Jade Threats & Ivory Lies II (Mino)

[Fawn]

19th of Frost, 120xx

His hair was like silk between her fingers. His skin soft, unfamiliar under her own as she caressed the side of his head with a cupped hand. Her cheeks stilled glowed with the blush of her embarrassment as she clicked her tongue at him.

"A-aye.. I don't need my first time touchin' a man's downstairs to be a cats." She said, growing redder by the moment. The water splashed gently around him as she combed and lightly teased the conditioner from his hair. It wasn't long before he was completely clean, his hair at least. "And I'll have you ken the cabaret agreed to let me work as a singer, if I make enough coin for em' the may not even have me do the other stuff... though I should probably learn just incase.." The last bit barely a whisper. The steam from the bath had begun to coat her skin in a thin sheen of condensation and sweat. The window had fogged, as had the mirror, and with a shy expression she continued to run her fingers across his scalp.

It wasn't necessary anymore. He was clean, but her hands felt like home in his hair. Welcomed with the sound of his purr and the feel of his head pushing back against her touch. He truly was like an animal, she thought to herself, and perhaps this type of cat wasn't so bad. She gently began to scratch the back of his head once more. Her fingernails trailing over him gently, reaching the base of his neck and searching upwards and sideways as she explored his reactions. She raked them next from the front of his scalp to the back, stopping to rub at the crown of his head briefly and the continuing downwards. It was then she gently pushed him up out of the waters. It was no longer just her cheeks that were red, but now her face and chest with the glow of her newfound appreciation for his reactions, his body, his strange confidence. She felt warm, and as his compliment reached her ears her flush deepened but she let out a laugh. It echoed like songbirds throughout the small room, before she settled her voice once more and raised a brow.

It was a poor attempt at collecting herself, but at least she tried before slipping out stuttered, nervous words. "W-well, ye have a strange taste then if ye think a lass who boke'd up on yer entire body is bonny." She reached forward then, taking the soap from his hands as a forced distraction as she cleared her throat. "So, do ye like the scent? My mum made the soaps using goat milk and fresh lavender from a nearby meadow. It's great for yer skin, though I suppose you'd much prefer drinking the goats milk, bein' a cat and all, aye?" Her nails gently grazed across the skin on his back, the pads of her fingers feeling every inch of smooth skin as she slowly washed the places he could not reach. Her touch was just the same as it had been on his head, though now with her nerves suddenly at attention there was a minor tremble to her hand. Why? Why was this so different than any other time? He was the first adult she'd touched like this, sure, but could that really be it?

[Mino]

19 Frost 120

Magic. A good way, maybe not the right word, but one he would choose to use. That was how her fingers felt. They raked through his hair, over his scalp, over his skin; blunt nails sliding over flesh and cutting through the invisible layer of a stressful day. Comforting.

"It's a lot more exciting than the average man's. Your loss." Harmless flirting? Maybe so, but he was enjoying the way her face took color. A splash of red over her pale face that spread with each word. Dripped over her until he couldn't tell her face from her hair. His grin stretched out wider, dimples puckering into existence as he listened to her retorts. A blink of surprise, a short pause before he tipped his head back to look at her.

"'Learn the other things'?" Mino had merely been mentally speculating. You could do a lot without having to touch -- he'd seen enough of that; experienced it, too. But to never? That felt like a shame, in a way. A missed opportunity on the part of whoever might have approached her. "You find yourself a teacher?"

Probably too late, but he should spare her. Show a little mercy for her skillful fingers and -- oh. His widened slightly before they were sliding shut, back arching just a touch. His purring went up a notch, much louder than before. Then her fingers had moved on and while he was disappointed, at least she hadn't stopped touching him. That would have been the worst possible outcome. As for her opinion of herself - he shouldn't have much say. Couldn't. He was biased, after all, seeing as this was their second meeting and the purpose of his being here was entirely skewed against her. Right; his purpose. He didn't so much snap to attention as he did rouse himself from the daze of a good scratch. But he sank back into it without much delay.

"It smells heavenly." If it came out sounding like a moan, he would not be blamed. Her fingers, while still on him, trembled. He wondered why for a moment before his mind clouded over. "You are right, though. I should like a nice glass of goat milk over it being in soap."

But, again - trembling fingers. He reached back, wrapped his own fingers around hers. "You can stop if you're tired. I think I've been pampered enough. You ought to be careful with how much you spoil a cat; they'll keep coming back."

[Fawn]

19th of Frost, 120xx

His purrs were nearly as melodic as any musical score. The sound sending her mind into a calm, near hypnotic state as she closed her eyes and let herself explore with soap in hand. But the man had a definitive darkness to him. She couldn’t quite place what it was, or whether it was just the alcohol still coursing through her system and tainting her judgement. But either way, he embarrassed her, and that embarrassment spread lower, her body understanding more of his words than her mind did. She opened her eyes and wrinkled her nose in confusion.

“I don’t see how somethin’ like that could be exciting..” She glanced down at the area in question, but the soapy waters were slightly cloudy and in their motions concealed the prize below. She shrugged, and shook off as much of the flush as she was allowed.

“Aye, other things. You ken, the stuff that horses do in spring, during their mating season. They stick their pricks in a mare for a few moments then go on about their day. The cabaret wants me to do those things, but it seems that there's more to it for them. Some way to make it fancy, I think.” Fawn sighed, her fingers still carefully dedicated to his back as she began to rinse the soap from his body.

“I don’t ken why, but no. I haven’t.” She pursed her lips, brow suddenly furrowed as the flush returned to her cheeks. Stubborn things. Why now? She’d had no trouble speaking of it any other day, had even asked Rickter and Telion directly, and some strangers. She cleared her throat, attempting to push the shyness away. Gods, she hadn’t even felt like this around Marina. “Is it such a dangerous, scary act? So far most folks I’ve asked seemed horrified, like I’d kicked a pup.” She asked, reaching over him and placing the soap on the windowsill just above the tub. As she did her hair fell forward, tickling his back and neck as the moon glowed upon her face.

When she pulled back, she avoided his gaze. What was it about him? Perhaps it was just simply that as a cat, she now felt strange? No, that part was fine with her. Oddly enough. Then, was it that he was nude? The first man she’d touched like this?
As she pondered the reasoning behind her demure state, her hand had returned to his skin just as the base of his neck only to be caught by his own. It was then she looked at him, a shine to her skin from the misty room and a rosy hue that had taken over her cheeks and the tip of her nose.

For a moment she stayed silent while she pondered his statement. The sound of the water sloshing in the tub the only noise between them aside from the breath that hitched in her throat before she parted her lips.
“I.. wouldn’t mind if ye kept coming back. Yer not such a bad cat…” She said, a small, playfully shy smile to her face.
“But I’ll admit, I need a wash meself.” As she spoke she turned around and pulled a white towl from below the counter, her fingers running over it’s noticeably soft fibers. None so soft as Mino, though, which in some ways disappointed her.

“Here, ye should dry completely before ye go. Don’t need ye catchin the cold or bein’ a shiverin mess on yer way home.”

[Mino]

19 Frost 120

The laugh that left him was startled, at best. Horrified, at worst. Which, then, wouldn't really make the moment a laughing matter if he thought about it. It was like Berry asking why Lady Red asked for him. Like Admiral staring down the halls to where Lady Black floated by like a ghost. Funny in that in a way, it was horrific. And more like the act of explaining it for what it was mortifying to do so to someone as bright as Fawn. Like telling her would dim her in some way, or change that light. Though, he did wonder what sort of shade her flames would turn if he did.

"It could be just like horses in the spring. You'll get a prick stuck in you and you have to pretend to like it until they roll over and pass out because they're too drunk to do something else." Or she gets the kind of folk who take more pride in exerting every last drop of control they have on her. Make her feel like where she was would be all she was. His smile hurt. "It might just be...nervousness at taking your maidenhead, I think." He didn't like this topic of discussion anymore. His stomach churned and he hated it; wanted back in the warm water and sudsy back scratches. Keeping on the jovial charade was becoming harder the longer the topic stretched on, and he figured he could blame it solely on the season. The high peak of something he didn't want to think about. Not here, not when he had work to do, still.

"You shouldn't think so low of yourself." A late comment to her earlier statement, but he couldn't avoid it now. Not when she looked like that. Glossy and ripe. "You're quite pretty. Like a ruby. Inlaid on a silver chain and framed by other pretty red gems." His hands reached up to frame her face. Held warm cheeks between his fingers before he let go and pinched one.

All teeth was his grin. "You could just join me in here. I can make room for you." He patted the edge of the tub. "I promise I won't peek." Now how bad of a cat would she think he was?

[Fawn]

19th of Frost, 120xx

Fawn shrugged, pulling her copper tresses behind her with a practiced grace and then combing through a few strands. “Then I don’t see what the allure is. Seems to me like folk be makin’ a fuss about somethin’ that could be over in a few moments without so much as a lost star in the sky.” Though, she grew curious. Certainly, surely, that had to be something that drew people to it. Her home town had been rather quiet, parents hushed the word of sex around children but on her farm it simply came with the seasons. Literally. Either hushed or just a few seconds out of the day with animals, Fawn was left confused by the complexity.

“No matter.” She left the conversation behind with a huff, only to arch a brow at him in return for his compliment. “Yer mistaken. I don’t think lowly of myself. I just don’t think of myself in any particular way.” But he continued, and as he did her cheeks only flushed more like that of the dewy rubies he so described. His hands were warm, soft, leaving her to briefly lose herself in the simple pleasure of a touch so tender. Her eyes nearly closed, but the pinch pulled a high pitched squeak from her lips, and she quickly brought a hand up to rub the spot where his fingers had just played.

Join him? He perplexed her- one moment sitting with her atop a ledge and stargazing, the next hissing, and the next naked. His features, softly lit by the luminance of the night sky, were all that much more mysterious. Certain shadows hiding certain dimples, glimmers of water droplets drawing attention to sharp teeth and keen eyes.

She gulped down a brief moment's hesitation and placed the towel upon the counter of the sink. “Do ye think I care about bein bare?” Fawn chuckled, already beginning to disrobe herself of the dirtied clothes. “Peek all ye want, it’s just a body, but I’ll not join ye. That’s for lovers and children.” Well, at least she knew something. She’d asked Marina to join her once after a hot walk in the meadow nearly three years ago, but the woman denied. Said she wasn’t the passionate type, and it wasn’t proper unless they were lovers. But weren’t they? The idea had confused her. They loved each other, so were they not then lovers? A few hours of conversation later and Fawn finally understood what she had meant.

“So,” She started, fingers moving to her own dress. “Ye can either leave now or ye can get out and wait till yer dry. Though I suggest the ladder, it’s absolutely frigid out there tonight.”

Fawn began to pull at the laces to her dress. One by one each undone from the lace up front until it was loose enough to slip off her shoulders and expose her bare skin. But nervousness trembled throughout her fingers. She should keep it together. She’d never had any mind to fret about nudity before, so why now? As if convincing herself that what she was feeling was not even there, she let the blue linen dress fall to the floor. Not that any amount of her attempts to convince anyone but herself would work. The girl was blooming red, glowing, glistening, and speckled with a constellation of freckles over her entire body from pert breasts to toes. The pale, moonlit contours of her body, toned from years of horse riding and farming, would only serve to better the idea that cream would indeed be a delicious drink for the feline in front of her.

“Och, I’m mighty sloshed!” She exclaimed, kicking the dress to the side and nearly falling over, but catching herself quick on the counter. Her head had spun when she stood, confirming her suspicions that clearly it wasn’t her emotions going haywire, but simply the alcohol catching up with her.

It had to be.

She leaned back up from the counter and motioned with her thumb. “Alright, ya wee kitt- come on out. It’s my turn.”

Right?

[Mino]

19 Frost 120

“You should be thinking of yourself in a way. A very particular way. A pretty way.” Mino wouldn’t say he was much of a motivational speaker, but if the girl didn’t show some sort of confidence in her looks, how would she make it in the cabaret? Not everyone liked the pretty wallflowers that denied all compliments, and some tired of them yet. Tired of them going through their song and dance until the inevitable happened. His brows rose as her hands went to disrobing herself. He propped himself up on the lip of the tub, chin in his palms.

She had made it clear she didn’t care if he looked, and what was the harm if it was consensual? His gaze trailed down her frame, watched her move in the faint light of the moon. No, he wasn’t much of a romantic and he didn’t feel that stir in his heart that Lady Red seemed to find often when she read her romance novels aloud. But there was something. Not nameless, not new; not welcomed.

“Wee?” He pulled the towel from its spot, swinging it around his hips. Part of him felt that at least one of them ought to have some concern for nudity or this would head in directions that would be...interesting — at the very least. At his full height, he pressed a hand to the top of his head as he stood before her. Dripped water onto the floor, onto her skin as he leaned in. When he moved his hand, it barely skimmed the crown of her head and he grinned. “The only wee one here is you.”

Mino could be polite. Mino could be a gentleman. Sort of. But, if ever he’d learned a lesson, he’d learned it served him best to keep his eyes on a lady’s face. At least while he stood before her. He ran a hand through his hair, pushed strands from his face in the process so that he might see her better. As if he would need to see her better. The drag of his tongue over his lips might have been longer than necessary. The short flash of teeth — decidedly unneeded.

“If I leave now, who’s gonna warm you up after your bath?”

A short-lived thought: the coil of his limbs around her, soaking in the warmth he could radiating from her now. It was cold outside, cold everywhere. He could ask any of the girls in Blue, but they would want him as a cat. Which, he normally had no problem with. But the ache in his bones, the one he ignored, was an ache for warmth in a different form and gods knew that would only spell trouble for him.

But maybe not with Fawn.

He leaned in further, closed his eyes. “I should really think to thank your mother.” He inhaled, deep. “No wonder you smell so good.”

[Fawn]

19th of Frost, 120xx

Fawn could feel the warmth blooming through her cheeks. Bloom.. that was the right word. She was blooming before him like a moonflower. And much like a moonflower her gentle grace was only highlighted more by the haze of the atmosphere around them. Her skin, like the freshest cream nearly reflecting the light back towards Mino.

But Mino was just staring, his eyes piercing her like daggers, like lightening. She raised her brow as the heat spread down through her body, lower, lower.. And then he moved. She was already leaning against the counter but still took a brief step back unknown to even herself. Some deep part of her knew what he was, what he wanted, and why, but that truth never reached her waking mind. The water that dripped on her own body raised goosebumps from her flesh as it trickled down her chest, her hips, to her feet, one of which had curled behind her as if searching for more flooring but found only a wall. Her heart raced with is hand over her head like a curtain, and she realized then that no words would come from her mouth. No witty quip, no defense against her embarrassment. No, simply a short hiccup that broke the quiet between them and pulled a shocked expression from her eyes and a hand to her lips as she stifled the next that threatened to echo in the small room.

But his question, phrased between sharp teeth, drew the silence closed as she chuffed and looked at him with confusion. Her hair followed, contrasted in copper against her alabaster skin. "Keep me warm? I got blanket ye know, and the cot won't hold two people no matter how close ye cuddle." She said it as it had been obvious, like explaining how a window worked. As if he should just know. Another hiccup- high pitched, sudden, creating a small jump in her moon-like skin, and she smacked her hand down on the counter with frustration. "Aye- these damn hiccups!" Fawn exclaimed, turning to move to the tub only to find Mino's body blocking her path. She hadn't looked in his eyes since the hiccups started, but now, with him so close, she let her eyes trail up his torso, trace his collarbones, lips, and finally landing on his eyes.

"..I.. smell good?" She asked, quickly bending her neck to sniff as close to herself as she could. Puzzled, she scrunched her pinkened nose. "I think yer nose is broken."

[Mino]

19 Frost 120

She fell into silence like he tumbled into recklessness. The descent was a hard one; her words were replaced by the squeak of hiccups. They pulled the edges of his smile further up his face, flashing teeth too sharp to be human. But fit so well they seemed to belong. The same teeth his tongue curled over as he slid it along them, like a feline anticipating a mousy meal. If he were better at displaying self-control, at keeping some impulses at bay, he might have taken a step back then.

He’d always found limit-testing fun, but this wasn’t a simple game. Not anymore. Not when she blossomed like this. Curiosity killed the cat, sure, but satisfaction surely brought it back. And he wasn’t satisfied yet. She backed away, further caging herself between him and the wall. Reminiscent of their earlier antics, but she might have wanted out where he had wanted in. And maybe he still wanted in, but to something different. His gaze over her wasn’t predatory, but it wasn’t something gentle, either. Not critical; appreciative? His mind was clouding up and he wasn’t sure what words meant what outside of pretty and Fawn.

The silence was ruptured by her response. He blinked, partly startled by both her words and the hiccup before a laugh rumbled up from his throat. “I didn’t ask because I wanted to cuddle.” He’d not seen her cot and he wasn’t one to push if she wouldn’t have it. He sighed, content to nose into her hair. “But we can cuddle another time, if you would like.”

A hum spread through his chest, slid lazily up his throat as a purr as she sniffed her hair. But she couldn’t smell what he could. Beneath the layers of the day, hiding under the stench of her upturned stomach, were the same hints of lavender and goat’s milk she’d boasted about before. Another deep inhale, one that saw him rock forward slightly, chin bumping against her temple. His fingers ghosted the edge of her face, traced the line of her jaw as his cheek settled over her head. Conversation felt — almost like a hassle. Almost unnecessary. Baser instincts would rather he forego words entirely. “My nose is most definitely not broken. One of the best noses there will ever be.” Close, so close, and yet not close enough.

A startingly revelation that wasn’t enough to force him to draw back just yet.

He could bury himself in her scent. Calming, reassuring. Safe. Not the hard stench of metal and jewels and cleaners he didn’t know the names of. Not the stink of ink and papers. He shut his eyes, purred a moment longer. The rumble of it vibrated from him to her, an echo chamber that bounced the sound between them. But this wasn’t meant to last. Not now. Maybe another time.

It was with great reluctance that Mino opened his eyes, realized his fingers had tangled themselves in her hair. He stepped back. Above the layers of lavender and milk, but sinking past the city stench was his own scent. Maybe not enough; he felt the urge to close the gap once more and positively drench her in him, but that could always be saved for another time when she was more clear-thinking and he wasn’t trying to steal from her employer.

“If you don’t believe me, maybe it would be better that you take your bath.” He stepped further away, eyes bright. “It’s cold; wouldn’t want you to catch something.”

[Fawn]

19th of Frost, 120xx

The windows had fogged up completely, steam coating the inside of the glass and condensation dripping down in small beads that mirrored the droplets on the farmgirls hipbones. Her lips had parted to give way for heavier breaths and whispered words. "Well, not that I have the space fer it, but if ye don't want to cuddle I won't push ye." She said, her cheeks now matching the pink of her lips as a slight, coy smirk took them over. "Though, I'd have thought after seeing ye with Pumpkin that ye'd love a good cat nap." Her words were like spiced honey. Warm, teasing, gentle, promising. But they still carried a hint of her bashful nature within them as another hiccup jumped from her throat.

His presence was oddly comforting. She hadn't realized until then, but since Marina, since her departure over a year ago, she'd not felt the warmth of an embrace. Her life had been simple in her absence but farm life meant one was constantly working, moving, sweating and toiling over the lives of others and their own animals. Without one moment to rest and reflect on the missed affections, his hands that snaked into her hair and the sound of him pulling her scent into him made her feel as though she could melt. Or that she already was, with his hand grazing the soft skin of her freckled cheek and leaving behind a whisper of a whimper from her lips. One of her moonlit hands drifted upwards to trace the contours of his hipbones just as he pulled away.

Had she known better, maybe she wouldn't have stepped closer to him. Her feet followed his as if she were chasing him and she moved to keep the distance between them nonexistent. But his words startled her out of her haze. The room was still spinning slightly from the alcohol, and she could feel her body tiring faster now that his humming had nearly put her sleep in his grasp. Perhaps it was the fact that he'd pulled away that kept her from simply falling into it.

"Yer right." She said, sighing and blinking away the lazy from her eyes that had so grasped her. But letting him leave without one more touch was not something she had the power to do, nor did she want that power. She reached her hand up to his head without much more than a moment's hesitation and ran her fingers through the soft, quickly drying locks of dark hair that hid his brows like curtains. "Thanks, Mino." Her voice was brighter as she pulled away with a shy smile, and slipped into the waters. Her skin nearly disappeared beneath the surface of the water as she sunk into it's depths and hung her head off the edge of the tub. Fiery locks spilled over the lip of the tub, nearly reaching the floor.

"If ye need water or anything, please help yerself to it on yer way out." Fawn said, not yet ready to begin actually bathing herself as she lay in the warm lavender waters. Her eyes fluttered closed as she let out something between a sigh and moan of relaxation.

“Ah-” They opened once more, bright and perfectly contrasting her alabaster skin. “Where do ye live? Maybe I can come stop by sometime?”

[Mino]

19 Frost 120

If she continued as she did, he might find it harder to walk away. Skin flushed and breath heavy. Eyes glazed over. She looked — no. He blinked as she did. Her fingers danced over his skin as he stepped away, a fleeting touch he would have chased. Could have. Restraint and space were things he knew in theory, but rarely saw in practice and for once — for once! — he ought to listen to their croning call. His brows furrowed as she reached up to touch him, head tipping forward to chase her hand.

Again, he wouldn’t say he was touch-starved. He had plenty that would run his hand over his coat, scratch the space between the points of his caracal ears. Fingers that would tug playfully at the tufts there, flick his whiskers in jest. But it was just that — he was a pet. A kept creature that slinked in and out of focus until they needed something to comfort them, to occupy them. Not a friend, not a sibling; a pet that could easily be disposed of and replaced. He wasn’t sure which of the ladies would mourn him if he was gone, truly gone.

He blinked again. Thanks were hard to come by, and harder to mean. Maybe Berry meant it. Maybe a few others did, but the rest — shows of gratitude were empty words followed by hollower actions. A pat on the head, a pat on the back. The slap of a palm against his body that forced a laugh from him, but ultimately made him sick.

Mino wouldn’t be helping himself to water, but he hummed as if he might. Nodded his head as if he was considering it. But what he would help himself to was the room he had tried to get into before, and the heirlooms within. He didn’t think he’d seen her put a key to a lock, so it must still be open.

He almost felt bad.

He did feel bad.

It was reminiscent of an old feeling, of when he’d broken a window and gotten caught. Not with Lady Blue; further back. To that shapeless, featureless woman. The kind of bad he felt came not with being reprimanded, but comforted for a mistake he had not intended to make. Like doing as he had been instructed had suddenly become a mistake that would tarnish the words they used on him daily. Good boy; good kitty. Would he be bad?

Mino balked at the thought of her knowing where he lived. It wasn’t a hovel, and it wasn’t the grandest of estates. But the House of Colors was not a place meant for the clean. The people that smelled like lavender and fresh cut grass. For her. It didn’t feel safe. It didn’t feel right. What would Lady Blue do if she happened to see the red-haired girl making her way up their steps with a gift in hand? Nothing good, nothing kind.

“Don’t you worry about that.” He stepped back toward the door. “You can find me anywhere; just follow the cats.” He felt bad, awful, terrible as he opened the door, glanced back to her. She would probably think he lived on the streets, but that was fine. It was better than the alternative. One last look — a wink for good measure, because why not? Why not make himself feel worse than he already did? — and he shut the door.

Out in the hall, he was wrapped in a towel and shame and the last dredges of determination to do his job that festered under regret. His steps were careful as they carried him back to the room he had originally meant to enter. He unwrapped the towel, reached for each jade piece that winked at him in the moonlight and put it in the makeshift sack of the towel. His bones twisted and bent, skin stretched and pulled as he went from person to cat. His teeth latch onto the towel sack and he dragged it toward the window from whence he came.

Mino stewed for a moment, pondered the consequences of what might happen if he just left the sack and returned home. A ringing started in his ears and he shook his head, eyes trained on the window. He hopped out, hastily making his way back to Ocean to hand off the toweled prizes. She scratched at the crown of his head, uttered the words he’d wanted to hear, and turned her back on him without a second thought, leaving him to trail after her.