Zincell froze. Having assumed the worst, she turned her head to look at herself. She was fully clothed, so it wasn't as though anything unsavoury had happened, and she didn't remember anyone getting into bed with her. Turning slightly to her back she saw a face that made her blood run cold.
It was Desaree.
Desaree was cuddling next to her. With no clothing on her torso.
Her cheeks blushed again, her headache intensified slightly, and her ears turned red. Why was she there? Desaree nuzzled Zincell's neck and it suddenly didn't matter, she just needed to leave the bed as soon as possible. Hopefully without disturbing her sleep. Filling steel to make sure to make no sudden movements, she began what became some of the longest few minutes in her life as she slowly worked her way out of Desaree's grasp. Her ocassional moans and pelvis grinding made her tense, but after several minutes of subtly moving out, she managed to free herself. Once she was completely out from under Desaree, Zincell realized yet another detail about her current situation.
She was facing the wall. Which meant that she had to go over Desaree's body to leave the bed. Swallowing slowly, Zincell lowered the rate at which she was filling steel exponentially instead of stopping suddenly, and began filling iron-- gradually heightening the rate at which she filled. After she was sure it wouldn't jolt her awake, Zincell jumped over Desaree. Her landing was soft enough that she didn't hear it, though she was filling tin for hearing still, so she wasn't sure how soft that made it. Thankfully, Desaree slept through the whole ordeal.
Once out of the bed, Zincell took off the revealing shirt she'd been lent the previous night, and moved to her case to find another one. She opened her case and frowned. Her robes looked different than how she'd left them last. The untrained eye wouldn't have noticed it--heck, Zincell almost missed it herself, but there it was. The folds were off. Zincell had spent the first fourteen years of her life being taught proper folding and tea-brewing and organizing, among other things. Sometimes receiving harsh scoldings when her job wasn't done properly, or even beatings. Any time a coin wouldn't bounce off of her bed, it would be undone violently for her to re-do properly. Any time robes were folded wrong--so slightly wrong it was only noticeable if you had a ruler in your hand with which to check-- they would be thrown on the ground and she'd have to re-fold them.
She always folded everything right, if only subconsciously, because of this. And those folds were off. She lifted the first two layers of robe and looked at her metalminds. They were intact, as were her coins, so there had been no thief. Why would someone go through her things without stealing anything? Her notebook was also there and unmoved. Maybe no one had gone through her things. She'd let her case fall off her bed carelessly the previous night, maybe the folds had moved then? Yes, that had to be it, she was just being paranoid.
She took out a large-ish man's shirt and put it on. It had long sleeves--she didn't want to risk any more people learning of her metalminds than necessary, and opened the door. There was another shirt there, as well as new sheets for her bed, and she moved them to the table before heading downstairs.
Once downstairs, she sat by the bar among a medium-to-large crowd and said "Hi" to Heft. They exchanged pleasantries and when he asked how her night had been she cringed slightly.
"I slept pretty soundly... but I woke up with Desaree hugging me. Would you know why she was there?" She asked as he handed her a bowl of sweetened porridge.
Heft raised an eyebrow at her. "Maybe she fell asleep while trying to give you another try?"
He smiled at her, the kind of smile that implied he knew more than he was telling, and Zincell's eyes centred on her porridge as she began to eat while her cheeks reddened again. A few minutes later, after a small groan she'd let out, Heft offered her something for the hangover, which she declined. It would pass on its own anyway.
After a short while he asked her how much she remembered of the rules for her stay, which thankfully she remembered perfectly. Guests are allowed, but are not to be shown any of the contraptions, nor the private space below. No pets allowed, even if only for a visit. Sheets should be kept in decent condition. A washerwoman would come by in the mornings, bed should be stripped by mid morning to have the sheets washed, and a replacement set could be found at her room's door the following dawn. Floors should stay clean, wood should stay unscathed, and if anything were to break she should tell him or Jonesi about it. They were all very simple. He shrugged and nodded, everything should be fine then.
A few minutes later she had thanked Heft for his food, left the bar (which was growing noisier by the hour) and got to the shop. Zincell wasn't sure which way she was supposed enter the shop, so she came in the front door looking as inconspicuous as possible, and began looking for Jonesi to talk about that job he'd mentioned the night before.
Edited by KChan, 17 January 2014 - 03:51 AM.