airshipswank: (my love | (nicked it all from athos))
George Villiers, 1st Duke of Buckingham ([personal profile] airshipswank) wrote in [community profile] entrancelogs2013-06-16 02:12 am

[OPEN] Striptease for me, baby~

Who: Lord Buckingham ([personal profile] airshipswank), a yellow-eyed pervert who looks suspiciously like him & [OPEN]
Where: The dining hall, Buckingham's private stable, the music room & the mansion's corridors between his room [001 on the 10th floor] and those places
When: June 14th - 17th
Rating: R and counting for sexual themes
Summary: ♫ All the ways you never ever had
I want, I want you bad ♫

The Story: Buckingham turns slowly in his bed and feels the first rays of sunlight on his face. Electricity is a marvelous thing, but it keeps him up longer than candles often could. He rarely needs to make up for the long hours in the morning, but he'll allow himself a few more minutes with his eyes closed, before he starts the day.

Simple pleasures rarely capture his attention, but there is something to be cherished about soft sheets and their smell, about the warmth of a summer morning caressing his skin, the light and gentle breath at the back of his neck, and lithe fingers running playfully along his thigh, pulling up his gown and reaching eagerly for his-- what?!?!

The duke jumps up as if stung, spins and reaches for the knife by his bedside, looking back and staring-- staring frozen with clenched teeth and an incredulous frown at the creature in his bed, at the yellow eyes that watch him with half-lidded curiosity, at hands that make no motion to attack or pursue him; that indeed do not do much of anything but stroke the exposed bed sheet lazily while the thing-- while the thing that resembles him more than his mirror ever did, while- while it stretches with a yawn and finally speaks in a sulky voice:

"Does that... mean you'll not come back to bed?"
selfrespecting: (floored)

[personal profile] selfrespecting 2013-07-14 07:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Entertaining thoughts about others in the privacy of one's own mind and actually voicing them are two different things, as far as Martha's concerned. She can't police what someone thinks about her or her physical appearance, and she's received enough once-overs in her life to know that it's something that's bound to happen from time to time.

Hearing it, though, and said so crudely -- that's a different story. Martha slaps her hand over her mouth and stares at Buckingham's mirror in abject horror. There are certain things you're simply not supposed to say.

Her shadow, meanwhile, only laughs at her, tickled by the prudishness.

It's Buckingham's offer from the horse that drags her out of her shock, and Martha turns toward him, taking his hand and then hefting herself up onto the horse behind him. It's an awkward position to be in, the physical closeness more or less the last thing she needs at this point after hearing that, but she doesn't see any better option.

After a brief pause, Martha wraps her arms around Buckingham's waist and then nods. "Yes, let's."

"Don't let him sweep you off your feet too much there, Martha Jones," her shadows warns with a playful smile. "Last time all it took was a kiss, yeah?"
selfrespecting: (unsure)

[personal profile] selfrespecting 2013-07-23 07:43 pm (UTC)(link)
No rewards are going to be claimed, as far as Martha's concerned, but she doubts that needs to be made clear. Buckingham seems equally frustrated with his shadow, considering the way that he takes off as soon as she's settled on the horse; she's forced to hold tight as he gallops along, not stopping until they've made it all the way down to the ocean.

Horsebacking riding by the beach -- it's got cliché written all over it, but this couldn't even approach romantic, considering the circumstances. Even though Martha's arms are wrapped tight around his waist and her chest is pressed up against his back, her mind is more focused on what was said back there and how mortifying it all was.

Still, they'd managed a dashing escape, so that's something. As the horse falls into a trot and Martha is no longer fighting to move with its galloping, she relaxes slightly, loosening her hold. She laughs at his question. "I hope not." It does bring up something else she'd wanted to ask before the shadows interrupted, but first things first...

Maybe she shouldn't question him on it. It's not fair, when it's his shadow who mentioned it, but she can't quite resist, especially with the mention of some sort of leg injury. She hadn't noticed him limping during their walk before. "What's Salcey?" Or who, for that matter?
selfrespecting: (oh please)

[personal profile] selfrespecting 2013-07-24 08:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Martha is fine with staying on the horse for now. She may not know how to ride one herself, but she seems to be doing well enough as the passenger. She's got the leg strength to adjust to the horse's movements as it trots along, and while she suspects she'll be sore tomorrow because of this, simply due to not being used to it, it's a small price to pay.

The lack of eye contact is an added bonus.

Salcey Forest, right. Martha's never been there, and she doesn't think there's all that much to see there, but it must have been a popular spot for men to go hunting back during Buckingham's time. Hunting for sport is the sort of thing that leaves a bad taste in her mouth, but there's no denying that nobles at that time were expected to do it.

The way he speaks about the injury, as if it's something that happened to someone else rather than to him, is enough to make Martha smile to herself. Such pride, and for what? It doesn't seem to matter much when she can see right through it.

(Though if she knew the whole story, she would definitely be judging. Definitely. Positively. Absolutely. And likely laughing as well.)

But curiosity may as well be Martha's middle name, and so a follow-up question is posed almost instantly. "What was it? Did you get thrown from the horse? Too enthusiastic about shooting some poor deer?" The barbed comment is something she can't quite help.
selfrespecting: (cooler than you)

[personal profile] selfrespecting 2013-08-19 04:21 pm (UTC)(link)
So a snake was to blame? Fair enough, she supposes. It's not as if Martha thinks he deserved it, necessarily. That would hardly be fitting of her considering she's a doctor. But the fact that he'd been trying to slaughter animals and had then been injured as a result of one does have a certain poeticness to it.

"Not exactly," Martha says in response to his question. "I am a doctor, after all. It's difficult for me to approve of any unnecessary death." She can only hope that they'd at least been eating the animals after shooting them. That makes it far easier for her to swallow.

They've reached the forest itself by now, and Martha can't help the urge to glance down around the brush in search of any animals.

"Let's hope that no snakes hiding around here." It's a tease. She knows there aren't any snakes, she's been in the forest enough times to realize that all of the animals there are more or less harmless. Still, the fact that she's still on the horse after hearing his story does show that she's allotting him a certain amount of trust.

Maybe if they spend a bit more time in here and then circle back to the mansion, they can avoid their shadows.
selfrespecting: (looking away)

[personal profile] selfrespecting 2013-08-25 06:47 am (UTC)(link)
When Ascalon suddenly decides to get fussy, Martha has to tighten her grip on Buckingham for the split second it takes him to get control over the animal. It seems that even a horse can sense that the forest is not a place that should be explored too thoroughly. Martha shoots a glance down through the winding trees before focusing on Buckingham's words.

She can't blame him for being sick of the events, especially when she considers the fact that he's been enduring them for much longer than she has. Still, they've managed to make the best of it, and there's no sign of those shadows, so she's going to call it a win for now.

When her profession is brought up, Martha blinks, as it's true that she'd never told him. She's honestly surprised that Buckingham had even paid that much attention. All attempts at chivalry and polite manner aside, he does strike her as a bit self-absorbed.

"It... has, yes." She knows what he's getting at, of course, but he's not being nearly as tactless about it as America was, thankfully. "Women doctors are perfectly common in my time period. A woman can do just about any job, in fact." Which may be hard for him to grasp, but there it is.