How does this come off...?
Who: Muraki Kazutaka and D'eon de Beaumont
What: Find Comms and other interesting activities... >>;
When: Continuation of this.
Where: A Cafe
Rating: A strong PG, possibly R
D'Eon hadn't been expecting a kind reaction from the doctor. In old France, an outburst of that kind would of warranted.. Fear. Panic. He had been lucky so far that Lia had either been in calm control, or had only shown her true rage to those who were already tainted by the occult. The fact that Muraki had merely questioned, and not pointed a judging figure was more then he could of hoped for. A dull headache pounding in his temples, he reached upwards to touch at heated forehead. "I appreciate your concern, but there is nothing you can do...My condition, isn't something that can be cured.." How else could he explain Lia, without going into detail and scaring the other man? Then again.. Muraki hadn't been disturbed by Lia herself. The blonde was visibly torn, his delicate face showing stress and worry over the situation. Mentally he was under pressure, but his body.. It felt strangely warm as well. Had the shock-cold affected him badly enough to make him fever? He had only been sick a few times in his life, but the 'flu' had killed his father and mother. He stood up from the small couch, wobbling slightly on heeled boots.
“I wouldn’t imagine it would be something that would… just go away,” he conceded, his smile shifting to a look of concern for the boy. His cheeks looked somewhat flushed - though, it could be attributed to the ordeal he’d just gone through.
In fact, D’eon looked to be quite shaky… Especially as he stood. Lovely - it would seem that his doll had come down with something thanks to the snow. Both a blessing and an annoyance - while he could easily care for the other, it would probably leave them stranded in this café for a fair while longer. The last thing D’eon would need at the moment would be to return to the harsh cold.
Straightening up, the doctor was surprised by a dull clunk. Something had fallen onto the counter below him. Pausing for a moment, he looked at the two strange objects - they looked like identical books or laptops - flat and a matte jet black. The only obstruction of the smooth surface was the long crevice where the odd device opened. Odd, that he had not noticed them earlier…
Pale fingers closed around the two thin items, placing them on the bar. He would deal with them later… His waning doll was a far more pressing matter in his eyes.
“D’eon, perhaps you should sit down,” he suggested, stepping out from behind the wood counter, warily watching the other’s progress. “You look flushed.”
Sure enough, his cheeks looked a darker shade of pink, a blaring sign of the fever that was taking hold of the young knight, especially to the physician. It almost looked as though the usually fair porcelain cheeks were made up with a rosy blush…
"I'm sorry, I seem to be nothing but trouble to you." D'Eon sat back down on the couch, not wanting to faint in front of the other man again. He was no longer weaving on his feet, but his body was beginning to feel warmer and warmer beneath the layered silks and velvets. Pink-stained cheeks only reinforced the image of his doll-like visage, blue eyes glassy but fairly lucid. He wished he could remove the heavy velvet overdress, it was a weight on his shoulders and no doubt alot of the problem. Unfortunately, he was wearing nothing else aside from the petticoat and corset. And underneath that, the necessary underclothes. His Parisian knights uniform had been left back in England. Pushing back heavy curls from his face, he lifted his gaze to Muraki's face. "Perhaps its best if you travel on without me.."
Troublesome? Why yes, he was.
Though, the prospect of world altering power and the sight of the lovely imitation doll’s spirit breaking… Watching that trusting nature shattered as he turns on him, using him and torturing him, simply for the pleasure of reveling in his pained cries… Treating a case of the common cold seemed a small price to pay for such things. Not to mention that it would usually take days to become as close to a victim as he seemed to be with D’eon - the knight was surprisingly gullible, even by Muraki’s standards.
“I’m not going to leave you here on your own,” he assured, standing at the other’s side. He placed a cool hand on the other’s forehead, taking a moment to guesstimate the temperature - well above normal, at least.
He let his hand wander down to the man’s cheek, cupping his face gently. He knelt down so that he was closer, almost as though he were inspecting his pinkish flesh.
“It would be best if we could get you cooled down - though not catch a chill,” he said slowly, eyeing the heavy layers of velvet. Though, it would seem that the dress was not the only problem.
Still watching D’eon’s face, the doctor let his hand travel down his neck, slowly working his way to the other’s chest. With the man being as trusting as he was, Muraki wondered if such contact would appall him, though he continued his determined course. He traced the line of his flat chest until he reached the thick edge of his corset, then moved his finger down the line of the boning.
“Your breathing seems a little laboured as well,” he commented, letting his hand rest on D’eon’s flat stomach, still fingering the harsh boning. “It would be better if you removed the corset.”
He was sure that this would come as a shock to one as proper as his doll - after all, it was as though he were asking the poor boy to remove his underwear in the presence of another. Though, Muraki also knew that those from the boy’s timeline didn’t realize the serious restrictions of such a garment, nor the detrimental qualities of it.
“The tightness and the boning make it harder for you to breathe - if you could take it off, it might make it easier. And the removal of some of the layers might help bring your fever down,” Muraki reasoned, his mask changing to that of a false reassuring smile.
Then again, this one seemed to be innocent enough that he wouldn’t realize the dangers of stripping these layers in front of another man. After all - anything other than heterosexuality was a crime against God in early times… And with the trusting nature of D’eon on his side, he doubted that the young knight would doubt his own less than innocent intentions.
After all, could Muraki honestly be trusted to behave himself when given such a magnificent toy and no one around to supervise…?
D'Eon was a noble, and as such, was used to certain etiquette and behavior.
Though he had not often been to court, he had always been a shy boy. A quiet boy. The type that preferred reading and studying, over drama and bloodshed. Despite that, he had mastered the sword in order to help his king and country. Not to mention, Lia.
The young knight had no friends, aside from his recently acquired traveling companions. And Bernice, who had been killed by his own hand. The world had not been a very intimate place for D'Eon, and his experience socially was lacking past formalities. It was perhaps this skewed idea of society, justice and trust that made him so susceptible. He was not stupid, but too willing to trust and take the words of others sincerely when they had no reason to wrong him. Ever watchful for enemies of France, he left himself open to those willing to harm his own person.
But lately, he had been even more careless. His mind wandered often, and he found himself.. forgetting. And then remembering, events which he had no reason to. Events that had never been witnessed with his own eyes. Emotions had been running high as well, and the present was an example. He gazed at Muraki weakly as the pale hand cupped his cheek, the coolness feeling like utter heaven. Blue eyes widened slightly as the fingers dropped lower down his throat, and then to his chest. He felt a shiver wrack his body, along with a heavy thumping in his chest.
The closeness was uncomfortable, and...strange. No one had touched D'Eon this closely before. Or had they? For some reason the intimacy felt familiar, yet disturbing at the same time. He wanted to pull away, but the doctor held him frozen somehow with the simplest touch.
D'Eon snapped out of his slight daze at Muraki's words, and the pressure on his abdomen through the thick corset.
"Take..Take it off? I have nothing else to..."
His face would of flushed pink, if the colour were not already there from the heavy fever. The increasing heat from the layers of clothing- and perhaps something else- was enough to convince him.
"I.. can't remove the corset or dress without the aid of another person." The knight's face was tipped away from Muraki, looking quite less then pleased at this turn of events. The doctor was right that D'Eon expected no misdeed, and was merely embarrassed to be seen in such a state. Not to mention needing help with such a private matter.
As he’d thought, the boy had been quick to protest. The look of utter alarm on his face at the feeling of his finger on his stomach had been fair warning to that. Then, when was Muraki ever truly deterred? After all - the best personal space was that of someone else, in his mind. And he knew no limit when it came to invasion of it.
He prepared himself to rebut the boy’s objections, explaining the worse things that could result from ignoring the burning fever. One from his time period should know of such harms, after all… Despite their pitiful advances in medicine, such a small bug could have been fatal to him in his home world. Such a threatening prospect could surely be used to his advantage -
Except, that he wouldn’t have to put forth such an effort anyway.
Without saying a word to D’eon, the knight had already conceded defeat, probably due to his own inner conflict. Perhaps for the reasons Muraki had thought of, or some other, more personal inner debate - not that the doctor really cared, so long as the doll consented.
Then, his next complaint was one far more interesting. While he knew that such an outfit would hardly be easy to get in and out of, he had not considered the possibility that D’eon could not accomplish it on his own. He had thought only of the results of the removal, not the benefits of helping to remove it. Apparently, fortune had truly smiled on him this day, landing him in this odd world.
“If you wanted, I could help you - though I have little experience in such matters,” he offered, his hand still resting heavily on the other’s stomach, keeping him from moving for the moment.
“You don’t have to leave it off - but it’s better if you don’t over heat,” he continued, brushing back a few errant blonde locks from D’eon’s face with his free hand. “Nor have your breath obstructed.”
Climbing to his feet, he signaled politely for his doll to do the same. He hoped he wouldn’t have to fight too much for this - then, the struggle was half the fun for the sadistic man. Then, he also wasn’t prepared to break his new toy just yet.
“Perhaps there’s a thinner layer to the dress you could put back on? We don’t want you catching a chill either.”
He smiled at that, waiting for the other to climb to their feet. The idea of the poor knight huddling in his undergarments, cowering from the cold - or from him - amused him for some reason. Perhaps it was simply anticipation of what lay beneath the layers of dress, untouched and innocent as the rest of him… Begging to be broken.
"I..I...."
Muraki had a point, there were many reasons to take the dress and the corset off. But the young knight still felt awkward, and more then a little shy about stripping down in front of the Doctor.
"There..is no underlayer, the petticoat is attached.. There's, just a slip.." Barely a whisper as he stood carefully, one hand resting on the arm of the chair. He felt too warm, and Muraki was right- His chest did feel tight, resulting in heightened dizziness.
The blonde was shaking slightly, whether from sickness or nervousness, it was hard to tell. Possibly a mixture of both.
The velvet over dress laced up the back tightly, and was surprisingly heavy. It carried the heavy weight of the voluptuous under skirts, as well as being a heavy material. The corset beneath it was stiff and white, laces crisscrossing tightly. And lower and under then the corset, the correct period undergarments. A thin silk slip that was more froth then fabric, with tiny weak looking little straps. It float at mid hip. Ruffled white bloomers, cut high on the thigh, and constructed of expensive lace. White garters leading to the tops of white lace thigh highs, a ruffle across the top and small bows on each one.