The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Cecilia on 30-08-2010, 23:26:22</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cecilia</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 23:26:22</strong>
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				Abigail Waltham grasped the edge of the table to steady herself as the newly christened&nbsp; Megalodon&nbsp; dropped altitude at an alarming, and wholly unexpected rate.&nbsp; &nbsp; As the ship corrected and righted itself, she looked up to see the dangerous sway of the large crystal candelabra and jumped out of the way just as it crashed down onto the sofa she had just been sitting upon.<br>&nbsp; <br>Her father, sitting opposite her on a large wing-back chair stared at the chandelier in open shock while the other gentleman, Chance Hunter, sprung to his feet and reached for the lovely Abigail with concern on his face.&nbsp; <br><br>“My dear Abigail,” he said, as she brushed away his seemingly well-intentioned hands, “Are you all right?”&nbsp; His eyes were wide and his face had drained of all its color. <br><br>Everyone stared at the chandelier and the bits of sofa underneath with the understanding that Abigail would most certainly have been killed had she not been paying close attention in time.<br><br>“I am, quite all right, Chance,” she said firmly as she&nbsp; straightened her skirt.&nbsp; “You see father?&nbsp; How can all these crazy happenings be mere coincidence? “<br>Her father had stood by this point and was heading to the door, “My dear, I must see what has happened that caused the ship to lose altitude like that.&nbsp; I don’t see how these isolated incidents you’ve recounted could possibly be related to this.”<br><br>Chance smiled apologetically as he followed his master out the door, leaving Abigail alone to ponder the broken chandelier and sofa.&nbsp; She was more than happy for Chance to be out of the room.&nbsp; His servile attitude around her father was more than merely ingratiating, and she was all too aware of his amorous attentions in her direction.&nbsp; She shuddered at the thought of his pasty skin pressed against her own.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her father had been pushing her to consider him as a suitor, but, other than the fact he was quite the technical genius, she found nothing of quality in him.&nbsp; There was certainly nothing about him that made her heart beat fast or her body warm at the thought of being near him.&nbsp; She wiped at where his moist hands had touched her and cleared him from her mind.<br><br>She rang the bell for the cabin steward so that he might clean up the mess and attend to repairs.&nbsp; Before he could come though, she set about to examine the chandelier.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she expected, there were some rather rough marks around the loop connecting the chandelier to the ceiling.&nbsp; She was certain a file must have been used to weaken the metal holding the weight of the chandelier.&nbsp; She unscrewed the finial at the top and put it in her pocket.<br><br>It was time to find that man that she’d heard about several months before.&nbsp; Abigail wrote everything down and locked her journal away in her desk drawer.&nbsp; She opened the small pocket on the outside of her corset and pulled out a tiny ornate golden key and placed it in the lock on her desk.&nbsp; &nbsp;Finding her journal she flipped back to the day of the Colonel’s summer party.&nbsp; Abigail distinctly remembered the event.&nbsp; She had hidden behind a large palm frond as the Colonel and his steward argued about something.&nbsp; The Colonel had said “it was a matter of life and death…” and sent the steward off with a note….She scanned the lines of her own fevered writing until she found the man the Colonel seemed to trust with matters of import.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 09:24:25</strong>
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				Blake Hollowfield sat at his work desk, the components of his latest gun spread out orderly. The glinting metal, brand new, freshly cleaned and newly oiled, was ready to be assembled into the lethal looking contraption that would be his newest sidearm. With diligent fingers, he set to work, connecting part of part, clicking everything together, till he formed a four-barrelled, large revolver shaped gun. Like this, the gun was impressive, the four barrels revolving. Each barrel had a bullet chamber and magazine for ten rounds, all worked into the stylishly carved handle. That was not all, but the revolving barrels could generate a magnetic burst, sending forth a pulse of kinetic energy every time it had generated enough power.<br><br>Looking at his handiwork, it was handmade by himself after all, he felt quite satisfied with his work. He thumbed a button on the handle, and the four, still revolving, barrels clicked together, into one, thick barrel, divided in four, no longer cycling. This way, the gun took a lot less place, and easily fitted into the holder he wore on&nbsp; his left hip.<br><br>As he stood, he felt the weight settle, even as he took a few steps to get better used to it. This would be comfortable after a bit of practice, as it was definitely a lot heavier than his previous sidearm. But at ten times more firepower, that was a small price to pay. <br><br>He walked over when he heard his mailbox creaking, opening the lid and taking out the delivered mail. Of course, it was bill after bill, a few commercial magazines and a letter. Interesting. He wasn’t really into the social networking, preferring to stick to himself and just do the job he enjoyed doing. Blake wondered what the letter was about. Only one way to find out.<br><br>Reading the contents while sitting in his fauteuil, he let the words sink into his mind, the facts rushing through his head, drawing all possible connections, the suggestions of the girl writing him and the ramifications should he start working. If her suspicions were correct, then this had written corporate espionage and sabotage all over it. And generally, he liked to avoid those things. Going up against people with such money and power and the messiness they could afford to orchestrate and cover up, was a dangerous business.<br><br>Then again, he loved danger. And the suspicious, fiery little damsel in distress had its appeal, too. <br><br>Then again, he couldn’t blame her suspicions. Starting out with wrong fuel deliveries, making the engines unstable of the large airships, wrong gas deliveries that degraded the quality of the zeppelin like parts of the luxury liners, inconvenient accidents with fatal end for some of the maintenance crew workers and now, actual trouble while in flight that might just as well have been lethal if not for quick reflexes. By themselves, each fact could be consider coincidence and an accident, but all of them together, especially combined with the steadily decreasing time intervals, was a sign of worry.<br><br>And the one thing he had learned as a private investigator, was that coincidence didn’t exist…<br><br>So he wrote a letter in return, sending it off an hour later, detailing where to meet her, at the café a block north of Central Square Clock Tower, the following day at noon and that he would be having a red feather sticking from his breast pocket. He wondered if she would come… and if she could pay his fees.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cecilia</strong> on <strong>02-09-2010, 01:45:23</strong>
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				She joined her father on the flight deck after she was certain her own quarters were cleaned up.&nbsp; Her jaw worked in consternation as she heard her father, once again, make excuses for why various things had been happening.&nbsp; She pulled him aside to suggest that all the things that had happened recently could not be mere coincidence.&nbsp; His patronizing attitude only made her angrier.<br><br>"Chance," he said, "Come explain to my daughter how things just sometimes happen.&nbsp; She seems to think someone is out to get Waltham and Co."<br><br>Chance looked up from the dark bronze box he was poking a tool into and raised his eyebrows.&nbsp; "Actually, sir," he said, "Abigail has a sound head on her shoulders.&nbsp; Perhaps her concerns have merit."<br><br>Abigail was at first startled that Chance could possibly agree with her and then skepticism rode in.&nbsp; He was still trying to woo her, and he would stoop to agreeing with her just to get her interested in him.&nbsp; She would, however, take any allies she could at this point.&nbsp; Something stopped her, however, from mentioning Blake Hollowfield to either her father or his lackey.<br><br>Her father simply chortled and said, "Nonsense, Chance.&nbsp; We've merely had a string of bad luck recently."&nbsp; He glared at the two of them and strode away.&nbsp; <br><br>Chance shrugged his shoulders and paused in his search.&nbsp; He reached inside and pulled out an errant piece of metal and held it up.&nbsp; "Well...that doesn't belong here.&nbsp; My dear Abigail,&nbsp; look at this."&nbsp; He held it out in the palm of his hand and explained the intricate mechanism that controlled the elevation rudders on the airship.&nbsp; "This little cog could very well have bunged things up."&nbsp; <br><br>"Thank you, Chance, " she said with some degree of difficulty.&nbsp; Thanking that man for anything was rather disagreeable at best.&nbsp; Abigail smiled and took the item from his hand and put it in her pocket.&nbsp; "I'll add it to my increasing pile of evidence.&nbsp; Father will believe me...I just hope that no one gets hurt until he does." <br><br>Abigail was much relieved to get Mr. Hollowfield's response when she returned to her quarters.&nbsp; She was lucky that her schedule was free and no one would suspect anything if she ducked out in the mid morning to have luncheon with a friend.&nbsp; <br><br>In the morning, she dressed casually in a day dress that would draw no attention.&nbsp; She took a taxi within a block of the meeting place and walked through her favorite dress shop and out its back before heading north to the small cafe.&nbsp; She knew it, had been there even.&nbsp; It would not be terribly unusual for her to be there even without her meeting with Mr. Hollowfield.&nbsp; As she entered the shop she glanced casually around the room looking for a man with a red feather sticking from his breast pocket.&nbsp; <br><br>At first, she wasn't quite certain that this could be the man she'd only heard of.&nbsp; &nbsp;She looked around the room again, though, and finding no on else to meet the description, she moved quietly to the table and handed him her gilt lettered calling card, "I believe you are waiting for me?"<br><br>This prevented any need of hers to say her name aloud.&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>09-09-2010, 19:55:41</strong>
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				Granted, a red feather sticking from a breast pocket wasn’t his brightest idea to date, but Blake felt convinced he wouldn’t stand out too much when he surveyed himself in the mirror. As a matter of fact, the red feather with the faintest hint of gold gave just that bit of eccentricity that he liked to showcase. It made people believe he was one of those that believed in phoenixes of all things. <br><br>The rest of his appearance was rather sober. Good quality reigned, with a black leather jacket that fell to just above his knees. Dark cotton pants, held up by his dark brown leather gunbelt. The holster for the gun was conveniently hidden under the part of his coat below the waist, where it flared slightly out. A silk white shirt, mostly covered by a black, sleeveless vest. The silver chain of the rather common and fashionable pocket watch dangled from his breast pocket. <br><br>Blake himself was rather presentable. Not that he cared much for his looks. The only thing he did care about was how he could use them for his job. He could be considered handsome, with a strong jaw, a slightly sharp nose and very deep, nearly black eyes that seemed to draw people in. Yet, he was not handsome enough to constantly draw attention to himself, a fact that he liked very much. He could easily take on a high profile position or slink about in the shadows. A messy mop of near black hair, short, yet not very neat, rather roguish in fact, completed the image.<br><br>Minutes later, a little time ahead of the scheduled meeting, he arrived at the café. Taking a place not too out of view, where the din of the other customers would nicely cover up there own discussion, he sat down and made his order. They had great tea here. Taking a sip, he noticed the lady in question entering the premises just in time, from the corner of his eye. <br><br>He could safely say he would take the job based on her looks alone. She was splendid, highly attractive, especially with the stylish red hair. The day dress emphasised the nice body underneath. As he wondered what she really wanted him to do, a list of rather lecherous possibilities entered his mind. Though, as she approached him, he kept his face schooled in a calm expression.<br><br>“I rather believe I did”, he replied smoothly, getting up from his seat, stepping around the small round table and drawing back a chair for the young woman. “Take a seat. It seems we have a lot to discuss this noon. And perhaps we could enjoy a small meal together, as well. I suddenly find my appetite has found inspiration.”<br><br>His tone was slightly flirtatious, though not too openly to be presumed unprofessional. He fell easily into the role of the gentleman, waiting for her to take her seat before he sat down himself. <br><br>“I’ve thought over the problem you brought to my attention”, he started, waving a waiter closer to take her order, too. When the man came within hearing range, his tone became a lot more flirtatious, even as he winked almost playfully to show her he was acting… or was he. “I find myself much interested in your attractive proposal, certainly from a lady as lovely as you. Just tell me how I can service you best.”<br><br>He trailed of suggestively, while the waiter inquired what she wanted to drink and if they would be partaking in a meal.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cecilia</strong> on <strong>11-09-2010, 02:26:22</strong>
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				Abigail kept her face still and calm as she looked him over.&nbsp; He wasn't as good looking or debonair as half her suitors.&nbsp; But, his eyes sparkled with intelligence and humor, two traits so many men seemed to lack.&nbsp; His appearance might need a bit of finessing, but she had no doubt the rough edges would be easily tamed for whatever time necessary.&nbsp; No doubt he would require some fees up front.&nbsp; She had come prepared to bargain as necessary, but she could well afford to give him enough money for a new wardrobe if he needed it to fit in.&nbsp; She wondered what 'cover' he might suggest. Perhaps a valet?&nbsp; Or a butler?<br><br>She didn't answer his question right away, but ordered a sandwich and bowl of soup from the waiter.&nbsp; As he took their order, she removed her gloves, folded them neatly and placed them on the table next to the small vase of violets that adorned the table.<br><br>Once the waiter left, she said, "Mr. Hollowfield," she said at last, "our mutual friend said that you have a way of...figuring things out.&nbsp; Give you a puzzle with pieces missing and you can usually find them, or fashion them from the pieces that are there, so to speak."<br><br>Her long fingers emphasized her words as they waved about and then interlocked.&nbsp; The multiple bracelets on her thin, delicate wrists jangled and twinkled in the gas light off the wall sconces.&nbsp; Even in the middle of the day, the restaurant interior required light the sun did not provide.<br><br>"I have many pieces.&nbsp; And some suspicions.&nbsp; However, I am not quite able to seek out them all without drawing attention to myself.&nbsp; I thought that, perhaps, you could...do the necessary research without drawing suspicion," she said.<br><br>She breathed in deeply, the cameo at the swell of her breast moved up and down with her sigh.&nbsp; "My father is all to trusting of everyone he employs.&nbsp; He can't think anything ill of any of them.&nbsp; I on the other hand, am his daughter.&nbsp; As capable as I am, he won't see it.&nbsp; I understand as much about the inner workings as anyone possibly can, and yet, I can't prove anything beyond a shadow of a doubt.&nbsp; &nbsp;There is a traitor aboard, Mr. Hollowfield.&nbsp; OF that I am certain."<br><br>She paused as the waiter set a bowl of steaming tomato basil soup in front of her.&nbsp; She picked up the large spoon and stirred the soup, cooling it.&nbsp; <br><br>As the waiter departed, she said,&nbsp; "I daresay, Mr. Hollowfield, I am hoping you can find the very things that remain hidden from me."
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>16-09-2010, 20:29:41</strong>
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				<br>She sounded so convinced, he just had to believe her. Anyone sitting in his chair, seeing this passionate woman proclaiming her beliefs, her logic and her rationalisations. Even though he didn’t care about the actual validity of her claims, as it was about the job and the money for him, he felt his curiosity grow. Maybe that was what he needed to get a bit of interest in his job again. A good old fashioned mystery to wet his appetite. He had lost his spirit for the job, as case after case always ended up being about a spurned spouse and the dirty little secrets of every family. But this had the makings of a good espionage thriller.<br><br>She seemed to brush over his rather flirtatious approach with her superior air. An air she wore well, with her delicate, aristocratic features and the born grace of those that appeared to be nobility. <br><br>“You came to the right address then, my Lady”, he replied, switching to a more suave personality, which she might be more appreciative off. “This is just my kind of thing and provided with a good fee, I will find out what is really going on. For a surplus, I’ll even help you deal with it, unless you prefer the more personal touch or decide to step to the authorities with my findings. Still, I’ll have to warn you if that is your choice, as usually this level of business is buried in money, which keeps eyes turned away.”<br><br>He shifted in his seat, leaning closer, giving off the appearance of a lover about to share something more intimate. Public appearances were very important in his job. <br><br>“I offer the following entry for the start of my employ. In a day or two, you may present the idea to your father to introduce your new beau at the following dinner. I think you should make it appear a serious affair. It will give me the cover necessary to move about unobstructed and the authority to talk my way out of any situation. I found subservient roles make it hard to move about, as households tend to know who belongs where…”<br><br>He sat back, watching her reaction to his daring proposal. He knew the need to keep up appearances would force the proper girl to do things she might not want to do with a stranger. And that was without knowing about his rather royal fees.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cecilia</strong> on <strong>18-09-2010, 23:58:07</strong>
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				Abigail was expecting to pay a high fee, though she wasn't entirely sure what that all would entail.&nbsp; She had her own budget for incidentals, and she was certain that the cost of an average ball gown would probably do.&nbsp; She was certain information from the company was being leaked to make these accidents so easy.&nbsp; <br><br>As he leaned forward to propose that she introduce him as her new beau, she was so shocked, she was unable to slap him for his impudence.&nbsp; She felt the slow blush creep across her face and she blinked at him slowly and in silence as he sat back in his chair, trying to look as though she were simply considering his proposal.&nbsp; She looked away for a second and at the people in the room around her to gain composure.&nbsp; <br><br>She finally laughed a silent shocked sort of laugh and said,"Mr. Hollowfield...one doesn't simply bring home a beau in my circle.&nbsp; We'd have to be formally 'introduced.'&nbsp; And in public.&nbsp; If I simply showed up with you, my father would send you out with a quick kick of his leather booted foot.&nbsp; His right-hand man, Chance, would find a way to publicly humiliate you because Chance feels like we are already engaged."<br><br>But the idea was sinking in and she held up a hand, a long single index finger raised above the rest,&nbsp; and closed her eyes to indicate she was thinking.&nbsp; Her lips turned up in a smile as she conjured a plan that would probably work, and giggled at the serendipitous nature of life.<br><br>Her eyes flew open brightly and she leaned forward,"Swarthmore Harrington is bringing out his lovely Clara this coming weekend.&nbsp; I believe you'd find no trouble getting an invitation to the ball.&nbsp; It would be natural, in the course of the evening, for us to dance and get to know each other.&nbsp; I'll ensure that Chance doesn't fill my dance card."<br><br>Swarthmore Harrington, it turned out, was the very same 'mutual acquaintance' that had mentioned Blake to Abigail in the first place.&nbsp; She hadn't told him anything about hiring him, and she was certain that Blake could get into the ball without mentioning he had heard of Abigail.&nbsp; It seemed like a plan to her.<br><br>"What do you think, Mr. Hollowfield?&nbsp; A pretend chance meeting, in front of my father and his tool...it seems like a perfect set-up to me.&nbsp; They can watch as you pretend to sweep me off my feet!" she said.&nbsp; At the same moment, she realized how different this scenario was than if she'd simply employed a new valet.&nbsp; A different part of her was appraising him in a very different light indeed.&nbsp; The blush that had started moments ago, simply brightened under her gaze.<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>23-09-2010, 16:36:51</strong>
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				He could see the emotions flitting over her face. Her cheeks coloured red under his very gaze. The classy woman with the quick tongue was shocked to silence. She was staring at him, speechless. Reading her body language, he could see she would have slapped him for his impudence, if not for the shock debilitating her completely. The sound she eventually made, that of laughter after a shock, was quite appealing and brought a smile to his own lips, a genuine one this time, as she started babbling her answer.<br><br>At first, it seemed like a rejection of the idea, but he could see that his forthright way of bringing forward his idea had rooted it into her mind. Already, even while she was babbling some sort of excuse, he could see the planted idea blossoming to life. A slender finger was held up, followed by the most delightful giggle, that of a sheltered, aristocratic, young woman. <br><br>Mentally, he was taking note about her connection to Swarthmore, a man for which he did jobs regularly, and the way she talked about this ‘Chance’ fellow. Her voice was a mixture of distasteful and annoyed when he became the subject. With his keen intellect, he could see where her plan was going and he had to admit to himself, she worked out his initial idea very well. If circumstances had been different, he would offer her a job as his assistant. Yet, he liked to work solo.<br><br>He grinned charmingly at her growing blush as he could feel her eyes on him. “My lady, I will more than pretend. I can promise you, by the end of the weekend, everyone will know I swept you of your feet. I have no doubt of that.” He sounded sure, confident. He wasn’t full of himself, but he knew the limits of his abilities and his strengths. Acting in such a role was something he had great skill in. Perhaps not in a full relation, but charming girls and women was a talent he had greatly developed over the years.<br><br>He stood up, having finished his meal and the discussion about the new job. To give her confidence in her own plan, he slipped gracefully in the role he would take on this weekend. Standing close to her, he grasped her hand, gently, her fingers in his hold, as he lifted her hand while he bowed slightly. Brushing a faint kiss, the barest hint of a teasing touch of full male lips to a delicate female hand and sensitive skin, he whispered, “My lady, I will take my leave now. I shall see you this weekend. Charmed to make your acquaintance. This is only the start of something beautiful, however.”<br><br>With the deft fingers of a pickpocket, another talent fitting for his business, he had slipped a note in her palm unnoticed by any, even her. As he let go of her hand, he stood straight again, giving her one last, seductive, yet appropriate smile. Leaving the café, he wondered about her reaction to his fees. The note contained only that: ‘Fifteen hundred up front, covering the first week. Fifty-five for every additional day.’<br><br>He had a man to see about a favour and an invitation to some uppity coming of age slash introduction party.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cecilia</strong> on <strong>24-09-2010, 22:03:54</strong>
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				Abigail watched the man leave and then took a look at the note.&nbsp; Her eyebrows lifted in high arches momentarily before she laughed out loud.&nbsp; The man had nerve.&nbsp; His rates were a bit higher than she expected, but she hadn't come across as poor or needing financial aid.&nbsp; Her bargaining skills were undercut by the brevity of the situation.&nbsp; When the waiter brought the bill, she laughed again and paid it.&nbsp; He was a piece of work.<br><br>When she left the restaurant, she went to the bank and extracted his advance. She wasn't entirely sure how to give him the advance other than to take it with her to the ball.&nbsp; She didn't trust anyone close to her to deliver it.&nbsp; Instead, she penned another note to him, assuring him she'd have cash on hand at the ball.&nbsp; Given how deftly he had conveyed his bill to her, she was certain he would find a way to remove the cash from her person while they danced.&nbsp; She felt a warm heat raise to her face as she imagined the places she could hide the cash.&nbsp; Fortunately, there were plenty of terraces and potted palms at the Swarthmore's mansion.<br><br>Nothing unusual happened during the next few days.&nbsp; No accidents.&nbsp; Nothing that could be considered remotely out of the ordinary.&nbsp; Abigail knew that a week or more could pass between incidents, and brushed off any doubts as she was dressed.&nbsp; She was certain that having fresh eyes on it would make everything more clear.<br><br>As they arrived at the ball, she joined the other young women for the final finessing of hair and gowns.&nbsp; The maids re-worked a couple of her curls along her bare shoulder and ironed out a wrinkle or two in the back of her gown.&nbsp; She went to the hall and found her father who took her arm and led her to the ballroom.&nbsp; The valet announced their names and they made their way to greet their hosts.<br><br>Abigail hugged her friend and turned her cheeks to the lips of the older man.&nbsp; His whiskers tickled her a they glanced across her cheeks and she smiled brightly up into his eyes.&nbsp; He was someone she knew she could trust.&nbsp; There was something about him that put her completely at ease.&nbsp; <br><br>She tried to keep the obvious impatience off her face as Chance made a beeline in her direction.&nbsp; She said, "One dance, Chance.&nbsp; Just one."&nbsp; She didn't feel a particular need to be kind to him, but she smiled and pretended she was being as flirty with him as she would any regular suitor.<br><br>"Ah...Abigial," Chance said, "I don't like the idea of you dancing with any other fellows."<br><br>She smiled sweetly and said, "Take one or none."&nbsp; She set her eyes sternly on him until he signed his name to a single dance.&nbsp; She sincerely hoped that Blake Hollowfield appeared shortly.&nbsp; It was extremely not proper for her to turn down anyone who approached her for a dance.&nbsp; She decided to walk toward the punch table to reduce the likelihood unknown suitors would approach her.&nbsp; <br><br>Abigial took her punch to a group of young women who tended to be the wall flowers and last to be asked for a dance.&nbsp; She felt a safety in the numbers there.&nbsp; Looking past Mary Grable, she saw her reflection in the mirror.&nbsp; Her tightly fitted bodice was simply decorated with exquisite beadwork.&nbsp; The corset was pulled in snug but not alarmingly tight at her waist.&nbsp; Her white kid gloves contrasted starkly with the velvety dark green of the flowing skirt.&nbsp; The emeralds at her neck were not overly ornate, but the delicate structure of the necklace seemed to accentuate the length of her neck and creaminess of her shoulders. <br><br>She engaged herself in gossipy prattle for as long as she could stand it.&nbsp; Turning away from the small group of women, she turned toward the crowd in general and decided finding her father might be the second safest bet.&nbsp; She saw him across the room talking to a man she'd never met and began to make her way over.&nbsp; She was stopped by men she knew who filled their names in on the card, one taking the first dance.&nbsp; When she reached her father, she had only four dances left that were free and she did her best to not search the room frantically for any sign of Mr. Hollowfield.&nbsp; <br><br>The first dance was called and she found Mr. Thomas Fielding at her elbow.&nbsp; She pressed her gloved hand into his and let herself be swept into the crowd.&nbsp; To any observers, she was just a pretty girl at the ball, having a lovely time with no cares in the world.<br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>28-09-2010, 19:40:55</strong>
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				Back at his home, Blake sat at his desk, contemplating his newest job and the way he was going to work. This time, his daring suggestion had landed him into a high-placed, public position. That posed some problems. The crowd he was going to hang out with was not one to like strangers. They would all use their separate channels and connections to validate his claimed identity. He could hardly pose as a noble, for while skilled, he could not create a high end fake identity in so little time against people with that type of connections and money.<br><br>No, he would have to be himself.<br><br>That posed a second problem. No matter how rebellious Abigail would like to play her new act in conjunction with his own, if he showed up as the low private detective boyfriend, her reputation and that of her family and company would plummet, possibly causing more harm than even her saboteur.<br><br>Sighing, he came to a decision, as he stood up, moving to one of the sole cabinets against his wall that was not lined with books or all kinds of engineering tools and such. Unlocking the door, he took out a long box. It was four feet long, rather thin its side the size of brick. Brushing off some dust, he carried it over to his desk, putting it down in front of him. With a weary sigh of resignation, he clicked the box open.<br><br>-<br><br>Harrington Manor was opulent, built in the latest styles of the Baroque era and it showed. Well maintained marble and brick, statues and columns lined the entire facade. It was quite imposing, daunting even, to be stepping up the marble stairway to the main entrance. With his keen eyes, he took stock of every single other attendee still lingering outside, awhirl in their mindless gossip, their politicking and their backstabbing alliance-forming. Blake really detested the world of money and politics. These nobles and nouveaux rich were the worst kind of people out there. Hiding behind their sophisticated facade, they were manipulators, thieves, killers and the most perverse and tyrannical people on the face of the planet. They only had enough money and status to wash away every trace of it and keep it hidden under tonnes of make up and perfume.<br><br>Entering, he came into the main hall, where a short row of other guests stood waiting for the valet to announce them. Blake stood in line, shuffling slowly forward, the valet’s clear voice announcing to the ballroom every new guest stepping inside. As his turn approached, Blake fingered his collar, a bit nervously, before he steeled himself. He hated this kind of public dog and pony show, hence why his announcement would be a surprise, even to Swarthmore.<br><br>As his turn came up, he handed over his invitation, which he had gotten as a favour from Lord Harrington. The good lord owed him a lot, so, when Blake came with the request of attending the party, as he had let his eyes fall on a lady during one of his jobs, or so he told the man, the Lord was forthcoming enough. He even offered to present Hollowfield as a valued family friend. While a fine gesture in itself, Blake knew it wasn’t enough for what he needed to do, so he had dusted of his most valuable possession and his royal letters of credential, which he now handed over to the valet. The valet recognized the name, obviously instructed by Lord Harrington, but drew up surprised eyebrows at reading the letter, double checking the seal to see if it was real, as he knew of Hollowfield’s occupation. It was real…<br><br>“Now, presenting Sir Blake Hollowfield, Knight of Realm and friend of the Harrington family.”<br><br>Blake could clearly read Swarthmore’s shocked facial expression, before he schooled it after a fake all-knowing smile. The shock was less for the rest of the guests, as a Knight of the Realm wasn’t that high on the pecking order when it came to nobility. However, they carried great and much desired status, as they were the only ones outside of the Earls that had the direct ear of the Queen should they wish so. <br><br>For a moment, Blake’s mind wandered off to the war in which he had earned his Knighthood. Eight years ago, he had been a soldier in the Aerial war between the British ‘Commonwealth’ Empire and the Warlords of Japan in the Far East. He had swiftly risen through the ranks. Others called it through heroism. He thought of it as the good fortune of surviving where most of his battalion didn’t. In the end, with a last daring operation, part of the final battle, he had been rewarded by being knighted by the queen herself. All he remembered was the blood, gore and anguished screams that went with that terrifying war in the outer colonies of the Empire.<br><br>Clearing his mind, he grasped the hilt of his rapier, inlaid with elegant silver and gold and the single ruby that denoted knighthood, before offering a charming smile as he walked into the hall, straight for his friend, even as his eyes scanned the crowd for his real target, the lovely, stunning Abigail whom looked particularly gorgeous tonight. Oh, courting her would be a pleasure. For the occasion, he cut a handsome figure in his well-tailored, elegant clothes, an array of blacks and royal red. Little frills were part of his ensemble, as he was not that ostentatious or opulent. A bit of money and a lot of honor spoke from his stature, however and he hoped he would make an impression on the young lady.<br><br>As he approached Swarthmore, the men shook hands, greeting each other warmly. The Lord seemed pleased, as now his status had gone a bit higher yet, counting a Knight of the Realm as part of his circle, “Thank you for the invitation, my Lord”, Blake spoke, “It is much appreciated.” He let some small talk bring him to the subject he wanted to really talk about. “Now, the lady I was speaking about, I saw her here”, he almost whispered, discretely, before he darted his eyes over to her, drawing Harrington’s attention. “I don’t know her name, but if you could do me another favour, I would greatly appreciate it if you got me a nice amount of slots on her dancecard.”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cecilia</strong> on <strong>02-10-2010, 18:39:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail stepped into the dance with grace and as much elegance as she would anyone, though her heart was not really in it.&nbsp; The man she was with was sweet and boring.&nbsp; He prattled on about something she wouldn't remember in the morning and would pretend she did the next time forced to dance with him.&nbsp; He wasn't serious in his pursuit of her, they both knew this.&nbsp; He took the opportunity to have a beautiful woman in his arms for the passing enjoyment that such diversions carry.&nbsp; <br><br>She had a hard time hearing the announcement of new arrivals at the far end of the room, but the music ended and in the pause between dances she heard the familiar name.&nbsp; At her elbow was her second dance and she was swept off as she tried to piece together his introduction.&nbsp; Sir Blake Hollowfield.&nbsp; She repeated it in her mind several times as she smiled emptily up at the rather handsome man she was dancing with.&nbsp; Sir?&nbsp; Sir?&nbsp; She smiled slowly as she realized his clever plan.&nbsp; She wondered briefly at how he had found the fake credentials to come up with it, but it was marvelous.&nbsp; Her father was easily swayed by titles.<br><br>She relaxed into the dance with...with...Lord Thomas Warring.&nbsp; She ceased searching for Blake Hollowfield.&nbsp; Sir Blake, she corrected herself.&nbsp; She knew her father would be making his way over to introduce himself to the knight and it would be perfectly natural for her to take a pause with the third dance empty on her card.&nbsp; <br><br>But Lord Warring was going on about her eyes, and it was more than a little charming, she had to admit.&nbsp; She put Blake out of her mind to focus on the man she was dancing with.&nbsp; He was, after all, a more likely suitable long term candidate for her prospects.&nbsp; In any other circumstances, she would have used her subtle graces to entice him into selecting another line or two on her card.&nbsp; At the end of the dance, he asked if he might call upon her within the week, she thought nothing of telling him he was more than welcome.&nbsp; <br><br>He guided her to where her father was standing just feet away from Sir Blake.&nbsp; He lifted her hand to his lips and said, "I'm afraid I've promised myself to many other dancers this evening.&nbsp; If only I'd planned my evening differently..."&nbsp; His eyes met hers and she flushed with the intensity of his gaze.&nbsp; <br><br>He deftly relinquished her hand to her father's arm and bowed before disappearing into the crowd to find his next partner.&nbsp; Abigail watched him go with a bit of obvious disappointment.&nbsp; <br><br>Her father patted her hand with his free one and said, "My dear...Come this way.&nbsp; There's someone new that I would like to meet."<br><br>Her father was so predictable.&nbsp; He turned toward the host and Sir Blake Hollowfield.&nbsp; It was time, she decided, to begin the show for her father and others around them.&nbsp; She had deliberately avoided looking at the man until her father guided her in his direction.<br><br>"Swarthmore," her father said, his voice full of his commanding boom.&nbsp; "You didn't tell me you'd made some new friends."<br><br>Swarthmore smiled congenially and dipped his upper body in their direction. "I am a man full of surprises, Waltham." <br><br>&nbsp;He turned to Blake and said, "May I present Conrad Waltham and his lovely daughter, Miss Abigail Waltham...Sir Blake Hollowfield."<br><br>Abigail turned her full attention on Blake, now that they were properly introduced and realized custom dictated she actually curtsy.&nbsp; Her face grew slightly warm as she dipped in an elegant swoop.&nbsp; "Sir Hollowfield," she said.<br><br>She was more than a little taken aback by how well the man had cleaned up.&nbsp; Not that he hadn't been clean before, but now he was entirely presentable and then some.&nbsp; As she returned to her standing position, she held out her gloved hand to him.&nbsp; "It is a pleasure to meet you."<br><br>Abigail smiled brightly and realized that it wouldn't be very hard at all to be swept off her feet by the man before her.&nbsp; She would have to watch herself very closely so that she didn't get carried away and forget that this was all an elaborate ruse. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>04-10-2010, 12:49:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He watched her as she danced, switching partners when the song changed. He watched how she seemed to blossom from veiled sullenness to a blushing young woman full of energy with her second partner. The charming nobleman would spell trouble if she spent too much time in his presence, as they had a ruse to keep up. To be true, they still had to start it. Fortunately, she was very subtle and it was only his skills and experience that allowed him to read her as well as he did.<br><br>It was not long after, before the new dances would start, that her father seemed to take the lull in music to make his move. Blake had noticed how the man was almost eyeing him with a hungry look. He sighed, though he kept up his pleasant mask, demeanour relaxed and carefree, as the man and his daughter approached where Blake was standing next to Swarthmore.<br><br>His friend, who had done such a favour for him, now took the opportunity, definitely recognizing the girl Blake had pointed out as his interest for the evening. When presentations were over, Blake took Abigail’s delicate hand, again admiring her beauty and the way her dress flattered and brought out her gorgeous body. He lifted the hand gently, knuckles up and brushed the faintest kiss over her fingers, a teasing touch of soft, full lips the slender, long fingers.<br><br>“My lady, it is a pleasure to meet you”, he greeted her, the perfect gentleman, before straightening up.&nbsp; “Lord Waltham, may I compliment you with your fine and beautiful daughter”, he said to the girl’s father, starting the needed charm offensive, without being obvious about it. “I hope you don’t mind if I steal her away for the next dance. They assured me her card had some spots open, and I was forward enough to take the opportunity to spend time with this lovely young woman. She is most enchanting, is she not?”<br><br>Swarthmore just looked on, almost like a proud father, just chuckling, “As long as you save a few dances for my daughter. While she is to young to be courted by you, sir Knight, she was looking very much forward to spend some time with you. She likes the tales of Knights a great deal.”<br><br>As the violins started playing again, Blake led his employer to the dance floor, where he fell into a perfect rhythm. People thought being a Private Eye was easy. How wrong they were. To blend in well, a lot of skills were needed. And dancing was an absolute must. So he moved smoothly, with practiced elegance, and swept the girl in his arms around the ballroom, away from her father, closer to where the music would make overhearing them possible. Still, he kept up his façade of being a knight that was attracted to her, but didn’t know her.<br><br>“Forgive me for being so forward, My Lady”, he told her, eyes showing only the proper emotions, that of interest and attraction, while his smile was warm and flirtatious, “but I was most interested in spending some time with you. You are the most enchanting woman in this room and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity when I saw the free spots. Is that terribly presumptuous of me?”<br><br>They twirled on the spot, as the music dictated, the dance changing slightly, as he pressed her closer to his body, her feminine form moulding to his more powerful, muscular, male frame. With them so close together, his hot breath caressed her skin as he breathed and spoke, using the opportunity to whisper, “Did I make a convincing entrance?” As they kept dancing, he made sure his moves were appropriate, yet as sensual as publicly acceptable. He used his every skill, aiming to bedazzle her. Yet it was her sheer presence and beauty that was also bedazzling him. He would have to be careful, or his lips hovering so close and just a bit higher than hers, would be capturing hers in a searing kiss of passion.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cecilia</strong> on <strong>09-10-2010, 02:19:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail remained mute as Blake Hollowfield, no Sir Blake Hollowfield, led her onto the dance floor.&nbsp; She smiled up at him charmingly, the very image of a young woman being swept off her feet in more ways than one.&nbsp; She melted into his arms with an easy and comfortable acquiescence she had learned with many hours of training.&nbsp; The warmth radiating from her skin was not so easily controllable.&nbsp; The flushed cheeks and bright eyes that had burst forth as he took her in her arms were convincingly real simply because they were so.&nbsp; <br><br>"Not presumptuous at all, I was more concerned that you would miss the opportunity entirely by showing up as late as you did," she said.&nbsp; Her voice was not reproachful but simply concerned.&nbsp; <br><br>"I am astounded by the genuine nature of your introduction.&nbsp; If I didn't know better I would say that you really were a knight,"she said, laughing softly at the preposterous idea that the man she'd hired in a clandestine meeting could possibly be of stature.&nbsp; No, he was clever and quite good at finding the right people to help him out, that much was certain.&nbsp; <br><br>Her bright smile was turned only on him, however, and not toward the other young men who were surely watching their progression across the dance floor.&nbsp; She ignored the other young men who had so far taken up so much of her interest and yet seemed like distant and aged photographs, blurred and barely familiar.<br><br>She knew her father was loving this, however.&nbsp; Blake had unwittingly found the most likely source of fatherly approval he could have looked for.&nbsp; She could see him watching the two dance across the floor with definitive interest.&nbsp; His body movements were subtle, but she couldn't miss the sensual nature of them against her.&nbsp; The heat he was creating in her dropped down lower in her body and sent a coursing desire through her.&nbsp; She recognized the danger but it only thrilled her a bit more.&nbsp; He was a handsome man, after all.&nbsp; And having her father's overt permission to have him court her was a given now.&nbsp; What a perfect set up this would be.&nbsp; <br><br>As the last trio of the piece began she said, "My next dance is empty, but I think I'd prefer a drink....out on the balcony."<br><br>She knew it was forward, but she also knew that he would want his payment.&nbsp; The only way to get it to him would be to join the other young couples who used the balcony and its potted palms to screen them from the prying eyes of escorts.&nbsp; She smiled and said, "Your payment is in a location that can be easily accessed, but would certainly draw attention were I to withdraw it in the lighted space of the dance floor."<br><br>Her eyes glanced briefly down at her bosom and where the money lay tightly secreted between the corset and her breast before returning them back to his eyes.&nbsp; &nbsp;It wasn't possible to see the money, but an adept reach of the fingers could withdraw it quickly and easily. <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>11-10-2010, 11:08:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As the dance progressed, he took careful note of her reactions to his every move. Blake could read the effects he was having on her and was pleased with them. Not only for them being a genuine compliment to his skills and looks, as he didn’t care about such frivolous things, usually, but also because he had managed to make it look so natural. He could feel and see the eyes of her father on them, as well as the interested ones of Swarthmore. Harrington knew what he did for a living and had been as surprised as the others, if not more so, by the revelation of knighthood.<br><br>Two men staring at them with calculating gazes. And scores of others in jealousy, trying to shoot him with their glares, as he stole the most beautiful girl for the night. They could literally see from her reactions that she wouldn’t be sticking to her dance card too tightly. <br><br>“I was a bit on the late side because of this”, he told her, nodding down to his sword, as he led her gently towards the balcony as she had proposed. He could almost hear the gears in her father’s mind running, trying to judge his potential and deeming him worthy for his daughter. If the man didn’t interrupt them before they were on the large balcony, it meant the same as him giving his approval for Blake to court her and to not hold back on the courting. Judging from the general reaction in the room, her father couldn’t afford to waste much time in getting them hooked before some other girl would catch his fancy if he was rejected.<br><br>As they walked through the promenade doors, unobstructed, he had to suppress a laugh about her assumption he had faked his credentials. “Abigail, this sword is real, as are my credentials. They are just the reason I am late because I hardly remembered where I put them. Also, I needed some time to retrieve this outfit, as well as sharpen and clean the sword. Besides, do you have any idea how hard it is to find a proper way to travel with this thing almost making you stumble every few steps?”<br><br>It was indeed difficult to move about with a sword to the hip if you were unused to such things. However, Blake had swiftly adapted and had intentionally chosen to be fashionably late. His entrance would all the more speak to her father that way.<br><br>Once they were on the marble balcony, the crisp night’s air caressing their skin, the many potted plants creating small alcoves that were out of sight, while offering a beautiful view over the Harrington estate, surrounding them and hiding them, mostly, Blake turned so he was facing his companion. At her suggestion as to where he money was hidden, he simply offered her an infuriatingly innocent smile.<br><br>“Why, my lady Abigail, are you trying to proposition me”, he asked her, before leaning somewhat closer, “For if yes, I will gracefully accept.” Before she could reply, he pressed his lips to hers, a move both for pleasure and to hide the way he would retrieve the money. He allowed the kiss the grow more passionate, engaging her lips and tongue in a sensual struggle, as he moved closer, his athletic body moulding completely to her feminine one, as he pressed her back against the balustrade. It supported her, as he held her, one hand on the low of her back, holding her locked in the heated kiss, the other hand on her cheek, skilful fingers making small caressing motions, before that hand, out of sight from anyone else, slipped lower and lower…<br><br>Two fingers reached the hem of her corset, just at the swell of her breasts. Dipping inside, he made purposefully a soft, curling motion, his fingertips brushing slowly over her left breast, touching her nipple with a teasing, tantalizing sweetness, flicking over the nub just once. Not finding the money, he had to smile into their heating kiss, as he repeated the same for her other breast. This time, he found the money, but again, took his time to tease her sensitive flesh. Only when he pulled back, adeptly hiding the money up his sleeve, did he break the intense kiss, releasing her, yet drifting close, as his husky voice caressed her face and her slender neck.<br><br>“You, my lady, are a naughty girl… And I’ll be looking much forward to courting you. It looks and feels very promising.” His voice was rich with innuendo, though his mind was already awhirl with time schedules. Judging from her father’s looks, the man would prefer to get them to marry tomorrow. Blake had no doubt that he would be advocating a short courting period, followed by an early betrothal. And that would be heard, for as he was a man with honour, Blake would not simply ruin her by breaking such an agreement. Yet, if she really wanted to know who was aiming for her family’s company, they might be in need of the time to solve the case. He wondered what she would do once her father made the proposal to turn the tacitly agreed upon ‘seeing each other’ into an engagement…<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cecilia</strong> on <strong>13-10-2010, 23:32:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail couldn't contain her surprise when he affirmed his ranking was real.&nbsp; The knowledge both eased her fears and scared her at the same time.&nbsp; Given that he was truly as social equal, it mean that her father would ask fewer questions than if he had just appeared out of the blue.&nbsp; On the other hand, it also meant that her father would be more likely to press her into a relationship.&nbsp; Rather than pretending to be acting out against her father by dating an obvious rogue, she would be, instead, pleasing him.&nbsp; This ruffled her game plan feathers a tiny bit, but not enough to call foul and cancel her arrangements with Sir Blake.<br><br>"I'm just surprised, Mis...Sir...Blake," she said, not quite sure what to call him.&nbsp; "I was not expecting such a revelation.&nbsp; Now, all the ladies will want a piece of you this evening.&nbsp; You'll be the talk of the set within minutes of the ball ending this evening.&nbsp; And, here I am, with only three dances left open for you."<br><br>As they approached the balustrade, she took a quick look over his shoulder and saw that both Chance and Thomas Warring were near the exit to the balcony in conversation.&nbsp; It irked her beyond belief that Chance would approach any of the other young men on her dance card, let alone Thomas--the one man in the room she had been truly interested in before the ball began.&nbsp; True, she was on the balcony with a knight instead, but she didn't really want to burn bridges with Thomas.&nbsp; He was handsome, and they had a tiny history that she had enjoyed immensely.<br><br>When he asked if she was propositioning him, she simply smiled.&nbsp; His lips were on hers before she could respond and his hands had moved quickly with a certainty of touch that thrilled and unnerved her.&nbsp; He knew what he was looking for without any doubt, and his fingers were clearly playing a familiar tune to him.&nbsp; And one that he played rather well.&nbsp; Abigail's breath caught in her chest as her nipples hardened under his touch.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Beyond them, to those in the ball room, it looked simply like they might be simply sharing a kiss and nothing more. <br><br>"I am a naughty girl, Sir Blake," she said quietly as her eyes met his.&nbsp; "I'm terribly, terribly, naughty.&nbsp; However, I do keep my social contracts."&nbsp; If she didn't get out of this scenario quickly, she'd be letting him take her into the garden maze and have his way with her next.&nbsp; She flushed under the certainty that she would enjoy it immensely, too.&nbsp; <br><br>She held up her dance card and said, "I have three spaces left, fortunately one of them is the last dance...which will enable us to move so easily into the dining room together without any nasty shuffling.&nbsp; I plan on keeping all these others as planned because I am, however naughty, not going to disappoint anyone here. Including Chance.&nbsp; The dunce has been staring out the window like a wounded puppy the entire time we've been out here."<br><br>The music was coming to the end of the current dance, and she pressed in closely against Blake, "I am looking forward to our next dance this evening, Sir Blake.&nbsp; I do believe it's a waltz."<br><br>She inclined her head toward the ballroom indicating her desire to return to the milieu.&nbsp; <br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>14-10-2010, 13:28:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He leaned closer after her knotting up her own tongue trying to address him, and whispered huskily, “Don’t worry, miss Abigail. I am still just Blake. Someone as scandalous and sneaky as me shouldn’t be called sir. I think your father will find out soon enough how scandalous I can really be. After all, there is a reason I never really appeared in public as a Knight. Some parts of my past, some of the things I had to do for my current job, they were not always pretty. They broke the hearts of women, fortunes of the rich and the innocence of girls like yourself. It won’t be long till daddy dearest hears about these exploits. They will sound dark enough that he will be torn between wanting my Knightly self in the family, yet at the same time as far away from his beautiful, unmarried daughter as well. It will keep him busy and distracted from what I am really up to.”<br><br>His darkly glittering eyes bore into hers, as he ended his little speech by pressing a tantalizingly soft kiss just under her ear. And at her admittance to her being a very naughty girl, he merely replied, “I noticed, my dear. And what lovely assets you have to be naughty with.” He was unrepentant about it, about the liberties he would be taking with her body, all in order to make his cover believable. It didn’t seem like she would mind terribly much, as he could feel her hard nipples almost poking through her corset and the flush of her cheeks spreading over her whole body.<br><br>When she mentioned her social contracts and showed him her dance card, he took it from her with a flourish and quick fingers. Pulling out a pen, he signed his name to any of the remaining spots. Sure, there were few left, but almost every single taken spot was by a different person. Luckily. Somehow, not that he was in so deeply for this job, he felt a bit possessive about Abigail.<br><br>Handing her her card back, he felt her pressing against him, telling him how she looked forward to their next dance, a waltz. He leaned in, capturing her lips softly, liking the sweet, tingling sensation it caused, before he let her go.<br><br>“I am looking forward to that, as well. And I hope I am permitted to see you afterwards, too. Unless your father gets too many rumours about me out of good man Harrington, we might have time to explore some more of that naughtiness. Who knows, I might find a bonus hidden somewhere else”, he told her suggestively, before stepping back.<br><br>As she walked towards her next partner, back inside, Blake headed inside as well, aiming to catch Swarthmore. As luck had it, he could overhear Swarthmore just mentioning to her father how Blake tended to get involved in some situations that made for juicy gossip, but that he was a loyal friend whom had no troubles bending the laws a bit to help out. That was a perfectly dubious statement. No father liked hearing that, yet, every man with power and wealth wanted a ‘friend’ like that.<br><br>Instead of mixing himself up in the conversation, he just approached them and stole –actually, he politely invited- the young lady Harrington for a dance. It made for a pleasant pastime, as the girl was smitten with him, but more so with his stories, and it allowed him to avoid the other ladies. Also, he didn’t like the way that Chance fellow was looking at him. He would have to be careful about that one. Envy was a strong motivator for many evil deeds, after all.<br><br>Still, he was looking forward to the moment the waltz would be announced.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cecilia</strong> on <strong>16-10-2010, 01:28:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Two dances with perfect gentlemen later, she found herself in Chance's arms.&nbsp; The one dance he had chosen required little concentration, and she knew he had chosen it for his on inability to lead with any creativity or imagination.&nbsp; As soon as they began, Chance laid in with the questions about Sir Blake.&nbsp; And accusations about his nefarious doings.&nbsp; He even suggested that Blake might be part of the accidents they had been having and that Abigail should be wary of him.<br><br>She didn't like his tone, and was curious about what Chance might have heard of Blake.&nbsp; Why had he suddenly jumped to blaming Blake for things that Chance had said were likely nothing to worry about.&nbsp; She found herself increasingly uncomfortable in his arms as the dance came to it's close and was more than happy to find herself once again facing Thomas Warring for the last dance before her waltz with Blake.<br><br>Thomas smiled warmly and said, "It looks like I've lost the belle for the evening.&nbsp; Your eyes have sought out Sir Blake with every turn."<br><br>"I'm sorry Thomas.&nbsp; I'm afraid I have been smitten with a suddenness I could not foresee.&nbsp; Rest assured, until that moment, I only had eyes for you this evening," she said.<br><br>"Well, at least you're not mooning over that Chance fellow," he said. "He seemed certain of your affections you know."<br><br>Abigail shook her head and said, "My father would approve him as a match for me simply to keep the family business running smoothly. I, however, would never find him suitable.&nbsp; He doesn't have..."&nbsp; And she found her head turning until she spotted Blake again.<br><br>"Enough!" Thomas said, laughing softly,"I get it, my dear lady.&nbsp; I am a close second, but second nonetheless."&nbsp; <br><br>Thomas moved into a few dance moves that left her giddy with their smoothness and ease to follow.&nbsp; Thomas Warring was a splendid dance partner.&nbsp; At the end of the dance he bowed slowly over her hand, "I have one more dance with you this evening, Abigail, and I look forward to it just as much as ever."&nbsp; His lips touched her gloves and she could feel the heat through the fabric.&nbsp; <br><br>The heat rose to her face as she realized her attraction to Thomas Warring was only slightly dimmed by her attraction to Blake. In any other circumstances, she would be very hard pressed to be making any choices.&nbsp; It was with just a tiny bit of sadness she turned from Thomas and sought out Blake's approaching from in the crowd of dancers switching partners. As she saw him she turned her brightest smile upon him, looking like all the world a woman who was falling in love fast and hard.<br><br>Just a few dances left.&nbsp; The waltz with Blake, another with Lord Harrington, a final dance with Thomas and the last dance before the supper with Blake.&nbsp; She felt a sense of relief that the end was in sight.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>18-10-2010, 21:35:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The waltz started almost tranquilly, with steady beats in the simple rhythm. But soon, the rhythm picked up and Blake was leading Abigail over the floor, adding well practiced and executed twirls when fitting. His footwork was steady and swift, keeping her always moving, forcing their bodies in a graceful dance that showed of elegance and the power of young, fit bodies turning a relatively simple dance into a riveting crescendo of passion, ending when Blake brushed close to his lady, their bodies temporarily moulding together, before he dipped her back on the final note, her back arching back, only lightly supported by his strong hand. <br><br>He looked down at her, his gaze smouldering, as he saw her in an entirely different light. With the flush from the dance, the grand finale and seeing her being lit from above with the golden flames, she looked like the most beautiful woman on the face of the planet. And he felt himself very attracted to her. <br><br>When he let her come up after the dip, he looked her in the eyes and he smiled. “Lady Abigail, might I say you are simply stunning? Both as a dancer and in beauty. I would be very honoured if you would consent to be my partner during the dinner. I believe I have an invitation by Lord Harrington to the head table, even.”<br><br>He stepped back, awaiting her reply, before bowing deeply and striding off, as people lined up with their new partners for the following dance. Abigail’s partner for now was Lord Harrington himself, the host of this feast. The man was clever and thus had easily noticed the chemistry between his friend and the girl that had come to him for advice about a possible private detective.<br><br>And while their mutual attraction might fool anyone else, Swarthmore knew Blake and knew there was always more than meets the ye about him and anything he did, like suddenly producing that very real letter of knighthood.<br><br>So, when they were dancing and the music cut out anyone trying to listen in, he looked down on the girl and asked her, “So, Abby, what is this all about? You miraculously are smitten with the man I recommended to you for your little problem? Tell me what is really going on. Are you really intending to start seeing him or is this all a convoluted plot?”<br><br>He fell silent, studying his current partner, before adding, “Or maybe a little bit of both? Well, in any case, I will enjoy watching your father’s reaction. At the moment, he is torn between wanting the knight and hating the roguish man with the questionable reputation…”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cecilia</strong> on <strong>19-10-2010, 22:49:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail followed his lead through the waltz, her head spinning as quickly as her body. Is this what it was like to fall for someone?&nbsp; She kept her eyes on his face when she could, tracing every detail with her eye and a heady sense of wonderment filled her.&nbsp; Surely, it was the music, the dance, the party...not just Sir Blake.&nbsp; Events like this were the perfect breeding ground for heightened emotions--not all of them accurate or real.&nbsp; Abigail tried to put up some defenses, but Sir Blake was absolutely the charmer in both good looks and delectable wit.<br><br>As they parted, she promised him she would be delighted to sit next to him at the post dancing supper.&nbsp; She flushed at the idea of their legs pressing against each other under the table.<br><br>As Lord Harrington took her in his arms, Abigail sobered herself up from her seeming love-induced stupor.&nbsp; His question, so simply asked put her on guard again, and she considered him carefully.<br><br>"My lord, the good Sir Blake is as much a surprise to me as anyone here," she said, dodging the question a bit.&nbsp; "And, given the circumstances, it's quite an attractive one.&nbsp; I imagine my father has his reservations, but surely, your recommendation toward my father would smooth over any rough reputation Sir Blake might possibly have."<br><br>As they turned in the dance sequence she caught the eye of her father who was now dancing with the widow Martin.&nbsp; The damned woman had been chasing her father for years, and it was looking like she might be making some new headway.&nbsp; Abigail's eyes narrowed on the woman and she had to use all restraint to not actively frown at her.&nbsp; That would certainly never do.<br><br>Lord Harrington turned his head to see who had caught Abigail's attention.&nbsp; "Oh...yes.&nbsp; I know that you have no love for Isibella, Abigail, but she's not a bad woman.&nbsp; She's lonely and she finds your father rather attractive."<br><br>Abigail turned her large eyes to Lord Harrington and laughed.&nbsp; "Father?&nbsp; Attractive?&nbsp; Hardly...she sees his company as attractive.&nbsp; &nbsp;Everyone knows she spends her yearly income within the first quarter.&nbsp; She's a gold-digger, and she's set her eyes on my father."<br><br>"Nonsense, Abigail.&nbsp; She's simply a woman who seeks the company of a decent looking man.&nbsp; I swear, you are such a suspicious thing. You really must learn to be more trusting," he said.&nbsp; He kept a safe and appropriate distance from the younger woman.&nbsp; <br><br>"In all honesty, Abigail, Sir Blake has a rather rough edge to him...though I don't think it's anything that can't be smoothed out over time," he said.&nbsp; "I like him.&nbsp; For what that's worth.&nbsp; And, if you were to find a genuine affection for him, that would be grand.&nbsp; Even fun.&nbsp; Though, I would suggest you tread carefully with him, my dear.&nbsp; He's utterly loyal and trustworthy unless he changes his mind."<br><br>With that cryptic bit of advice, Lord Harrington moved them to the edge of the dance floor and bowed to her as the last dance approached.&nbsp; Thomas found her easily and led her onto the floor.&nbsp; It was a simple dance, and they danced mostly in silence.&nbsp; Near the end, Thomas leaned in and kissed her delicately on the ear.&nbsp; <br><br>"Thank you for the dances, lovely Abigail.&nbsp; I'm afraid I won't have such luck in the future," he said.&nbsp; "I do wish you the best."<br><br>Abigail felt a small sort of loss as he guided her to Blake for the last dance.&nbsp; Her eyes lingered on him, the known safe quantity, before she turned her full attention to Blake again.&nbsp; <br><br>The last dance was her favorite, and she enjoyed every smooth motion that Blake led her through.&nbsp; She was certain that eyes followed them throughout the dance and several couples dropped out to watch them move fluidly, like one, across the floor.&nbsp; She was nearly speechless throughout the dance as she tried to control her emotions.&nbsp; She had not expected this.&nbsp; Not at all.<br><br>The ball ended, and couples shuffled one last time as they headed into the grand dining room.&nbsp; She simply allowed Blake to guide her through the throng toward their seats.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>25-10-2010, 10:23:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The dance was heart-pounding intense, with quick and fluid steps and wide, sweeping motions across the floor. He could feel the number of eyes watching them growing, as they drew more and more attention. All those lessons he had taken, should he go undercover at just an event like this, they clearly paid off, as he led the lovely girl in his arms around with skill and finesse, stealing her breath away and bedazzling her as well as the crowd with the passionate dance.<br><br>When they ended, the music fading, there was some applause for the few couples, them included, that completed the fast paced and flourishing dance. It was when they started moving towards the dining table, Sir Blake, Abigail and her father finding their seats at the head table, that talking and the rumour of gossip and many, nay conversations filled the hallway.<br><br>Already, waiters and waitresses, dressed in garish servant’s uniforms, dashed on and off, filling glasses, bringing bottles of every desired vintage and crystal canters of the most exquisite fruit juices and the clearest water. As they were striding over to their seats, side by side, Blake used the din of the loud, moving crowd to ask her, “So, what did the honourable and amusingly disreputable Lord Harrington whisper to you about me? Is he on to me? Is my ploy to marry you for your money in jeopardy?”<br><br>He was teasing her lightly, holding her close, feeling strangely content with her by her side, though he did that away as attraction to the gorgeous girl. He was indeed the luckiest man in the mansion in that regard, with a veritable beauty, a rich one at that, with witty, attractive intelligence and even a kinky streak, by his side. He just hoped that their plan worked. If this failed, there would be hardly another way to get the information she desired, or he would have to invest a lot in some kind of disguise.<br><br>As they took their seats at the table, Blake made sure he was sitting close, within the bounds of propriety at least, by her side. Under the table, their legs brushed against each other, creating a delicious feeling friction, with all the silk and cotton between their separate skins. When he could feel the look of her father, whom was still torn between his tacit approval for him courting his daughter, and the slight dislike for the rumoured reputation of the flamboyant Knight that seemed to get a kick out of pretending to be something lower and disappearing from public view for long stretches of time, only to show up in yet another scandal after scandal, sometimes involving adultery, sometimes involving blackmail.<br><br>To make a statement, to the father and the other guests at the table, to stake his claim, his nimble, strong hand threaded together with hers, as he lifted their joined hands above the table, showing off slightly. But he didn’t say a word about it, not till the arrival of the rich and expensive food that took away a lot of attention. Lord Harrington had clearly set out to impress. His daughter was kept in high regard and the prize ticket of this coming-out party would be high enough to make her remembered.<br><br>As everyone started eating, Blake leaned closer to Abigail and whispered, under the veil of a sweet nothing, “I think we are making good headway. With this way in, I’ll have your information in no time, though I can’t guarantee actually being able to stop your enemies swiftly. I can get the evidence you need for your personal satisfaction and knowledge. You can decide afterwards if you want to retain me to help you deal with them.”<br><br>He leaned back for a moment, taking a bite of the starter course, chewing it slowly, letting the flavours swirl in his mouth. There were definite advantages to being a knight, he considered, but not enough to warrant permanently being one. When he glanced to his side, to the sexy redhead, he reconsidered. And feeling he wasn’t finished yet, doing his reputation credit, he leaned closer again and whispered, his voice more teasing this time, with a hint of huskiness, “So, do you feel the fee was worth it? Having your handsome gentleman for rent for the night? And remember, the night is still young. For what you paid, I might not be opposed to coming in for a cup of tea after hours.” His words were daring, suggestive and only for her ears. He wondered how she would react, but it being public, it would certainly be even more delicious than the food.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gear Master [CC and Arkaniel]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cecilia</strong> on <strong>26-10-2010, 07:10:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail's face was still flushed with the exertion of the dance, and his question made her pause before responding.&nbsp; The words were said in jest, but she couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't some grain of truth in his desire to marry her for her money.&nbsp; When had this gone from a complete undercover fake romance to something nearly real?&nbsp; <br><br>She tossed her head jauntily and made light of his joke, taking it in stride.&nbsp; Or at least pretending to do so.&nbsp; This is what this was all about, wasn't it?&nbsp; Pretense.&nbsp; Abigail liked the feeling of him at her side, the shape of their bodies fit nicely together, and yet she had no idea how much of it was acting on his part and how much was not. <br><br>If he was as much a rake as Lord Harrington had suggested, then she wouldn't put it past him to fake his interest.&nbsp; IT was all a bit too much to sort out in such a short period of time, and soon they were sitting next to each other, their bodies touching through their clothing and then, he had her hand in his and was holding it firmly in his grasp for everyone to see.&nbsp; <br><br>This was moving at an alarming rate and was all too convincing.&nbsp; Yet, she went along with it because she needed and wanted his help.&nbsp; &nbsp;His assertion that he would have the mystery solved in no time was certainly no surprise to her, and she believed him given his obvious resourcefulness.&nbsp; The fact that he was handsome didn't hurt.<br><br>Her father's countenance was obviously none to happy with the situation.&nbsp; This, of course, pleased Abigail to no end.&nbsp; Her father had no real way of denying Sir Blake's attentions without calling him out, and her father was too much a coward for any such nonsense as that.&nbsp; And, give her own history, she could just imagine what was running through her father's mind at the moment.&nbsp; She smiled sweetly at him as Blake released her hand gently to reach for the recently served food.&nbsp; <br><br>When he brought up his fee and his more than obvious proposal, she took a sip of her wine before responding.&nbsp; She leaned into him to return the lover's pose for others to see and said, "The fee seems adequate thus far, though I must say, for that sum I would hope that the tea you would offer is of the finest quality.&nbsp; I do have particular tastes.&nbsp; &nbsp;I like a strongly brewed tea, not just a quick dunk or two, mind you.&nbsp; It should be Smooth...full flavored...bold...with plenty of cream. "<br><br>Abigail's lips twisted into a smile as she spoke, knowing full well that most ladies, upon hearing her words and understanding their context fully, would pass out from her brazenness.&nbsp; Even as she said them, she shifted in her seat to take advantage of the folds of fabric within her undergarments.&nbsp; Abigail picked up the last piece of asparagus from her plate with her fingers and lifted them to her lips.&nbsp; Biting into the tip with a suggestive set to her mouth, her eyes met his fully giving him, she hoped, a little shock of his own.&nbsp; Did he think she was some rather insipid inexperienced goody two-shoes?<br><br>Abigail leaned back as the servant silently slipped in to take her plate and replace it with the next course.&nbsp; <br><br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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