[ you really don't wanna be the one explaining petplay to a hysterical Sprezzatura Vaux. trust me on this.
she reaches up and pulls at the leather, but it's very snug to her throat and it does not move. ]
He was fucking vague. "Day or so". And mark me: no one is parading me around in front of everyone as though I am spectacle or pet. I need you to help me there— [ she nods towards the open door of the bathroom ] —and then... tomorrow... before breakfast, take me to lobby so I may eat.
[ yeah, her hands do spasm for a moment, but they just continue to pry at the collar. trying to. ]
This?! This is how staff is treating your wounds, should you ask them for their help! That "maintenance man", he who opened our doors on first night, I went to him, and he gives me this and tells me this is my price.
[She's realizing the implications of this - they're gonna need to do stuff like this for healing every time. Oh, this sucks.]
Haaaaauuuuuugghhh.
Okay, okay, we're not engaging in spite-based flaunting then. But you have to promise me no more flagrantly risking your own health until one of us has a healing spell -- and Void witches don't even get those, so I dunno what we're even gonna do about that!
slowly, her hands open and fall from her damaged throat. an element of her can acknowledge, at a distance, the reasoning behind Nessa's suggestion. there are people here who would delight in making her life an even bigger hell if they found out about the collar—and a thousand times that if they found out while she was evidently trying to hide it. ]
There has to be—to be someone. Cleric, or something.
[ wizards don't get healing spells, either. not even scribes do. ]
Okay. Okay. Yes. It's a multi-dimensional nexus, someone here has to be a Cleric or a Harmony witch or a White Mage or whatever dumb thing their world calls someone that casts healing magic.
I'll find someone. I'll find someone and get them on our side.
-- frankly, it looks like the maintenance man left your neck half-finished, so I'll try to do it sooner rather than later.
It will not come off until I have paid his price. [ "a day or so". ] While I wear it, it heals.
[ but, Mammon! it would have fucking healed anyway, if she'd just bound her neck in a torn-up sheet! ]
Nessa. Lapochka. Please... please take me to washroom.
[ it's almost begging; like, you can imagine her begging for something nicer, in this tone. but it's still not sexy, not even with her half undressed and wearing a buckled collar for Nessa's use, because what she's begging for is the chance to wash away the blood. ]
[Look, there's a lot going on. She takes Sprezzatura's hand and tugs her in the direction of the bathroom, hoping that once they're holding hands, she can follow.]
[ it works... mostly. she finds the paralysis faded, somewhat, and stiffly allows Nessa to lead her. releasing a shaky, hard breath of relief as she does ]
It is not about you not being able to protect yourself! It is about luxury of not having to! Of better life! [ again, she tugs at the immoveable leather collar ] Mammon—can I not want that for you?
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Nevermind. Doesn't matter.
I.
So I have to lead you along by this? [She points to the collar.] F -- for how long?
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she reaches up and pulls at the leather, but it's very snug to her throat and it does not move. ]
He was fucking vague. "Day or so". And mark me: no one is parading me around in front of everyone as though I am spectacle or pet. I need you to help me there— [ she nods towards the open door of the bathroom ] —and then... tomorrow... before breakfast, take me to lobby so I may eat.
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...
...
Miss Vaux.
I'm going to say something that may make you want to beat me to within an inch of my life.
Can you promise me you'll hear me out before you do that.
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And the only thing to do with men like that is deprive them of their desires.
Then wouldn't the way to deny him what he wants be to proudly display yourself, dignified as ever, unfettered by his curse?
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This?! This is how staff is treating your wounds, should you ask them for their help! That "maintenance man", he who opened our doors on first night, I went to him, and he gives me this and tells me this is my price.
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Oh my god, it's even worse than the prison.
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[She's realizing the implications of this - they're gonna need to do stuff like this for healing every time. Oh, this sucks.]
Haaaaauuuuuugghhh.
Okay, okay, we're not engaging in spite-based flaunting then. But you have to promise me no more flagrantly risking your own health until one of us has a healing spell -- and Void witches don't even get those, so I dunno what we're even gonna do about that!
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slowly, her hands open and fall from her damaged throat. an element of her can acknowledge, at a distance, the reasoning behind Nessa's suggestion. there are people here who would delight in making her life an even bigger hell if they found out about the collar—and a thousand times that if they found out while she was evidently trying to hide it. ]
There has to be—to be someone. Cleric, or something.
[ wizards don't get healing spells, either. not even scribes do. ]
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I'll find someone. I'll find someone and get them on our side.
-- frankly, it looks like the maintenance man left your neck half-finished, so I'll try to do it sooner rather than later.
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[ but, Mammon! it would have fucking healed anyway, if she'd just bound her neck in a torn-up sheet! ]
Nessa. Lapochka. Please... please take me to washroom.
[ it's almost begging; like, you can imagine her begging for something nicer, in this tone. but it's still not sexy, not even with her half undressed and wearing a buckled collar for Nessa's use, because what she's begging for is the chance to wash away the blood. ]
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[Look, there's a lot going on. She takes Sprezzatura's hand and tugs her in the direction of the bathroom, hoping that once they're holding hands, she can follow.]
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I want you to be safe here.
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And I am not letting you perish again under my care!
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[ FUCK!!! she sits down hard on the edge of the tub. slouches. ]
I do not mean to be this way.
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...
...How long were you standing there, immobile, before you called me.
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