male opened it and entered the Teahouse, letting the door close by itself behind him as jade eyes flickered over the interior of the place. He didn't see anyone around at the moment but the brothel looked quite lovely even with the absence of people. However, he hoped that didn't mean the whores were absent as well, for such a thing would not be professional in his opinion.<br><br>(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v376/nemaatkd/redhairnoir-1.jpg)<br><br>After all, what sort of place advertised the use of whores if said whores were not even present when a customer paid a visit? He declined to take a seat in the waiting area for they appeared to be dusty as if they hadn't been used in quite some time. Not to mention the fact that the chairs provided were not of the highest quality which made his nose wrinkle. "The Teahouse..." He murmured, his voice bell-like with a touch of smooth honey, neither too high nor too low but if one had to pick it would have been the former. Ryu wondered why this particular brothel was so popular, could it be because of the whores or the decor?<br><br>Or was there something else that was he missing about the place? Something that would only become apparent once he had used the service? "Is anyone here?" He called out, waiting for an answering response. Maybe they were here but were otherwise occupied at the moment.</span>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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