(1310-10-16) Hunting Pleasure
Summary: The Somerville heir meets the Second of Red Roses, seeking a contract.
RL Date: 15-16/10/2018
Related: None
severine timothee 

La Rose Sauvage — Night Court

A huge hearth of black marble, with gargoyles of stone adorning the mantlepiece, governs the foyer of the Salon de la Rose Sauvage, which emanates a certain dark air, the interior design of the more heavy sort, that could easily be encountered in a gentleman's club, especially with the dark cherry wood wainscoting used on the walls. Dark leather upholstery is predominant in the furniture of chaise longues, couches and long-backed chairs that are arranged in a half-circle, leaving space in the center for courtesans (or patrons) to kneel for an inspection. Three tall windows with circular stained-glass insets are framed by dark red curtains of heavy brocade, a few golden threads worked into the fabric catching occasionally the light of flickering oil lamps at the walls. The lamps light a pair of portrait paintings, of the two founders of the salon, Edouard Shahrizai and his cousin Annabelle no Mandrake, resplendent in their dark Kusheline appeal; and a cabinet in a corner, holding a number of quality wines and a flagon of uisghe.

The foyer has a high ceiling, and a gallery beyond a balustrade of dark teak wood, carved in the shapes of gargoyles. Sometimes a few veiled creatures can be spotted up there, stealing glances at what is going on below; from the gallery, which can be reached by ascending some winding stairs at the back of the foyer. Beside the stairs leading up is a hallway on ground level, leading further into the building to where the offices of the leader of the salon and his two Seconds can be found, along with the two wings of private quarters for roses of Mandrake and Valerian canon.

It is evening at the Salon de la Rose Sauvage. Only a few people are scattered in the room. A Thorn, sitting in a heavy chair glancing down at a lady of noble birth that is kneeling upon a cushion right before him, conversing at a low volume; a lord in his mid-forties sitting in another chair, with two adepts of the Valerian canon tending to him with wine and conversation; and Séverine, the Second of Red Roses, just emerging from the corridor at the back of the salon. She wears a flowing gown of dark red silk, fabric caressing a slender frame of slightly frail looks, from the pallor of skin and the faint spray of freckles on her neck, her bare arms and the back that is on display through the low dip of her dress. Inked upon her skin there, the full marque of the salon in the Red Rose variant.

The Ducal Heir Timothée Rafael de Somerville brushes a lock of his dark hair aside from a mildly frowned forehead. He firmly stands on the doorstep of the La Rose Sauvage and observes the current clientele. One of his arms is simply resting at his side while the other hand is clenching a golden lapel of his black jacket in quite an authoritative manner. The young man waves off anybody who tries to approach him with an offer of some refreshments as he does not have an intention to stay. Timothée is already turning around to leave when the corner of his eye catches the sight of a new delicate figure.

That draws his steps to a different direction. The nobleman chooses to occupy a lonely couch. When he settles down, Timothée lays one leg over the other and brings his arms to rest on the back of a seating. He does rise a few fingers up as a gesture for one of the younger adepts to bring him some refreshments now.

Timothée's obsidian thoughtful gaze lands on Séverine, the Second of Red Roses.

Such a thoughtful gaze is hard to ignore, and perhaps Timothée's hesitation and intention to leave had been noticed by Séverine. And the fact that he obviously now has changed his mind. Waving another Red Rose adept off, who had just been about to follow the summoning gesture of the young lord, it will be the Second who approaches him instead.

"My lord, do you wish for any wine or entertainment?", is the soft spoken inquiry, offered with slightly lowered lashes. Séverine regards Timothée with a hint of curiosity in her expression. It may after all be not that often that patrons so young in age and with such a presence as that of this noble enter the salon.

The young lord keeps his attention on the eyes of the Second for a few long moments. Then his gaze jumps up only to slide down across her long curls and observe her forms. A wry smile curls the corner of his lips up. "Both." He answers and an amusement twinkles in his features. "Any suggestions?"

He seems to leave initiative to her, and so she considers her reply for a moment before she gives it. "In the case of wine, I would suggest a Kusheline Red of the Maignard Comté. It is strong, with only a hint of sweetness." Her hand comes up as she gestures for a novice to fetch the wine. "As for you entertainment, I would need to know your preferences and your name, my lord. You are lucky. I am Séverine nó Rose Sauvage, the Second in charge of Red Roses. So if you feel an inclination towards Valerian ways, I am certain we can find someone adequate for your entertainment."

Waiting for his reply, the Red Rose remains standing, enduring his assessing gaze with a fine smile.

"Lord Timothée Rafael de Somerville." The young man introduces himself with a casual wave of his hand as he declines the offer of wine. "I would prefer something stronger. Do you have any type of brandy?" He leans his head to the side considering other possibilities. The young man bites the bottom lip and grins. "I do enjoy Valerians. Of course, I have some special requests when it comes to this type of entertainment. But before I list them out, would you mind to make an introduction to me? I mean, what is on the table?"

<FS3> Severine rolls Politics: Good Success. (8 5 6 2 1 5 1 8 8)

Upon hearing his name, the Second lowers herself into a curtsey, a flowing motion that seamlessly continues as she sinks into a kneeling position. "My lord of Somerville.", Séverine intones, with her gaze lowered for a moment. "You honor our salon with our visit. If it is the Valerian flavor you enjoy, mayhaps we can gauge your preference, in the choice of an adept or fully marqued courtesan." Lifting her grey eyes to meet his, she kneels there, abeyante, chin lifted slightly due to his elevated position. "Do you prefer an adept who may lack experience and yet has to work on completing their marque? Female? Or male?", the Red Rose continues, tilting her head a little, which causes her blonde-reddish hair to shift onto her shoulder. "We have an upcoming debut, of our novice Bijoux, but it will not happen till in a few days. If you prefer fully marqued courtesans, And you find me to be to your taste, I could be available."

There is a pause, a breath drawn through her nose, before Séverine adds, "Your requests would have to be limited, as you are new to this salon. The use of flêchettes in particular requires a demonstration of skill before our Dowayne, Jacques Verreuil nó Rose Sauvage, before you may be allowed to use them on a Red Rose."

The Lord of Somerville takes a moment to consider. His gaze leaves a beautiful sight of a fully marked courtesan and stares into the nothingness of the wall. Still keeping his gaze on the spot there, he speaks in a very low whisper. "You shall not worry about me using any of flêchettes on a Red Rose. What if I desire a contract with a Red Rose and a White Rose at the same time?" He makes a mildly prolonged pause in order to find eyes of Severine. Then he adds a small explanation. "You see, I enjoy watching much more than indulging myself. Would that be acceptable?"

Séverine considers this, and a faint smile curves her lips as she waits for that whispered suggestion to find a pause where an answer would be expected. "Such could easily be arranged, my lord. Even if it would be more costly. Are you certain that you wish a Red and White Rose as a pairing? Wouldn't it be a more… thought-provoking match, if you chose a Thorn to pair with the Red Rose?" Leaning a bit forward, she brings her lips closer to his ear, even lifting a little from her abeyante kneel. "Perhaps it would delight you to watch a sound whipping, executed by a skilled hand…?" Her suggestion is uttered at a similarly low volume, and with a slight twinkle in her grey eyes.

His head turns when a young woman whispers into his ear. The ducal heir chuckles while his eyes count down her freckles. "Good, I was merely checking if you are actually here to help and find the best solutions for potential patrons or you just go with whatever they want…" He nods and then looks around the room. "Do you have any preferences in Mandrakes? I want you and someone else… Preferably, a man." He explains. "I care little about the cost as long as the performance will be worthy of it. And you," he looks at Severine again. "You look like very well trained."

Her grey eyes widen a little when Séverine hears his request. And she leans away, lowering herself once again into a kneel, her chin lifted in confidence, but her slightly veiled gaze revealing that she is intrigued with his request. "I think I shall check on who is available," the Red Rose responds. "But we should be clear on how far you would wish us to go, as it would perhaps affect my…" Her smile deepens, "availability in the salon in the next few days." She straightens, eyelids fluttering as she counters, not without a certain pride in her tone, "I am a Second, my lord. I wouldn't have gotten this far, had I been poorly trained."

"I know. That is why I require the best bre… the best!" Timothée offers a small grin to Severine. "I would like that you both, your partner and you, would go as far as you desire. I will need you to perform as if I am not even around. Is that possible?"

"That will be up to you, my lord," Séverine responds smoothly. "You may watch and relish in the role of observer — or join in at any point, for as long as you respect the limitations, I mentioned…" Her hand lifts as she gestures for an adept of Red Rose canon to approach, to whom she whispers a few words, sending her off to check on something perhaps. "I have someone in mind, I only need to make sure he is available," she explains towards the young Somerville heir. "As for the paperwork… As soon as I have verified his availability, we will set up a contract, my lord."

"Very well," Timothée simply replies and turns his gaze away. His fingers slowly dance on the edges of the back of a seat since he still keeps his arms to rest there. This time the young man has a blank expression in his features. After a small amount of time of silence, he speaks up again. "What has been the worst experience which you had to go through in your life?" He slowly turns to face Severine again.

<FS3> Severine rolls Composure: Good Success. (7 1 4 8 3 1 4 2 7)
<FS3> Severine rolls Subterfuge: Success. (8 5 1)

The hands in Séverine's lap shift slightly, until they rest with their palms upon the dark red silk that acts as a thin barrier between them and her thighs. Her head, lowered in an attitude of respect and subservience, tilts a little to the side, the gaze of her grey eyes lifting. "I have been blessed, my lord, that I don't recall any bad experience," the Red Rose tells him softly. "I was born on Mont Nuit in Elua. Born into service to Naamah. In that, I have been privileged from the beginning. I have been nurtured, so that I could grow into the Red Rose I am today." It may not be the reply Timothée has been hoping for. Nonetheless, Séverine regards him with new curiosity flashing in her eyes. "Why do you ask?"

Timothée leans his head to the side listening for the young courtesan's answer. There is a mild roll of his eyes when the answer is not that pleasing. However, he does not object or demand for more. Instead, he turns his attention back on the blank spot on the wall. "Have you ever been on a hunt?" He asks quietly. "You are hunted every day by some predators, but have you ever hunted yourself?"

This quiet question causes a subtle reaction in the Red Rose, a faint shudder as if prompted by a thought or even a memory. "I have," Séverine admits, lowering her gaze. "But never as someone who hunts." A hint of rosiness touches her cheeks, and her eyelashes move in a slow blink. It is a fleeting impression, before she lifts her gaze again, with the smile back in place, more pronounced. "I assume you enjoy hunting, my lord?"

"I do." Timothée admits. "You know what, I changed my mind." The young man pushes himself up. "I want a contract with you but we both shall go for a hunt. Tomorrow. Very early in the morning. I will teach you and I will show you how one can have a lot of fun. Lets just say… it's exciting to see a prey become a predator at least once." He looks down at Severine with an eyebrow raised in question.

The change of mind in the young lord is perceived with a bit of surprise. As Timothée moves to stand, so does Séverine, rising with that flowing grace that is the result of year long training on Mont Nuit, and her experience ever since she debuted there. "Certainly, if that is your wish," she tells him, her expression a bit thoughtful. "But please… allow me to include the usual passages into the contract, my lord, which would allow you to stay flexible." The corners of her mouth lift in a smile. "Just in case, you should decide to change your mind again…"

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