Log:A Fairest Surprise
|A Fairest Surprise|
10 May, 2018
Jack goes to pick up his grandfather clock and meet Zeph again - and gets even more dazzled than usual, as he is ensorceled.
===============-< << All Wound Up - Gallery >> >-===============
Wide oak planks run wall to wall, carefully waxed but left unstained. Wainscotting in darker wood meets the flooring, then gives way to a rich wallpaper of jewel-toned green with stripes of gold fleur-de-lis. Crown moulding is affixed with artistic corner pieces, while lighting comes in the form of electric bulbs on sconces made out to look like gaslights. Two large bay windows at the front of the room have been fixed with window seats in the form of cushioned benches with throw pillows, providing the only seating in the whole of the gallery. The rest of the space has been given over to displays. A pair of cherrywood curios cabinets with paned glass doors flank the doorway into the parlor. And behind a shop counter made to look like an antique bar, one can glimpse the workshop through another door.
The real interest for most in the large room is not so much the decoration as what's on display. In one corner, an Victorian dressmaker's dummy holds up the latest in steampunk garments, changed as frequently as one custom piece is finished or purchased. On the walls are a myriad of clocks ranging from cukoo to grandfather. Pillars or old tables around the floor hold antique music boxes or other clockwork oddments.
It's been nearly a week since Zephyr invited herself to spend the night with Jack, and nearly a week since she cooked him breakfast the next morning and nearly made him late for work. In all that time, they've not managed to have much in the way of face to face contact. But there are signs that she's keeping up her end of their bargain. He'll come back to his cabin to find the horse has been brushed after being walked and fed, with a little cards tucked into his door or a basket of cookies on the front porch. There have probably been texts here and there too. Just enough to give them feeling of a friend, and not a one night stand.
what might be more alarming for Jack though is how it SEEMS he can't quite get Zephyr off his mind. At the most random of times, he hears her voice. Weird, isn't it? To be standing outside having his first cup of coffee in the morning, and Jack would SWEAR that Zephyr was right behind him saying, "Good morning," is an almost groggy whisper. Or that time he was hiking down a trail looking for some lost camper and heard Zephyr beside him voicing her opinion on how stubborn this clock was being? It's really weird. But so real. Maybe Jack, as a psychic, is used to hearing voices in his head.
Not exactly used to hearing /voices/ - Jack has been wondering about that; but he hasn't found it exactly unpleasant. So, though he's puzzled about it, and wondering if someone is messing with him, he's been way too busy to really look into it and besides, he's half wondering if he's just making it up; she did get under his skin, after all. Even so, he's been sending texts but mostly just friendly questions how she's doing, about Troll, or updating her on when he's not home and so on.
Today, he has time. It's early, he's literally here a few minutes after the shop's opened, parking outside and leaving Goblin in the car with a window open. He looks alert, he's gotten more tanned, he's shaved and had a shower and is wearing the ranger outfit - he's probably off to work later. The hat is swiped off as he enters. "Zephyr?"
The bells above the door jangle as the brass clappers strike, announcing Jack even as he starts to speak. Zephyr wanders out of the workshup, a large ceramic mug held in her hands and steam rising from its surface. She's wearing a corset of rich, brown leather an ddark gold accents, having paired it with a pair of jeans and some matching high-heeled boots. Goggles are perched on her head, used in place of some hair band to keep said hair from getting in the way. "Jack!" she calls out with a bright smile and warmth in her voice.
It's a voice that seems far too melodic than normal with hidden eddies of sonorousness. And Zephyr? She's definitely Zephyr but something isn't quite right. It's not just that her hair isn't platinum blonde like last time; that's easy enough to change. It's...
The dark blue of the night sky cascardes down to the small of this woman's back; each strand of hair pulled like a thread of some celestial tapestry, offering glimpses of far-off galaxies with shimmers of dark pinks, milky oranges, and rare greens in the right light, all with stars trapped among them. Her milky skin has been dusted with alien constellations, like carefully placed glitter applied to the skin but refusing to come off and attach to everything else in its wake. Thin of build and given to angular features, she moves with a delicate grace. The sharper lines of her face find another victim in her nose, leaving it with a degree of hawkishness. When she's not just waking up, these sharp lines are softened further through the use of cosmetics: dusky pinks to make her lips plumper, subtle hints of glittered color across her eyelids, and dark, thick eyelashes all help call attention to other aspects of her visage. Aspects like the heterochromia of her eyes: one a pale, crystal blue, the other an almost metalic silver-gray. Stare for to long and you might glimpse a shooting star in those eyes.
Zephyr appears in her late twenties, with the carefree attitude of someone that hasn't been overly touched by the world around them. Her milky skin is unmarred with scar or ink that might tell the story of previous strife, and her smile is quick to form. There's a melodic cadence to her voice when she speaks that, and an ethereal quality that haunts her features. Her height of 5'6" is often modified by high heels or platform boots to give another 3".
Then there's the feeling one has when near Zephyr. It's the feeling of a held breath, sucked in suddenly in anticipation and held until the lungs start to burn. Something is about to happen, it's just hard to tell what...
If he thought she was beautiful when he couldn't see her mien - well, he seems to think she's even more wondrous now. That's the Fairest part, perhaps - a curse and a blessing both. But Jack can't find any words for now, chosing to remain quiet while studying her openly, not bothering to hide that he can /see/ her.
Seeing Jack struck so speechless, and not knowing the cause for it, she looks down to see if her corset has slipped and is showing too much cleavage - or worse!. The garment is tugged up a bit, just in case, which gives a rather graceful shimmy to that Fairest body he can see so clearly now. The cup of coffee is then placed on the counter top and Zephyr closes the gap between them. "Forgot what you came here for?" she asks, teasing.
Should Jack not move away, Zephyr's arms curl around his neck and she lifts up on tip-toes enough that a kiss of sparkling lips is placed against him. This close, it's hard not to feel her Mantle. It's a tightening of the chest, a burning of longs, a sense of real anticipation. And that feeling lingers even when the kiss breaks, her arms remaining around his neck. "Your clock's ready, by the way. I was going to call you later about that, but since you're already here..."
Jack doesn't stop her at all. He's a bit dazed, but kisses her back willingly and with the same sensual feeling he always shows; arm curling around her and eyes closing for the moment the kiss lasts. His arm remains curled around her and he looks into her eyes - the other hand goes to her hair, touching it in wonderment. "What?" he says distractedly - yes, he completely forgot why he came here. "Your hair," he tells her, trying to touch a sparkling thing in it; a star? A nova?
He struggles to compose himself - that radiating heat doesn't help. "Zephyr. I can see you." He's looking searchingly into her eyes, perhaps wondering if he's been put under a spell by her in the past. Clearly, he's under one now - or something else happened.
It really looks like glitter should cling to Jack's fingers when he draws them back from her hair, but it doesn't. Zephyr frowns up at the man, staring at his eyes. "Did you get some bad shrooms, babe?" she asks. Reaching up, she even tries to pull his bottom eyelid down to look closer. "Or just not getting enough sleep? Of course you can see me." No, she's not getting it yet.
Catching her hand in his, lowering it from his face and kissing it gently, Jack has to smile. He can't seem to stop being wondrous. He /could/ pretend he's not seeing anything special or odd; but it's not like him to be deceptive to a friend. "Afraid not. No bad shrooms or any drugs at all. Just a veil pull from my eyes." He does kiss her again, quickly - then releases her. BEcause maybe now she'll not want to touch him again as he adds; "You're one of them. The fair folks. And man, are you fair."
Oh, she kisses him back. That's a very enjoyable activity, whether he's on LSD or not. But when he calls her one of the fair folk? Well, she's close enough that even if Jack didn't see it, he'd certainly feel Zephyr tense and flinch. "What have you done, Jack Fry?" she asks, voice almost a whisper.
Remaining close, but keeping his hands to the side - his hat is on the floor now, he dropped it and forgot about it - Jack holds a hand up in a calming gesture. Gaze flicks to her hair again, as it is distracting and wonderfully amazing - but he focuses on her face with some effort, and says; "It's alright." His voice is friendly and warm, and he seems a bit worried. "I won't tell a soul. You don't have to worry about me." He's sure that she's nervous about that.
Zephyr sighs, leaning her head forward so her forehead is against his chest. She breathes slowly, taking in the man's scent. "Don't call us fair folk; it's not really what we are. Not as you think of them. It's as apt to make you enemies as friends." Zeph doesn't look up, not yet. She just rests there against him, letting him hold her hand or just hold her, whatever works best. "Suppose it was inevitable, man like you, going around naming things after fairytales."
Jack can't help but chuckle at that. He puts both arms around her and holds her tightly - but one hand soon snakes into her hair again, taking the chance to touch it. He inhales her scent deep into his lungs - how didn't he notice it before? That heat? It's dizzying. "Alright. It's just the name I grew up hearing in folktales and legends," he admits. "Most of them have a kernel of truth and a load of bullshit." His heart is beating quite fast, but he does seem calm. It's probably a bit of adrenaline mixed with surprise. "I do know who made this happen - but I don't know if it's forever. I best ask them."
"No, it won't be forever," Zephyr answers. She tips her head back, kisses his chin. "Did you eat something, or did you speak some words?" she asks. Her arms curl around his waist now and she hugs him closer. It's maybe more affectionate than one would expect it to be for their brief time together. "And.. you really think I look fair like this, Jack Fry? Truth now!"
"I spoke some words, but didn't realise this would happen. I trust the one who did this though - I'm not angry. I just wish they'd told me what /could/ happen..." Jack seems amused, however. That maybe, whomever did this, was pranking him a little too. He looks down at her face again - if there was any doubt that he thinks she looks beautiful, that should evaporate seeing that admiration in his eyes. "Stunning. Amazing. Wonderful." He mock-glares at her. "Did you put a spell on me too?"
"Then it will last the length of time stated in the words, no more or less," Zephyr answers. She strokes the backs of her fingers against his cheek. "I have not enchanted you in any way, my dear friend. Though to see you look at me so, I might." She leans up, takes his lower lip in hers, and suckle-kisses briefly. "Though you must never tell of us; it puts us in danger."
"Alright." Jack seems mollified to learn that - clearly, he's never experienced this before. But he also does seem to know a little about the Lost - although on the folktale-level. Not surprised that they exist, for sure, like many in the town. "Yeah I think you enchanted me without any sort of magic," he tells her fondly, kissing her forhead after a sharp intake of breath from that suckle-kiss; he's getting other thoughts in his head now. Hard not to. "And I will never, I swear. It'd put people I care for in danger, as you say."
With another nuzzle, the star-woman leaves the warmth of a nibble on Jack's throat. "Why don't you come back after work to pick up the clock, and pick me up? Your place or mine, I'll make us dinner and we can talk about this more, when neither of us have other things to do with our day," Zephyr suggests. "I can't promise to answer questions, but I can let you see some fireworks at the least."
Relutantly releasing her, stealing another quick kiss, Jack nods at her. And looks forward to it, grinning. "I'll be here," he promises, bending to pick up his hat and brush it off. "You don't have to answer any questions or even talk about it at all," he reassures. "And, tonight - I won't see you like this. Time should be up."
Zephyr shrugs. "You could see me like this if you wanted. But we can discuss that later." When he bends over, Zephyr grabs his ass. Because why not? "I'll see you around... six?" she asks, to make sure of how much time she has to run around to the nearby markets to get whatever she's going to be cooking for dinner.
Jack jumps up almost. Glares at her goodnaturedly. "Six," he agrees, tips his hat at her and then wanders out after one last lingering look at her, fumbling with the door. Because well, she has that effect on him...