shelley_winters | (no subject)

(no subject)

[OOC: Directly after this demonstration of Ishamael's power.]

The silence is almost shocking as they vanish from the centre of the storm. The air against her soaking, icy cold skin feels so warm, and she can tell from the slight impact as he steps that they are on solid ground now. Light makes her screw up her eyes, but oh, it's a relief.

Her hands release their tight grip on his robe, and she slides her arms from around his neck pointedly. She won't play. He's mad, and he could hurt her on a whim, and will - she should get out of here.

"P-put me down, please."

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A light laugh as he whispered in her ear. His voice was low and amused. This was a particularly interesting idea. His right thumb strokes her stomach through the thin shift.

"How about we play a game? If you win, then I send you to Milliways for a much longer excursion."

Shelley shivers as a drop of water rolls down her shoulder.

She wants to go back. She had been meaning to ask again soon anyway. But... she doubts she will like his terms. At all.

She turns her head.

"Don't you remember what happened last time?"

Ishamael laughed slightly as he smiled. His fingers tightened around the thin material of her shift.

"That was a long time ago. The stakes are different this time as well. I would not suggest that we make the same wager as last time."

(How about your soul, Lady Shelley?)

"Then what?"

She wants to go back, but there is no way she's getting into one of his games without knowing the stakes.

A razor-edged grin as he continued to toy with her shift lightly with his finger.

"I will tip the odds in your favor. You name the game and the time period for your stay and I will name the other end of the stake. We shall negotiate."

Shelley swallows, thinking hard, flinching when his finger drags gently across her stomach.

"Stop that."

She needs to think, and it's hard to concentrate with him literally breathing down her neck like this.

"Say- a week?"

The longer she asks for, the more he'll want in return. A game she knows well, that he can't manipulate with the Power...

The less clear her thinking, the more he was at an advantage. She chose the time period well. He thought that she would say that. His hands still except for one fingertip tracing small circles.

"And the game?"

She twists again, irritable and uneasy. No, no. She can't think like this, and she wants a dress to wear.

"Let go of me first."

A light laugh, and an amused grin. He retorted quickly.

"Is that a term in the wager?"

Shelley grits her teeth and doesn't answer. She won't say anything until he does, she decides. She may be utterly powerless, but if she has anything to do with it, she will not be treated like a- like this.

Ishamael laughed and released her for a moment, though staying quite close to her.

"Any ideas?"

Not sha'rah. Too tricky, she had almost lost last time. Only the element of surprise and sheer luck had won her that.

But it has to be based on skill...

She tilts her head. "Can you play chess, Elan?"

Ishamael shook his head. It always amused him when she called him Elan--it was so very antiquated, and intimate. Now, as to the wager... He had already had something in mind.

"There is a small formal party that I must attend in a few weeks time. If I win, then you will be my synkeimai to the party."

Now, that would be delightful.

Shelley frowns, then raises an eyebrow.

It meant... company. Something like it, a partner for the evening. And he did specify for the party only.

She had been expecting something a little more... sinister. Not that this isn't a little odd - and odd is worrying, coming from him - but for a few more days away from him...

"That's all?" she asks cautiously. "Just go with you?"

Ishamael nodded calmly. There were some... implications that she might be missing, but she had the fundamental idea of it.

"You would have to act the role, of course, but yes, just that. This is polite society, they will not question anything directly."

Shelley regards him a moment.

No, she doesn't want to. It'll be distasteful, and vaguely humiliating. But a whole week away - longer on Antar - isn't that worth the risk?

What is the risk?
(screamingscreamingscreaming)
Slowly she turns and pulls a dress - blue, not black - out of the chest as she thinks.

A smile as he moved a bit closer. It was certainly fair, and she was considering it. He was quite good at most games, so even if he did not know it, he was quite in favor of winning, regardless.

He would wait for her to choose, and even if he lost, he would still have the pleasure of the time spent.

She pulls the dress on over her head carefully, reaching behind to button it, and scrape her wet hair into her hands in an attempt to stop the shoulders of it getting wet.

"How do I know-"

You won't fly into a rage and try to kill me as you did last time I beat you at a board game?

She bites her lip.

The smile fell from his face as he commented coldly. It was hardly comparable at all. An unfair comparison.

"A lot of time has passed and the circumstances are quite different."

Not really, from where she's standing. She swallows, and doesn't meet his eyes.

"N-not for me. So, I'd like to be sure."

A long sigh as he stepped close to her. One hand on her waist as the other slid up her neck to her face. The tip of his thumb stroked the soft flesh under her jaw. A cool whisper as he brought his face close to hers.

"A lot has changed since then. You do not need to worry as one of the things that has changed is how I feel about you."

A gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth.

Shelley turns her face, and pulls back, cursing her pale skin inwardly. She can't help the colour rising. How he feels. As if he has real feelings, other than rage, and hate.

"Stop it."

She turns further around, facing away, which makes it easier.

"But if you can learn the game, I'll play."

A small, triumphant smile at both the colour and her words. He would win.

"Lady Shelley, Then we will play."

Even after events earlier had gone badly, there was a kind of satisfaction in this.

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