Dance of the sugarplum fairies

Larka

POSTED: Sat Jan 05, 2019 8:33 pm

Rozenn
Word Count → 682 :: Out of Character text

Though the sun was yet a far off daydream, Roz was awake. She sat on the cold, hard ground with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her silvery purple eyes pointed skyward. It was so much harder to sleep alone when you'd grown used to a warm body at your side. Noel and Roz had never been romantic, but like many of their canine brethren, they'd enjoyed sleeping in a tight den with their bodies wrapped 'round one another for warmth. All that was gone now.

Noel still hadn't returned from wherever he'd disappeared off to. Some part of Rozenn worried for his safety and another part cursed him for abandoning her. Whatever had happened to him, she'd joined the Cartel. It was different from what she'd seen when she was with Noel. Then, there had only really been men (at least that she saw). Now, counting herself, there were 3.

Tamara was a dark, serious looking girl. Very beautiful, but very distant so far. Larka… now Larka was a beautiful specimen of a woman. She was near to Rozenn's build and age, but one look from John had prevented her from asking her too many questions. She'd seemed quiet and withdrawn. The polar opposite of Roz.

The sun finally began to peer over the horizon, stretching long fingers to pinken the sky. I suppose that means it's time to get up. Not that I was ever asleep. She pulled the blanket further over her shoulders and stood to her feet. It took a few more tries than she was proud of to start up a tiny little fire to heat up the last of her jerky, but the blanket kept getting in the way. Rozenn cursed at her southern heritage and finally gave up. It was time to put on real clothes.

She folded the blanket and pulled out her meager wardrobe. What to wear today? Well, for starters, she knew she needed her leg warmers. They were simple pieces of ivory fur that she wrapped tight around her calves with her brightest blue ribbons. The dye was uneven, to the point of being white in some places, but she liked the effect. Then, she pulled on the dark red wool skirt up to beneath her breasts where she tied it in place. It still trailed the ground, but it would do. The wool was heavier than she liked, but it worked well for the weather. Finally, she completed her ensemble with a white hid vest lined in white rabbit fur. A prized possession and one of the rare gifts from her mother that she'd chosen to keep. Her arms, adorned with a number of ribbons and bangles and bracelets, were left bare to the elements.

Feeling burdened by all the materials, Roz stretched her arms to the sky and then down to the earth, letting her hips tilt backwards to ease the exercise. One by one, she pulled her tight muscles into flexibility and warmed them to a pleasant temperature. By the time she was done, the sun was visible in the sky and the other Cartel members seemed to begin their own morning routines.

Aware that she would be seen, but not caring, Rozenn began to twist and turn, letting her red skirt twirl out around her and then spin back tight against her legs. It had a calming effect, but calm was the last thing she needed right now. She was a storm of emotions that needed release. Without warning, her arms flew into the air and her legs spun her in a quick spin. She became a flurry of movement with legs hidden beneath the heavy ripples of wine dark wool, their true directions kept a secret until the rest of the body followed suit. Her dance took her to the outskirts of camp, her breath a cloud of fog about her face, mixing with her dark, bouncing curls that caught the first few snowflakes and held them in captivity. Rozenn didn't feel the cold, only the liquid fire of the adrenaline pumping in her veins.

Gave away her soul to buy a bit of pleasure, the bitter pleasure

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Rozenn


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Kris
Luperci

POSTED: Sun Jan 06, 2019 10:27 am

(+000)

I'm looking forward to writing with you again! <3

It was the quiet moments which proved to be both blissful and difficult. Larka lay awake, her ears tipped to listen to John’s rhythmic snoring. The girl shared her protector’s shelter, yet chose to settle a respectful distance from the male. Her whiskers twitched as she yawned widely, and inhaled the coyote’s comforting scent. She had lost track of how long she had been with The Cartel, as her time flowed pleasantly slow now. John had kept his promise to her - Larka did not need to use the skills Rabenhur instilled in her to survive.

They still stared, of course; they were men. The waif was one of only the small number of females that made up the group. Larka was less fearful of the women she shared camp with, but she was at a loss of how to connect with them. In her experience, her sex either competed with her for clients or nurtured her in the way a mother might. There was the wolfish Tamara, polite and guarded toward the world. Earthen-pelted Briarblack who seemed to twitch with nerves or excitement, the girl had not decided yet.

Lastly there was the newest addition, Rozenn. She appeared to be of a similar age to Larka, but that was where the comparison ended. Where lavender eyes glittered in the coydog’s direction, her own gaze swiftly shot downward. Larka scrubbed at her eyes, in an attempt to motivate herself to move. In her sleepless state, it seemed pointless to attempt falling back into the desirable comfort of her furs and blankets. She rose and dressed quietly in the things John had given her.

The sun was making its ascent as Larka left her cocooned world behind. She scanned her companions for signs of work to be done, only to stop as a flash of colour caught her attention. She recognised Rozenn as she drew knew, twirling and dancing with held breath. The clothing was as much a part of the dance as her movements. It followed the contours of the silvery girl’s body as it swept in an arc, and the chiming of her decorations was music in itself.

Larka saw a kindred soul in the young coyote. This was how she liked to move when no-one was looking. She smiled shyly at the expression that was creeping like the sun light’s across Rozenn’s face. Dance was her art, her escape too. The coydog’s tail wagged lightly behind her as she clasped both hands neatly in front of her. “Good morning Rozenn. Do you enjoy dancing? You look happy.”

Last edited by Larka on Wed Jan 09, 2019 3:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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POSTED: Sun Jan 06, 2019 6:22 pm

Rozenn
Word Count → 279 :: Out of Character text

Blood pounding in her ears and stars dancing before her eyes, she swung around full circle, one leg outstretched before her. She swung herself into a loose split with her red skirt splayed out about her. Before her stood the tiny girl that John had brought to the cartel. Larka. The quiet one.

Chest heaving with the exertion of her dance, she smiled up at the orange eyed beauty. "Morning!" She pulled herself up out of the splits, dusting the skirt and shaking it loose as she went. She ran her fingers through her dark curls to pull them out of her eyes. "I do. I really do. I've dreamed of it since I was a little girl and when I finally got to shift, I've been living the dream."

Rozenn's life, for whatever reason, had been full of hurdles and trials where the world did everything in its path to prevent her from living her life of dancing and artistry. Splaying her fingers across her hips, she took a wide stance across from Larka, oozing self confidence and open charisma. "How about you Larka? Do you enjoy dancing as well?"

Roz's violet gaze traveled from the top of the coydog's red-haired crown to the bottom of her feet. "You've got the body for it," she observed. For once, her gaze wasn't lustful, merely curious.

The two girls standing across from one another were flip sides of the same coin. Roughly the same size and build, one was silvery and cool. Her body spoke of charm and magnetism and brilliant self-esteem. The other was warm and orange, but reserved and withdrawn in comparison to her momentary companion.

Gave away her soul to buy a bit of pleasure, the bitter pleasure

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Last edited by Rozenn on Sat Jan 19, 2019 7:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Rozenn


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Kris
Luperci

POSTED: Fri Jan 11, 2019 2:53 pm

(+000)

OOC text

Larka thought she understand how Rozenn felt. The exhilaration of creating one’s own movements and giving form to the emotions buried within in. This world was her private sanctuary when she couldn’t understand what was happening. Or when she did not want to comprehend it. When the girl danced for others, her limbs felt like lead that she had to fight against. Once she realised the thrill of dancing for herself was greater than performing for the pleasure of another, she knew she had to perfect her act.

Her ears perked at Rozenn’s greeting, and she pushed her thoughts aside. Larka watched as the female drew herself up from an uncomfortable seeming position on the ground and wondered how she managed it. With both legs akimbo beneath her, how did she not hurt herself? The waif tilted her head to one side as she listened to Rozenn’s story. “I am happy for you.” The edges of her muzzle drew upwards painfully; smiling with genuine intent was more difficult than the ghostly smiles she had practised.

“How do you do that movement with your legs?” Larka gestured with her hands, unwilling to test her own flexibility in the face of her superior. She watched the way the other girl moved with ease. Rozenn appeared to be comfortable with herself, unflinching from the attention she was likely to draw. The coydog nodded tentatively before answering. “Oh yes. I have danced for most of my life, but only recently have I found my own way.”

She shifted from one foot to the other beneath Rozenn’s violet stare. The other remarked that she had the body of a dancer and an echo of a such a memory resurfaced from the depths. For a heartbeat Larka froze as the recollection played out, eyes glazed out of focus as phantom hands snaked over her. A hollow reply left her lips, “I t-thank you.” Her training reminded her to compliment the client in turn as she added, “As do you. You attract much attention, I imagine.”

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Luperci You have to love yourself a fire

POSTED: Sat Jan 19, 2019 7:30 pm

Rozenn
Word Count → 408 :: Out of Character text

Roz struggled not to wince at Larka's awkward smile. She couldn't quite tell if the other girl was jealous or in pain or if that was just how the poor thing smiled. Either way, Rozenn hoped to one day see a happier, less forced-seeming one from her. She didn't realize that this was a real one and that all the others she would grow used to seeing pointed at others were the fakes.

"Hmm?" She tilted her head, curls bouncing about her face. "You mean just now? You just split your legs as far apart as you can. It's easier if you do them this way," she placed her legs in the same position as before, though she didn't go down near as far. "If one's in front and one's in the back you kinda just lower yourself into it." Then she sat down on the ground and spread her legs as far apart as they could go before rolling over so that her groin rather than her rear was the one nearest to the ground. There was a rather sizeable space left over that was hidden by her skirts yet still noticeable. "I can't quite get it as far this way."

Again she pulled out of it, this time standing to her feet and rocking back and forth on her heels to watch her skirt swish. "It takes quite a bit of practice to get that far from what I've seen. Even Noel can't go as far as I can, and he's the one who taught me my stretches!" It had always been a competition for her. She'd been so proud when she'd finally bested her companion, though he hadn't really seemed to care.

Roz beamed at Larka's observation. "Of course I do. I do it on purpose you know." She whispered the last line and emphatically winked at the end. She loved to have all eyes on her. It built up the fire in her chest that burned so fiercely when she danced. "Noel hated it, but it was how we pulled off our biggest heists. I would distract and then he would take whatever needed to be taken. Worked most every time too."

"You know," she hummed to herself before finishing the statement. "You attract some attention yourself. But you don't mean to do you?" The waifish woman's warm coloring and fair face would do her no good if she meant to remain hidden.

Gave away her soul to buy a bit of pleasure, the bitter pleasure

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Rozenn


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Kris
Luperci

POSTED: Sun Feb 17, 2019 1:24 pm

Word Count → 000 :: ooc

Larka’s fingers tugged at the hem of her poncho as the girl demonstrated her movements. With each extension of a limb, she would tug at the fabric over and over. Rozenn made it look effortless, with her thick curls bouncing from one shoulder to the other. She could only watch as the lavender-eyed girl lowered herself to the ground, all the while she spoke as if it did not strain her. “It looks difficult. Does it… not hurt you?”

Her brows rose and her face softened in to one of genuine concern. Rozenn bounced onto her heels and swayed her hips, causing the fabric of her skirt to form waves. The dancer reminded Larka that it took practise to achieve the move, and mentioned a man had taught her how to do it. It didn’t make sense that such a vibrant young woman could be enslaved, like her. “Who is Noel? I don’t think I’ve meet him.”

A wink and a whisper, the currency of her world. Yet Larka was not being asked to do anything in this case. The girl blinked slowly, wondering what she had missed in the other’s words. Another skill that belonged to her world - reading between the lines of a client’s words. Some were shy or even ashamed to approach a slave, she had been taught. Sometimes, they needed coaxing. Rozenn carried on blithely, as she revealed what else she used her talents for.

“Heist?” She repeated the word, unsure of its meaning. It sounded like stealing when the female described it. Rozenn seemed to enjoy it - using her dancing as a distraction, whilst Noel took what they needed. “What would happen if you got caught?” The question left her lips before she could help herself.

When Rozenn mentioned that the amber-eyed girl likely drew attention to herself for her looks too, her shoulders dipped. Ears folded, head tilted to the earth, only a subtle nod in answer.

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Ketsuki
Luperci You have to love yourself a fire

POSTED: Tue Feb 26, 2019 5:45 pm

Rozenn
Word Count → 388 :: Out of Character text

"Hurt?" Rozenn chuckled and shook her head. "So long as you work up to it slowly, you shouldn't hurt. It is a little uncomfortable when you push yourself farther, but you shouldn't hurt yourself. That's when you know you've gone too far."

Roz's ears flicked down quickly before perking back up. It wouldn't do to be sad. He wasn't dead. Just missing. "Noel's the one who introduced me to the Cartel. I haven't seen him in a while, though." She smiled at Larka. "I'd say he's probably my best friend. And I'm his, though he'd never admit it." It was a complicated relationship, but only because he liked to deny it. Anyone else could see how easy it could be. "I'm sure he'll find us soon."

Larka's concern was something else that warmed Rozenn's heart. She was honestly surprised by it. The other girl was so enclosed, so shy, that Rozenn had almost suspected that she would withhold empathy as well until she learned to trust. It would probably be better not to scare her with the dirty truth of her work just yet. So with a shrug she flippantly said, "I don't know. Depends on who caught us I guess."

Thoughtfully, Rozenn crossed her arms and hummed. Larka was soft and unobtrusive. She wanted to be a wallflower where Rozenn thrived in the center. She wanted to be what Noel had always wanted Rozenn to be. The dancer snapped her fingers and smiled. "Then I've got just the thing!"

Rozenn bounced into position and linked her arm with Larka's. "Follow me, and I'll get you something." Together, they walked. This time, Rozenn allowed Larka to set the pace of her gait though the lavender-eyed girl gently guided her new friend towards her things. Once they arrived at the glorified sack, Roz released the russet-haired girl and threw it open, digging through the contents. Finally she pulled out a long pale green dress and a white shawl. The dress was simple linen with a few buttons at the bosom and the shawl was of woven wool thread, some pulled out of pattern here and there. "Tada! Noel got these for me a while back, but they're not really my style. Why don't' you try them on? If you don't like them we can try something else."

Gave away her soul to buy a bit of pleasure, the bitter pleasure

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Rozenn


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Kris
Luperci

POSTED: Wed Mar 06, 2019 8:57 am

Word Count → 000 :: ooc

Larka smiled, unable to hold back laughter as Rozenn cheerfully described her relationship to Noel. The lavender-eyed girl was infectious, and simply sharing her space was like basking in the warmth of the sun. She felt a little freer, the knot in her chest slipping loose as she pivoted her ears forward to listen.

“I like you, miss.” Spoken in tones of innocence, Rozenn was certain to hear the sincerity in her speech. Larka shifted from foot to foot as she tried to copy the female’s pose. She felt stiff, as though invisible hands were forcing her body into an unnatural position. The coydog eventually settled for resting one arm against her stomach, whilst the other hung at her side.

It depends on who caught them? Rozen appeared to shrug off the dangers she could be putting herself and Noel into. As though she had not considered them before Larka had brought it up. “So it is safe then? I don’t like it, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Auburn waves billowed across Larka’s face as she dipped her head against her chest. “I would not want to see you come to harm, Rozenn.”

Copper-tipped ears flicked toward the other as she started to hum. Larka didn’t recognise the tune, but the sound felt oddly comforting. Briefly her mind was alive with the sounds of a crackling fire and soft furs cradling her small body. Memories or figments of other’s stories she could not tell.

The spell was broken as Rozenn announced she had an idea, and brushed her arm against Larka’s. Rozenn allowed her to set the pace, occasionally stumbling over her own feet as she was directed softly. Meanwhile the lavender eyed beauty chirped that she had something to give. She attempted to protest, only to mumble awkwardly. The glimmer in Rozenn’s eyes caused her throat to seize up.

They stopped at a bag. Rozenn released her, and began to rummage in the pack for something. Larka pinched at the skin on her wrist as she waited. A shimmer of spring-like green burst found itself in the silvery woman’s hands, followed by a pale scarf. Larka gasped, her jaw falling open and eyes widening. Rozenn let out a cry of delight as she suggested the coydog should try them on.

“A gift, for me?” Larka handled the dress as though holding a sacred object. A gift from the gods, or goddess in Rozenn’s case. The warmth in her eyes cooled as she turned to look the other in the eyes. “I cannot accept this. It is not that I’m ungrateful for your kindness… I truly truly am.” A hand reaches up to entangle itself in the mess of her hair. “I...have done nothing to earn it.”

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Luperci You have to love yourself a fire

POSTED: Thu Apr 04, 2019 9:20 pm

Rozenn
Word Count → 275 :: Out of Character text

"Safe as it can be," she comforted her newfound companion with a warmth stirring in the pit of her stomach. 'I like you' wasn't the most spectacular or mind-blowing compliment that had ever been given to her, but somehow it felt the single most sincere thing that had been said to her since she'd arrived in the Cartel. It took everything in her to not grin like a fool at it.

Their short trip was just that: short. Far too short. Rozenn found herself enjoying the closeness of the other girl. Her smell, her warmth, her beauty, they were all things the coyote girl wished to keep near her. It was a pity that Rozenn knew better. Larka wasn't Roz's to keep. She was more like a butterfly than a pet. If she were held too closely, she would be crushed and die. She had to be given her space. Perhaps in time, Rozenn could learn to be a flower for the butterfly to rest on whenever she felt weary. Perhaps in time, that would be enough.

"It's a gift, Larka!" Rozenn's peals of laughter filled the cold air around them. "You don't earn gifts!" Rozenn placed a gentle hand on the bare shoulder nearest to her. "Look, if you really don't want it, you can leave it here with me. But it'll be yours until you decide to give it or sell it to someone else." Obviously, Roz wasn't about to force her hand-me-downs on the girl, but there was no real reason for Larka to turn down a perfectly good dress just because she didn't think she had 'earned' it.

Gave away her soul to buy a bit of pleasure, the bitter pleasure

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Rozenn


User avatar
Kris
Luperci

POSTED: Tue Apr 09, 2019 9:29 am

Word Count → 200+ :: ooc

Larka was not certain that her new friend’s words were true. Not knowing any better, she kept silent and simply enjoyed Rozenn’s company. Spending time with women felt easier; the near-constant knot in her stomach eased. Rozenn’s light touches did not threaten to go beyond the platonic. She did not need to question the mischievous glint in lavender eyes.

There was no play at dominance, either. Not with the darker girl. Larka did not know how to accept a gift that came freely, however, and her ears lowered on her crown. Rozenn laughed, a sound that seemed to warm the chilly air around them. Had she said something strange? The auburn-haired girl tilted her head to one side as the dark girl explained she did not have to keep the clothing.

“No, no it is not that!” Larka clutched the dress closer to her as her muzzle creased in a frown. It could be so hard to define to others her reasoning. Especially to those not like her. It was not their fault, yet it still complicated her relationships. Even to the former slave it proved to be difficult; her childhood had consisted of unspoken rules and brutal reality. “I will keep it, and look after it well. Thank you my friend, Rozenn.”

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