Scene: An Artist at Work
"An Artist at Work"
Evening of 28th of Janvier in the Year 1186
Odette, Gabrielle, Hermes, Golda, Genevieve, Celine, Kalyani
House Mandrake: Showing Room
The novices are circling with trays of wine and small nibbly treats: meat and cheese and fruits and nuts. There's a Valerian courtesan down in the center of the showing stage already, laying face-down with her hair over one shoulder to expose the full length of her body. And there's Genevieve, helping to show folks in and directing them to the seats closest to the stage, down at the bottom of the arc.
Gabrielle eased in, Red, a change of color from her usual violets and yellows or burgundy's. A demonstration of mandrake one of the adepts had rumored, and when she showed up, sure enough, there was. THe short locked Heliotrope smiled as she walked in.
Collette is lead by a novice to her sit, as she leans back a little to watch the proceedings. Her eyes curious, as she looks towards Genevieve, and makes a note to herself to try and talk to the Dowayne sometime that night.
For some reason the Duc Azzalle is here today/ And alone to boot. A quiet enough arrival he waits near the door for a moment, simply watching and staying out of the way of the entering ones. No rumors for him, but the greeting to the Dowayne is delayed and brief enough, a murmur exchanged before he finds his own seat.
With all usual professional demeanor, Celine greets Genevieve with a quiet but clear, "Good day, Dowayne Genevieve," and takes the suggested seat. The three who came in before her all receive short nods and traces of polite smile.
Odette walks into the staging room with the confidence of a patron, or at least she tries. Unsure of her place here this evening, she attempts to feel at ease within the chamber where she has experienced anything but ease during her lessons. She wears her own simple gown, not the novice white, but well made black linen. A drastic change. She glides in and stands near the door studying the room and the others in attendance.
Gabrielle had gone and found a seat, somewhere in the middle, glancing back at the door every now and then. Celine's nod was returned, a dip of the head. Hermes, she couldn't just quite greet him, unsure but a tilt of the head if he looked. Odette though, a patting of the seat beside her when she spotted the Valerian Novice.
"Gabrielle," one of the novices calls out to her and hurries over, a hand coming out to touch her arm to get her attention. "The Dowayne says she has a seat set aside for you, will you come with me?" Meanwhile, the Dowayne in question is offering murmured greetings to all and asundry. "I'll survive it," she answers Hermes, tone mild and amused. "Good day, Dowayne Cereus," for Celine, and a quiet, "And welcome, my lady," for Collette. When Odette eases inside, the Dowayne is there to indicate where Gabrielle is being led. "You may sit near her," is the offered instruction. The Heliotrope in question is being tugged towards a second Valerian courtesan, who'd been standing down near the stage. Whatever he may have planned to do, he's easing down to all fours now instead.
Odette grins in relief when she sees her friend, the same time as the Dowayne Mandrake instructs her as to where she might sit. She offers an excited but small wave to Gabi and makes her way over. As she does so she softly bites her lip, seeing a fellow House member and her better being used as Gabi's chair. She not sure whether to be embarassed or jealous.. Either way, there is a heat in her eyes and a pink flush on her high cheeks. She offers a kiss of greeting to her friend, "How are you? I am so relieved to see you here.. I wasn't sure I'd be allowed to attend. I wasn't able to ask Thomas for permission..." She lets out an exsaperated sigh. "So how are you luv?"
Kalyani is late(ish) but here, and she hmms softly at the members in the room before she is shown to her seat, and the woman looks around. Jasmine is known for their combonation of ideas, but she truely, in her fourty years, has not seen a true Mandrake showing. It will be interesting, indeed.
Oh, well. That seat. Bearing all the dignity she could, and not a trace of blush, yet, Gabrielle followed the novice, a look to Odette that went 'your sitting next to me' before she stood before the kneeling Valerian. She turned and eased down onto his back, careful to find a comfortable spot. The living chair. Her chin was lifted, and a smile on her face. love conquers all? "I'm godo and well" she leaned carefully to place a kiss on odette's cheek. "I came to watch. And... sit"
The seats are all clumped together fairly close - courtesans from other Houses (and from Mandrake itself) are filtering in as well, but it's pure luck that the PCs are all being seated near each other.
Not a squirming seat for himself, but at the sight of Gabrielle's endeavour the Azzallese Duc finds himself seated near the stage himself, just enough so that he might exchange a word or three. Or perhaps that is what Genevieve planned all the way. Either way his seat is a more conventional one and his focus around those nearby. "Gabrielle" he greets her. "And Celine. A rather interesting audience per se." He nods to the others, not quite introducing himself. Well, it makes sense.
"Hermes." Celine's smile is distant. "I hope you are well, your Grace?" She takes note of the others who enter after, particularly the other courtesans, but while speaking and being spoken to, she keeps her attention upon the Duc.
Odette takes her inanimate seat next to the courtesan and giggles softly into her hand, as she steals a glance down ward at the Valerian chair. She then looks about the seating area for other's she is familiar with... seeing Celine, she offers simply a friendly smile.
"Your Grace" Gabrielle replied. "It is nice to see you here to honor the Dowayne and her house" Her hands were in her lap and every now and then she looked down to make sure her valerian was doing okay beneath her.
Well, so much for anonymity, but it isn't as if the Duc could have expected being where he is after all. "I have been well" he grants to the Cereus Dowayne, shifting to face the stage while acknowledging those around himself as well. "Is that why I am here, Gabrielle?" he muses, relaxed in place. The valerian under her does not get even a look. People don't really look at chairs most of the time after all.
The seat beneath Gabrielle wriggles a little to settle into place, but otherwise he's still and relaxed, clearly practiced. He certainly doesn't seem to mind his task. Once most of the people have settled to their seats, the Novices move through with trays again to offer food and drink. Genevieve heads down onto the lowered stage, coming to rest at the face-down Valerian's side. "Welcome to Mandrake, and Namaah's blessings on all of you this evening," she addresses up to the audience. The acoustics are good: her words reach all of the seats. "Please welcome Dianna, who will serve as my canvas this evening." A slight gesture indicates the model next to her. "The demonstration will begin as performance, but later you'll have the opportunity to participate if you wish; I'll let you know when that time comes. Questions may be directed to me, as they occur."
Kalyani remarks softly to Gabrielle, "I almost envy your seat, dear, except my old bones prefer more comfortable." The Jasmine settles back into her seat, hands in her lap, legs crossed, and she gazes at Dianna. "What a canvas." She murmurs softly.
A soft sound can be heard near the entrance to the chamber, as the curvy Dowayne Bryony slips in, albeit fashionably late. With a rather apologetic look offered in Genevieve's direction, Golda slips into a seat near Celine, willing the slight blush in her cheeks to subside. Under normal circumstances, she probably wouldn't have come in at all if she were going to be late, but this was certainly a case of "better late than never"-- Dowayne Mandrake's skills were something to be witnessed, she had heard.
now the blush came to her cheek snad gabrielle looked away from Hermes to kaylani "I am sure that the Dowayne Genevieve can find another if you want one. This was more a... " She searched for the word. "Jest on her part"
Odette sits quietly, unusual for her, but there is something in the tone of those around her that makes her think, its not quite the time to chime in. So she she sits and watches the novices move about the room, snatching a snack when one can be had. She desperately is trying to calm the wonderful nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. She observes Dianna on the floor and tries not to seem too bothered by the scene.
A glass taken and lifted in a half toast in Genevieve's direction, Hermes readies himself for the showing while nodding down in Kaliani's direction. His eyes pause upon her for just a little longer than necessary as if trying to place her, but then he shrugs it off and moves on. There is an amused look to Odette for a moment, and a glance to the blonde woman but in all, the Azzallese remains quiet himself.
With a slight bow to all and asundry, Genevieve moves to the other side of the model, one hand resting lightly on the face-down woman's shoulder. A novice brings a table out and sets it at the Dowayne's side. A second novice brings a long, wooden box and opens it. With easy, practiced motions, he begins to set up an intricate set of metal frames and wooden bowls; candles are set beneath and lit, so that the colored wax inside the bowls can melt. From the audience's angle, it's all quite clear and visible as the wax softens and then turns liquid. Last out of the box are four brushes, set on the table to wait for use. While all this is being arranged, Genevieve leans down to murmur to her 'canvas', sharing a few quiet words with the Valerian woman. What can be seen of the Mandrake's expression is softened out of the usual solemn lines - not quite gentle, her face doesn't really /go/ that way, but certainly less harsh.
Golda offers a knowing glance in Celine's direction, as they have already been acquainted, whispering a soft but coy greeting to the Dowayne. But her green eyes then wander towards the others, silently guessing who they might be. Kalyani, she had heard of-- new Dowayne of Jasmine, yes? She would have to introduce herself later. But the two younger novices, and the handsome Azzallese man, she is wholly unaquainted with. She meets the man's gaze, offering him a roguish grin before slipping a glass of water from an adept passing by. Her legs cross beneath the warm golden hue of her dress, making it shimmer in the low light. Her attention shifts to Genevieve and her 'canvas', as she called her. This was proving to be quite interesting already.
Painting. Gabrielle had seen this once already and she smiled softly. What design would it be this time. SHe looked over to Odette with a smile then towards the Dowayne of Mandrake, a hand coming down to rest in her chair's hair and scratch gently, out of habit.
Kalyani giggles softly at Gabrielle, but as the show starts, sh eflicks a smile to Golda, and thinks. Look at the amount of Dowaynes! She certianly has never seen painting like this- Eglantine painting, yes, but this... hmmm. Interesting.
Celine raises her thin eyebrows at the impressive and unusual collection of art supplies. She does sneak two quick glances to the two new dowaynes, giving diplomatic nods if she catches their eye, but after that, focuses solely upon the stage.
Odette echoes her smile and nod of greeting to those who look her way, being polite. But as the preparations begin her gaze is fixed on the showing stage and the rest of the room becomes a visual din far from notice. Even her companion's offered smile is unseen. Her breathing grows short until she mentally arrests it and forces herself to breath at a relaxed pace.
No questions so far, yet the Duc's attention is now fully upon the Mandrake Dowayne and her charge now, regardless of those around him.
"Wax is a well-known tool of our House," Genevieve explains as she straightens out of her lean. The pair of novices helping to set up back away off the stage, hurrying over to their own seats. The courtesans of Mandrake aren't quiet, though they are hushed - they're leaning in to each other, speaking and gesturing down below. Obviously, this isn't a true Showing. It's too interactive for that. The Dowayne goes on, turning to pick up a brush, "But there are many ways to apply it. The sudden spray of heat, the random droplets, provide a startling sensation." She dips the brush into one of the bowls and brings it down to the woman in front of her, gleaming yellow wax across the tip. "By brush, it can be used for art, for designs that you know won't last." A glance is flickered up to Celine at that, before attention turns downwards. "The bristles of the brush dig in first, followed by the blaze of the wax." And with that, she puts action to word: a sweep of yellow is painted across the Valerian's back, crossing the marque there. The woman moans in response, a shudder setting her body atremble. It wasn't a pained sound, not by a long shot.
Gabrielle's hand tightened in the seats hair as she watched the 'paint' applied to the flesh, her attention fully on the demonstration before them, head tilted just a fraction to the side.
At the suddenly harsher grasp, the Valerian beneath Gabrielle squirms again. It's a faint motion, but clear enough to anyone nearby; his even breath hitches, then steadies again.
Goldalise doesn't squirm in her seat as a few of the others do. Rather, a faint smile quirks one side of her mouth, her lips parted in mild fascination. Just the erotic sound the Valerian canvas made would be enough to 'rouse any patron of the same House, she imagines.
Odette shifts in her seat as the wax is applied, struggling to maintain composure. As is her habit, she intertwines her fingers on her lap, twisting them into nearly painful knots then releasing them only to do the same in seconds. She hears the sounds of pleasure coming from her fellow Valerian on their knees besides her, and she forces herself to keep her gaze on the stage... on the art.
The Azzallese noble simply drinks from his goblet, showing no reaction to gesture, moan or gasp. The technique brings a twitch to the corner of his mouth, almost unnoticeable, and then his attention is elsewhere after all. A brief lean to the side and a whisper to the blonde by his side.
You sense Hermes's voice is amused "What would you say, is this to be a Mandrake or Jasmine demonstration?"
With the explanation out of the way, Genevieve turns her attention down to the work. The yellow wax is swept multiple times in long and trailing lines. Green next, and brown, each time with a new brush and smooth, economical motions on her part. Every now and then she sets fingers lightly to a bare shoulder and murmurs to the woman, but most of the time she's painting. One of the courtesans off to the side calls down, "Madame! What are you saying to her?" At this question, the Dowayne answers aloud, "The pain, and the heat, can be overwhelming if you don't provide a touchstone to ground the patron. The words remind her that she's here, and help keep her from fainting." The training of the Valerian beneath her hands becomes clear with each passing moment: her moans are musical, clear and strong tones that mix pleasure with notes.
"Ohhh" Gabrielle murmured, having released her hold on the chair's hair when he made his sounds and put her hands back on her lap, almsot as if from someone else it looked like she had meant to do that to the poor chair. She smiled though at the painting taking shape, a look back at the question. Then her gaze was back at the front, a lazy smile on her face as she listened attentivly.
Bryony's dowayne offers the raven-haired gentleman a slide-long glance, green eyes sparking briefly in amusement. She hesitates before answering, ruby-red lips pursed, like a student concerned about getting in trouble for talking during 'class'. "I'd wager you one or the either, my lord, but I'm afraid if Genevieve hears me, I'll be her canvas next." Another roguish grin, as she brings the sparkling glass up to her lips.
Celine appears interested, yes, but distant. Her head remains straight ahead, but she does glance to Hermes and Golda out of the corner of her eyes.
Kalyani shifts higher in her chair, aiming her head for the ability and chance to watch the canvas a bit better, noting Genevieve's technique silently to herself.
Odette hums a soft moan of pleasure to herself, unable to keep all of the sensation within her. Her eyes go wide, hearing her own voice and she smirks despite herself. After hearing the wise Dowayne's explanation, she nods in silent agreement.'
The design laid out on the Valerian's back begins to take shape: a Mandrake marque is growing there, curling up from hips and the curve of the woman's rear, becoming green stems, daggered leaves, dangerous thorns. And at the last, yellow blossoms open and closed both. Genevieve's work does leave a portion of her upper back bare, across the shoulderblades. With one last dab of heated paint, she sets the brushes aside and looks up at the audience. "This section," a gesture indicates it. "Is for any of you who wish to try your hand." Dianna's moans fade slowly... only to become a low, anticipatory sounds from deep in her throat when she hears the Dowayne's offer.
A toast is lifted, this time in Golda's direction, and the Duc Trevalin smiles to himself noticeably enough as he flashes a glance to her back. "Is that something one should fear?" he retorts, sounding amused for a moment. "I think the second." And his voice lowers once more to say something in quieter tones. His eyes remain upon the stage and its contents, pensive. The next observation is to Genevieve herself "She doesn't seem to be in pain at all."
You sense Hermes's grin is filled with humor as he speaks. "We should set the stakes before I win."
"it's not about the pain all the time" Gabrielle speaks, automatically, coming ot Genevieves defense. "It's the trust, the exchange. It doens't need to be about the... " but then she shuts her mouth, waiting to see who will go up up, her cheeks blushing.
Odette looks to Gabrielle, astounded by her obvious understanding of the dynamic. She smiles warmly and rests her hand on the pixie-looking girl's shoulder. In a low whisper she inquires, "She's taught you a great deal' eh?"
Gesturing dismissively in Gabrielle's direction, Hermes' attention is upon the Mandrake Dowayne now. If it had ever been needed he points out for those who would misinterpret. "No. It is. Trust may be the road, but there is a destination. A reason. Besides Milady said it herself when she explained" His eyes flicker just slightly. "That the pain and the heat could be overwhelming."
The small bits of ice in her glass clink and chime together as she lifts her glass again to her lips, acknowledging his musing toast. "If you're truly so confident, perhaps you should take your hand on stage," she offers in a candid whsiper to the handsome stranger, fingers playing at the stem of her glass casually. She eyes the canvas-of-a-woman on stage, and is somewhat impressed by the entire exchange, knowing she probably wouldn't be suited for either role. She glances back to the Duc as he speaks, and nods once in agreement. "Pain does seem to be the crux of it all, from this perspective."
"Is trust simply a road?" Celine's inquiry is clear, directed at Genevieve alone, rather than glancing about at others uncertainly. "For some, I would think that the true ability to surrender to another, giving them full trust might be a goal in and of itself." Her careful words suggest she waits for Genevieve's expert opinion.
Genevieve sets a hand lightly on Dianna's hair, fingers threading through the dark strands. "Dianna is trained, Lyon," she answers upwards. "Her pain is her music, and she releases it that way. The level of pain given depends on the situation as well - this isn't the time or place for her to find true pleasure. That isn't the point of this demonstration." The explanation is easy and unconcerned. A nod is given to Gabrielle's outburst, expression approving, before she turns attention to Celine. "It is both, madame Cereus. We've worked together before, Dianna and I, and we continue to walk the path." Her gaze sweeps across the gathered audience. "Will no one make an attempt?"
"I'd let /you/ paint my back with piping-hot wax for the right price, Celine no Cereus," Golda muses in the creamy-skinned woman's direction, her face alight with bawdy banter.
A small smile for Odette and Genevieve, but it was quickly erased with Hermes dismissive gesture and she leaned over just enough to murmur to her 'chair' a hand on his shoulder.
Odette trails her hand away from her friend after giving her a supportive squeeze. She then turns her eyes to the stage and the prostrate Valerian woman there. Finding courage her voice calls out low, strong and slurred with a touch of her country birth, "If its allowed, Lady Dowayne, I'd like to try my hand... at this art."
Celine keeps her demeanor utterly calm as she turns to face Golda after giving Genevieve an appreciative smile for her clear answer. "How kind of you, Dowayne Bryony." The lack of anything, even a cold smile, hardly suggests amusment by this suggestion.
There is a look at the laying courtesan, and while the Duc watches Odette move there is another motion of his own, the glass offered to a nearby novice as he comes to stand by Gabrielle's side. "I shall as well." he comments off handedly, fingers brushing against shortened locks almost invisibly. "It intrigues me, such training. I had not quite heard of anguisettes made rather than born." And there is a certain skepticism in his tone as well.
Golda still manages to glean a little amusement from the comment herself-- and even more so, knowing that Cereus' Dowayne holds back any amusement on her part. She'd win her over, in time. But the platinum blonde gazes up at the Duc as he stands nearby, and she shifts in her seat to afford him the space to pass by easily on his way to the stage.
Gabrielle squirmed on her seat, adjusting as the Duc stood beside her. A brief flicker upwards before looking over to Odette. Though one could swear she leaned, in just a fraction then back away. Her hand on the Valerians shoulder increased in pressure a fraction till she took a few moment to relax, and pet his shoulder a little.
"No anguisette," Genevieve answers upwards, her lips twitching at the corner. "This is performance as much as anything else - what you and Odette paint will be less familiar, the hand less practiced. The training is something you'll need to discuss with Valerian." She gestures Odette down, and adds, "Join us when you're ready, my lord."
Odette makes her way down to the stage area with a cat-like gait. She moves easily among the chairs and people, till she arrives next to Genevieve. She looks to the bowls of colored wax and contemplates her design, her mind solely about the art for the moment. "Shall I just go ahead then...?"
The motion stops near the stage, and even as it does the Duc observes the tray for a moment. "I am here" he replies, considering the elements for a moment. "But I am afraid, not quite so much an artist." There is a grin on his face as he looks, coming to stand by Genevieve's side. "Perhaps she should try first."
With a slight gesture at the bare skin, Genevieve murmurs, "Do your best, Odette no' Valerian." The woman laying face-down takes a deep breath in preparation, then another, trying to calm herself. The Dowayne meanwhile moves aside, hand leaving Dianna's hair and leaving her all alone up there. While the pair turn their attention to the paint, she notes up to the audience, "Removing the wax is just as much a part of the art. It can be done by hand, in which case nails often scrape against the reddened flesh. An experienced courtesan can also remove it with flame, melting it away again, which repeats the burn as it heats up."
The Bryony tilts her head to the side as Genevieve explains different techniques for removal of the wax. She feels her body involuntarily tense up for a moment, at the latter method. "Dowayne Gene--" She catches herself as she addresses the woman, remembering their earlier musings on titles. "Genevieve, please explain to me: doesn't this sort of removal by flame sear the courtesan's flesh? In my experience, these sort of wounds leave considerable scars."
Gabrielle blushed again at that rememberance, and peered curiously at Odette, wondering what she was going to paint on the courtesan's back before looking over to Genevieve and then finally the rest who sat behind her, shifting and turning in her 'seat' makign sure to pet him.
Odette shifts to stand before the impliments. She picks up each brush in turn and finally settles on a the second to smallest one, a pointed tip for precision, but width enough to provide sensation she thinks. She dips it in the green wax and proceeds to add a sprig off of the Dowayne's own work. She does so with skill and concerted effort despite the unusual medium. She replaces the brush and reaches for a broader one, coating it in hot red wax. She lays it on the prone woman's flesh, letting her tool take sweeping strokes coming to fine points. When she is finished she steps back and admires her work, her face flushed. She has added a small branch of delicate and bending Valerian blossoms to the painted marque.
Kalyani glances back. "Then their Signale would be used, as like most times involving things like flame, if I am not mistaken." She purses her lips. "Mandrake and Valerian alike, Valerian to keep from getting too submissive, Mandrake to keep from getting to dominative. When they are done, perhaps, I would like to work at the paint. It is truely an idea I might see about us Jasmine's... for everyone's pleasure is their own."
"That's why only those with experience are allowed to do so," Genevieve answers Golda, with a nod to agree. "It's a matter of skill and practice to hold the flame just close enough to melt the layer of wax, then move the flame away before the heat penetrates any further. My courtesans know not to try, and they know not to give it to a patron who asks for it, before I've given permission. Very few are allowed." She turns a bit to glance at Dianna when the Valerian responds to the new and unanticipated painting with a gasp that tries to turn into an echo of the earlier moans. She's breathing heavier now, though she manages to stay still. Mostly. "My work with Dianna on the lower back was accmopanied by touch. It let her know what was coming, and prepared her for the pain so she could accept it with less difficulty. New hands and designs are more startling."
Satisfied with the Dowayne's answer, she offers a slow nod. Her eyes hover around the red-hot wax quickly drying on the Valerian's skin, and she murmurs a quick praise to Elua for the painlessness of her own House's canon-- pain of the physical sort, that is. Losing her first batch of cards to the previously-mentioned Dowayne hadn't been so painless.
Only once Odette is done does Hermes move forwards to select his own tool. There is no doubt or hesitation as the Duc selects the thinner brush with the hard bristles, dipping it generously into the darkest red in the pail. He leaves it there as he moves closer, drawing fingers over the courtesan's hair towards himself, brushing it further away from back, shoulder and neck. "I must have heard somewhere" His voice, unlike Genevieve's when she spoke to the courtesan, carries well without care of who hears it, and even as the brush is recovered those close enough can see just how entangled both fingers and hair have become. "..That color does make a difference. But Meaning does more so."
Odette backs away from Dianna and looks to Genevieve with a nod. "Thank you for the opportunity, Dowayne." She then steps up further to observe the Duc try his hand. Her composure is a bit flustered though and she has a seat in the first row of chairs near Gabi. She looks around for the novice carrying wine.
Gabrielle sat entranced, watching the painting done by adette, the addition of curlicue, and smiled as the Novice walked away. THe duc come next and she furrowed her brows wondering what he was going to make now. Her slippered foot shifted to rub against the Valerians leg, trying to ... reward him for his job well done so far"
Dianna's tremor under Hermes' hand is visible: everyone in those lower seats can tell she's falling out of the ease that marked her previous moments as canvas. "Do not, Dianna," Genevieve notes quietly to her, before she turns her attention back to the watchers. "It's a pleasure to watch you paint, Odette. When Lyon is finished, and after the Dowayne Jasmine has had her turn, we'll remove the wax. Everyone is welcome to join us for that as well."
Odette demures slightly under the praise, her hair falling to shield her her eyes for a brief moment. She then beckons the novice with the wine and takes a glass for herself, drinking deeply of it and sighing. She waits to see what the Duc has created, all the while she appears to be distracted by sounds coming from the stage.
Golda feels the stirring of butterflies in her stomach as she watches the Duc, seeing how his fingers have become entwined mercilessly in the woman's hair. Many of Valerian's milder tastes are prevelant /outside/ of its walls, as well. The curvy lass takes another long sip of ice water, letting a sigh loose softly.
Dianna's upper back is fully exposed, the expanse between her shoulder blades still mostly untouched by Odette's painting. There is something in the Duc's gaze when he feels the motion underneath, the fear. The brush slides quickly, tracing the burning lines of a symbol only those familiar with the menekhettan culture would recognize. It is dipped frequently enough so that when the bristles press into flesh the wax dripping along them is just a little thicker than it might be necessary. One might just blame it on the Duc's lack of training of course. Or not. It depends on how close one is to see the strength on the wrist, and the precise placement in between. He leans down to murmur something in Dianna's ear, seeming as if it's over when he releases her hair. But no, a moment later another quick brush has a new design brought to life underneath, this time clearly recognizable as the letter L. And now, yes, he is done.
The design flowing from Hermes' brush and the hand in her hair has Dianna's chest heaving; it only makes the hot wax spread faster, less smooth a motion than one might wish. She keeps trying to turn her gasps into the musical moans - sometimes she even manages it, but certainly not nearly as often as before. His whisper has a deep flush spreading across pale skin even where no wax is dripping. When Kalyani moves up to take her turn, the Valerian tries valiantly to stay still as instructed, but it's not nearly so controlled as one might hope. By the time the Jasmine has finished painting, Dianna is shaking, her hands curled into tight little fists. Which is when Genevieve moves over again. "Pull the first design first," she instructs, with a nod to the watchers that they can come join in as well. "To give time for the newer lines to harden." With that, she puts action to word by reaching out to slide a nail under the edge and pull a strip of wax free. The flesh beneath is red, and only grows more so at the sudden exposure to air and the faint scratch left behind.
Gabrielle looked away, sliding off her 'chair' and sitting on the floor beside him now, laying a kiss on his shoulder. "Thank you" Murmured softly. 'you did a good job" She opted to lean her head against his shoulder, letting the others move forward if they wanted to peel away the wax. Much like she did the first time. Sitting the way she was now, it was easy enough to see that what one might think was a skirt she was wear, was instead, pants.
Odette stays seat near Gabrielle and looks over to her as she shifts and makes her way to the floor. Odette decides to do the same, thinking she could use the grounding force of the floor right now. She watches the wax being removed from a distance. But still not far enough to not feel a great deal of empathy of Dianna,. An empathy which reads across her face from the other side of the room.
Golda stands from her seat and, bringing her glass with her, moves a few steps down towards the stage, but stands off toward one side, opting to get a better look at the removal of the wax, but not to participate this time. She watches Dianna's face as Genevieve peels away a section of wax, perking a brow.
Gabrielle murmured something once more to the valerian with a soft sigh, kissed his shoulder again and running a hand down his arm and rubbing it to bring some ease to the muscles that bore her weight. Then turned again to watch the Bryony Dowayne move forward, and the removal.
There are others that move onwards as well, and as they do Hermes takes a step back to allow them some room while at the same time recovering his discarded glass. He remains watching the trail of fingernails upon skin, the way they scrape and pull and just how the sensitized flesh seems to swell under the touch. For this he stays aside, keeping his thoughts to himself.
The courtesans from above start to filter down; they don't exactly push and shove, but each of them makes sure to get a turn. Soon enough, Dianna is almost lost behind the press of bodies and the rough scrape of hands over skin, though Genevieve stays in the center with her. Dianna's expression is barely visible now and again, a mix of pain and pleasure all at once with a solid dose of attempt to control both. When they've moved up to the designs painted by Odette, and Hermes, and Kalyani, the Dowayne leans in to murmur to the Valerian; whatever she says, it's enough. The sounds escaping the woman-as-canvas are growing in intensity with each passing moment of approaching release.
A sigh escapes the blonde Bryony's lips, and she takes another long drink of icy water. Leaning to shift her weight from one foot to the other, black heels clicking softly against the floor. But her attention is quickly captured by the courtesan's erotic moans, gradually getting louder and more intense. Golda looks up and glances from Genevieve, to Hermes momentarily, and then back to the courtesan, her eyes slightly widened at this development. She'd been slightly disappointed at there being no release for the girl-- but perhaps she had been mistaken.
Gabrielle rose, when the end was quite obviously in sight, brushing off the panels of silk and helping Odette up if she wanted it, squeezing the womans hand, murmuring softly to her. A kiss to Odettes cheek and she started for the door, quiet as a mouse.
Fingers rub and peel, caress and scrape with skill and without all at the same time over the woman's back. Sensations may mix and merge after a while into a single larger one, and as the whispers start the downward spiral it is upon heads and faces that the Duc's eyes find their focus rather than on the bodies themselves. This time he keeps his comments to himself.
With one last cry and a shudder that throws hands off for a brief moment before they land again, Dianna's climax hits. She slumps onto the table in a boneless heap afterwards, expression dazed - and still the courtesans continue to clean the wax away. Slower now, even gentler in some cases, until they're finished and moving away again. Genevieve stays where she is, hand slowly stroking over the collapsed woman's hair in a lazy trail. "Thank you all for joining us," she notes upwards. "This demonstration is finished."
Odette allows herself to be assisted off the floor. She returns a quick kiss to Gabi's cheek and replies, "Of course.. I'll expect you." She looks stern but giggles break her fierce look. "I'm going to stay, for a bit.." She sighs softly and turns her attentions back to the crowd of eager Mandrake courtesans and the moans of the Valerian canvas. She takes a seat in the chair, and closes her eyes just listens to the intermingled cries of pain and bliss. Her fingers wind around the stem of the fine glass as she takes a sip.. a long sip. While the cup is to her lips, she bites the hard glass edge with her front teeth venting her frustraions there. She watches the woman collapse and relaxes, pulling the glass from her mouth.
Gabrielle had paused at the door, watching the last few moments, of the valerian womans release and the traces of wax removed before dipping her head to Genevieve, a soft smile, and disappearing out the door.
Kalyani smiles warmly, lets out a short curtsey, and departs not long after Gabrielle, likely heading for her own House.
The Azzallese Duc takes yet another step back, seating himself upon the closest seat and waiting to finish his drink, task which seems to take him quite some time as it is. He nods to Odette once close, but his attention is still 'over there' for now. Demonstration finished or not.
'Blessed Elua...' is all Golda can think as she watches the courtesan climax and collapse back onto the floor in a pile of languishing pleasure. She'd not seen someone climax as such, without being expressly involved in causing it. She feels a flush in her cheeks, and drinks another swig of ice water to calm it. As Genevieve signals the end of the showing, Dowayne Bryony contemplates going to say her farewells and make a little small talk, but now was certainly not the time. With a grateful tilt of her chin, the blonde takes a few steps up back into the seating, relinquishing her empty glass to a novice nearby. She turns to look again, taking another few steps towards the exit, stealing another glance at the spent Dianna. How fascinating. And how damnably bothering as well. Now she's supposed to return to her quiet House alone? The thought brings an ironic smile to her lips.
At the dismissal from the Dowayne, the courtesans from the hostess' House start to filter away, speaking in low murmurs to each other as they go. Conversations, what can be made out, seem to be about the dowayne's technique, or a boastful claim about leaving a particularly nice mark behind. Down on the stage, Genevieve continues to stroke Dianna's hair until the Valerian's expression starts to clear, slowly returning to the here-and-now. Once she's able to sit upright, she eases to stand, though she leans on the dowayne. Without a word of farewell to anyone else, they start towards the half-hidden exit, mostly supported by the woman in red.
Odette offers a small nod back to the Duc before standing and placing her glass on the chair where she sat. She looks in the direction of the Dowayne and offers a slight curtsy to her in thanks before making her way towards the door. With a look back over her shoulder to where Dianna exits with Dowayne and a gentle sigh, Odette exits the showing room and makes her way back to her room at her House.