After a relatively brief (but very active) amount of time as a Lapi doe, Snowcora is being escorted back through the catacombs of Rephidim towards the Morgue by Jacoba the buck. Tulani was having too much fun with her Rhian, so it's only the two of them returning at the moment.

Jacoba has been smiling the whole way, having finally 'bagged a bunny' that he doesn't have to marry or raise children with. The other does in the 'harem' are all his sisters, Snowcora learns. Or at least that's what he claims. He also offers to carry her over the stickier parts of the journey.

Given that sticky feet or slippers is a bit gross, Snorcora readily agrees to be carried back. Sure, her personality is a bit more subdued when in this body ... but she's still not above using it to get what she wants. "And just to set your mind at ease one more time, I cannot get pregnant, so everything we did was safe," she reassures him when she's being carried in his arms.

"So we can do it again and again?" the man asks hopefully, as he continues to carry her, even over the dry spots. "I'm supposed to bring you right to Mordecai's place though."

"Yes, we could ... but there is always the question of time," Snowcora admits, "And I really should spend at least some time with the Eeee who ... decorated my body before I hate to leave the city. I wonder why his home over the club, though?"

"Maybe he just wants some private time with you," the buck suggests, as he carries Snowcora.. right up to Mordecai's door, then sets her on her feet.

Snowcora turns and takes the buck's cheeks, then kisses him while being pressed up against him for a few seconds. "Thank you, Jacoba. It has been ... fun," she tells him with a wink. The cloaked human then turns and knocks lightly on Mordecai's door.

"Come in, Snowcora," Mordecai answers from within. "Jacoba, you can return to the club now."

Nicora opens the door and slips inside, closing it behind her. Anticipating what he will ask, she sheads her cloak and slippers near the door and walks further into the strange Eeee's chambers completely nude, covered only by the Eeee's ink and metal-work.

Mordecai lights a few more candles to improve the lighting. He, of course, is naked, but has a belt around his hips with a long loop of string hung on an attached hook, and several pouches. "Can you remove your lock and chain please?" the Eeee asks, looking back over his shoulder at the girl.

Snowcora's brow arches a bit at that. An odd request from someone who usually just removes it! "As you wish," she says politely to him and even bows. while bent over, she dials in the code to the combination lock and slips the chain out of its grasp. A few careful tugs of the chitin chain loosens it, then slips it out of its gold ring anchors. To make sure she doesn't lose it, she drapes the chain around her neck then slips it back into the lock, converting it into a loose necklace.

Mordecai comes over after lighting more candles, and looks Snowcora up and down appraisingly. Then he uses the string to begin taking some measurements, requesting that Snowcora 'stand up straight and keep your eyes looking forward' while he works.

Snowcora stands straight, legs positioned about shoulder width apart and her chin level with the floor as she looks at a spot on the far wall. "What is he doing?" she wonders. He hasn't done anything too horrible yet, so she's not going to run ... but he sure knows how to make her nervous.

From where he's touching the ends of the measuring line, he's clearly not measuring her for a dress. He isn't taking any of the traditional measurements, although he does loop the string around ankles, neck, wrists and other major joints, along with the hips. He also measures distances between the various piercings (although he doesn't involve the tongue in that case. "I think that will be all I need," the bat notes, and pats Snowcora on the behind.

Snowcora takes a step forward, then looks over her shoulder. "Ah, what was that for?" she ask him and tries to smile and look calm. The memory of the tattooing is fresh in her mind, so she well knows he can surprise her with anything!

"It's a surprise," Mordecai claims. "A final bit of complementary decoration. But you need to go to the Salon now. Eezy and Nimue will be expecting you."

Snowcora blinks. "Back tot he salon? But what more could they possibly do to me?" she asks as she headsn back towards the door to collect her shoes and cloak. Now she's worried!

"Well, first you have to pay for Nicora's styling," Mordecai says. "After that, they will help make you up for later."

Snowcora's brow goes up at that, unsure how she will pay but bows. "As you wish," she tells him and heads to the door. she glances back at the odd Eeee with a worried look, before opening it and slipping through.

The Salon
Within the labyrinth of rooms that make up the goth-club knows as the Morgue is one that accommodates the work of one of its artists: the Stylist. It is brightly lit, and features a chair that looks like it was stolen from the Temple - adjustable for many different body types, and featuring built-in restraints for hands and legs and necks. There is a sink and counter covered with unmarked jars and bottles and chitin barbering tools.

"You must be Snowcora?" Nimue greets the cloaked woman when she arrives. "Your skin is so beautifully pale; I'm jealous!"

Snowcora dips her head. "I am indeed," she says. "Mordecai said I needed to see you on some matter?"

"Oh, well, I'm Nimue," the girl introduces herself, and steps aside to invite Snowcora in. "This is the Salon. Did Mordecai explain to you about the payment? He said you'd be handling it for Ezekial's work on Nicora earlier."

"He said I would be paying for it, but not how," Snowcora admits, sounding nervous. "What is ... the required payment?"

Snowcora steps into the salon and adds, "It is also a pleasure to meet you, Nimue."

Nimue points to a narrow door at the back of the Salon. "Well.. you were to spend some intimate time with my brother, in the bedroom," she explains a bit awkwardly. "Mordecai said that you cannot become pregnant, and.. well, my brother has never been with a human girl before.."

Snowcora bites her lip, then nods, feeling oddly relieved since some payments she thought of were worse than that! "I will see to your brother, then," she replies. She bows her head to Nimue and heads for the narrow door and the bedroom.

"Be.. ah.. gentle with him?" Nimue requests. The door is slightly ajar, when Snowcora gets right up to it.

"I can be very gentle," Snowcora promises as she takes hold of the handle. She opens it, then slips through and closes it behind herself.

There's actually a short, narrow hallway, with a few doors - but only the one at the end is open a crack and has light behind it.

Snowora saunters slowly down the hallway. She wishes she had her Eeee hearing right now to know what might be waiting for her. Instead she has to do what humans do and ask. So, she calls out, "Hello?" when she is close to the end.

"Come in," Eezy says from the room, and the light is blocked for a moment as he opens the door. He's still dressed as before; net shirt and leather pants and boots. He looks surprised to see Snowcora.

Snowcora slips through the doorway, her cloak still wrapped about herself. "I was told that I am to, ah, provide you intimate services as payment for work done to one of Mordecai's Eeee friends? she asks nervously. The situation strikes her as suspiciously feeling like a prostitute.

"Oh.. yeah.. I did agree to that.." the man says, and backs up to sit on the narrow bed. There are a lot of candles lit to provide a good amount of light. "I was told you had some interesting tattoos too though?"

"I was the canvas Mordecai used to model some tattoos and piercings on. I ... belong to him," Snowcora admits, feeling very embarrassed now. She can't bring herself to look at the human as she lets her cloak slide off and down to to the floor.

She hears the man nearly choke. "Oh, wow, he did all of that?" Eezy asks. "Could you.. uh.. turn around slowly so I can see it all?"

Snowcora's embarrassment is ... well, pretty intense. She turns around slowly for the human and even holds her arms out so that he can see all of it. "He had me restrained while he did the work," she admits.

"He did," Snowcora claims. "Since I belong to him, he can do as he chooses with me."

"Really? Did he.." Eezy starts to ask, then has to pause and think. "Did he make you pale like that, or.. are you just like that for some other reason?"

"I was born this way. I am a lot like him, which is why he chose me," Snowcora claims.

"Can I touch you?" Eezy asks, cautiously; as if Snowcora were made of some rare, extremely fragile breed of porcelain.

"That is what I am here for," Snowcora claims and approaches Eezy, standing a mere foot away from him now.

Tentatively, the man reaches out a few fingers and places the tips on Snowcora's stomach for a moment, before drawing them back. "Wow, you're even warm. I thought you'd be cold. I know a girl who uses arsenic to pale her skin, and she feels cold."

At that Snowcora smiles. "I was born this way, I am warm to the touch and not so fragile," she tells the human as she lifts her right hand and brushes it over his cheek. "See?"

Eezy blushes, difficult as it may be to see in the dim light. "Well, I appreciate you coming, but I won't.. ah.. insist on anything more. I don't know why I agreed.."

"Nothing at all? Are you sure?" Snowcora asks the human. "I don't mind," she adds as she sits on the bed beside the human. "If mayment was offered, it should be given."

"I will do anything you like," Snowcora offers. "As long as it is safe, of course."

Snowcora lightly wraps her arms around Eezy's neck and returns the kiss. "Just close your eyes and lay back," she tells him softly, "And I will give you something to remember."

Following directions is easy for Eezy, as he sheds his nervousness by just surrendering his will to Snowcora.

And the next hour or so passes with new lessons for Eezy. Snowcora takes her time; she undresses the human slowly; making sure to caress him as much as possible. Once he is 'properly' attired, her real payment begins ... and it is extensive. Her lessons from Mave, the kirin and others all play into what she does for the human. It's slow, controlling, and by the end, leaves the human practically feeling like he exploded. While he rests, Snowcora kisses his forehead, then collects her robe and leaves the human to recover...

Nimue is still in the Salon, reading a Goth Romance novel, with a vampiric human garishly rendered on the cover. "Oh, you're back! Are you ready for me to start now?" she asks.

Snowcora nods. "I was very gentle with him," the albino says, "And I'm now ready for what you are expected to do. What do you need me to do?"

"Just sit in the chair, so I can work on your hair," the human girl notes, and pats the seat.

Snowcora drapes the cloak on the chair to make it more comfortable, then settles back into the chair.

"Wow, that is a pretty tattoo," Nimue notes, now that the cloak is being used as a pad. She helps Snowcora get comfortable, and then begins brushing out her long hair to find any snags. "What do you usually wash your hair with?" she asks.

"What did Mordecai ask you to do to my hair?" Snowcora inquires. "Not that I can dispute his wishes since I belong to him, but I am curious." The question makes her think. "Nothing as nice as what I should, probably," the human admits. "Sometimes just water, other times a mild soap. I travel a lot and choices are limited," she answers.

"I'm going to add some herbal oils to shine it up a bit," Nimue explains, "then do it up in a fancy bun. Are you allergic to any flowers or plants?"

"Just relax then," Nimue says as she starts on washing and conditioning Snowcora's hair. "Have you been enjoying your time here?" she asks conversationally.

Snowcora relaxes into the chair and lets her eyes close. "Oh, quite a bit. I wish I could stay, but I am only in the city for a short time," she answers. "I feel comfortable here and I like the staff I have met."

"Have you met Hortense yet though?" Nimue asks with a chuckle, as she does her mysterious grooming magic behind Snowcora's back.

"She's invited me to her parlor, but I keep putting her off," Nimue notes, and Snowcora can feel her hair being braided now, from the way it is lightly tugged.

"You should go," Snowcora suggests. "I heard of a few things she did to a mare recently in her care through one of her lapis. It was ... interesting."

"I've heard scary stories," Nimue notes, and separates some strands at Snowcora's temples, which she rolls around little wooden cylinders. "I don't think I'd like being blindfolded and such. I wear a net shirt - I think that's bold enough for me."

"You might be surprised, but I won't push," Snowcora says. She's a curious mix of being relaxed and focusing on the feel of Nimue's work. "Did Mordecai also ask for me to wear make-up, or was it just my hair today?" she asks.

"There will be some makeup, yes," Nimue says. "Subtle shading.." Oil is applies to the curls, which drips a little on Snowcora's shoulders.

Snowcora reaches up and takes a bit of the oil onto her fingertips so she can look at it, then sniff it.

It's flowery, and mildly oily enough to roll between her fingertips before it fades.

"What is Mordecai wishing me to look like?" Snowcora asks Nimue. "He has told me nothing."

"I'm just to make you look more.. elegant," Nimue says, as she starts coiling the braids now into a bun.

"That could mean anything to them, Snowcora worries. Still everythign so far has been quite pelasant, so she can't complain.

Nim is silent for a few minutes, as she works on the hair. There are definitely other elements being added, though. "There, we let that set for a bit, while I do your makeup," the girl notes. "Have you worn makeup before?" she asks.

"No. I ave not had much reason to," Snowcora admits. "Few actually find me attractive," she admits, and resists the urge to feel her hair.

"Well, you in the right place for being found attractive," Nimue notes, and rolls her stool around so she's at Snowcora's side now. She has a tray in her lap with various creams and powders and paints, along with brushes and poufs and stranger tools. "Hmmm, cheeks first, I think, then eyes," she says, and dabs a pouf into what looks like soot. "Might want to close your eyes, just in case.."

Snowcora does close her eyes. She knows full well how unpleasant things are to get into her eyes. She has had a lot of experience with that and dust during flying. She also realizes she can't talk right now to ask anything further, or it might disturb her makeup work.

There are light touches on the albino's cheeks and eyelids, and then Nim warns, "I'm going to doing some brushwork now, so keep your eyes closed." Makeup is applies underneath Snowcora's eyes, and.. on her eyelashes? "Puckup up so I can do your lips next," the hairdresser asks.

Snowcora finds holding still for the brushwork around her eyes hard. She wants to squint badly and just barely manages not to. At the next request she rolls her lips a few times against each other then puckers up so Nim can apply her brush to them.

It's all rather new, giving how sensitive Snow's skin can be and that she's not used to being so bare for things like this. When the lips are done, Nimue says, "Just one more detail.. this may.. uh.. feel cold." The warning comes just before a wet brush is applied to Snowcora's left nipple.

Snowcora's fingers splay. "What are you doing?" she asks, finally opening her eyes a little so she can look down and see what is being applied to such a sensitive area.

A look reveals that what was originally very pale pink.. is slightly less pale pink now. Enough so that the ivory balls of the barbells aren't 'lost' against Snowcora's own paleness.

"Doing the other one, or just one?" Snowcora asks, feeling a little embarrassed how much that ... stands out now.

"Both of course," Nim says cheerfully. "Oh, would you prefer a different color?"

"Anything else you'd like touched up?" Nim asks as she finishes tinting the other teat. "Do you want to see a mirror?"

"I'm surprised my lower area wasn't accented as well," Snowcora admits, "But the flower does a good job of that. I can't think of anything else right now ... so may I see a mirror?"

A large mirror is brought over, and Snowcora can see.. a different person, practically. The shading on her cheeks makes her seem slightly gaunt, while the black lipstick is a stark contrast. Her eyelids have some subtle black to them, but the thickened eyelashes and the black underscoring make her silver eyes look almost completely white in relation, with black pinpricks for pupils. Her hair is pulled into a bun, with just the two curling locks from her temples to frame her face. But the bun itself is unique, when she turns her head to look. Black thread was woven into the braid, and the effect as the braids loop through the bun is that of a black spiderweb. A black-leaved, white-petaled cloth lily adorns the pin that holds it all in place.

Snowcora actually gasps. "That is ... me?" she asks as she leans in closer to the mirror and turns her head this way and that. "I look completely different. I look so ... pretty, yet somehow scary," she tells Nimue. "You are really, really, good. I think Mordecai will also just love it."

"It a standard death-cameo makeover," Nimue notes. "Very popular with humans. Of course, I didn't have to apply any white base for you! So you get the veining, which is very nice.."

"I will be the envy of many humans," Snowcora says, all smiles as she decides this isn't so bad at all. "What do I owe for this work?"

"Oh, I think you already paid," Nim says with a wink and a nod towards the back door.

"He is probably still asleep. I didn't let him .... release for quite some time," Snowcora says with a devious smile. "If that is all that is expected of me here, am I to return to Mordecai?"

Snowcora takes the offered hand lightly and rises. The albino then collects her cloak and wraps it back around her body to conceal her tattoo and jewelry. "Thank you again, Nimue. I do hope we will meet again. And .... just one more question, did Mordecai say why he wanted me made up?"

The woman suddenly snaps her fingers! "Oh! Wait! I almost forgot.." Nimue claims, and runs to fetch a bottle and brush. "Your nails! Ah.. could you sit down again?"

Snowcora remains cloaked as she settles back into the chair. It is easy enough to keep her hands out, after all.

"I was so caught up in your hair I completely forgot," Nim says, blushing. "Mordecai would have bit me if I let you go without that!"

"Nails are that important?" Snowcora asks. "And Mordecai biting you is an honor. It feels wonderful."

"Depends on how he bites!" Nim claims, and takes Snowcora's right hand. The process is a bit more complicated that usual, since instead of doing a single color, there is a fade - from black at the base to bright red at the tip. At least there isn't any file work needed - Snow always kept her nails well manicured. The fade is repeated on her toes, but for the left hand it goes from black to bright green, to match the colors of the tattoo there.

Since Snowcora has her claws done at the salon in Draco county she is at least passingly familiar with the procedure and knows how to hold still and low long each appendage must remain motionless for the polish to dry. "I've never seen a fade done before. That looks hard," she comments. "And ... I like the black to green fade on my left hand..."

It's almost a full hour before Nim declares that she's finished. "Just wait while I get the blower," she says, and slips out through the main door.

And so Snowcora waits with her fingers spread and her feet spread so the nails can dry. "That is a huge mark that glorifies Gorphat," she thinks as she looks over her dark left forearm with the green veining. "I hope I don't live to regret that."

The door opens a few moments later, as Nimue returns with.. Jacoba. The buck immediately knees down before the chair and blows gently across Snowcora's toes.

"Oh yes," Nimue agrees with honesty. "He's very helpful," she says, eyeing the rabbit's rump through his tight pants.

"Yes, he's always willing and ready to please. All you have to do is ask," Snowcora continues to tease.

While holding Snowcora's heal, Jacoba blows gently.. and looks up Snowcora's cloak, of course.

And Snowcora shifts her legs while keeping such an innocent expression, even though it improves Jacoba's view.

After several minutes of this, Nimue declares it safe for Snowcora to wear the slippers again.

"All right. Well, thank you again. I shall now return to my Lord," Snowcora says as she rises from the chair. She pauses to lightly stroke one of Jacoba's ears, then goes to don her slippers.

Once they're back in the corridors of the Morgue, the buck looks back and says, "I could just bury my face in her chest, but she shies away whenever approached."

"With how she was eying your backside, I think she likes you too. Maybe you should try to be more subtle? Buy her some nice black flowers. Just tell her she is beautiful. Offer to take her to dinner?" Snowcora suggests. "She seems nervous, but with encouragement I think would open herself to you." There's a pause, then she asks, "Mordecai went to a fair expense to do my hair and makeup ... do you know what he is planning?"

"Oh ... dear," Nicora frets. Still, it can't be that bad. "Oh, that is possible," she agrees as they walk.

When they get to Mordecai's lair, the door is opened and Snowcora is ushered in. "I see Nimue is as talented as ever," he remarks upon getting a good look at Snowcora's makeover.

"She was quite amazing and very gentle," Snowcora explains as she sheds her cloak and slippers again, so that Mordecai can see the accents on her chest as well. "Thank you for sending me to her again. It is a delight to have her work on me. The payment to her brother was also made as per your agreement with him my ... Lord."

"Excellent," Moredecai says, but it isn't clear if he's commenting on the payment or the makeup and polish. "I need your lock and chain again," he notes, holding his hand out.

She also spreads her legs shoulder-width should his intent be to put it back on her.

The chain and lock are set aside on a velvet covered pillow, and turns to another tray.. covered in chitin chains. He selects one, and wraps it around Snowcora's waist, securing it with a small loop of wire. It's a bit snug, but not uncomfortable. Then he reaches for more chains, urging, "Try not to move.."

Snowcora's brow goes up as the chain slides around her waist and is secured by the wire-loop. "As you wish, my Lord," Snowcora says, trying to suppress the nervousness that builds. She looks towards the wall again, trying to focus on it to keep herself calm.

It's a time-consuming process, as the Eeee continues to add lengths of chain. Chain circles Snowcora's neck, rests against her collarbone, and linked through her rings to other chains on her thighs and hips. The pin through her navel is an anchor for more, as are the barbells through her nipples. Layer by layer, Snowcora is woven an open corset of thin chains, leaving everything still exposed, but giving the illusion of a garment. Finally, a thin black tiara is added, with a veil of chains woven into a net similar to that of Eezy and Nim's shirts.

"/I can't believe I'm letting him do this. I'm not complaining. I'm not resisting,/" Snowcora frets all the while each chain is added, one at a time. "/He's going to believe I'm totally his property at this rate. And how does this come off? The wires will make ir hard to remove and ..." She draws in a slow, deep, breath, then lets it out.

"Perfect," Mordecai says, and the goes to fetch new cloaks; deep black ones, that look more like Noble's fur coats than rabbit-fur robes. He brings one over to Snowcora, and helps slide it on from behind, lowering it so she doesn't have to raise her arms.

"This ... doesn't come off, does it? The chains I mean?" Snowcora asks nervously as she holds still and lets the cloak slide onto her body. Any little movement seems to be magnified by her 'clothing'. Even breathing tugs and pulls in interesting ways that make her want to gasp.

"Eventually, they do," Mordecai promises, whispering right into Snowcora's ear. He reaches around to tie the cloak closed. "You can step into your slippers now."

Snowcora lifts her foot and the tug that follows makes her 'eep' slightly. She catches her breath, then slips her foot into one of the slippers. A similar reaction follows her other foot as it eases into the soft slipper. "I can't move without ... stimulating something," she admits to Mordecai.

"I'm not like Hortense," Mordecai says, as he dons his own cloak.. and a furry beret as well. "I do now wish to control or restrict your movements. If you will not be able to walk, I will see to it that you are carried."

"I can walk," Snowcora claims, "It just ... reminds me with every step what I wear under the cloak. I'll ... get used to it." She smiles to the odd Eeee, noting, "I accepted to take on your desires when I promised to be your servant girl for my time here."

"You are much more than that, my muse," Mordecai claims, and opens the door to the tunnels, offering his elbow to Snowcora.

Snowcora slides her arm into Mordecai's waiting one. "What am I, then?" she asks her fellow albino teasingly.

"A masterpiece," the Eee claims, and leads Snowcora to the stairs, up into the club, and through the main room as if escorting royalty. All heads turn to watch.

Snowcora can't exactly blush, but her skin does flush at the praise. She walks along with him, her gait measures and even to keep what she wears from tugging and pulling too much. When they enter the club, she bows her head to hide the embarrassed flushing she still feels.

They don't linger, but actually exit to the street - where Guy is waiting, wearing a cutlass at his side and looking more imposing than usual - he's even got a noose hanging across his chest. Decorative of course; likely the Darkside version of a ruffled cravat. He wordlessly falls into step alongside the paler pair. It's night, with the procession lighting up the sky.. and some of the ground, luckily, since nobody lights streetlamps in this part of town.

"I am honored you are proud enough of me to wish to walk the streets with me," Snowcora murmurs to Mordecai, remaining close to him as she feels very vulnerable given she's wearing nothing ore than wired together chain beneath that cloak. "I wish I could stay with you forever and remain ever your masterpiece."

"Art is a living thing, so permanence is an illusion," Mordecai claims, as the move through Darkside, skirting around the Old Cemetery. There are some whispers and noises in the darkness, but nobody seems willing to risk dealing with Guy. Soon, they are in front of what looks like an old warehouse, but the sign above the entrance declares it to be the Grim Fandango and the Jupani bouncer out front does not look happy to see them. "Mordecai," he growls. Guy's throat feathers fluff out a bit in response.

Snowcora feels vulnerable when the whispers start. Without her Eeee ears, she cannot tell what they say or where they remotely are. It's very disconcerting. Still, she finds some enjoyment of the night; being with her odd, but fun, friend makes it less scary. Having guy along also helps, the vartan may be young, but he has strength and presence. The Jupani's greeting snaps her attention away from the sign and she looks at him oddly. "What does he have against Mordecai?" she wonders.

"Bruno, isn't it?" Mordecai replies. "My friends and I would like to enter your fine establishment," he says, smiling brightly. The bouncer grumbles about it, but does open the door.

Snowcora smiles and bows her head to the Jupani. "Thank you, Bruno," she murmurs to him.

The inside of the club is dark, with the same sort of faux-cemetery decor as the Morgue's main room. But otherwise it seems more of a restaurant or tavern than a 'social' club; there are many low tables in the smoky room, and a long bar along one side. But Mordecai doesn't even look at the tables or patrons, he saunters arm-in-arm with Snowcora towards the stage in the center of the room, where the only real light shines. Right now, it illuminates a skinny Rath'ani girl in a tight black dress, seated on a stool and reciting.. well.. just awful poetry. "Despite the mold, I ate the sandwich; the bitter taste the flavor of Truth in a decaying world.." There isn't any applause, but someone coughs loudly.

"Wow, that was terrible," Snowcora thinks as she stops herself from applauding as well. Not even polite applause for a poor actor; apparently that isn't how it is done here. "And ... he really is taking me to dinner," she realizes, feeling her skin flush again.

Of course it then hits her she is being lead towards the stage, which makes her rethink this is for dinner. Something worries her and she hopes she's wrong...

Once the raccoon girl slumps off the stage, a black Khatta takes it and asks, "Is there anyone else brave enough to bare their soul tonight.." He stops when he notices Mordecai and Snowcora at the steps of the stage. "Oh.. would you like to share something, Mordecai of the Morgue?" he says, looking upset.

"Of course!" Mordecai claims. "Someone must inspire these poor souls," he says, in his booming voice. The Khatta crushes out his cigarette, and makes a sweeping gesture towards the stool.

And that's about when Nicora's stomach /sinks/. "/Oh Goddesses, he's going to display me to the club!" she realizes when the meaning of bare hits her, what she's wearing and who she is with. She hugs onto Mordecai's arm just a little bit tighter.

The Eeee ascends the stage, guiding Snowcora along. "Are you afraid?" he whispers to her.

"Nervous," Snowcora whispers back, "But I trust you and will do what you wish of me."

"Genuine fear would astonish this crowd," Mordecai whispers, as he guides her to center of the stage. There he turns to face Snowcora, so that her back is to the audience. "I present to you poetry of the skin - a soul worn outside, for all to see. I give you; The Altar of the World," he announces, and then undoes and slides off Snowcora's cloak, exposing her black-tattooed back to the crowd.

If the crowd gasps, Snowcora doesn't hear it over her own gasp as she feels the cloak slide away from her back. Though she wears a knitting of chains all about her body, held by wire and her own jewelry, she feels completely bare on her torso. A nervous shiver visibly runs through her body, seen as a ripple in the chains that cover her. "I can't believe I'm doing this!" she frets. Yet ... she does nothing to stop Mordecai.

"The eyes of death," someone mutters from a nearer table, and there is a rustle of chairs being moved as people get up and come to get a closer look. "The face of death," another notes, trying to one-up the first commenter. "I see lost souls, they cry when she shivers.." a girl comments. There are plenty of whispers that Snowcora can't make out, until someone nearer the side says, "There's more on the front.."

Snowcora's eyes go wide when she hears that comment. She looks up into Mordecai's red eyes. "Should I turn, my Lord?" she asks in a waverying, nervous, voice.

Snowcora swallows at Mordecai's request. She bows her head to the Eeee and murmurs, "Yes, my Lord." Her breath draws in and the Eeee turns slowly around, her arms held down at her sides. Her chains may as well not be there. She's never felt this naked before.

There are more gasps, and commentary that incites arguments in the crowd. "Color? Why.." "Because, those are symbolizing life, but see how they're chained and bound, while Death was free." "Suffering too, see the hand? It's not bound or hidden; the true nature of the world!" "She's got not hair.." "She's a ghost, a spirit.."

"Great boobs," someone notes, and Snowcora can't help but notice that person - the leering face belongs to an Eeee; Gotrekis bar Kesekis, one of Rikat's guardians. And just next to him is Mave, wearing a slinky black velvet dress. She catches Snowcora's eyes and gives an approving nod and an enigmatic grin.. but also raises a hand before her chest.. and signs something. Three formal gestures, executed quickly: Ship Dock Tomorrow.

"I am the altar of Inala," Snowcora murmurs, adding to the moment, as she touches her stomach, fingers just over the Flower. "I bear her gifts to create life and pleasure." A pause, then she continues, "I am the Altar of Gorphat, I bear her mark of affliction on my left arm." Then yet another pause before she says, "I am the Altar of Nala, of all aspects of Life." The last bit she touches her chest. "And upon my back is the summation of it all, the passage to Death." It's then that her eyes catch Mave's gestures and her hand goes back to touch the Flower, realizing Mave just saw it. As if things couldn't get any worse ... and the ship arrives tomorrow? She will have to examine it, though she fears she will be tired because when they get home; she expects Mordacai is going to make use of her Altar to Inala, a lot.