LeChatNoir's Maison de Maître

[LeChatNoir]

Bienvenue, mes amis, à ma maison de maître.

Le Chat Noir’s home is a large-ish two-story stone house built in the Second Empire style. The building itself is constructed mostly of light tan stone with a dark blue slate roof, and it stands next to the banks of a quiet, slow-moving canal overhung with tall trees.

Inside, the home is furnished simply, with far more modern fixtures than the outside would indicate. The kitchen in particular is ultra-modern, with stainless steel appliances, marble counters, and dark wood cabinets. The owner obviously loves to cook, given the amount of space dedicated to the room and the large number of pots and pans hanging from the large rack near the six-burner gas stove.

The grounds serve a dual purpose. In front, facing the canal, they are given over to quiet contemplation. Nooks for reading; shaded tables and chairs for a late dinner or breakfast en plein air; and stretches of soft, green grass suitable for stretching out on are abundant. In the rear of the building are much more formal gardens, done in the French style.

 

[LeChatNoir]

Reserved

This post is reserved for future RP ideas.

 

[LeChatNoir]

Reserved

This post is also reserved, though I'm not quite sure yet for what.

I'll think of something.

 

[IvoryTigress]

The Tigress wonders down that stretch of trees, head tilting as she studies the area. All lazy grace, a house warming present tucked under her arm, she makes it up to the doorstep. She doesn't knock. She just lets the soccer ball fall out from under her arm to the door step. Her foot quickly catches it and holds the ball until its steady and unmoving on the stoop. She reaches in her pocket and sets a small figurine of a white tiger beside it. A slight smirk touches her lips and she jumps down the stairs one by one and decides a nice jog down that path would suit her. The lean, lithe figure fades into the afternoon light.

 

[LeChatNoir]

The denizen of the house walks out the door in a pair of weathered blue jeans and a red Boba Fett t-shirt, having heard some sort of sound. He glances down at the stoop, sees the black and white orb and the little white tiger, and grins. A quick look down the path and the fleeting glimpse of a lithe, running form and a bouncing pony tail confirm his suspicions.

The man picks up the tiger first, turning it over in his hands, feeling the texture of the small statuette with sensitive fingertips. Satisfied with the results of his examination, he flips the soccer ball up into the air with his adidas Samba-clad toe and catches it, then turns and walks back inside. The figurine finds a home on a black bookshelf in the living room, among pieces of art glass and several old family heirlooms, including a couple of old straight razors. For some reason, it seems an appropriate home. The soccer ball goes into a holder on the mantle, next to a pair of framed match tickets.

 

[thestruggle]

A darting flash of a girl peeks around a trunk of one of the avenue's trees, assessing the gorgeous property before her. Apparently, the stillness of the house reassures her, for she flits from her hiding place up to the entrance--a gift encased in a black box with a white ribbon leaving her hands to rest expectantly on the table near the steps. A scroll tied to the package contains a message of welcome:

To a very bad man,

I hope you enjoy your new hideaway. Here is a little gift from someone who thinks that moving always necessitates a drink.

Sincerely,
A very good girl.

Pleased with her accomplishment, she tosses a wave of red hair over her shoulder and walks casually down the path, taking in the glorious surroundings as she does so. As she nears the end of the stretch of trees, she pulls a leaf from a branch and twirls it idly in her fingertips. A souvenir!

 

[LeChatNoir]

Again, the owner of the maison steps out, looking around as he thought that perhaps he heard small feet somewhere about. He happens to cast his eye over the small table to the left of his door, and notices a package that was not previously there. Thinking back for a moment to try to remember if he's annoyed any of his neighbors recently, he can't remember doing so, and so proceeds down the stairs to the raked gravel courtyard, confident that the package is probably not ticking.

He looks at it for a moment, judging its size, then smiles to himself as he plucks the scroll from the side and reads over it. "Oh, that girl. I'll bet this is..."

A moment's struggle and the ribbon gives way to strong hands. The box is opened, and the contents discovered. "Ha! A most thoughtful gift." He ascends the stairs, passes through the front door, and turns right, into the drawing room. A quick stride takes him to his sideboard, and he places the bottle in a position of prominence, as its contents deserve.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

The sun is magnificent, shining down through the trees and warming her skin, she's wearing a red wrap and a simple pretty black dress, he likes things simple, pretty, efficient and any other time she might have worn something with plenty of snaps and buttons, and straps to be undone and played with, something to annoy him with. She strolled up the lane, her feet in cute little ballet slippers that matched her dress, while her hair curled and flowed down over her shoulders.

In her hands was a pretty bottle, with a pretty red bow. She'd chosen a red, even though they weren't her favorites, and she'd gone with a Pinot Noir. Specific in her intent, she'd learned that Pinot Noir may be the toughest grape to grow, but the effort is often well worth the constant care and investment. The parallels between the red in her hands and the redhead herself would not be lost on this patient man.

So it was that she finally reached out and knocked on the door, and smiled sweetly, if a little nervously for him. Bringing a housewarming gift.

The question was then, which red was the gift?

 

[LeChatNoir]

The maison's maître sat quietly on his leather sofa, idly paging through a copy of this week's Economist. He didn't always, or often, agree with their editorial slant, but the one thing he could not deny is that he always felt better-educated after reading it than he did before he'd read it. Hearing a knock at his door, he arose from the couch and walked over, turning the large, centrally-set knob and opening the door.

He was dressed a bit differently than before. A gray suit of soft, worsted wool, cut in a classic style, not the ultra-modern "skinny" look - the man wearing it was too broad through the chest and thighs for that. Instead, the simple, single-breasted two-button jacket was tailored with a double vent and combined with a crisp shirt of the palest ivory.

Seeing the guest standing before his door, a smile creased the right corner of the owner's mouth. "Good evening, Miss V. Welcome to my new home." The man stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter his abode. "Please, do come in. You look quite ravishing this evening."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

She might have melted just a little when he opened the door. Might have, but she didn't show him that. To do so would be stepping right into that easily laid net. Too easy. Too soon.

"Good evening, Miss V. Welcome to my new home. Please, do come in. You look quite ravishing this evening."

A smile crossed her face as she stepped in and looked around quickly, appraising him and the space. Modern, elegantly furnished, masculine and very much like the man who stood before her.

"Thank you! Your new space! It's beautiful, Dr. N. I brought you this." She held out the bottle, but before he could take it from her she swept off through the house, searching for the kitchen, and finding it finding it easily.

"Now, this is wonderful, Dr. You never fail to amaze me. Now.. it's you, so wine glasses are..." She looked around the room and zeroed in on an easily accessible cabinet, centrally located, and walked over and opened it, "Here."

She reached in and pulled out two glasses, before turning to face him, trying not to laugh at the bemused expression on his face.

"Care for some wine?"

 

[LeChatNoir]

She reached in and pulled out two glasses, before turning to face him, trying not to laugh at the bemused expression on his face.

"Care for some wine?"

Well, she certainly had his kitchen layout, and his resulting expression, pegged. The man laughed, running one hand through his short, dark hair. "Very impressive, V. You clearly have kitchen ESP, though I seem to recall you saying somewhere that you'd burned water." He stepped towards her, patted her on the hip, and said, "Slide over a bit, the corkscrew is behind you."

As she moved down, he opened a drawer and selected his weapon - a classic waiter's-style corkscrew made from what appeared to be sterling silver and some dark wood, with a silver inlay of a stag. He showed it to V, then shrugged eloquently. "It was a gift. Works well, even it it is a little...odd."

Deftly manipulating the corkscrew with an ease born of long practice, he opened the Pinot with minimal effort and poured the ruby liquid into the two glasses V had so amusingly easily located in his kitchen. Eschewing the whole cork-sniffing ritual, which was largely useless anyway, he raised his glass. "To new endeavors."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

His laughter rang through the kitchen, and she scooted over to make room for him. She smiled, watching him find the interesting corkscrew and work the bottle open, and pouring them both a glass. Raising his glass towards her with that slightly distracting smile of his.

"To new endeavors."

She raised her own and clinked his glass lightly, echoing his sentiment before she placed the glass to her lips and sipped lightly. Tart. Full. Rich and warm slipped and slid all over her tongue. She sighed happily and looked up to meet his eyes.

A blush. Probably as deep a red as her hair. She ignored it. And the look in his eyes, like he knew something.

"So! You should give me the grand tour!" She gestured to the house around them a little too largely with the arm that held her wine and the liquid sloshed out of the glass and over the counter messily.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" She grabbed one of the towels in the kitchen and quickly wiped up the mess, "Perhaps the tour without the wine." She nodded softly, then looked up at him. In that suit. That look in his eyes. She tilted her head at him and then downed the rest of the small glass of wine, before setting down the empty glass and grinning.

"Now I can take you.. I mean the tour."

 

[LeChatNoir]

Dark eyes noted the blush, which seemed to reach all the way to the roots of her hair, then tracked the wineglass as her exuberant gesture first threatened to, and then did, slosh a bit of the contents out onto his countertop. A grin, a shake of the head, and a rueful chuckle. "Don't worry too much about that. It's hardly the first wine that's been spilled around here, and I'm quite certain that it won't be the last. That's one of the problems with wine - the more you enjoy it, the harder and harder it is to keep it in your glass."

The mess taken care of, he gestured for her to head out of the kitchen. As she passed him, he placed one hand on her shoulder, using it to steer her from destination to destination with gentle pressure in one direction or another. The tour hit the high points, including the dining room, the drawing room with its leather-upholstered sofa and exquisite sound system, and the formal back garden - raked gravel paths, precisely-trimmed hedges, and a small pond complete with fountain and fish. Somewhat unusually, the garden also featured a large, eight foot-high post driven into the ground, surrounded by a circle of flat earth.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

The house was well appointed and meticulously kept, and she had expected nothing less of this man. She might have thrilled just a little at his touch on her shoulder, but it was perfunctory at best and quickly grew used to him turning and guiding her to where they were headed. That she followed his lead for the moment, most likely did not go unnoticed by either of them, though their conversation tended towards the mundane and soft little trills of giggles as she ooh'd and ahh'd appropriately.

That was until they made it to the garden, and she spied the rather large post. It was possible that she hoped that it was a tetherball post and they were about to indulge in one of her favorite games from her childhood, but she had been a member of the community for far too long not to recognize certain hard points on the pole, and for her to recognize that he would have plans.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched his countenance change slightly from one of mostly pride at his house to one a little more, well, feral would be the wrong word, but the look appropriate.

Her mind went a little wild, while outwardly was calm as he lead her nearer still to the post.

Ropes or chains? She eyed him again. Chains. Something about the cold metal and warm skin. Though she would bet he'd prefer neither.

Weapon of choice? She paused and tried to listen to his words as he talked about some plant or other that dotted the landscape, nodding blankly. Hands. Though for some reason she could easily place a whip or paddle in his hands as well.

Breathe, nod and smile, Vi.

Up until this point they had both ignored the rather large post, and it seemed that he might wait for her to point it out to him. Forever.

Patient bastard.

"Alright! I'll bite. What in bloody hell is that?" She pointed at the post, continuing a little exasperatedly, "And what are you going to do with it?!"

 

[LeChatNoir]

He honestly enjoyed playing the role of the gracious host. He had been taught from an early age the value of showing proper hospitality to one’s guests, and had taken the lesson truly to heart. Additionally, he was very fond of his new home, and was genuinely pleased to have an appreciative guest.

The pair passed, laughing and joking lightly, through the house and into the garden that never failed to remind him of happy times spent exploring various estates and chateaux throughout France. During the tour, his hand never moved from its position on her shoulder. A small shiver seemed to go through her at one point, and he glanced in her direction, only notice her looking at the post.

The post.

He could almost hear the wheels turning in her mind as she regarded it. He, of course, didn’t know exactly what she was thinking, but the general direction of her thoughts was not difficult to imagine.

"Alright! I'll bite. What in bloody hell is that?" She pointed at the post, continuing a little exasperatedly, "And what are you going to do with it?!"

A quick smile, and a quizzical tilt of his head. “What is it? What does it look like? It’s a whipping post, V.” The smile broadened into a grin as he added, “I would have expected you to suss that out on your own.”

At the second question, he threw back his head and laughed outright before turning to face the woman. “What am I going to do with it? I thought maybe I’d wrap brightly-colored garlands around it for May Day. The rest of the time, probably things that are a lot less,” he paused, “festive.”

 

[Miss_Vivi]

The glance to her and then the post was full of mirth.

“What is it? What does it look like? It’s a whipping post, V. I would have expected you to suss that out on your own.”

His grin had widened during his answer, and she didn't bother to stop him to say she knew exactly what it was, she had wanted to hear it from him.

“What am I going to do with it? I thought maybe I’d wrap brightly-colored garlands around it for May Day. The rest of the time, probably things that are a lot less...festive.”

General answer. Always technically correct, but not the point she wanted. Forever the lawyer, he'd side step the questions, just giving enough of an answer that she might look foolish for pushing for more.

Like that'd stop her.
Shamelessly she stepped towards it and touched the wood, sliding her fingers over it.

"It's nice. Out here in the open. Under the sun, magnificent setting." She smiled and then turned back towards him, "the problem is, darling you don't have anyone to whip."

Brushing past him, she grinned as she walked back towards the house, glancing over her shoulder, at him standing there.

"Are you coming?"

 

[LeChatNoir]

Her hands slid across the polished oak of the post, seeming almost to caress it. The wood was warm to the touch, heated by the sun’s rays to a temperature very close to body heat. Watching her stroke her hands over the wood, he felt a tension start building somewhere deep inside his core.


"It's nice. Out here in the open. Under the sun, magnificent setting." She smiled and then turned back towards him, "the problem is, darling you don't have anyone to whip."

Brushing past him, she grinned as she walked back towards the house, glancing over her shoulder, at him standing there.

"Are you coming?"


The man nodded. “I like having it outside. There’s something similar in the cellar, of course, but there’s something about the natural setting….And my neighbors live a long way away.”

That smile - dazzling and maddening, both at the same time. And she knew it.

He raised one dark eyebrow as she spoke, regarding her levelly with deep brown eyes, and leaned his broad frame against the bulk of the post. “Damn, you’re right. I seem to have forgotten that part. Hmm, someone to whip…Where could I find such a thing, especially on short notice?” His skilled hands flexed idly, almost unconsciously. “Oh, I know, I’ve got it! I’ll take advantage of my guests.”

“Am I coming?” He paused, sarcastic retort on his lips but not quite voiced yet. “No, I’m not. And neither are you going.”

 

[Miss_Vivi]

“I like having it outside. There’s something similar in the cellar, of course, but there’s something about the natural setting….And my neighbors live a long way away.”

She continued to walk away from him, trying to ignore the tone in his voice. That. tone. The one that slid down her spine and danced somewhere in her core, teasing her gently.

Best she keep moving. Even if they were smaller steps now.

“Damn, you’re right. I seem to have forgotten that part. Hmm, someone to whip…Where could I find such a thing, especially on short notice?”

She didn't even need to wait for it, her breath caught barely before the next words came out as casually as if he was talking about the weather and it had just dawned on him that wearing a coat might keep him warm.

“Oh, I know, I’ve got it! I’ll take advantage of my guests.”

There it was. Well, at least he'd come out with it and not toyed with her. Too much.

She paused in her movement, but didn't turn around.

“Am I coming? No, I’m not. And neither are you going.”

He wished. He'd have to drag her back here.

Vi didn't turn, she didn't look at him either, knowing that if she did, her forward movement would be stopped by a very bad man in a very nice suit.

"The sun is setting, monsieur. While the night will only be cool, you would not wish to hit what you cannot see." She paused, searching for the right words, "Nor what does not exist. Simply put, I am walking away."

Yeah. He'll buy that Vi.

It took every effort to take that first step, but she did. The second was easier and she took in a steadying breath while her legs carried away from the post.

 

[LeChatNoir]

The man’s dark gaze followed her as she started to take those first few, hesitant steps away from the post.

"The sun is setting, monsieur. While the night will only be cool, you would not wish to hit what you cannot see." She paused, searching for the right words, "Nor what does not exist. Simply put, I am walking away."

A long intake of breath, a quiet clearing of his throat, and then the deep voice that she knew, low and clipped and even – “Stop.”

“I know that I said you’re not leaving, V. Yet you look like you’re trying to leave. Why is that, I wonder?”

He pushed himself off the post with a languid gesture and slowly walked towards her, moving on the balls of his feet, his hands now hanging loosely at his sides. The master of the house stopped about six feet away from the fiery redhead and regarded her carefully, the squint making faint crow’s feet appear at the corners of his eyes before they disappeared into silvering temples.

“Maybe you’d like to reconsider that answer?”

 

[Miss_Vivi]

“Stop.”

And so it began. Vi wondered briefly how long this little tango would last.

“I know that I said you’re not leaving, V. Yet you look like you’re trying to leave. Why is that, I wonder?”

She didn't turn. She didn't look at him, though she paused ever so minutely in the middle of a step.

“Maybe you’d like to reconsider that answer?”

Vi knew. She knew that if she took another step, what might happen. She also knew that he was nearer to her now. Her teeth closed in on her bottom lip and worked there for a minute while she considered his offer.

It was her choice. It was always going to be her choice. Either she hand over that power or he would wait for her to do so, always with a smirk and a smile.

She sighed softly.

"No."

She took the next step and wondered if she'd ever learn.

 

[LeChatNoir]

She sighed softly.

"No."

A quiet exhalation of breath was audible from not far at all behind her. Had she been looking back, she would have seen a feral smile cross the man’s bearded face before he moved rapidly right up behind her, his left hand reaching out to grasp the back of her neck just above the high rear collar of her dress.

“You chose, V.”

His grip was tight and firm, and he drew her back far enough that he could see her face. His own was set in an expression that could have been called a smile if it had held more, or any, mirth, but was more accurately a baring of teeth.

“You get one last choice. Are you going to walk back, or am I going to drag you back?”

A steady pressure began to move her back towards the stake, which loomed solid and immobile in the early evening sky.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Just as suddenly as she had taken that first step, did she find herself stopped.

“You chose, V.”

Pulled roughly against the plane of his chest and her head pulled back so that she could see him out of the corner of her eye. She considered the look on his face, while it might make another woman melt, this only made her want to push back, to rain her no over his head and make him work for every single step.

“You get one last choice. Are you going to walk back, or am I going to drag you back?”

Choices. Fuck choices.

She gasped softly as she pulled against the hand in her hair and resolutely fought to step forward, the gasp turned into a soft whine, but she didn't stop. She gritted her teeth, "You haven't earned it."

At least not yet.

 

[LeChatNoir]

When next he spoke, very quietly, he had used his grip in her hair to bring his lips right down to V’s ear. His breath was warm as he whispered, and smelled faintly of coffee and mint.

“Dragged it is. So be it.”

The gray-clad man let go of her hair, stepped smoothly to the left, and came to a stop about 45 degrees behind her left shoulder. A quick grasp of her left arm, an odd movement or two, and he suddenly had her elbow resting against his chest, her wrist bent uncomfortably towards the ground. His own hands rested atop her left one, applying pressure to that captured wrist.

He stood still, looking at her, his eyes difficult to read, then shifted his feet around so that the two of them both faced the post.

“Now, V., you will move towards the post, and when you get to it, you will put your arms around it. You can fight if you want to, or not. But I’ll probably hurt you a little, either way.”

 

[Miss_Vivi]

“Dragged it is. So be it.”

She was quickly overtaken and her wrist moved and pinned. She gasped softly and looked up at him through her lashes. That determined don't-fuck-with-me-right-now look on his face.

“Now, V., you will move towards the post, and when you get to it, you will put your arms around it. You can fight if you want to, or not. But I’ll probably hurt you a little, either way.”

breathe, Vi.

She pulled a little against his grip testing it, and whined softly at the pain inflicted so easily from the pressure.

Breathe

The pain melted and when he took that first step so did she. She didn't fight or struggle with him. She almost placidly let him lead them both back to the post. Though he squeezed her wrists gently, in regular cadence as if to remind her who was in charge.

She said nothing and gave him nothing. No sounds.

Breathe, through any pain.

Once at the post, he turned enough and freed her hands as if to see if she'd do as she'd been instructed. After rubbing her wrist for a second, she did, placing her arms around the post and watching him.

Vi had been the picture perfect girl for several minutes. It was wearing. Which is why her next words, weren't much of a surprise.

"Go to hell, Sir."

Breathe
That felt good.

 

[LeChatNoir]

The way she used her eyelashes was like the way a musketeer used his rapier. A sword and a shield at the same time, weapon and cover. He had to admit, it was very fetching.

It was not, however, enough to weaken his resolve. He led her back to the post, somewhat surprised by her lack of resistance, but determined to make use of it while it lasted, which it surely wouldn't. He was impressed, though - she could be good when she wanted to, or when it suited her. The question was, how long could she maintain it.

His question was soon answered as she wrapped her arms, as instructed, around the solid wood of the post.

"Go to hell, Sir."

He watched her breathe for a couple of moments before responding.

"I'm sure I will, girl. If there's any sort of afterlife at all, then I'm comfortable with my destination."

He stepped behind her and pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the post, his lips moving to just behind her ear.

"And how about you? Will I see you there, too?"