Salomé
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Posts: 101
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Post by Salomé on Dec 24, 2009 22:02:25 GMT -5
Salomé, clad in underwear and a long, sheer, feather-trimmed evening dress - and a light spray of a floral Oriental perfume, closer to her skin than any clothing - was reading a patently obscure and ancient text in a long-dead language as boredly as a woman of this generation might read a cheap fashion magazine. All sorts of random things - clothing, perfume bottles, riding crops, fruit baskets, veils, and books - were littered all over the room; it would have been clutter if the space had not been so large, for the entire top floor of this building was hers and had been for twenty years now. And downwind of her was her bed, trimmed in the same pale, pale golds as was the rest of the space, a large canopy that currently had a young man passed out on it, deprived of his shirt and with his hands and feet tied in complex Japanese knots to the headboard and footboard, respectively. This young man's name was irrelevant; whose wasn't? He went by "Babe", which was charming in an off way. He would come to shortly, and she was keenly fingering the string of pearls at her throat waiting for this to occur. He wouldn't be able to see her from where he was. She'd see him first.
After all, any predator would have preferred it that way.
((For the record, and I really don't actually know why, in my head Salomé is from the 1920s. Probably because I in large conceived of her after having seen Pandora's Box.))
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Nathan Leopold
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Posts: 106
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Post by Nathan Leopold on Dec 25, 2009 1:22:06 GMT -5
Nathan was swimming in a moonless sea of black. Night revolved around the open air. Lillies floated to the surface and drifted by through the sludge. He hardly noticed, just kept swimming until he felt his arm get tight and his legs stopped moving. He began to sink immediately in the sweet smelling brew and when he opened his mouth to breathe, a taste of sharp iron flooded it. He thrashed and turned and his head came up in the moon drenched air, the sweet sweet air. when Nathan moved his bound arms to no avail, but he was floating and then, on his back, he saw his legs. They were streaked in red, the tacky substance clinging to his calves like beads of glue.
He splashed and attempted to move in the liquid but he lost his breath, the breath that had been keeping him afloat and he began to sink again. Forcing his eyes open, the world was red and . . Something bumped him and he knew it was a dream, for he could see perfectly as if in clean air. He looked up. Floating on the surface was a . . God, no. No. He didn't need to look at that. Babe looked for some sort of relief from seeing the cresent moon attached to a rod that floated above him . .. But only saw what had bumped into him earlier. It was lunky, heavy, revealed from a pipe. No. No. No. No. Wake up, Nathan. Wake up, Nathan.
His eyes fluttered open, no longer in the realm of Phobetor and the Oneroi. Nathan was relieved for just short of three seconds before he felt the need to close his eyes again. They were burning, the sudden intake of reality making his head pound. He reopened his eyes when he felt a . .. Was that a chill?
Nathan opened his weary eyes and looked down. . . What had happened to his shirt? That wasn't the question he should've been asking but. . . Where was he?
His eyes opened as far as his head ache and bleary vision would allow. and looked around. No one was in the room with him. That that he could see anyway. Nathan attempted to move. . And failed. It was like he was in the dream all over again. The blood and the boy but no Dickie and. . . He was breathing deeply now, his head punding in tune with his heart and he tried to move again to no avail.
He needed to say something. Something other than 'Oh God,' for God was dead. Something other than a shout or a cry. So, with little other choice, he moaned. Both in pain from the ever-growing head ache and from the complete and utter lack of knowledge of where he was. He couldn't even remember anything past leaving the apartment Dick and him shared. . . .
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Salomé
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Posts: 101
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Post by Salomé on Dec 25, 2009 15:09:31 GMT -5
Salomé was completely silent and her face almost entirely blank and masklike as she approached the bed, head tilting in some semblance of interest as she looked down at him. Not a word? How incredibly dull. If he started pleading or asked how he'd come to be here... she was not certain what she'd do.
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Nathan Leopold
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Posts: 106
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Post by Nathan Leopold on Dec 25, 2009 15:54:09 GMT -5
Think. Trying to think, trying to think. He had left the apartment after a riff with Richard about how 'suffocating' Nathan was. Suffocating. If Dick could call it that, then Babe could call him a damn liar. He had walked, just for a while. . And then it went blank until. . . A touch. Following. A female.
And now he was bound to something. Damn it, everything was blurry. He took another deep breath. . . The dancer. His eyes opened entirely as he slowly realized he might have had sex with that woman.
And the world opened. He was in a room. A . . . An odd room. Gold and . . . He could see clearly enough now to see that he was attached to the bed. No, he never would've allowed this. Someone had mugged him on his way home, that was it. He hadn't had any sort of sex with a girl that could warrant Richard to leave him. No. He had been mugged. . Some French thug who thought he could get a ransom for a young American. Ha. As if Richard would pay anything for him.
But he had something to bargain with. They hadn't taken his pants off. Probably hadn't found the 200 Euro in his pants pockets. He still had that. It was a good three hundred, more or less, in dollars. No one would turn that down. If they did, he would pay for his own ransom, beg Richard to send him a part of the monthly allowance both got from their parents. It would be more than enough, both boys got what most would call riches. He could pay. He just needed to talk to someone.
Babe's eyes narrowed once more. Too much. Heavy breathing slowed. Didn't see anyone in the room, so he yelled out something, a plea, in French. Maybe someone was staying just outside the door, listening and waiting to come in and negotiate the terms.
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Salomé
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Posts: 101
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Post by Salomé on Dec 25, 2009 20:17:44 GMT -5
Salomé fought rolling her eyes. Under other circumstances, that sort of disappointment might have given him a good twenty minutes to stew a bit longer, but then he might actually continue calling. And that would be dull.
She tapped him with one dark, cool fingernail on the shoulder, other hand stroking her own cheek as she gave a little, sleepy sigh, looking very petite and unassuming, as though she were a maid there to attend to him - the mistress, perhaps, of the madman that had tied him down, rather than the person who'd done it herself - and he had woken her up by shouting.
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Nathan Leopold
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Posts: 106
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Post by Nathan Leopold on Dec 25, 2009 20:41:52 GMT -5
Nathan twisted his head sharply towards his shoulder, beginning to feel like a caged animal. There. . The face. The dancer who had shown him that liquor could have color. There she was . . And she had touched him again. She was .. a part of some sort of mob. Yes. She must've had someone take him to a backroom of the club and . . .
His head hurt too much to think more on that. Stay in the moment. Stop trying to think. It wouldn't help now. Instead, he stared at her, confused and looking somewhat pathetic. It wasn't fair. This wasn't fair! No. Calm down. Calm down. Say something to her. . . Did he even know her name?
"answer a couple of harmless questions"
. . . They had talked. He knew her name. Knew it somewhere in his mind. He could remember if he wished to report her to the police. Yes. They had talked to each other about. . . Things. Her name. Her name. Alom. No, that wasn't it. He should say something. Say something.
"Hello," he said for lack of anything else. His voice was saturated in worry and distress, confusion lacing through each like shoe strings.
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Salomé
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Posts: 101
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Post by Salomé on Dec 25, 2009 21:07:36 GMT -5
"Hello, Babe," said Salomé caressingly, as though about to offer a prisoner she was sweet on - some jailed boy she thought was innocent in spite of all charges and was trying to persuade prison guards to go easy on - cool, sweet water. She gently sat on the bed, her hip brushing his bare stomach as she did, for he was that close to the edge, arms folded.
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Nathan Leopold
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Posts: 106
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Post by Nathan Leopold on Dec 25, 2009 21:19:30 GMT -5
Salomé, the woman from the celestial planes. He remembered. Yes. . Something told him that she knew. What did she know? What could she know? He hadn't told her about the kid. He hadn't been that bad off. No. Drunk. Yes. He had been drunk. That was all. "Salomé," he said, feeling a shiver as something- her -touched his side. The paralyzing feeling from the dream had worn off and out of worry, he began to move the tiniest of bits. Just to see what was possible. Slower breaths.
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Salomé
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Posts: 101
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Post by Salomé on Dec 25, 2009 21:27:37 GMT -5
"You been out a long time," said Salomé in English. She was very good at switching from Parisian to Chicago, though there was the faintest hint of an accent, like chill clinging to skin after one steps in from the cold. It was old and spicy and very difficult to place. Her eyes had widened, eyebrows lifting, as she said this, as though it had nothing to do with her. She might have been saying this under less dubious circumstances, and made no mention of his being tied down. "You want something? Not wine, I'mma guess."
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Nathan Leopold
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Posts: 106
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Post by Nathan Leopold on Dec 25, 2009 21:33:49 GMT -5
Nathan looked at her, trying to find some sort of answer to the questions rolling through his pounding head like boulders. "How long?" he asked, suddenly worried for another reason: what if he didn't get home by morning? Richard would be questioning. He would be even more so when Nathan did come home. If he came home.
"I would like. . " He stopped a moment, hopefully to banish the devils left by the night's revelries. "I would like to be untied, please," he said, adding the please so softly it was almost a whisper.
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Salomé
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Posts: 101
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Post by Salomé on Dec 25, 2009 21:37:21 GMT -5
Salomé twisted her fingers in her hair helplessly, fiddling, biting her lip with a bright, "Mmm-hm!". After a moment of this, however, she said, almost hesitantly, "Oh, I can't do that, Babe. It's wine or water or nothin' from me." Unless you are a good boy, or a particularly bad one. "Well, you wouldn't mind if I had some wine, would you?"
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Nathan Leopold
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Posts: 106
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Post by Nathan Leopold on Dec 25, 2009 21:47:59 GMT -5
A phantom taste of iron, a vague hint of the earlier nightmare came to him at the mere thought of water and he shook his head quickly. "No, no thank you," he said, fearful for a moment just from the memory of the dream. But soon, it was . . . Was she honestly considering drinking? He didn't need that. No. He didn't deserve this. No. She should just let him go. That would be nice and splendid and he cou. No. Quiet. Hush, Babe. Hush. "No. Don't."
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Salomé
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Posts: 101
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Post by Salomé on Dec 25, 2009 21:55:05 GMT -5
She raised her eyebrow, wanting to tell him that water would dilute the hangover he would undoubtedly have in the morning, but she kept her tongue, and then used it to giggle when he told her no in the sort of voice he might have shushed a younger cousin with had she been trying to be more adult than she should. "Oh, Babe, Babe," she said, and honestly it sounded a bit more like a coy endearment than a name. "Honest."
Disobeying his wishes, although in such a way that it would still not be apparent that his wishes did not remotely matter, she swiped a bottle from a nearby table. There was always wine at Salomé's. She did not, however, have a cup to match. This was because when she uncorked the bottle, she poured it - however little of it - onto Nathan's stomach and bent her head to lap it up with a smile. Somewhere along the line, she had taken the stereotypical rules about odalisques - dressing risquély, pouring wine, and doing coy and servile things with their tongues - and apparently gotten them twisted.
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Nathan Leopold
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Posts: 106
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Post by Nathan Leopold on Dec 25, 2009 22:14:08 GMT -5
Salomé frightened him. She was the bright moon that had shown overhead while he drown. When she spoke, he felt the need to shiver on impulse. He most probably did, though he did not feel it. She called him Babe. He hadn't noticed until just now but she called him Babe. And why had she said honest?
He stared at her as she grabbed the bottle. She was still going to drink. From the bottle. A thought flew in the back of his mind about how that was hardly classy. Then again, he hadn't ever gotten the chance to really see classy drinking, really. Though he figured it came in a glass. . . . What was she doing?
Nathan did not really understand until he felt the lukewarm feeling of the liquid hitting him, red like the droplets of blood in the sea of lilies. He looked at it, just it, not noticing her until she was just onto him. The tickle and extreme discomfort didn't strike him quite as suddenly as the curiosity as to why she was doing it.
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Salomé
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Posts: 101
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Post by Salomé on Dec 25, 2009 22:16:07 GMT -5
Salomé licked up the wine like a cat, her hair uncoiling slightly from her beaded headband and falling onto his skin.
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