Daydreaming

[Nayt]

A dance, a dance, a marvelous dance--a sway to and fro beneath the air of moonlight, and a gallant sweeping a princess off her feet--and a populous confused-- but to what avail! Never before had she felt such a sensation, where had she a true, functional heart within her ribs, it would have pounded so quick and so hard, and her cheeks would have been so red, and every limb, even the tiniest of toes, would have tingled with delight! She swayed with each step, even when Fifteen was drawing her into a full circle of dance and it was perhaps the fault of her shakiness that their bodies slowly inched together, 'til they were pressed upon one another--

--like lovers under the moonlight, his hands upon the small of her back, her arms up, draped over his shoulder--hands clasped loosely behind his neck. Close, pressed up against one another, not looking into the others eyes, but all the while feeling the same as if they had. Like lovers, locked in a dance that felt eternal, allowing their hearts to intertwine and minds to come together in rapture for the glory of their feelings . . .

But she had no heart. For every beat in Fifteen's chest she felt, there was none from her to thud against his ribs, no sensation of her heartbeat, only her breathing. Long, nominal breathes, and the warmth of it as it escaped her lips. The warmth of her breath, the rise and fall of her chest with each soft breath--the only notion she was a true being, alive and well, that she was no corpse. That she could be a normal girl, with just a little work--a slight adjustment of her framework, a fraction of alteration to her body to make her beautiful like any other living being. She certainly needed no adjustment to her psyche; she was as normal as could be, perhaps even more normal than most others!

"Thank you . . ." she whispered.

To look normal--no, to look beautiful. Beautiful like nature, beautiful like that which had no brain and no corpse. She felt a giggle brewing as the compliment had her elated, and mood rising from contented and happy under her state of intoxicated perfection, to a sober enthusiasm. Yet, even then, the knowledge that she'd have blushed if she could, and that--despite knowing Fifteen's prior commitments--she'd have been willing to stay close to him like this until forever's limit . . . that knowledge hadn't worn off. She was sobering, but felt absolutely no need to let go of him, and so long as he was holding her close to him, she was going to take solace in the warmth of his body and remain close, pressed up against him, and happy.

"That--that . . . really . . ."

That means so much . . .

Eroina finally permitted herself a giggle, "I'm so happy . . ."

[supernal]

Fifteen surprised himself with the immediacy of his thoughts. He found that he was not thinking about his past, as men often did when building upon experience, and neither was he thinking about the future, as men of great foresight were wont to do. Both of these were exceedingly strong habits in a noble politician such as Fifteen, which explained his introspective shock. Throughout the whole of his life, he could pick out the instances where his mind was focused on a single moment in his time line on one hand, and more than half of those involved Arethusa.

To think that now was such one time, and that it involved no one and nothing other than the young girl that he held in his arms as such, surprised him. Surprised him in a way he was not accustomed to. He felt that this was not appropriate, that he should break the embrace and let propriety settle back into his limbs and the core of his mind, and yet he could not bring himself to do it. Or rather, he could, but held no desire to act as such.

No no no. He enjoyed their proximity, and reveled in the warmth of the lithe body so readily pressed against his; her scent as well, the whisper of her words when she spoke, and the rhythm of her body as he led them in a circle in the still-present night.

There were things that he wanted to say, things both genuine and built on a foundation of falsehood. You see, as his profession called for it, Fifteen was not unaccustomed to lying. He lied, and did so very well, often resulting in circumstances shifting in the direction he wished them and yielding results he desired. The thing was, he didn’t quite know what he wanted from Eroina. He knew what she could be used for, knew this very well, but is that what he wanted from her?

He opted to say nothing, not for a while.

“Should we be going back inside? I wouldn’t want to attract impromptu attention, stealing away the re-birthday girl and keeping her all to myself.”

Despite the fact that he was serious and had stopped moving, he offered her an easy smile and still held her close. One thing he wanted was to make sure this lasted just a little while longer.

[Nayt]

Her high had, in fact, worn off--but not her affection. For the moment, she retained her position, swaying with Fifteen, pressed up against him. Even while sober it was comforting, something she didn't necessarily want to give up, even if he didn't believe he should be occupying too much of her time.

"You can, you can," Eroina replied reassuringly.

Truth be told, she had no reservations about staying out there all night, and thus her response to him. Were she not outside--or with Fifteen altogether, she'd have just been moving around, socializing with different groups each time. Of course, Eroina didn't mind that at all. She loved meeting new people! It just so happened that she really liked this person, and while she did intend to move on eventually (maybe even find Baleron and the other man, both of whom she promised that she would come find at some juncture), she could still spend a little extra time with him. If he wanted to, of course. As a noble, he must have had tons of ideas of how they could spend their time!

"I was just . . . wandering around, anyways," the girl continued, "No one is going to notice me gone for a little while. They're all having fun on their own."

It was not like anyone was going to be too concerned with her disappearance. Of course, she'd have to come back eventually, but for the time being, she could be like this--or, for that matter, they could return to the opium dens if that's what Fifteen wanted to do, or something along those lines. She was open and especially trusting that Fifteen wouldn't do anything to overtly harm her. She was trusting of strangers, anyways, and it only took one act of kindness to have her fully trusting the person. Bringing her into a romantic moment through any means, so long as she was willing the entire time, not only merited her trust, but to a certain extent, her "heart"--as easy it was to worm one's way into there.

Fifteen had done just that, and if he wanted to go back inside, she'd pull away from him and be wholly willing to return inside, but if he wanted to stay out for just a little longer, she was willing to do that, too. For that matter, if he wanted to go to the opium rooms, a bedroom for more private conversation, or to the dining room where they could eat and hold public discussion, she was also more than willing.

[supernal]

“For a little while.”

He whispered, to himself, softly. Fifteen had garnered that habit when he was younger, something along the lines of a seven or eight year old. He would mimic back a piece of speech that inspired within him a flare of thought; a hundred and one connections branching out and igniting all at the same time to offer him incisive clarity into a situation at hand.

She was the princess for a day, after all, and it was her birthday. Surely someone, at one point or another, somewhere in the castle was looking or waiting for her.

“Well, I see no reason why we can’t have the best of both worlds.”

As he spoke, he still held her tight, and so had no need to speak more than two notches above a whisper. He continued to move them in the tight circle of night he had shrouded them in. The air, hot when charged by the sun, was cool and refreshing as it passed into the arms of his nightshade; it played with Eroina’s hair sweetly and blew his own hair aside.

She smelled of lilacs.

“I’ll go with you, if you’ve to be somewhere. To visit someone, I will visit those someones with you. That way, we can spend what assuredly little time we have together while you also get to know the others a bit as well. What do you think?”

Now he unraveled them, for now was the moment of truth. He pried himself away from her though held her a bit closer than arm’s length, for he was most definitely not shunning her or anything of the sort. But how awkward would it have been if she decided to tally off by herself and they were still in each other’s arms?

That simply won’t do at all.

[Nayt]

With distance put between them, the girl found herself a little bit disappointed. She had rather enjoyed the proximity to Fifteen that she had, but all good things had to come to an end sometime. Nonetheless, she rested her hands upon Fifteen's chest and looked up at him, focusing upon his eyes, and smiling all the while--a sober smile, cheerful and innocent, intoxicated only by un-life.

It seemed almost as if her tri-toned eyes glimmered as she stared up at Fifteen. Eroina hadn't seen enough people in her life to adequately judge some men as more handsome than others, but Fifteen certainly had to rank up there somewhere, that she had concluded. It helped that she really enjoyed being around him in general, of course--and that his eyes, golden as they were, entranced her to stare, and no matter the potential for discomfort or disappointment in herself, she could only look away from his eyes for so long.

"Hmmmm . . . ." Eroina hummed in thought.

Somewhere to be, somewhere to be. Did she have somewhere to be? Oh! That's right! She did! Eroina was supposed to go meet Baleron and that hooded man, both separately, of course. As she thought about it, Eroina remembered that she was actually supposed to meet the latter fellow in private, and stay for a relatively private conversation with him, where the decency of clothing was not supposed to matter. She was flustered just by remembering it. Nothing to worry about, though! Not just yet, at least . . .

"There were a couple of people I said I'd go see later, umm . . . one was named Baleron, he was the super nice guy with the mask--I told him I'd come talk to him later. And there was the man wearing this hood and . . . I . . . um, I didn't get a good look at his face, and I don't think he told me his name . . . but I told him I'd come to see him later, too . . ." Eroina spoke softer and softer with each word, as she realized just how scant the information was that she actually had. Where they were going to be, she had no clue.

But they could still find 'em! After all, one was distinguishable by his hood and cloak, and as he didn't seem to remove it at all whilst he was amidst the party, it wouldn't be too difficult to spot him amongst a crowd, or perhaps ask a party member if they had seen him recently. The same applied to Baleron. The man was wearing a mask, one outlandish and borderline dark compared to some of the lighter, happier masks that citizens of the Rift sometimes wore. It wouldn't be hard to find him at all, either. Eroina hoped so, at least.

[supernal]

That name immediately brought forth the image of that squalid captain guard, with his mask and his necklace and his coarse personality the likes that Fifteen hadn’t had the displeasure of brushing up against since the year or so that he spent amongst the nomadic tribe of the Gorbellies. Fifteen had a little place in his heart, filled to the brim with hate, for men like Baleron. He absolutely loathed rudeness, more so when it came from the same gender as himself. Men like Baleron gave the male gender a bad name, made them brutish, and that was not at all how Fifteen preferred to be viewed.

Ah, but it was dear, sweet Eroina’s wish to pay the man a visit and exchange words, so he would do just that. He would swallow his pride and his rancor, for the time being at least, and reserve himself.

“Well then, no reason why we should spend our time out here when you’ve people waiting for your audience. I know what I’d feel like if I was expecting time with the darling Eroina, and wouldn’t want them to suffer the same injustice.”

Fifteen raised his hand and waved it at the lens of nightshade above them; with a flick of his wrist, the whole thing suffered deep, veiny cracks as if struck by a hammer. Shards of darkness thus were bade to fall, and they glittered purple with specks of silver starlight as they fell to the ground, turning to little more than wondrous smoke when they touched ground, taken to the skies to mix with the clouds.

His hands came to rest on her shoulders and he smiled deeply into Eroina’s tri-toned eyes; he then leaned in and placed his lips softly against the supple skin of her cheek before drawing back, allowing his hand to trail from her shoulder, down the length of her arm, before cupping her hand in his (though he was not yet brazen enough to dare ‘twine their fingers; as they were now, it was innocent enough).

“Shall you lead the way?”

[Nayt]

Such compliments! Eroina giggled at Fifteen's notion that time with her was a luxury, and that anyone depriving another of it was an outright injustice. She didn't believe so, herself, thinking herself much more like an average girl than some sort of luxurious company--she tried to think that way, at least. Obviously, Eroina was far from average, being a construct of science and all, but she liked to at least try.

That had been why she was so awkward during the gift giving process; she was so young, mentally, and didn't know what it was like to be a princess, even if it was only for a day. The honor just felt like too much, at first. She'd started to have fun with it eventually--not ordering anyone around or anything, but jumping around from crowd to crowd and reveling in the attention and kindness she received. It was nice, but only for a day. If she were a real princess, every day of her life, she might not have appreciated it as much.

It made her wonder about Arethusa, though. Fifteen was a delight to be around, and she could have described him the same as he did her! --that depriving someone like Arethusa time from Fifteen would have been a tragedy, but Eroina wasn't mentally developed enough to know that level of selflessness. If she had the opportunity to spend time with Fifteen, she was going to, if only because she doubted that she ever would again after this. Arethusa had him forever, right? So . . . so she could have him for a night, then! It was only fair . . .

"Sure~!" Eroina exclaimed as she shut her eyes and started forward.

The erasure of the night had gone unnoticed by the girl, who would have tugged Fifteen along had she the strength to do it. Though he felt he didn't have the right to do more than cup her hand, Eroina had actually made it a point to intertwine her fingers with his, and started ahead. She actually had no idea where she was going in particular . . . it was going to be a time of wandering around, wading around and waiting for the potential of bumping into one of the two people she was looking for at the moment.