On the Floating Island

Hisha had, almost as long as he could remember, loved big cities and crowded places. His family, more rural by nature, had never really understood his fascination with big events or the tall buildings of downtown Kiri, and the Heavenly Emporium could very well have frightened them. However, Hisha felt more in his element than he had in a long time. He meandered from stall to stall, grabbing snacks and a souvenir here or there, taking in the wide range of musical stylings which the vendors and Okane's army of employees had chosen to pump in to the atmosphere. He found himself gravitating naturally to places which had the best food options and near speakers that played some more soft techno music.

Having not done much research, and having come more for fun than social clout, the man completely missed the masquerade portions of the festival. On the other hand, the festival had kicked off at least a few days ago, so some of the more formal opening ceremonies and such had died down, so fewer people adhered strictly to the more formal dress code. Himself, Hisha wore a pair of 5 in, blue and white vertical stripe dock shorts and a forest green, very deep v-neck t-shirt. Octopoid tentacles in dark navy ink flowed down his left arm, stopping just before the wrist. He had, as usual, done his hair up meticulously and put on some cologne that smelled faintly of sandalwood.

Turning down an ally to a more populous thoroughfare, the man paused to stare openly down the street, which permitted an absorbing view of the massive palace Okane had created for his living quarters. A half eaten taiyaki, perched precariously in his mouth, fell to the ground. "Oh shit." Luckily, he had purchased a pack of 15 of them, but he tore his eyes away from the beautiful palace to the ruined fish pastry. "I really wanted to eat that one" he whined softly to himself

Sayuri didn’t know how to ‘dress down’. She was always in some gown or other, covered in designs that were reminiscent of the ice and snow that was in her soul. Today was no different as she had created a stunning long white gown out of hyoton and it was appropriately embellished with ice crystals that caught the light and sparkled like diamonds. She had been offered a mask when she first arrived, but had declined and instead had formed her own mask out of hyoton as well, ice crystals jutting out to give her the appearance of an ethereal ice forged bird of prey. Her entire outfit, including her intricately styled blonde hair, gave the impression of her rank. Unless you looked closely you might not even notice that the Ice Queen wore no shoes. She never did, she found them oppressive and a reminder of her time spent under the thumb of her ‘family’.

Sayuri had wandered the streets, content to stay behind her mask and just observe the goings on. Eventually though two things happened; she found herself annoyed by the boisterousness of the revellers and simultaneously she realized that the people around her were starting to look. . . edible.

‘Perhaps you should get some real food, my Queen?’

‘People are real food.’

‘I suppose, but I don’t feel like that would be looked upon too kindly.’

‘Why not?’

‘It is a party.’

‘All the more reason then, it’s practically a buffet.’

‘That’s not wha-’

‘I know it isn’t, my King.’

‘You have a miraculous gift, my Queen.’

‘And what is that?’

‘The power of time. You extend each hour by several millennia each time we speak.’

‘Why thank you. I think.’

‘Anything for you, my Queen. In all seriousness though, you should find a quiet place before anything untoward happens.’

‘You’re probably right. Though I am less happy with this plan.’

‘I expected as much. I promise to make it up to you later.’

‘I will hold you to that.’

‘I would expect nothing less.’

As she spoke to Jareth in her mind, Sayuri walked along through the crowd and finally turned down an alley just in time to see a very attractive man stop as he dropped some sort of food. She was behind him only about ten feet away but not yet in sight of the street he was exiting on to. Taking another few steps forward she would call out to him. “We could get more.” She would have a charming smile on her face as she stepped out of the shadows, a stark slash of white in an otherwise darkened alleyway. She had been looking for food after all, and her boldness knew no bounds.

In his moment of despair, his favorite red bean taiyaki gathering dust on the narrow street, a woman's voice startled him from behind. He jumped slightly, skittish, and quickly came about to face her. "Yeah the timing just sucks. The view was-" Speaking while turning casually around, Hisha broke off mid sentence at the sight before him. Ethereal, like a ghost or an angel, stood a figure of a woman so posh and regal of dress that the man's brain stalled out for a couple seconds and he stood, staring dumbly. His narrow eyes widened about as big as they would go and, in his absorption, he nearly failed to notice that the little fish pastries of his were about to spill from the little box. On reflex, he lunged forward and hunkered down to better get his hand under the box, stabilizing his food.

Another beat passed as he looked up, himself now in a half-kneel before a woman he did not yet recognize as one of his queens. A flesh-colored starfish tattoo peeked out from his deep v, having apparently slid across his body to get a better view. He straightened up, sweeping a hand through his hair in an overt attempt to appear casual. "Caught it." He extended a hand out to Sayuri, offering up one of the delicacies. A thin sheen of sweat broke out on his skin, despite the sudden chill, but his desire to look very cool in front of a pretty woman. "Do you like taiyaki? Or we could go get something else. The udon a few stalls back smells really good." He gave a practiced little grin as a punctuation.

On the inside, his heart raced and if asked, he could swear the woman would be able to hear it. Despite his generally easy-going nature, Hisha had never been particularly social or outgoing, and meeting people was hard for him. Especially people as breathtaking as this small woman.

As the tattooed man turned to face her and stopped speaking mid sentence, Sayuri knew this was going to be fun. She had been looking for a quiet place to still her mind and she had found both food and potentially someone to play with. She chose to ignore the man’s awkwardness as he had to catch his food once more, causing him embarrassment might just make him scurry away and she didn’t want that. Instead she approached slowly, smiling all the while and maintaining eye contact.

Once she was close enough that one more step would have her bump into the man’s offered food, she would pause and lower her gaze to the taiyaki he was holding out for her. Tiny pastries in the shape of fish, something she was familiar with and actually liked. It was not quite as good as other treats she had in mind, but it would do. Reaching a pale and cold hand out she would delicately grasp one of the pastries and lift it so it was eye level. She would turn the pastry slowly as though considering whether she would consume it or not then speak quietly. “I do like these, I haven’t had one in many years. But I don’t want to take all of your food, I am quite voracious.” Her sentence was punctuated by meeting his gaze again and grinning wickedly. Without eating the pastry she would place it down again and turn her attention to the stranger’s bare skin, eyeing the fascinating art there. Without so much as a questioning glance to seek permission, she would raise her hand to attempt to trace along the tattoos that she could see. “These are beautiful, do you have more?” If she was allowed to make contact, her touch would be icy cold though she would also smile knowingly as she would be able to feel his increased heart rate and the slight dampness of his skin. Sayuri was genuinely interested in the man’s tattoos. She had seen many types of markings in her life, but was as yet unfamiliar with the intricacies of tattooing. In a different setting she might have asked, or tried to discover, how deep beneath the skin they went.

Something deep in the animal brain of the man sent a thrilling wave of adrenaline through him as the woman continued her steady approach despite his clumsiness. She had a refined, smooth walk which, alongside her shimmering garb, made her seem like some kind of storybook princess, and yet her unwavering, almost hungry gaze felt in some profound way at odds. He watched, spellbound, as she helped herself to one of the little fish and looked it over and returned it to him. He'd always been very good at sharing and couldn't just fill up on sweets regardless, so it would not have bothered in him the slightest had she simply eaten it, though he assumed from her words some slight bashfulness to take his food. "Oh no worries, we can always get more at -"

He cut off mid-sentence with a sharp intake of breath. Thin trails of ice traced along the massive flow of tentacles which spilled across his skin as the woman etched delicate lines, his flesh prickling at the sudden temperature difference.

Nearly no one liked his - or most anyone's - tattoos. If not for the puritanical accusations of sulllying one's body, excessive tattoos could signal membership in various gangs or other unsavory groups. In fact, there were certain hot springs and bath houses which did not permit Hisha entry due to his aesthetic choices. And yet this woman seemed intrigued and unafraid. For a fleeting moment he stood, stunned while she spoke, and he could nearly pass out from the shock of the whole thing. However, her question, once it sank in, jarred him; he loved, when asked, to show off his collection and the impulse overrode his shock.

"Oh you like tattoos? Yeah I have a bunch!" As he spoke, he pointed and twisted his right leg, both flexing the calf muscles and displaying the wood-block style imitation of a large wave, reminiscent of The Great Wave of Kanagawa which encircled the majority of his leg. He moved with a certain practiced grace, working so as to not pull his arm away from the woman if she wished to keep following the trails of ink with her finger. "This one is a favorite of mine. It's Tebori style so there's actually a lot of different, subtle colors and shadings in there if you look closely. Do you have any?"

Sayuri kept her fingers tracing the elaborate designs that covered the man’s skin, enjoying the reaction she was causing. She was insanely interested in just how many more reactions she could get out of him, but she needed more time. . . and something other than an alley.

As he showed off more of the artwork she would crouch down and trace the lines of the wave on his leg, lingering with her touch as she would rise anew and drag her fingers up from his calf along his body and back to his face. Placing an icy cold palm there she would lean in as she answered his question. “No I do not. Though they intrigue me and perhaps you could. . . assist. Seek me out in Kirigakure and perhaps you could allow me a more thorough examination of your. . . art.” She would then lean closely in to whisper directly into his ear, her cool breath the only thing separating her lips from his ear. “I am Sayuri, I will be expecting you.”

And then she would attempt to place a single gentle kiss on the man’s cheek before swirling away in a cloud of diaphanous white ice and snow, back into the festival.

[Exit Thread]