Are there any musicians here? It has been too long since I was able to enjoy a performance. I would like to hear a song from your world. If you will indulge me, I will share one from mine.
[If any of those musicians (or anyone else) happens to be around house #47, they might hear some quiet flute music from that house's porch. Sigmund is mostly just playing for himself, but if anyone stopped by to listen, he'd play louder for them. He's in an unusually good mood, barely even a hint of his usual morbidity or ill humor. What could possibly be causing that?]
(OOC: Sigmund's AU needs no linked explanation. He did not disappear in a blaze of idiotic glory. That's really all you need to know.)
[If any of those musicians (or anyone else) happens to be around house #47, they might hear some quiet flute music from that house's porch. Sigmund is mostly just playing for himself, but if anyone stopped by to listen, he'd play louder for them. He's in an unusually good mood, barely even a hint of his usual morbidity or ill humor. What could possibly be causing that?]
(OOC: Sigmund's AU needs no linked explanation. He did not disappear in a blaze of idiotic glory. That's really all you need to know.)
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chasethestars
chasethestars
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There. He's good, he got rid of them for her. Now why is that dress still half on? Unfair.]
He watches her expectantly for a few moments before realizing... no. Oh, come on. Woman, why you do this to him? Well, no matter. First, one must remain calm and assess the situation. Maybe if he flips them over...
And that's exactly what he's going to try to do.]
But for the moment, at least, Sigmund is too busy nuzzling into the hair behind her ear to do any such thing. To repay her for her aid in his dress-removing efforts, he trails a hand down her side.]
Satisfied now?
I think you're on the right track to do so, my lord.
My name. You can use it. [There's a voice to match the expression from earlier.]
But... I never call you...
[He doesn't really care either way. Whatever makes her comfortable. He's much more interested in getting comfortable, himself. He moves down so that he can lay his head on her chest and closes his eyes, tries to encourage her to run her fingers through his hair. She's so warm, all of her. He could fall asleep here... but later. Much later.]
Ponder, ponder. She'd never tried it before, but...]
...Sigmund...
[...Huh. She'd never imagined just using a name could feel so intimate.]
Yes?
[He is... content. Deeply so. She's giving him what he wants. The least he can do is offer the same.]
I... ah... my lord, I thought I was going to... [...What is she trying to say. DISTRACTION DISTRACTION- oh, right. -DISTRACTI- no no, she can say it-] ...to please you, my lord.
[Both of his hands are up by her head. Which means... brushing against her thigh? Not his hand.]
Always, my lord?
So he slides off of her (towards the center of the bed, isn't he smart) and settles himself down; then takes her hand to tug her toward him. C'mere.] That is your aim, is it not?
Of course... all of this would be for nothing if you aren't satisfied.