The Morning After
Kim was dying of curiosity as to what happened next and she and Jim came up with this. Too funny!
The Morning After. . .
Alexi awoke with the sound of the crew returning to the boat. The tramp of heavy feet made him lift his head from the eiderdown pillows, and turn over. He threw his arm out to rest on the derriere of the woman who had shared his bed, but landed only on comforter. He sat up, still groggy, and looked around. "Josephine? Little bird?" he called, to no response. The door opened to Ilga and Svetlana coming into the room, all military precision with no hint of the snooping curiousity they had come to indulge.
One of Ilga's perfect eyebrows raised elegantly, but she simply stated, "We have been sent to take your breakfast order, Exaulted One." In almost perfect unison, the women bowed curtly from the waist and then waited for orders. Svetlana's cornflower blue eyes twinkled. Unlike Ilga, her eyes could betray her; the other woman's were deep and blue, unreadable and calm like still water.
Alexi looked around, non-plussed. "Where is the English girl? Is she already breakfasting?" He rose from the bed, demurely pulling the robe around himself to avoid more then a brief flash of nudity. "I take it you were watching from the other boat?"
Svetlana glanced at her sister in arms. "No, Wondrous of the World," she purred. After a moment, she shrugged. "Da, maybe a little."
"But only in protection of you," Ilga added. She tilted her head gently. "She left earlier." An artful pause. "Did you throw her out, Golden Son of the Dawn?" Glancing at Svetlana, her mouth only twitched lightly before she gave Alexi her whole obedient attention.
Alexi squared his shoulders, preparing for the worst. "So, then you already know all there is to ask, and we can all spare ourselves the 'Wondrous gift of God' and "Majestic gift to womankind' business, da?" He turned, tossing his head back to let his hair fall into a messy tangle on his head. "A pleasant evening, and then an early morning. Business as usual, move along, nothing to chat about here." His downcast eyes and dejected expression gave ample evidence of his knowledge he would not get off so easily.
Both women relaxed into at ease positions and Ilga asked gently, "Would you like for us to send in your manservant to help you bathe and dress, Alexi?" Svetlana nodded with agreement, pursing her full, sensuous lips.
"Maybe something special for breakfast," Svetlana added, her fondness for her employer finally showing fully on her face. "I will tell Cook. Or maybe massage before bath, Alexi?"
"I will have a quick bath, no assistance. Have the man come in to lay out work clothes, however," he said. He smiled, feeling his sterness had called a halt to any untoforward questioning.
From outside, the assembled crew broke into a rousing rendition of a satirical song, to the tune of the Russian Anthem.
Last night, I met a man!
That man, he had a dog!
Walking, walking, walking
Together we're walking
He looked so very tired
I let that man ride... ME!
Alexi's eyes narrowed, and he pulled the robe more tightly around himself. "Care to send the crew down below decks? I shall dine with officers only, and they may spread the gossip among the commons at their leisure!" he said huffily.
Svetlana's eyes had widened. It would have made her rather becoming face more becoming except that she bit her bottom lip hard as the crew sang and gave a strangled moan as she tried not to laugh. Ilga stared daggers at her until her companion regained control of herself. Embarrassed, Svetlana cast her gaze down to the shining black of her boot toes and tried to look chastised.
Inhaling deeply with dignified control, Ilga turned her cool gaze to her employer and stated, "Da. We will send in Pietr and gather the officers. Come Svetlana." Both women turned crisp on heel and departed the room.
Some time later, Alexi emerged from the tub, and dressed in the simple homespun shirt and rough pants. He wore simple sailor's boots and a woolen cap. He emerged from his stateroom onto the deck, and approached the table with the soft boiled eggs and black bread laid out for him like a duelist approaching the field of honor. The two hussars, the Second, and the Engineer were seated around the table, all staring blankly at him as he walked the green mile of some eighty feet to reach the breakfast which encompassed his fate. "Morning, I take it you all slept well while on shore leave?"
Various tones of modulated assents filled the air for a moment and then there was silence. Finally, the head Engineer broke the awkward silence. "I would have loaned you clothes this morning Alexi," he stated, his voice carefully neutral as his eyes twinkled. "You need not have borrowed your ladylove's clothes."
Alexi flopped into his chair, and sighed. "She wore an Irish sweater and American denim," he said. "No spurs, although after the brace of throwing knifes flattening her bosom, I was just relieved not to find a lady's comforter protruding between the trouser buttons." Alexi spoke slowly and in a flat monotone, but he couldn't resist forever. He gave into the silliness of the situation. "When we went downstairs, I just prayed to the Virgin that I could keep candlesticks out of her arm's reach and my back door." He laughed at himself along with the senior crew as they finally dissolved into helpless mirth.
Svetlana wiped her eyes as her laughter faded to giggles. "Oh, Alexi, but what dead Irishman did she steal that sweater from? And surely, the little catgirl would have had less weapons." She paused to finish her giggles and then, shaking her golden blond head, "I must ask: why the hat darling? What in heaven's name was under the hat?"
Their companions nodded, just as interested as they finished their mirth and started on breakfast. Her questions made the Second bark a laugh as he tried to drink his coffee, nearly sloshing it on himself.
"Alexi," he purred in a deep voice rich like the black coffee in his cup. "So was there a bosom underneath that brace of knives? After a such a bulwark of steel, one would want to find such mountains of softness as a reward for the danger."
Ilga snorted as the others nodded. "She seemed to have a bit of femininity before. Maybe this is an Englisher way of seduction?" Her serene face finally broke into agrin. "Did she have breasts, Alexi?" came her muted question as she covered her mouth with her hands, embarrassed at her own temerity.
Alexi closed his eyes, his head tilted to the left. "She did have breasts, under all the steel. Bosoms like a dancing girl; high, and so firm for one of her age. She did have hips, like a curve of marble on an Elgin statue," he said, sighing softly. "On the outside, the clothes made her rough and callous, like a fisherman. Under that, she was soft, and gentle, and scared like a kitten, and rounded like a Parisian courtesan." He opened his eyes, and shrugged. "Inside, though... she was a killer, who saved a bullet in her estimation by subverting me instead of shooting me. C'est le vie. She could not love me for my looks, my money, my immensity... So she classically laid back and thought of England!"
The hussars, dismissive as only beautiful women could be, blinked at him as if not understanding his admiration, their lips parted softly. Ilga nodded, looking chastised and Svetlana barely hid a tiny frown. "It is wonderful," she managed politely. "I'm glad that you found the girl inside the armor."
The engineer roared abruptly, raising his glass. "To the English and their land, where men are delicate like women and women are like our matryoshka dolls. To Alexi! For taming the tiger and riding it too!"
Alexi raised his glass, and tapped it against the large stein held by the engineer. "To England! If she doesn't give us all we wish, may she also lay back and allow us to enjoy the ride!"
You are reading an RP entry. Since any campaign is a collaborative effort, Journal and RP entries by our other players can be read here.
Return to The Dark Corners of the Earth
