{To Clear One's Head}, {Open Topic}

[Mashiara]

Hellen looked around her, feeling less appealing here in this place... It had been a long time since she had travelled... Long it seemed, anyway. A number of years ago she had made her way to Temeris, to Bavarat city from foreign parts. Some said she was touched with Elvish blood, but really she's just from another place, where more bronzed skin and more exotic features are the common traits.

Still, the aged beauty lurking beneath an old travelling cloak is curious, silently taking in Tarras Citadel... She had heard of the place, but had never been... A pirate she had known sprung into her mind as she noted a shoppe selling nautical wares and supposed gold and the like said to be dredged up from the depths of the sea...

Her cloak was heavily-embroidered in gold thread, the fabric of a creamy tan colour... Time had worn at it, though, as had hard travel, so that it appeared to be a yellow thread decorating a light brown cloth. The patterns were lovely, but the somewhat raggedy design was not very comendable for a royal city.

Still, she wove her way among the crowd, simple green skirts flatteringly swirling around smooth legs and hips, carrying her towards what she thought was the... Oh dear, what was the name? Ah yes, The Aylmer Inn. If she could find a way to earn herself a room, she could sleep there, in better accomodations and neighborhood than she could at The Rotten Grape. Still, The Grape was better than nothing at all.

Sidling through the street, she watched the people pass, slipping her cloak from her back, and folding it neatly over one arm to better show her face and the aspects that her gown revealed. Keeping her chin up and eyes alert, she fixed a small smirk on her lips, determined to show her ease and composure even though she simple wanted a room in which to nap after her journey.

[Akedhi]

He is on his way to Aylmer's Inn. He is a young (ish) nobleman, in his early thirties with a face younger by ten years. (It's the freckles.) He dresses well, his clothing cut to hide the beginnings of a paunch--he's going to be one of those fat old men when he actually gets old--and make him look handsome.

It works pretty well, in fact.

He is riding, as only the wealthy nobles can afford to in the city, a showy chestnut gelding--he is a skilled horseman, but only as long as the horse in question is well-behaved, and stallions often are not--that almost matches his hair. (Which will be thinning in a few years, if not sooner.)

The woman is in his way.

He does not particularly mind this, as she's more than worth looking at. (And probably tumbling, too, if she's willing. And maybe if she's not, though that doesn't happen much. It's bad form to refuse a nobleman what he wants.)

He brings his horse alongside her and smiles down at her.

"Good day then."

[Mashiara]

A little feather of fear tickled her backbone. That was a feeling she had not felt in a long time...

Still, she turned the little smirk up to the voice coquettishly, eyes studying the man who had uttered them.

"Good day to you, Sir. Your pardon: I did not mean to get underfoot..."

Lashes coyly fluttering, she swept her skirts out of the way a bit, necessarily bending slightly, and emphasizing certain points of interest in the action.

I imagine at this point that the idea of tumbling would depend on what sort of place the tumbling would be happening in: she is tired, after all...

[Akedhi]

Very nice. Very nice indeed. He approves.

"Would you like a ride, mistress?"

... to where he's going, not wherever it is that she plans to go. He is not averse to installing a mistress, if he feels like it. He's a widower. He can afford to.

Why not?

He offers her a hand, the fingers of which are faintly stubby, the palm of which has no callouses at all. He's hardly a warrior.

[Mashiara]

Mistress or no, riding beats walking most of the time, so she's game.

Smiling and nodding her thanks, she takes his hand in a smooth, bronzed one, accepting his aid and resting behind him, thighs sliding around him snugly as her arms encircle his waist. She might snuggle a little closer than necessary, but holding interest is a good thing.

It was such a sweet offer... there would surely be a nice place at the end of the ride,... she hoped. She noted the lack of callouses, as well as the dress. He hardly seemed the sort to find nature attractive. Things boded well for a nice room to rest her head in, if all went well.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to let her eyes slipped closed, giving her a moment of reprieve before she needed to act.

[Akedhi]

Dylan is quite content to have the woman's arms around his waist. He'd like it better if there weren't so much cloth in the way.

The ride is short enough, and the destination is reached fairly quickly. (If he cheated a little bit and trotted through less crowded streets, no guards saw him, or if they did, they didn't want to bother a nobleman. Ah, the perks of nobility.)

"We're here, mistress." He takes her hands and releases himself from the circle of her arms, dismounts and smiles up at her.

"What do you think of the accomodations, hm?"

It's a nice inn.

[Mashiara]

"Charming. I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of visiting it... "

She paused a bit, waiting for help down. Of course she did the classic stumbling bit, catching herself against him, pausing just a moment with her face an inch or so beneath his... the usual.

Smiling self-deprecatingly, she stood, smoothing her skirts.

"Would such an important man have time for the tour?"

Of the inn, of course. And she doesn't really know if he's important or not, but it's generally not a bad idea to flatter a possible patron.

[Akedhi]

He's puffed up like a rooster in a henhouse. Important or not, he obviously thinks he is.

"Certainly. But first..."

He takes her hand and kisses it, slathering her with charm. (Or perhaps the word should be slavering. He has an eye for a pretty face and a pretty body, does Dylan.)

"I am Lord Dylan d'Felain. And you, my dear?"

[Mashiara]

"Lord? My... you are important."

Overdramatic sigh.

"My name is Hellen: Hellen Dervish."

She fluttered her lashes a bit, letting her fingers linger in a soft caress.

[Akedhi]

Well, she's certainly good at this. He'll probably keep her, as opposed to tumbling and then tossing her.

"A pleasure to meet you, Hellen. Come. I'll show you my rooms first."

He takes her arm possessively and strolls his way into the inn.

Naturally, he's showing her his rooms first. That's where she's going to stay.

[Mashiara]

Stay. Sit. Roll over.

Funny how similar the commands for dogs are when compared to the commands on those in her occupation.

Still, she smiled, making it seem unaffected though she felt rather mopey on the inside. No sense in showing such a thing. Besides, the heart had nothing to do with this, nor really the mind beyond a few basic actions.

It was more an art than a series of thoughts now...

"Mmm, if your taste in suites is as seemly as your taste in apparel, then I can hardly dislike them..."

Smiling sweetly, she posed herself on his arm to best show herself off to others they might pass. It would be good for business in the area if men could see her worth. Besides, jealousy was a useful tool.

[Akedhi]

Indeed, so long as the jealousy doesn't get out of control. Dylan is more the sort to puff himself up (more) than he is to get jealous if he notices other people watching the woman on his arm.

It pleases him to be envied.

Another reason to keep her.

And she flatters him. He happens to have quite an exaggerated good opinion of himself, and anyone who agrees with it must be correct.

"Oh, this is only a decent inn, for traveling. You ought to see the manor at Felain, in the northern marches."

[Mashiara]

"Perhaps someday I will have the pleasure, though..."

A feigned bit of a blush was put on as they moved through the inn.

"I must admit, I can't really think beyond this tour. Tell me, though. How big is your... manor?"

Yes, she was putting it on a bit thick: but he seemed to eat it up...

[Akedhi]

Just a bit thick, and he does eat it up, so it's all good. If she wants to wrap him around her finger, it's certainly a good way to go about it.

He preens.

"Oh, certainly not as large as the palace, but I like to think it's one of the better manors in Temeris." In other words, it's rather small, but he is lavish in his decoration and in his amenities.

Nothing like that burned out wreck one estate over.

"Perhaps I will take you there."

[Mashiara]

Burned out? Do tell!

She smiles turning to face him while simultaneously ignoring an appraising look from one of the occupants of the common room.

"Well by all appearances you have excellent taste: it comes as no surprise that that should be mirrored in your choice of abode."

It seems she's suddenly grown quite the vocabulary. Well, she's had a lot of practice with reading and flirting with all sorts of men, spanning almost every level - from the shepherd who's saved up some of his earnings for his first tumble, to a married nobleman seeking a little release *ahem*.

"Well it is exceedingly generous for you to make such an offer... I hope I catch your... interest, and that you may feel suitably led to make good on the almost-offer."

A little hint of mischief about the lips, and a quick wink might or might not have been distractions from a subtle brush against his thigh with one hand.

But the touch was light, and gone again before any accusation or reaction could be made.

[Akedhi]

Oh, you know the story. Terrible tragedy and all that. The whole Syretti family, up in flames.

"My, my, as intelligent as you are beautiful." His tone is vaguely condescending, rather as if he is indulging her, though he doesn't much want to.

Strike one. I'm afraid Dylan is oldfashioned that way. Women aren't supposed to have brains.

On the other hand, clever women are quite good at paying compliments, and this one is quite lovely. It is definitely a plus...

He'll overlook it, as long as she keeps in mind her station.

"Shall we see the rest of the inn, my dear?"

[Mashiara]

It's early in the seduction, and she's feeling him out. Give her a little time and she'll learn the ins and outs of keeping him happy.

Smiling, she nodded.

"Oh, please."

Her lashes fluttered at him a bit, lips plumping thoughtfully, though she let her expression turn a bit air-headed. She could be intelligent while appearing witless. After all, she'd had enough practice at it - enough to shame a village idiot.

Station, check. The submissive (if he likes that sort of thing) female.

Mind you that playing the role doesn't limit her to it.

"I wonder why no one else dresses quite as nicely as you do..."

She mused faintly 'to herself'.

[Akedhi]

Goodness, Hellen, you're going to inflate his ego. It really doesn't need any help.

He preens at her observation, even if he wasn't supposed to hear it, and smiles.

"It's a talent of mine, my dear." Yes, very talented. That, and he wouldn't 'make friends and influence people' if he looked like a slightly chubby, middle-aged man well on his way to obscurity as the lord of a small estate.

He catches their eyes, then he worms his way into their good graces, and clings on tooth and nail to stay there.

And up the stairs they go.

[Mashiara]

It helps her, for now...

Mm, up the stairs is good: a few steps nearer a place to rest her head. Her eyes wander mischievously to his. Though those aren't the only things wandering. But it isn't overt, no... She isn't sure if that would be a turn off yet, so she'll take things slowly.