(1311-11-17) Unruliness
Summary: Raphael contrasts an unruly boy patron, with the most decorous of Red Roses. (Warning: Mature, Rose Sauvage-type content.)
RL Date: Sun Nov 17, 1311
Related: Other scenes with these characters.
marco raphael severine 

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 mid-afternoon at the salon, and while it is not yet peak hours, there are a few patrons and a few adepts and courtesans present in the parlor, in several clumps. Currently sharing a moment in what passes at the Rose Sauvage for polite conversation are Raphael and Marco. Raphael is seated in one of the leather armchairs while Marco kneels at his seat. A black rope tied in a slipknot passes around Marco's neck, snug but not tight, leaving Marco breathing freely. The slack is turned round Raphael's right hand. With his left he beckons a novice. "Will you have something to drink?" he asks Marco, as though he were a perfectly polite host and there were no rope between them. "Yes, my chambers are full of fond memories, are they not."

Marco shivers on his knees before Raphael as the rope is teased around Raphael's hand. He bites his lip again shivering, "Very….very fond memories." HE admits agreeably and then he smiles, "I… if you will have some. I would not mind some wine." He admits licking his lips wetting them as he remains staring up at Raphael in delight.

The soft whisper of soft silk upon delicate skin announces the arrival of the Red Rose Second. Séverine is clad in her preferred darker shade of green, and her red-blonde hair is gathered in a knot at the nape of her neck. She passes by the pair of Marco and the Thorn Second, pausing to admire the display of the vicomte kneeling before the seasoned courtesan of Mandrake canon. "I could bring you some wine, my lord," she offers, with a quick glance towards the novice. Her voice, while not without a certain confidence, is soft and gentle. Her grey eyes sweep towards Raphael as if begging forgiveness for intruding on their exchange — or point him to her intrusion.

"How much better that would be," Raphael comments, looking up to take in the figure cut by the second of Red Roses. "We shall make a model of you," he decides, and looks down upon Marco. "You," he says, "Will commit to memory her gestures and manners in serving. And when next I see you I shall give you a test in reproducing it. And we shall determine consequences for lapses and omissions from there."

Marco glances up in surprise at the voice and his eyes turn to her. He studies the arriving woman and he murmurs with warmth, "Severine." He says her name like a caress studying her watching her considering her. He then looks to Raphael and he nods his slowly, "I will commit her every movement to memory… though I have no hope to reproduce such delight." He murmurs softly shivering though letting his eyes linger and remain on Severine his cheeks faintly flushed at her catching him in the position.

"Make a model of me?", Séverine echoes softly, tilting her head a little to the side. For a brief moment, she lifts her gaze up towards the balustrade of the gallery, her eyes narrowing just so, before they find Raphael and Marco again. She has come to some sort of decision, and it shows in the shift in her bearing. Sinking to her knees before the chair where Raphael is seated, on the bare floor, with no kneeling cushion softening the contact of her knees to the cold stone tiles, her gaze lowered as she awaits the Thorn's command. "Like this, Monsieur Raphael?" There is a subtle tremble to her tone, and there is something about the way she avoids looking at Marco, who kneels not too far away from her. "What will you have me do?"

Raphael watches this deceptively simple movement executed with such smooth grace that few without intensive training could imitate. "Yes," he says firmly. "First, you must serve us. Wine for Lord Mereliot, and a tisane for me. Mark her well," he instructs Marco.

Marco breathes in sharply looking to Severine watching her sink down. His eyes rapt upon her watching each movement and watching her tremble. HE breathes in and it's so very clear that the obedient way she moves has a thrill upon MArco. He studies her and he shivers, "It's been….long far too long since I've kneeled beside you Severine." He murmurs gently licking his lips and watching her.

She shifts backwards, knees sliding over the floor before Séverine rises again. "Wine for Lord Marco," she echoes, with that maddening tinge of obedience to her tone. There is a flagon on a nearby table from which she pours wine into a goblet. Placing that goblet on the floor before the Mereliot lord, without resuming her kneel right away, she then moves to get the tisane. Again, she meets the Thorn's gaze only briefly, the ghost of a wry smile playing about her lips, before she offers the beverage to him kneeling, shoulders slightly slumped forward, her long slender arms raised to lift the goblet in reverent offering to the Second of Thorns. "Here, Monsieur Raphael," she intones in a low voice, as if not wishing to anger him with her bold address.

Raphael accepts the cup from the Red Rose Second. "How finely served," he replies. He makes a little slack in the rope so that Marco can drink without choking himself. "Lord Marco, what do you observe to be the greatest of Séverine's qualities?"

Marco watches Severine his gaze never wavering taking her in, "Her grace… subservient, and polite and yet… there's so much to her confident in her service." He murmurs softly staring at her as he reaches to take up the wine and hesitates holding it up to his lips not yet daring to sip though clearly tempted to.

"Too much confidence, perhaps?", Séverine wonders lightly, in response to Marco's observation. Her eyes glitter faintly as they lift to regard Raphael, with that intriguing paradox of submissive eagerness coupled with subtle challenge. True to the fact that the Thorn uses her as an example in this particular context, she does not spare Marco a single glance. Her hands come to rest in her lap, once Raphael has accepted the cup from her, and she remains as she is, kneeling before Raphael in his chair.

Raphael looks amused at the conundrum this proposes. "What do you say, Marco?" he asks, deliberately putting the lord in a difficult position. "Is Séverine's confidence too great? Does she want for the respect and fear she should show a Thorn of my standing?"

Marco considers that and muses, "Too much confidence?" He asks curiusly and he shivers, "She's perfect." He says gently and then he says simply, "But she wants… you can see she wants but perhaps there is not… fear there is something else."

There may be just a touch of gratification in the brightening of Séverine’s eyes, as she, for once, looks from Raphael to Marco. But otherwise, she stays in her obedient kneel, head slightly lowered to signal respect, but her fingers twitching just slightly in her lap.

"In fact I agree with you," Raphael replies, looking down on them both. "So much so that I will not play the easy game of putting to her the question of her own perfection," he continues. "But this I will ask: Séverine, what is that thing which for you takes the place of fear, which Lord Marco here struggles to name?"

Marco shivers and looks relieved as Raphael accepts his answer. When Severine looks to him he smile warmly at her eyes lingering with hunger in his eyes and he shivers softly as he waits listening for SEverine's next answer.

"Need," Séverine responds, lowering her gaze after holding that of Raphael for a moment. "Seeking dominance, through challenge." It is an admission that is uttered softly. "It is one possible color of a Red Rose. Some patrons crave it, to bring out their sharper side." There is a faint twitch at the corner of her mouth, "Thorns usually don't need any encouragement of that kind."

"You share that with Marco, here, as you may know," Raphael replies to Séverine. "I told him earlier that he is an unruly boy. And it is true, is it not, Marco?" He hefts the end of the rope. "As you see, though, he can be temporarily tamed. You, on the other hand, do not give the impression of unruliness, yet I suspect you would be difficult to truly tame all the same. I wonder, should we try someday?"

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