Despite having a room at the inn, Clover found she felt less inclined to be there. Perhaps the bear-man had been right about the city?or at least the inn?breeding badness. She had stopped off at the inn only long enough to shower and change for a party at Zen Gardens that she?d seen fliers for. It didn?t matter that she didn?t have a date or would most likely not know anyone there, it sounded like the perfect opportunity for getting out and away from what she was starting to think of as a hub for unfortunate events. Besides, when had the lack of a date or knowing people ever held Clover back? That day had yet to arrive.

The party proved a good call. Hardly into her first solo dance and she managed to make a new friend?Taya, owner and manager of the Shanachie Theatre. Clover then spent the party in company of Taya and her fianc?, Max, having taken to the pair instantly. Aside from new friends, Clover?s night paid off in the form of two tickets for the next night?s performance of The Rocky Horror Show and a lead on a space being available in the very building that was the location for the rooftop party. It was deeply etched into her mind that she?d have to see about calling on Fiora first thing in the morning. If not at Zen Garden, based from Taya?s own words, Clover had hope that Fiora would be a far more capable realtor than the apparent ghost of a woman she was dealing with presently. Relocating was very high on Clover?s list of things to accomplish as soon as possible. At the top of the list??finding somewhere else to sleep that night. Somewhere between the two, Clover speculated on finding a date to make use of the second ticket Taya had given her.

It happened that Clover hadn?t paid any attention to the sign hanging above the dusty book store that she entered when she entered it. It had been the first place she?d come across after leaving the party at the Zen Gardens that looked like it might have a spot for her to sit, curl up, maybe even sleep. It was dimmer than Teas?n Tomes, not as welcoming and without the offer of treats or refreshments. The books within were used, donated by the dead of RhyDin more than likely. Only a few bodies lingered here and there within the isles or in seats and cushions provided. Clover skimmed the selection, looking well out of place in her pretty dress and heels. When proper?if not appropriate?distraction was found, she took the chosen novel with her and made herself comfortable in a large, beaten, pine green armchair.

--

It was late and closing time, Julius moved out from behind the clerk desk to busy himself with the task of closing down the shop. The chore easy enough to accomplish, given the regulars didn?t muss anything up too much and the non-regulars were few and far between. As far as a part-time job went, this one wasn?t bad. Decent pay and hours with enough down time on the job that it gave him time to study. There was only a couple years left in his college career, then he could really start thinking about relocating. Julius? mind, however, was quickly drawn out of thoughts about all the places he?d go when he realized he was not as alone as he had originally thought.

The woman was settled in the large, green armchair. Her flawless presence at odds with the tears, stains and spilling fluff from the piece of furniture she occupied. Sitting so that her back was put against one heavy arm, her legs were brought up to rest against the other. Pale pink heels had been discarded on the floor leaving her feet as bare as the stretch of legs that the soft skirt of her cyan green dress didn?t cover. If her presence alone hadn?t been enough to stop his pulse and make his throat run dry, the novel she read would have done that. Velvet Lips. It wasn?t some dime store romance novel, couching sexual desires within a dramatic plot to appease more delicate sensitivities, it was a base erotic novel written for the sole purpose of being smut. Julius knew, he?d read it himself more times than he?d ever admit to and many of the dog-eared pages were of his own doing.

She caught him there, watching her. Unsure if he was unable or not interested in talking. A finger bookmarked the page she was on as she lifted a delicate brow in question to the lad.

With effort, Julius found his voice.

?We-we?re close. Miss. Ma?am. Miss.?

An inward burn of embarrassment as Julius? found voice sounded faster and higher than he recalled. He cleared his throat and tried further.

?Y-you?ll? have to?leave.?

?Oh.? Came her response, soft lashes fluttering softly.

The turn of her lips in a pleased smile was nothing Julius could readily account for with his minimal?as in no?experience with women. She turned her body toward the side, causing the skirt of her dress to ride higher along with the placement of his heart in his throat. Unlike earlier evictions, this one sounded far less convincing.

?What?s your name??

?Julius... Ma?am.?

?Mm. Julius. You can call me Clover.?

?Uh? okay, Clover. I?m uh? sorr?? Whatever Julius planned to say next didn?t come out.

Clover pulled herself from the chair, moving in a sensual manner that was second nature to her. Blue-greys became soft bedroom eyes as she stopped just before him, find he stood only a few inches taller than her. His soft brown eyes watched her from behind thin spectacles as her delicate hand was lifted and brushed familiarly over his jaw.

Julius swallowed hard.

?I have two questions for you Julius,? She spoke with an inviting smile, ?and if you answer correctly, you?ll make both of us very happy.?

Julius swallowed hard, again, and nodded.

?First question. Where do you sleep??

?I..? A third hard swallow, ?In the apartment?u-upstairs.?

?Mm, good.? He felt her move a hair?s breadth closer, canting her head. Her lips ever in that curl that drew you closer, ?Second question. Do you enjoy the theatre??

After signing, Clover existed on cloud nine for the rest of the day. She?d gone by the inn, settling up the bill and making arrangements for her belongings to be moved to the Zen Gardens the following day and then spent a good amount of time at the market, looking for anything and everything the new place would need. It was the rare feeling of settling in, she was anxious and eager for the space she would be calling her own. Sunday night saw her fetching Julius from his job at the RhyDin Archive bookstore so that he could attend the last performance of Rocky Horror with her. Smartly she?d given herself enough time to allow for convincing him to wear the Rocky costume she?d grab for him. He wasn?t quite the perfection of Adonis, but he wore it well enough to earn a few interested smiles from other members of the audience. Clover, dressed as Magenta, received a few glances herself?though it was probably due to the radical array of her electric red locks. The end of the night saw her crashing with Julius in his small apartment above the book store, looking over the assorted forms of contact information given to them during intermission and after the show. Clover weighed in on which girls she thought were worth pursuing and the pair fell asleep like a couple of best friends, whispering secrets back and forth into the night


Even with being up late, Clover awoke well before dawn. Today was the day! Move in day! She readied herself with a jubilant spirit that would have been an equal match to Fiora?s from the day before. Bidding farewell to Julius, she headed to the Zen Gardens to oversee the moving process. And what a process it would be! Clover couldn?t remember exactly how long it had been since she?d bothered taking up a more permanent residence somewhere, but it had at least been two years and all those belongings had long since been claimed by the next habitant of the flat she?d left. She would be starting completely from scratch. Clover couldn?t have been happier.

May 17, 2011 ? The Seer Comes Calling

I was quite familiar with the Zen Gardens thanks to Fiora's choice of residency and had visited a time or two during her recovery. It was because of this familiarity that I chose to time my progression through the West End with the routines of the Watchmen who were quite resplendent in their willingness to offer their guardianship. Escorted as I was, I mingled and socialized with several before arriving safely before the statuaries that guarded the establishment. Wishing them well, I ascended in search of the lovely Clover.

The door to Clover's place stood open in expectation. Natural light poured through sheer curtains that covered to two large windows opposite the door and two more that bookended the door leading out to her private balcony to the left. The floor plan was wide and spacious, filled with soft shades of cream and muted tan, cooler grays, stark whites and harder browns. A hint of color present here and there in the aqua of a pillow, the red blush of a flower in a bubble bowl on a table, or the artwork on her wall. Each image a moment captured unknowing to the subject it held within. To the right, by the door leading to the bathroom, there was a sketch done in black?a redheaded girl leaned up against the wall of a building, haloed by an overhead light, in the midst of others girls and several young sailors. The redhead in the sketch smiled and one could almost hear the buzz of talk, the bubble of laughter she soon would emit. Clover moved, in the kitchen, heard but not yet seen from the door. The scent of freshly baked lemon bread lifted into the hallway beyond.

The delightful seduction of Clover apparently carried over into baking as the scent teased me and led me onward. As I navigated the corridor and paused politely in the open arch of her doorway I found myself slightly breathless upon this luminal state. The threshold to something was a taunt I couldn't ignore. Somehow I knew that the simple reading we had scheduled may not be blessed by such mundane details; there was simply something about her that set as a foreshadowing upon my senses. Regardless I gently tapped my gloved knuckles upon the doorframe and awaited her acknowledgment as I drank in the tasteful sight of her rooms. I was surprised and hoped that it didn't show. The only other Zen Garden's apartment I had visited was Fiora's and her taste lent itself toward the kitschy and the strangely eclectic. There were no lockers serving as dressers or a caution taped off kitchen here.

The room laid open, but for the space of her bedroom to the left--which was sectioned off by Japanese panels of dark wood and cream screens, something that would lend a shadow of show had she been on the other side. But the electric red hair poked out from the kitchen, followed by Clover. Her home attire is far more simplistic than what she wore when she went out. A light blue tee and khaki shorts. She moved with bare feet from the kitchen and to the door to great her guest, "Tasha!" Sure, she had been expected, but that didn't make it any less of a thrill to see the seer at her door. Greeting by way of a gentle hug, peck to the cheek. Clover then offered the other her hand to guide her within, shutting the door behind them.

Her enthusiasm was hard not to match and I was unable to contain the lift of my own normally stern lips into a pleased smile at her reaction. I could find comfort in such stylishly easy furnishings and gently teased myself for my snobbery at expecting something else. The gentle hug was returned as was a brush of my lips across her cheek, the scent of wildflowers greeted and appreciated. Unbeknownst to myself a cinnamon hint hovered about me, seductively clinging and hinting at another. My gloved fingers found hers, twined easily and welcomingly as I was drawn within her private domain. Would that I felt overdressed in comparison but such was my nature that I took no pain at my fussy state of prissy decor. Though in honor of her freedom inspiring nature I had actually left my hair uncovered by hat and veil, the sleek dark length of my hair twined and controlled in rigid harmony. "It is wonderful to see you, Clover." And sincerity painted my greeting.

Soft inhalation of that cinnamon scent, pondering those secrets it hinted at. People were so remarkable, each and every one of them. She had enjoyed her dinner and night with Gauge and now she would enjoy this moment with Tasha. Still more moments to be enjoyed with others, but she kept to the present. Guiding Tasha to the comfortable couch, a milk chocolate in color with pillows patterned with aqua and a darker chocolate. "Make yourself comfortable. I have made us a snack." Releasing her hand to retreat into the kitchen, which was open from the angle of the couch and she remained in view. She put a few more things together then brought out a silver tray with a plate of the fresh lemon bread, two smaller plates, a pitcher of sweet tea and two glasses already poured. The tray set on the low coffee table. Clover sat down beside Tasha and served a slice of the bread onto a plate. Despite her birth right of being one to be served, Clover moved with the easy grace of a woman with training to cater to another.

"I have to say I'm impressed with your tasteful decorations. Did you hire a designer?" Small talk with purpose as I was admittedly curious about the answer. My gloves were removed and placed within my clutch. The vivid blue matching the dress I had chosen for this occasion. The couch became my throne and my legs crossed in the silky glide of nylon kissed legs. "I'm quite famished and if the smells from your kitchen are any sign I can't wait to taste what you've prepared." I took note of her easy movements, the royal carriage of servitude and wondered at what it hinted at, would the star's reveal a natural submissive? One whose pleasure was indelibly linked to the pleasure gained by another? I didn't mean to let my twilight gaze linger so brazenly and would've been acutely discomforted had I realized.

"I worked with designers, but only so much as to enable them to help acquire the items I wanted." Her homes, during the small times she settled into something more than a temporary home, became her private sanctuary. Zen Gardens well suited that need for her to live peaceful surroundings, despite her tendency to cuddle with more dangerous things. Her home should be free of it. And it was, more so now with Tim away and living elsewhere. The plate of bread was offered over to the seer before Clover took her own piece. Legs lifted and curling around her as she used the back of the couch in recline and considered her guest. Not minding that gaze that lingered. It was met with an easy smile and openness. Clover was like the calmest of bays, waiting to shelter any ship needing to take anchor.

"Do you even realize that you do it?" I hadn't meant to ask, perhaps it was her easy welcomeness that drew the question unhindered from my lips. I took a moment to sip from the sweet tea, pleased at the beverage choice, before explaining, "Seek everyone else's comfort and happiness so effortlessly?"

There was a pause, she wasn't quite shocked but she wasn't entirely unsurprised by the question prompted by Tasha. There was a soft smile, she looked to her hands in thought. "It isn't the most common trait of my people." She considered the question further, "It has become effortless, with training." Years at Delaney's Institute for the Physical Arts. Clover had learned every art of good companionship. Though, it also served her in that it was, in a manner, a way to brush over those feelings that cracked through her core?guilt, shame, concern. She built a life were those worried didn't need to be addressed.

Her answer was surprisingly edifying for I felt a resistance at her center. A natural inclination that demanded worship. Indeed, she seemed to thrive on a spiritual level when met with adoration and pleasure. I did not share my insights just yet as I instead chose to nibble at the bread she'd provided. The tart taste pleasant. Savoring the flavor I chose to open myself to the influence of the celestial bodies in that moment, gently forewarning, "When I read I tend to become quite...flooded with sensation." Demure tones concealing the whisper of my need that filtered through me like an addiction. The pleasure was so close I trembled.

She gave a slow nod, emptying her hands of the plate she held and settling in to watch the seer at work. The emotions of others at times being something she could be very open to, more so with the seer being there. Clover was quiet anticipation.

As the weight of the stars descended upon me I contained my reaction in the gentle fisting of my hands in my lap. Rigidly austere, my posture remained perfect, the sight I presented always elegant and refined as a direct contradiction to the purely primitive wave of ecstasy that stretched my senses to their limits. For an observer it might appear as if I had quit breathing, for indeed I held that indrawn breath desperately taut to keep the ragged sound of delirium from passing my tightened lips. To those empathetic the assault of pleasure rivaled an orgasmic experience and a spiritual awakening. Thrumming with the power and the pressure of the stars I allowed them to take me, lift me, un-thread my very essence and strum me as if I were simply the instrument of their pleasure. A low sound vibrated in perfect pitch from deep within my throat as my lashes lifted to reveal the twilight emptiness of my celestial gaze. The black wells pinpricked with lights much like a night sky. "Born during the Week of Manifestation. The Venus Star held court upon your birth. Personally invested in you, the harmonies and discordances of love are forever entwined with your path." The husky timbre of my voice could not be helped, hoarsened as if I had spent hours moaning in raw abandonment, once began I could not stop without risk and pain, "Those born beneath this star's influence are hard-headed...amongst the most dominant individuals of all. They do not rest once they have decided upon a course of action."

It was good that Clover was not touching Tasha as the stars took her, or she might have easily followed into that sensational pit as it was, the pleasure from the other licked like visible waves of warmth in the air. It stilled Clover's own breath in her lungs and throat. The grey of her eyes fleeing a little and leaving them bluer as she listened and marveled.

I moaned. It was a rare breach of restraint, but the sight and weight of Clover's response was felt on a primal level that had my rigid demeanor slipping. Tearing my gaze upward and from the vision of her I sought to complete the reading while I was still able. The swan like column of my throat, a milky white symbol of my shaking resolve as I swallowed around the sounds of pleading ravishment and instead forced sensible words from my dry throat, "Naturally productive, strengthened through structure with a penchant for practicality that will make you a naturally gifted leader should you ever choose to assume such a mantle. Incredibly stubborn, they are impossible to convince of the need for change once they have made their decisions. This can be a weakness if left to run untended." As the stars revealed more I could not contain what sounded suspiciously like a whimper of need, "Physical beings. Intensely physical, those born in the Week of Manifestation take intimate pleasure in people, sex, food, comfort, and all forms of recreation. Able to immerse themselves with abandon and achieve bliss rarely seen by most."

Tasha's eyes averted to the ceiling, Clover's blues watched the expanse of her swan like neck. Even as words of meaning were spoken, she found herself distracted by that flesh and the need that arose from it. She was leaning forward before training called her back to herself and she reigned herself in. Flooded with sensations indeed. Momentarily Clover had to wonder how Natasha's viewing of the seer at work went, recalling that envy. Invisible thoughts stilled her hands from reaching out, keeping them captured in her own lap. Warnings of a need for change, it did not go unnoticed. It was slipped away into that stubborn barrier she didn't often peek behind. Lips wet at the list of pleasures and the insight her Clover's abilities to achieve a level of bliss unknown to others.

"Be wary of complacency. Of falling captive to other's views and controls." I forced myself to ignore the blazingly moist heat that assaulted me and left me squirming upon her couch in an unseemly display of wantonness. "Do not become distracted by the pleasures and lose sight of your true desires, such sedentary complacency can be damaging and dangerous to you. Your generosity is both a blessing and a curse, your desire to see to other's happiness may make you lose sight of your own." I was gasping now, nearly panting and would've been flame-cheeked had I retained awareness of myself and my growing undulations, "Your desire for harmony and need for affection makes you vulnerable to emotional manipulation and appeals. Those who interact with you must be wary of taking advantage of you and Never...Never should any engage in a direct confrontation with those of this star's alignment, for their tempers are glorious and will consume both them and the object of their anger...." I was lost now, unable to regain my control and as I shuddered beneath the onslaught of release I drew my gaze back to her, the twilight fire of celestial energies dissipating in slow pulsations as I practically purred my final advice, "Do not let fear dictate your relations, nor other's needs continuously supersede your own. Do not lose sight of yourself in the pursuit of pleasure....Allow yourself to believe in that which you inspire in others." The last was whispered as I collapsed back upon her couch...breathless and spent.

Star song singing through the voice of the other, to song to be held by words and consuming the whole of Tasha to Clover's amazement. Nearly feeling the release of the seer as her own. Her eyes flashed a brighter blue before softening to a shade that still wasn't quite her natural, but closer to normal in general. A breath shuddered and some part of her clung to those last words... allow yourself to believe... with a secret hope, she tucked that away too. Something to think on later?to really think on. She let Tasha rest against the couch before leaning over and touching the woman's cheek softly. Comfort, energy offered, radiating in that touch. But the brush of palm and finger tips was more adoring, followed by the gentle press of lips.

Words were a waste when Clover could think of far better ways to thank the seer for the reading.