Two books tucked under his arm and purse one hundred gold lighter (with a promise of 50 gold back if the books are returned in acceptable condition), [[11.12 November Bituin|November]] goes to find [[11.11 Tam|Tam]]. She's sitting in an odd little reading nook that he's never seen before, but November is familiar enough with L-space to know that you shouldn't make any presumptions about little old bookshops like this. Tam is talking to a man that November is _sure_ he recognizes but can't place. "I'm ready to go when you are, Tamara," he says, still trying to figure out who the redhead is. He's got aspects of Rowan about him, a certain scent of the Drow...and some uncomfortably familiar overtones as well. The smoked glasses he's wearing are chilling. "_Mister_ November Bituin," The man says and snaps is mouth shut on the last word. "Oh you've given me _my_ own time, haven't you?" He stands up, not explaining the statement and caresses the leaves of one plant. It shivers in a way that makes Tam shiver in response. Fear and excitement mixed but...it's a plant... "Well! You two have places to go, things to _purchase_." he says bowing over Tamara's hand. "Take care of Mr. Phale's books, yeah?" He says and saunters off, seemingly directly through a bookshelf. _Any idea who that was?_ November asks telepathically "I heard that," the man says from wherever he is. "I ah, I think we should go buy some chocolate, don't you?" He says out loud, but quietly. --- Once outside of the shop, November pulls Tam into a strong hug and then looks down into her eyes. His own eyes twinkling, he says "now then, back to the inn?" He lets her try not to argue before leaning down to kiss her. "I am joking of course. You have been incredibly patient." And he leads her around a corner and down a small but well-kempt street. Every storefront on this lane quietly speaks of elegant good taste. Nothing gaudy, nothing ostentatious. The store into which November leads Tam has a simple, one-word sign over the door: > Confections A small, tasteful chime sounds when the door opens. But Tam doesn't notice that. The moment the door opens Tam is in a different world just as surely as if she had crossed planes. This world introduces itself to her via scent but instantly goes beyond scent to all senses. To say "there is a rich aroma of chocolate" would be to deprive the reader of the experience. The first whirl of air curling around the door carries a forward scent of chocolate but that is only the opening note of the symphony. Vanilla, chocolate's constant companion, joins in a moment later and the two weave in and out of each other. Rare spices and flavorings from distant lands add contrasting tones-- And Tam isn't even fully inside the door yet. More or less pulling her, November enters the shop and closes the door behind them. Tam's pulse has quickened considerably. Now she's swimming in the aroma, so rich as to have a texture. November leads her by the hand to the counter, almost like he's leading a balloon on a string. The display case is fronted in simple glass, revealing a spectrum of dark delights. Yes, all of them are "brown" but that doesn't do justice to the artistry on display. dozens of shades of chocolate glisten tastefully under magical lighting, some seemingly polished mirror-smooth, others matte and looking soft and velvety. Perfect hemispheres, compact little rectangles, even a few pyramids and ovals. Some have complex swirls of lighter or darker chocolate on top, others are decorated with a perfectly carved pieces of candied fruit. Every single aspect of the store and its wares indicates a mind given _entirely_ to seeking perfection in their art. A tasteful, dark red curtain separates the kitchen from the storefront and is parted briefly. A [[Temper|tiefling]] emerges, his skin a deep reddish brown as well. His horns spiral up from his head, and are glossy and polished, the tips covered in two small, detailed filigree caps of copper. His dark black hair also seems to have been polished and slicked back, perfectly arranged along his head and taking in the difficulty of styling hair around horns, making it look natural and effortless. Nothing about his clothing draws your attention, but should one inspect it, one would find that every detail is perfect. There is no hint of disorder, no loose thread. "Sir, Madam, good day to you both," he says and his voice is also rich and low and velvety and seems to suggest dark delights while being entirely free of innuendo. Tam isn't speaking, verbally or telepathically, but November can _feel_ her arousal and smiles a little. "Good day to you as well." November says, still looking at the chocolates and then he looks up, directly into the tiefling's eyes. "I can see there are two ways to do this. I can pick and choose and try to look wise, or I can acknowledge that you have already read me and my beloved like books. So..." he stops and takes a healthy pile of gold coins from his purse, places them in a small mound on the counter. "Instead I will simply trust you to decide what this will buy. Mostly for my beloved of course. Only one or two simple pieces for me." The tiefling smiles. "A sign of good taste is knowing when to trust an artist." He says quietly. "Please give me some time to collect your purchase, sir. While you wait, allow me to offer you each a small piece. There is a table just there where you may enjoy the experience. Ice water is on the table, please do not shame either of us by asking for any other drink." Two small hemispheres are placed on a plate, the plate handed to November, who guides Tam over to the table. "Blink twice if you still know what words are," November says quietly. Tam's gray eyes are wide and her cheeks are pink. November pushes the plate to Tam so that she can choose first, even though they are identical, most likely to the molecular level. _Take a small bite and try not to climax **too** loudly._ November is watching her with joyful green eyes. Making Tam happy is its own reward, but making her happy in a way where she can't even _pretend_ to resist is...thrilling. The confections are chocolate truffles, no more than fifty grams of perfectly blended truffle, chocolate, sugar, vanilla...and secret flavors that were chosen by a master artist. But Tam takes a full fifteen minutes to eat hers, each small bite forcing her eyes closed, small moans of pleasure each time, quiet and low. November doesn't touch his. He'll enjoy feeding it to Tam far more than he could possibly enjoy eating it. At the end of fifteen minutes the tiefling comes back out from the back room. In both hands he is holding a modestly sized box, made of inexpensive paperboard, but coated and shining. There is a small card attached to the top with "Lady Tamara" written in perfect, elegant unical calligraphy, the ink a rich deep brown. "It is my pleasure to offer this to you, I feel that you will be entirely satisfied with the value for your money. And please do not be alarmed or surprised that I am aware of your identities, Mr Bituin, Fireshear is a small town and word travels nearly instantly, even to me." November takes the box and the tiefling continues. "I have attached a card inside the lid, letting you know what each confection is called, should you want to order more by name. But to truly enjoy these works, I suggest you sample them first, look at the names after." November nods his thanks, holds the box in one hand, and leads Tamara with the other. "We are going outside now, it's going to be a shock, but you are strong, are you ready? Okay, let's go."