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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Oct 11, 2008 0:16:25 GMT -5
Maleo turned his head a little, following where he had last scented out the warm brandy, and smirked.
"He was a beautiful corpse, Maestro. Finding that man - whoever he was - laid out and... perhaps weeks into decay... I was little, but I remember every detail. I could go on about it, but I've already said - it was amazing." He had that passionate air about him again, like when he had spoken about his own future in the opera - but there was a dreamy quality to the tone; he was reminiscing over the memory now.
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Post by Erik Destler on Oct 11, 2008 0:22:09 GMT -5
"You are perhaps interested in medicine."
That would certainly explain the fascination. His voice was still slow and he'd dropped himself into one place in the shadows again, his voice coming from him instead of the empty air.
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Oct 11, 2008 0:29:29 GMT -5
"No, no, it was not that... I've never had the interest to put people back together, and the morgue ended my apprenticeship before I could even handle preservation on my own..." he trailed, sighing at the end. He finally took a seat, looking a bit weighted with disappointment.
"I was only afraid to touch the body then because I did not want to disturb the beauty with my grubby, insignificant hands. It would be like..." Maleo paused, trying to think of an appropriate simile.
"Well, it would have been a sin even I could not have lived with."
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Post by Erik Destler on Oct 11, 2008 0:38:43 GMT -5
"You seem quite taken with death, boy. But I am not dead. Would that serenity of a waxen and motionless corpse seem quite so beautiful animated, with murder behind its eyes?"
Erik stepped from the shadows into the dim light of Maleo's room, revealing his lean coated shape, the scarf draped loosely around his neck and the hat tilted over the black matte of the mask.
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Oct 11, 2008 0:55:07 GMT -5
Looking up, Maleo pondered the question, then he smiled again. "Yes, even if the murderous intent was directed toward myself. Even if you were the one intending."
Maleo raised his eyes to examine the mask again, wanting to just reach up and rip it off; his pulse had picked up, as had his breathing. The Maestro's line of questioning was a tease to the masochistic sopranist - and not letting him see beneath that mask or touch the alleged face of the dead was only making his desire stronger.
"Do you have intent, Maestro?" he asked, purposely letting the question hang for interpretation.
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Post by Erik Destler on Oct 11, 2008 1:02:35 GMT -5
"I have many plans and intentions, young Addams."
He took a step forward, no hint of hesitation in his stance, and raised one hand with palm up toward the young singer, the bones and muscles visible under the cloudy gel of the glove.
"And many frustrations."
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Oct 11, 2008 1:08:06 GMT -5
"If I can help relieve your frustrations, Maestro, please, allow me to do so. Consider it my devotion to the arts," said Maleo, reaching to ghost his fingers over the gel glove. He would not rake his nails over something that looked so delicate and possibly irreparable.
"...as I have promised, I have the fortitude to stand up to many things, including one's frustrations."
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Post by Erik Destler on Oct 11, 2008 1:11:51 GMT -5
He could feel the slight pressure on his palm (his fingers were still dead) just that bare, gentle caress caused him to shift slightly and push his hand further out toward the boy.
"Understand that even if you scream and fight at the sight of my face, I will still have my way with you."
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Oct 11, 2008 1:13:37 GMT -5
Maleo smirked up at the man, as he was still seated.
"Maestro... I look forward to screaming for you."
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Post by Erik Destler on Oct 11, 2008 1:17:39 GMT -5
"I would rather you not."
He took his hand back and reached up to remove the hat, leaving his wig neatly in place, and set it down on the worn desk near him, atop a stack of scribbled-upon manuscript paper which he presumed was the unfinished opera.
The top buttons of his coat were undone and his numb fingers moved gracefully up to mask to pull it away.
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Oct 11, 2008 1:24:19 GMT -5
Upon seeing the animated, dead face as he was promised, Maleo stood up respectfully, studying every vein and line carefully. The look on his face was one of elated awe; Maleo was doing his best to keep from touching the man's face (well, the lack of a face), though his hands were raised to do so.
A few words in breathy Spanish rolled out of his mouth, as he kept his fingers just away from the musician's skin - to be fair, he had not been given permission to touch, and had remembered his earlier warning. But among the words mumbled were "cadáver exquisito," to which it was fairly obvious what the singer meant.
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Post by Erik Destler on Oct 11, 2008 1:29:19 GMT -5
The composer tilted his head a bit and knitted his hairless (and skinless) brows together.
"You truly are not repulsed?"
The voice was less menacing now and more directly placed, human.
"It will not hurt me if you touch...I have another friend who does not find my looks offensive, but I do not see him often."
And of late, Julian's hands had been missed.
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Oct 11, 2008 1:40:03 GMT -5
Remembering his French, as well as his voice, Maleo nodded to the Maestro. "Why should I be?" he asked, gently brushing the tips of his fingers along the cords of muscle in Destler's cheek. His other hand followed on the other side, feeling the heat coming from the muscle tissue.
Maleo shivered again, straining to keep his composure. He certainly felt boyish glee and adult desire churning up in him, and he tilted his head toward the other man's, barely able to contain himself now, though he stopped just short of the lipless mouth, breathing against flesh.
"May I?"
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Post by Erik Destler on Oct 11, 2008 1:47:07 GMT -5
His feverish heat only increased a bit with the caresses and any thought of being faithful to his beloved were out the window after a moment of torn apprehension passed over his lack of features. He needed some relief, some affection and comfort and then he could concentrate on music with Carlos instead of the overpowering need to have him in any physical sense.
Destler wasn't exactly lipless, but what was there was drawn, hard and not very mobile, he could purse the muscles enough to cover his black teeth when needed, which he did now as he nodded his consent.
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Oct 11, 2008 2:03:53 GMT -5
Given permission, Maleo took his liberty by pressing his significantly cooler lips to the thin, dry ones, groaning quietly as he felt the difference. He kept his hands cupped around the feverishly warm face, caressing sharp cheekbones with his thumbs.
After the first kiss, Maleo pulled back a few centimeters and licked his lips, tickled by the warm sensation. Taking another good look at the Maestro's corpse-face, Maleo kissed him again, more firmly this time, wordlessly inviting the composer to join as he wished.
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