Post by Erick Ganz on Nov 27, 2013 14:39:31 GMT -8
So very odd, the sensitivities I am encountering.
The disaster in Seattle has left me…disappointed. Deeply. I cannot claim true ‘sadness’; I am uncertain I am capable of that sort of emotion any longer. However, the exorbitant loss of life has removed from the world thousands of souls which will never reach or discover their true potential. So much opportunity lost. It is a waste, and a disappointment.
And so, what does one do to try and counter such dour sentiment? Well, the obvious. The experience of despair and depression is not, by any means, an unworthy travail, but it is not exactly an attractive atmosphere to cultivate when trying to socialize. And so, over the course of the last gathering, surrounded as I was by the multitudes of the female form, I chose to insist on the exposure of feet.
Oh, but what is the fascination with feet??
Octavia was so disquieted by it; Dragos nearly rabid in his cold outrage at the grand offense I was perpetrating. A foot fetish! How scandalous! How aberrant!
Now, never mind the fact that this all occurred amongst undead blood drinkers, blood sorcerers and necromancers, mind you. Certainly the naked foot is the height of abomination amidst such lofty and stainless company.
So why the feet?
I imagined that the feet were something that could be exposed in Elysium without too much general scandal. This was not skinny-dipping in the fish pond, after all, or Dragos railing into Cole across a table.
The real taboo, it seems, was in the asking to see the naked feet; the sense of discomfort and odd...naughtiness was my goal. After all, if a women had plainly walked in with bare feet as a matter of style preference, it would be doubtful anyone would take notice or care. But for a women to undress a part of herself on 'command'...well, obviously it is quite erotic; quite stimulating. And thus a method by which to cure the gloom that ailed me.
But alas, my inappropriateness brought me unwanted and unnecessary grief from the undead purveyor of blood sorcery, and the Italian necromancer whose family is beyond reproach when it comes to moral deviancy. I was certainly put in my place!
But ill-opinion and wounded social harmony is not my goal, and so I made what propitiations I could to ease tensions, and repair the atmosphere. It is what I do: work to make people feel better about themselves.
Even about their feet.
