Post by Deleted on Feb 17, 2014 21:12:19 GMT -5
Just to frame this up ahead of time and give some context:
She's 14, been gemmed for a month or so, and had just started experimenting with others about her age, wound up with a boyfriend and girlfriend and they all three fooled around once, then the boyfriend and girlfriend got together, leaving her out of the loop, so in her loneliness, she winds up banging an AOD recruit on the secret and gets lice from him (more accurately, the staff put a flea script on both of them for some reason I still can't fathom since neither of them had fleas). I'll add more from the logs on her as I clean them up.
arm - Tuesday, February 26, 2013, 2:08 AM
A twiggy mix of fine-boned and just a little too skinny, this woman
maintains a mostly ageless but vaguely youthful appearance. She's just on
the verge of too small in both height and weight, and a mess of fine,
tousled, but relatively clean coffee-colored hair falls to the middle of her
shoulder-blades in a messy series of waves, with long bangs framing the wide
lips that rest just above her rounded jawline with a slight underbite.
Youthfully rounded still, the apples of her cheeks camoflage her
cheekbones, giving her the appearance of someone not long into womanhood,
though the large, velvety blue-greyish slate hue of her long-lashed eyes is
piercingly precocious. An uneven part, pale skin, and an overall disheveled
appearance finish the portrait of this lissome, rawboned young woman's
looks, her wiry frame towing the line between slender and sickly, giving her
a delicate and breakable visage with long twiggy legs, and long, lean arms
framing a skinny torso with barely defined curves.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette is in excellent condition.
<in hair> some flower-carved opal beads
<in left ear> a delicate translucent earring
<in right ear> a delicate translucent earring
<around neck> a moon-carved, white stone pendant
<about throat> a dull black gem
<on torso> a bare-shouldered, girdled golden dress
<on arms> a leaf-patterned jade armlet
<around right wrist> a translucent beaded purse
<around left wrist> a gleaming white stone bracelet
<hands> a chain of green leaves tattoo
<secondary hand> a broad stone chisel
<on right index finger> an amethyst-set, carved bone ring
<on left index finger> a black ring with white veins
<on feet> a pair of shiny black leather shoes
You sigh.
Patiently, you shape the stone into a bracelet.
You put your gleaming white stone bracelet into your large bag.
You could make a pyramid carved, white stone ring from that.
You could make a couple of massive skull-carved rings from that.
You could make a white stone bracelet from that.
You could make a pair of sun-shaped white stone earrings from that.
You could make a moon-carved white stone pendant from that.
You begin crafting a white stone bracelet from a hand-sized chunk of
white alabaster you are carrying.
Tiny shards of stone scatter into the air as you begin to work the rock.
Chewing on her lip, you say, in sirihish:
"Fucking alabaster."
Patiently, you shape the stone into a bracelet.
You put your gleaming white stone bracelet into your large bag.
You begin crafting a pair of sun-shaped white stone earrings from a
hand-sized chunk of white alabaster you are carrying.
Tiny shards of stone scatter into the air as you begin to work the rock.
You feel your mental contact withdrawing from the mind of your target.
You carve the stone into an earring.
This small earring has been carved and polished from a hard,
semi-translucent white stone. It is small and flat, with triangular waves
extending out from a circular base to provide the imagery of a blazing sun.
Protruding from the back is a narrow length of the same stone, allowing it
to be placed into one's ear. It is no more then an inch across its front
and is quite dainty in appearance and weight. Though the simple design and
exquisite polishing give it much aesthetic value.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the tall male wearing a stained grey shaded, black face-wrap has arrived from the north.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the male wearing a long, featureless obsidian mask has arrived from the north.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the figure in a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak has arrived from the north.
Down in a narrow alleyway, Clucking his tongue lightly, the tall male wearing a stained grey shaded, black face-wrap says something.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the figure in a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak sheathes a forked dagger.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the figure in a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak sheathes a forked dagger.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the male wearing a long, featureless obsidian mask sheathes a pink pearl-pommeled bone dagger.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the tall male wearing a stained grey shaded, black face-wrap walks south.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the male wearing a long, featureless obsidian mask walks south.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the figure in a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak walks south.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the tall male wearing a stained grey shaded, black face-wrap closes the blockade from the other side.
In front of the Tower of Whira, the tall figure in a set of hooded, stone grey robes has arrived from the east.
In front of the Tower of Whira, the male wearing a long, featureless obsidian mask has arrived from the east.
In front of the Tower of Whira, the figure in a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak has arrived from the east.
In front of the Tower of Whira, the tall figure in a set of hooded, stone grey robes walks south.
In front of the Tower of Whira, the male wearing a long, featureless obsidian mask walks south.
In front of the Tower of Whira, the figure in a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak walks south.
A single piece of gleaming white stone has been crafted into this massive
ring. The most striking part of its robust band is a carved elven skull,
large enough to cover a whole digit of the wearer's finger. Empty, hollow
eyesockets wear a blank, lifeless stare while the mouth hangs open in a
silent scream.
You put your massive, skull-carved ring into your large bag.
You think:
"Meh. At least if I have to be lonely, I can make sids while I do it."
You feel despondent and gross.
In a large bag (carried) :
a black granite ring
a pyramid carved, polished white stone ring
a couple of massive, skull-carved rings
a couple of sun-shaped white stone earrings
a couple of gleaming white stone bracelets
a couple of green marble bracelets
a few handfuls of bitter smelling leaves
a loose, off-white sandcloth robe
a green glow-crystal
a few small pieces of crystal
a few small, angular chunks of quartz
a few carved agafari combs
a couple of translucent blue stones
a shard of agate
a few rough bits of carnelian
a few shards of sharp-edged flint
a few chunks of cloudy white quartz
a few purple amethyst crystals
a couple of rough chunks of bluish rock
a couple of greenish-grey stones
a few small globules of sticky, golden sap
a dusky-black feather
a couple of golden linen scarves
a long, embroidered white veil
a couple of crumbling red tablets
a couple of translucent green tablets
a booklet of rolling papers
a small yellow tablet
a grainy yellow tablet
a deck of Kruth cards
a waterskin
a stone rasp
You are Emere.
Keywords: rawboned slate-eyed brunette emmie
Sdesc: the rawboned, slate-eyed brunette
Objective: Need animation from Mimintia regarding glypah and flea script.
Long Description:
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette is here working with a small gleaming object.
You are 14 years, 0 months, and 192 days old,
which by your race and appearance is young.
You are 62 inches tall, and weigh 6 ten-stone.
Your strength is poor, your agility is above average,
your wisdom is extremely good, and your endurance is below average.
You are neither hungry nor thirsty.
Your health is 87(87), you have 117(117) mana, 102(111) stamina,
and 94(94) stun.
You have been playing for 4 days and 22 hours.
You are resting.
You are currently speaking sirihish with a southern accent.
[87/87|102/111|94/94|117/117][Invis|flying]
[resting|no problem|late afternoon|Ocandra]
Your encumbrance is no problem.
Relationship to the land is neutral.
You are currently speaking sirihish with a southern accent.
You are affected by:
Fly, Invisibility
Your mood is neutral.
You are resting.
You are refusing saves on: arrest | subdue | .
You are not being merciful.
You aren't watching anything in particular.
[87/87|102/111|94/94|117/117][Invis|flying]
[resting|no problem|late afternoon|Ocandra]
Magickal spells
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
teleport [wek ] detect invisible [mon ]
invisibility [sul ] levitate [mon ]
hands of wind [yuqa] guardian [wek ]
fly [een ] feather fall [wek ]
identify [wek ]
Known reaches
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
reach un reach nil
Psionic powers
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
contact (journeyman) barrier (novice)
Combat skills
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
dual wield (novice) shield use (novice)
two handed (novice)
Manipulation skills
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
ride (novice)
Perception skills
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
forage (journeyman) watch (journeyman)
Barter skills
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
value (apprentice)
Language skills
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
sirihish (master) southern accent
[MORE]
Craft skills
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
feather working (novice) cooking (novice)
jewelrymaking (advanced) analyze (novice)
You stop resting, and stand up.
Winds swirl around you as you draw upon the power of Whira.
You utter the incantation, 'yuqa nil whira locror viod'.
You lost your concentration!
Winds swirl around you as you draw upon the power of Whira.
You utter the incantation, 'yuqa nil whira locror viod'.
You lost your concentration!
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette mumbles.
You shake your head.
Inside of Whira's Tower [UD]
Partway up the stairs, one is afforded a view both up and down the
length of this tall, slender construction of white stone. The narrow,
unrailinged staircase winds around and around the Tower walls in both
directions, utterly exposed to the fierce Zalanthan winds.
Inside of Whira's Tower [UD]
Partway up the stairs, one is afforded a view both up and down the
length of this tall, slender construction of white stone. The narrow,
unrailinged staircase winds around and around the Tower walls in both
directions, utterly exposed to the fierce Zalanthan winds.
Base of Whira's Tower [EU]
Here, a tiled courtyard surrounds the slender white stone Tower of
Whira, poised as though in flight against the sky. The Tower extends up
several stories, a staircase winding around the walls, all the way up to
the top. The narrow, steep stairs have no railing at all, making climbing
them a dizzying and perhaps precarious proposition.
A high archway leads eastward into the temple itself.
A languid, sandy-haired man looks studiously over the area.
Inner Sanctum of the Temple of Whira [SW Quit]
The walls of this chamber, which curve inward gently as they rise to
an arched dome, are covered with a mosaic of pastel and light-colored tiles
depicting a view of the Known World, as it might appear from high in the
air. The floor is recognizable as a map of Allanak and its surrounding
deserts, although only a blank white space marks the Templars' and Nobles'
Quarters. The light for this room comes from the high archway that leads
westward, towards the base of the Tower of Whira, while southward lies the
temple's outer chamber.
A willowy, azure-eyed woman leans near the archway.
West of here is Base of Whira's Tower.
[Near]
A languid, sandy-haired man looks studiously over the area.
You suffer from use of the Way.
You are unable to reach their mind.
You suffer from use of the Way.
You are unable to reach their mind.
You suffer from use of the Way.
You are unable to reach their mind.
A foreign presence contacts your mind.
The Top of Whira's Tower [NESWUD]
Winds blow with fierce insistence from all directions, with a force
that cannot be experienced on the ground. There is little sand this high
up, but the wind takes impassioned delight in hurling what exists with harsh
abandon at any exposed flesh. Allanak lies darkened far below, lights
glimmering like gems embroidered in the cloak of night's shadow. Far to the
south, Tektolnes' Tower gleams golden against the blackened sky.
There is no railing here, and an unwary step risks a plunge towards
the ground in front of the Tower.
You sit down and rest your tired bones.
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"*Affection* Hi, Emmie. Was... that you?"
You suffer from use of the Way.
You are unable to reach their mind.
You contact the stygian-haired young woman with the Way.
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"No, Sybelle. I have an embarassing question for you, though..."
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Okay. It was so odd. I entered my apartment, and then heard the wind. It reminded me of you. And then my head hurt... so much. Now I just feel tired and weak."
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Maybe I'm just hungry. *Weariness* Anyway, what is your question?"
You feel nothing for her, anymore.
You feel disgusted at the lies and the shit and the hurt.
Immortals
---------
There are 0 visible Immortals currently in the world.
There are 7 players currently in the world, other than yourself.
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"Do you know how to get rid of like... mites or fleas or what have you? I got them in someone's apartment while I was laying on their carpet."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"I heard that glypah will get rid of them, but not how, and I am in seclusion until I can find a way to get rid of them. I don't want anyone else to get them. I feel their disgusting little legs crawling all over me. *a mental shudder*"
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Well... It depends on what kind of fleas you havve. Do you have any blue spots?"
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"Not that I know of. I got them kanking, but that's where he got them as well. So I know I did not get them from him. He thought I cursed him. *self-disgust* That's expected, I guess, but just... so much for escaping the feel of being unwanted."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"Right?"
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"I thought you got them sleeping on a rug? *Uncertainty* Okay... I... Come to my apartment. I'll figure something out."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"Go figure the one time I lay with someone and it doesn't hurt anyone, it gives both people lice. It's like I'm being punished. *hesitation* Are you sure, Sybelle? I don't want to get these nasty things in your apartment."
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Let me put my clothes in the dresser, first. I'll probably have to shave myself after... But I shouldn't get them."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"Alright. And yeah, I know. That's the big reason I shave everything below my eyebrows is to avoid those nasty critters. Um... just let me know when everything's set so I can come in?"
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Okay. Come on in."
You gently drop to the ground.
You slowly fade into existence.
You unlock the door with a small, simple bone key. - *click*
You open the door.
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"*A mild uncertainty to her thoughts* So you're having sex with more people. Is it... fun?"
A Mud-Brick Apartment [N Quit Save]
This plain apartment has reddish-brown mud-brick walls, and its shape
is nearly a perfect square. The floor is made up of thick mekillot bones,
though a black rug covers most of floor space. A bone bed and set of
drawers are secured to one wall, and the only other distinguishing aspect of
the room is a bone-barred window on the southern wall. Past these
horizontal bars is a view of the busy Caravan Road below, from where the
various sounds of conversation and pack-beasts originate. Opposite to this
window is the door that would appear to be the only exit.
A crumpled canvas sack lies here in a heap.
A tall black stone vase is here in the light of the window.
A few unlit bulbous green candles sits in the window.
A slender bone sword is propped up against the dresser.
A blood red blossom has been left between the bars of the window.
A bone and leather keg, striped with blue paint, fills the air with acidic fumes.
A cask has been nestled into the corner.
The stygian-haired young woman is sitting on a grey, bone-framed bed.
Lifting ah and to wave, the stygian-haired young woman looks up at you.
Gently, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"It's just me."
Speaking quietly as she peeks her head in, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"It was... spectacular, at the moment. But then...."
Smiling a little wider, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"That's a really pretty dress."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette shakes her head, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
You begin watching the stygian-haired young woman.
As she steps in, you close the door.
The stygian-haired young woman stands up from a grey, bone-framed bed, then holds her arms open to you.
Hushed and gentle, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"I'm sorry, Emmie. Do you not want to talk about it?"
Looking down at herself, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"All I ever wanted was to feel like... loved loved. I know... I know you love me. And I love you. It's just... I wanted...want...someone that won't have to take time to think about it."
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman looks sympathetically to you, even as she anxiously chews the inside of her cheek.
As she steps closer, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Shh, shh, it's okay."
Scratching at her cheek, you say, in sirihish:
"Where's it's like 'I love YOU Emmie, you're the most important thing to me, and I want you to smile and be happy for the rest of your days'."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette gives the stygian-haired young woman a heartbroken but warm smile.
The stygian-haired young woman lightly touches her fingertip to your lips, and looks into your eyes. Fondly, she tries to draw you into her arms and embrace you tightly.
You notice the stygian-haired young woman start watching you.
Looking down at herself for a long moment, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I guess it's just because... when I think of love... that's how I feel like it should be. And I just feel like..."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette hushes as the stygian-haired young woman's fingertip is touched to her lip, her small frame practically collapses into her arms as if releasing, for a moment, the weight of the world.
Gently, the stygian-haired young woman whispers to you, in sirihish:
"Emmie. It's okay. I understand. I... I want to be with you no matter what. That's not what I'm thinking about. I've just been wondering if it's what's... well, best for you."
Smiling lopsidedly as she tries to pull back after a moment, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"It's not that I don't want to hug you, I do, so much, I just don't want you to get these horrible things. They itch so much. And they bite from head to toe."
The stygian-haired young woman holds you in her arms, and rubs her hands up and down your back. One drifts up to thread her fingers into your hair, though she lets you withdraw.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks at the stygian-haired young woman wistfully.
Gently, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I've resigned to getting them anyway."
Nibbling on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"So where does it itch?"
Lifting a vine-inked hand to her cheek and shaking her head, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"All over. When they bite my feet, my feet do, when they bite the back of my head, my head does, when they bite my armpits, they do, and down there...."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette winces.
Quietly, you say, in sirihish:
"I'm kinda relieved they seem content to bite my armpits most of all."
Guiding you to a grey, bone-framed bed, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Sit. Sit."
You sit on a grey, bone-framed bed, wandering over after a moment as she looks up at the stygian-haired young woman.
Nose wrinkling, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I'll have to get rid of that blanket, but that's okay. It has everyone's cum on it anyway."
Kneeling in front of you, the stygian-haired young woman sits down, then gently takes your foot. Carefully, she tries to pull the shoes from your feet.
Chewing on the inside of her lip, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I think it's probably good that you and Ra'al are together. Or, rather... that was the impression he left me with when I spoke to him. I think you're more suited to each other. Mostly I.."
You stop using your pair of shiny black leather shoes, the small things being tugged off easily.
Shaking her head from side to side, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"I'm not with anyone, Emmie. When did he tell you this?"
Shaking her head, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I just wanted to escape the hurt and the pain and the stupidity of everyone stabbing each other in the heart and calling it love, and I felt so empty, like nobody cared if I lived or I died and then..."
The stygian-haired young woman lifts one of your feet and looks it over. She brushes her fingertips over the heel, along the sole, and spreads the toes to peek between them.
Looking down at herself, ignoring the stygian-haired young woman's question for now, you say, in sirihish:
"Mostly I... I don't know. I wanted a dress and then he told me I was beautiful and he wanted me and appreciated me."
Smiling affectionately, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I... understand. I really do."
Tears rolling down her cheeks as she smiles faintly, you say, in sirihish:
"So... I let him have me, and it was really good, until afterwards, with the itching."
No bites appear between the rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's toes, though the skin around her ankles seems peppered with tiny bumps from bites.
Laying a soft kiss to the top of your foot, while looking up at you, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I'm sorry, Emmie. You're not getting very good luck with lovers, between the three of us."
Her shoulders sagging a little as she looks at her, smiling lopsidedly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Neither are you, I guess. I just... the more I see of what a lover is, the more I think..."
Shaking her head, you say, in sirihish:
"I really, really need to care a lot about someone... or hate them. A lot. to bring something like myself on them."
A little laugh escapes the rawboned, slate-eyed brunette.
Gently, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I've had the most amazing luck with lovers. I got you, didn't I? You were the first and only person to ever really make me... feel that way."
The stygian-haired young woman rises to her feet, and holds her hands out to you, palms upturned.
The stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"Can I have your shoes?"
Nodding softly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Yeah... here."
You give your pair of shiny black leather shoes to the stygian-haired young woman, pulling them out from under the edge of the bed with her big toes and sliding them out to her.
Nose wrinkling, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I've never seen bites like these before. Sand fleas only bite the genitals, and stay in the hair there. Kank fleas are all over, but they don't bite. They burrow under the skin."
Blushing slightly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Might be kankfleas. I honestly don't know. I don't see any bugs, I just feel them biting me. It makes me feel gross."
Looking at her for a long while, you ask the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Do you mean that... about how I made you feel?"
The stygian-haired young woman takes her pair of shiny black leather shoes over to a blue-striped keg, and dips them in. After holding them in there for a few seconds, she pulls them out and then sets them nearby.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette watches the stygian-haired young woman curiously.
The stygian-haired young woman pours purplish liquid from a blue-striped keg on a pair of shiny black leather shoes.
Nothing happens.
Beside a blue-striped keg, the stygian-haired young woman drops her pair of shiny black leather shoes.
Turning back to you, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Kank fleas don't normally come from people. They come from animals, like beetles and stuff. I also don't see any of them wriggling beneath the skin, so... I don't know. That's tricky."
Quietly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I got four handfuls of glypah leaves in this bag. I dunno who he talked to, but they told him that glypah would get rid of the things."
Pursing her lips, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"Can I see them?"
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette nods softly.
You get your handful of bitter smelling leaves from your large bag.
You give your handful of bitter smelling leaves to the stygian-haired young woman, handing over a palmful.
You drop your large bag, sitting the bag with the other handfuls on the top inside it just before her.
Shown to the room as:
A large bag is lying here.
The stygian-haired young woman pinches the leaves between her fingers, and rolls them back and forth.
Quietly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"He told me he was with you, and he meant nothing to you, and that you thought I was upstairs fucking him when I was upstairs smoking spice with him when you came in, and just... a lot of stuff."
Her eyes shimmering briefly with tears, you say, in sirihish:
"He laughed when I came to ask him if he could help me get rid of the things."
Breaking her silence, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"And yes, I said what I mean. You're the only person but me who has made me come. I love you. I would be happy to just hold you, all day."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks mortified.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman lifts her gaze from the leaves to you, sympathetic.
The stygian-haired young woman says, in sirihish:
"I think that these are for kank fleas, but I'm not sure that's what you have. Maybe."
Nibbling on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"You both got them at the same time?"
Blinking and giving her a warm smile, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I love you, too. I wish I could give you everything I feel like you need. You make my heart so full of love."
Nodding softly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Yeah... we went and... laid on the rug and fooled around, and then... we left once we were done, went seperate ways, and he found my mind to tell me he could never do that again. He thought I cursed him."
Adding, after a moment, the stygian-haired young woman says, in sirihish:
"No, these are for sand fleas. Bimbal is for kank flees. I-"
Tightly pursing her lips, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Let me... try something."
Shaking her head, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"He said it felt like something was biting his crotch, and I said, you know, that sounds like fleas and not a curse, then I felt something bite my ankle."
Interrupting herself to offer her a nod, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Alright... anything."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks at the stygian-haired young woman for a long moment.
After a pause, tone uncertain, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I... I want to ask who he is, but I don't want to know at the same time."
The stygian-haired young woman shakes the thought away, and reaches out. She lays one hand to the top of your head, and stretches the other out before her, fingers splayed, palm down.
The air near the stygian-haired young woman grows dark as she starts an incantation.
After a moment, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I couldn't tell you because I don't want there to be a chance of his life being ruined, and we both know there could be mindworms, shadow witches, or even a wind witch hidden somewhere listening."
Quietly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I want to say, but he's not gemmed, so it would only be a world full of trouble for both of us."
Something small bites your neck, and you grunt as you shake your head!
[85/87|102/111|90/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|late morning|Cingel]
Wrinkling her nose as her hand falls away, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Well, it was worth a shot... You're definitely not cursed. And don't worry, Emmie. I won't ask. "
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette grimaces, lifting a hand to her neck to rub at it as it's bit, her head giving a brief involuntary shake.
Smiling sadly, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"Still biting?"
Nodding a few times, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Yeah. I tried to get Mimintia the herbalist to tell me how to use the glypah to get rid of them. For like a day and a half. But I might as well have went in cloaked with magick for all the mind she paid me."
[86/87|102/111|90/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|late morning|Cingel]
You suffer from use of the Way.
Something small nips on your back!
[82/87|102/111|86/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|late morning|Cingel]
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette jumps, back arching as she lets out a yelp, hand running up to scratch furiously at her back.
[84/87|102/111|90/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|late morning|Cingel]
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's eyes shimmer with unspent tears of pain and humiliation.
[85/87|102/111|90/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|late morning|Cingel]
The stygian-haired young woman moves to a squat bone dresser and kneels, rummaging through her things.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her bone-studded backpack from a squat bone dresser.
Outside the window, on the road below, a sharp-eyed female prostitute has arrived from the east.
The stygian-haired young woman opens her bone-studded backpack.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her white cloth bandage from her bone-studded backpack.
The stygian-haired young woman puts her bone-studded backpack into a squat bone dresser.
The stygian-haired young woman pinches her handful of bitter smelling leaves a few times, and presses them lightly to her white cloth bandage, then gives a side-to-side shake of her head.
The stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I can't apply them with a bandage. Not sappy enough."
Sucking at her lower lip and nodding softly, you ask the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Um... could you mix two of them together into a tablet? Does... would that work?"
Nibbling on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"That's what I was going to try next..."
Moving to your side, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Or maybe I would just rub the paste there. I've heard, for sand fleas, you rub something really strong that isn't alcohol on the area. Like cleaning fluid, or... well, glypah, I guess."
Kneeling before you, the stygian-haired young woman sits down.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her handful of bitter smelling leaves from a large bag.
Gesturing to the bag on the floor, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Would you like to get another handful of them? I can grab them for you, if you want? I dunno. Yeah, I imagine cleaning fluid would burn my skin off. Ah.."
The stygian-haired young woman gets her handful of bitter smelling leaves from a large bag.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her handful of bitter smelling leaves from a large bag.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette nods to herself as the leaves are grabbed.
Exhaling slowly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Okay. Lets see. Uhm... Well, I don't know if I could make a salve out of these. Maybe if I had a little more leaves..."
The stygian-haired young woman begins to brew a handful of bitter smelling leaves and a handful of bitter smelling leaves into a tablet.
As she starts to mash some of the leaves together in her palm, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I guess there are a couple things that I could try. Lets start with a tablet."
Looking down at her palm, the question casual, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"Do you think that we could be happy, if we were together?"
Nodding softly as she looks at the tablet being mashed together, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Alright. I trust you. Thank you so much, Sybelle... thank you."
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman peeks up at you through the fringe of her lashes, intermittently.
Looking down thoughtfully, you say, in sirihish:
"I want to think so. I just... there has been so much hurt that... I can't think of a single place we have been happy where there has not also been tears. And I think that you and I both deserve much more joy than sorrow."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette gives the stygian-haired young woman a look of wistful, sorrowful love.
Chewing on her lower lip, the words coming as though a statement of a fact, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"So... you... don't want to be with me, now."
The stygian-haired young woman mixes a handful of bitter smelling leaves and a handful of bitter smelling leaves together.
The stygian-haired young woman makes a grainy yellow tablet.
The stygian-haired young woman presses the crushed plants together into a small shape. She packs it tightly, pinching it again and again with her fingers.
Lifting her grainy yellow tablet to you, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Try it."
Something small bites your ankle, and you shake your foot!
Speaking softly as she looks at her, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I want to not be alone. I want you to be happy. I want to be happy. I don't... I don't want to think about all the pain anymore, though. It is killing all of the joy in me."
The stygian-haired young woman gives you her grainy yellow tablet.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette grimaces, her foot shaking involuntarily as her ankle is bit.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman swallows, subtly.
You swallow your grainy yellow tablet, popping it between her lips.
Reaching out to try and take her hand and lift it to her lips, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I love you. I hate me."
Nodding her head a few times, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I understand. I hope... I hope that you find what makes you happy, Emmie. I really do. I love you."
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman's features tighten, and her eyes become glassy and moist.
The words barely audible as she brushes her lips across her skin, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I will do my best to make you happy. But if I cannot escape all the sorrows... the happiness will be all yours, and none of it mine."
Closing her eyes as her hand is lifted to your lips, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Don't hate you. You're too wonderful to hate."
Something small nips you on the back of the head!
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette grimaces and holds a hand up to her head to scratch at the back of it furiously.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman's lips faintly part, and her lashes lift just a bit.
Outside the window, on the road below, the tall, brown-haired man has arrived from the west.
Laughing and crying as impotent anger and frustration wrinkle her features, you say, in sirihish:
"I really thought that that would work."
After brushing her fingertips lightly to your lips, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"It hurts that I know I'll never be able to give you what you want, and need. I- here. I have a few more ideas."
The stygian-haired young woman draws her hand back and clears her throat, refocusing her attention onto a squat bone dresser again.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman blinks away her budding tears and replaces them with a determined gaze.
The stygian-haired young woman stands up.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her glass vial from her bone-studded backpack.
The stygian-haired young woman sits down, on the ground before you.
The stygian-haired young woman begins to brew a handful of bitter smelling leaves and a handful of bitter smelling leaves into a vial.
Nodding softly, slowly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Sybelle... it is... I meant it. I cannot.... I cannot keep hurting you without hating myself, and I cannot be honest with you without hurting you. I will gladly live...whatever life you like, though..."
Softly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"If it will make you happy, I will be here for you every day of your life. You mean so much to me, I want you to be happy so badly. I feel like if there is any good that could come from all of the hurt, it would be you smiling."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's voice cracks a little.
The stygian-haired young woman mashes the leaves together, and then crams them into her glass vial, one by one. She dribbles some spit into the vial, and then closes it with her thumb. Finally, she shakes it up and down, vigorously.
Reassuringly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"You don't hurt me, Emmie. I just..."
Notes of desperation in her voice, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"If I were a man, this would be so easy. I could just take you and make you mine, and we would be happy together. It would be so simple then. You would love me so much."
The stygian-haired young woman exhales and looks back to her vial as she shakes it up and down, the fluids inside mixing together.
The stygian-haired young woman mixes a handful of bitter smelling leaves and a handful of bitter smelling leaves together.
The stygian-haired young woman makes a pallid yellow vial.
Quietly, looking toward the barred window, you say, in sirihish:
"It's not... no. No. I do love you. SO much. And I am yours if you want me. It's just... I have so many messy, disturbing feelings for you that I can't sort out. Love, hope, fear, guilt, sorrow..."
As she starts to drizzle the mixed liquid onto your legs, rubbing it in to the bitten areas, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"Would you be happy? Really, and truly, and genuinely Emmie. Could you live with me?"
Her hands all business, as she gazes up to you, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"A month? A year? Five years? Ten years? Could you still be happy then, knowing what I'll never be able to give you?"
Looking down, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"The reason why the... why it was so good... was because of the fact that I did not care about his feelings being hurt. I did not need to ask myself what I meant. I did not... it was nothing. It was masturbating with a man."
The stygian-haired young woman gives you her pallid yellow vial.
The stygian-haired young woman says, out of character:
"I guess try applying and using?"
Sighing with relief at the liquid rubbed over her legs, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"If I knew that you would be joyous. That you would not worry if I was gone for a week just laughing and dancing with the grasses, if I...Yes, I think I could."
You say, out of character:
"apply self? never used a vial before."
You say, out of character:
"well, a brewed vial. does it work like perfume? use vial self?"
You stand up from a grey, bone-framed bed.
The stygian-haired young woman says, out of character:
"I can't remember. Brewed vials are really weird, but try using it like perfume first?"
You can't hold this.
You do not hold that item in your hand.
Sorry, you cannot do that here.
No help topic for 'vial'.
[87/87|102/111|87/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[standing|very light|early afternoon|Cingel]
Use (Gameplay)
This command is employed under special circumstances, such as in the
operation of a tool, piece of equipment, or signet ring.
Syntax:
use <tool or equipment> <object>
Example:
> use sift deposit
(If your character has a sand-sift, and is standing in the same location
as a deposit of spice, this will allow him/her to sift the sand for
spice.)
> use axe
(If your character has a lumber axe and is standing in the same location
as a grove of trees or a forest, this will allow him/her to attempt to
chop a tree down to get a log.)
> use ring scroll
(If your character is wearing a signet ring and has a sealable scroll in
their inventory, it will leave an impression of the ring in wax.)
See also:
spice, wood
[87/87|102/111|88/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[standing|very light|early afternoon|Cingel]
Quaff (Gameplay)
This command will cause your character to consume the named potion or
potion-fruit. All effects of that potion will take effect immediately. The
potion must be in your inventory or in one of your character's hands at the
time the command is used.
Syntax:
quaff <object>
Example:
> quaff potion
See also:
drink, sip
You can only quaff potions.
It's empty already.
You can't wield that.
You say, out of character:
"um... can't wield or hold it, use self, apply self, drink vial, or quaff vial. I'm so sorry *awkward* Do you have any other syntax guesses?"
The stygian-haired young woman says, out of character:
"They work just like tablets, so I was hoping that they had some secret use instead of just being pointless redundancy."
Your stomach refuses to eat that!
You say, out of character:
"oh blah. hmm. I have no clue. this is particularly embarassing. I even tried to eat it, much to the refusal of her stomach."
The stygian-haired young woman says, out of character:
"Yeah! The code is being sort of weird about this. You might just have to RP it and then write in ask that they remove it, or at least give you more details about her symptoms."
You say, out of character:
"Yeah, waiting on a response to a request about it still, but I'll include the log here and hold onto the vial until I hear something back from somewhere about how to use it at the least."
You sit on a grey, bone-framed bed.
Her expression soft, as she rubs the chalky-yellow solution into the bites on your calves, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I love you, Emmie. I want to be around you, but not if it hurts you. I just... like being around you. I like holding you."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette takes what's left in the vial and rubs it into her scalp and through her hair, all up and down her neck.
Her voice quieting as she looks down to your foot, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"When I just wrap my arms around you, and lean into you, I feel so at peace. I don't know how to explain it."
Pausing her application of the liquid in the vial, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I love holding you and being held, and being around you. I want to be ABLE to help you feel at peace. Thinking about you happy... makes me so much happier than thinking about me happy."
Unless stopped the stygian-haired young woman's hands even drift under your dress, spreading the chalky solution to all areas of your body, though she is careful, professional, and gentle.
Exhaling slowly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Okay, take the dress off. I want to dip it in the cleaning solution too."
You stop using your bare-shouldered, girdled golden dress, pulling it up over her head unself-consciously to show the tiny bites all over her.
You give your bare-shouldered, girdled golden dress to the stygian-haired young woman, careful to keep it from brushing her clothes with it.
The stygian-haired young woman says, out of character:
"Btw she's been naked this entire time -- not sure if you noticed!"
Nodding softly as she looks down at herself for a moment, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I feel so itchy and gross."
You say, out of character:
"I didn't. wow. the one time I don't use look. that's what I get."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette offers the stygian-haired young woman a warm smile.
Folding her bare-shouldered, girdled golden dress over her arm, careful not to let it brush the hair on her scalp or atop her mons, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"You're never gross. You're... like a fresh breeze. You even smell like flowers when you come."
The stygian-haired young woman stands up.
Gesturing to her bag, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I got a clean robe in there I bought but never put on so that if I could get rid of 'em, I'd have something to put on until I got my clothes cleaned."
At the stygian-haired young woman's last few words, the rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's cheeks blush the same pymlithe blossom pink as the peaks of her modest breasts.
The stygian-haired young woman moves to a blue-striped keg and dips her bare-shouldered, girdled golden dress into it, a few times. She draws it out, gives it a little shake, and then drapes it next to a pair of shiny black leather shoes.
The stygian-haired young woman pours purplish liquid from a blue-striped keg on a bare-shouldered, girdled golden dress.
Nothing happens.
Something small bites your neck, and you grunt as you shake your head!
The stygian-haired young woman looks down at you.
Briefly pursing her lips as she looks you over, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Okay, so, your clothes should be free of them if they're sand fleas..."
Nodding softly as she looks down at herself, you ask the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"What else might they be, do you think?"
Chewing on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"How long have you had them?"
The stygian-haired young woman looks to you, studiously, and exhales through her nose in frustration.
Softly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"About a week."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks down at herself, brows drawing together.
Sucking on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"That rules out cilop's kiss, which is good. That can be lethal."
Nodding softly as she lifts a hand to scratch behind her ear, you ask the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I think it was sand fleas. I'm not positive, but I think so. Maybe it's just gonna take a few days for them to all smother?"
Uncertainly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Maybe. I think they're sand fleas, too. Maybe they're just confused because you keep yourself so neat down there, and now they're biting all over."
The stygian-haired young woman crosses back to a squat bone dresser and rummages through.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her small jar of scented ointment from her bone-studded backpack.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette tips your pallid yellow vial onto its side, pouring a bit more from inside it onto her hand, then slathering it up and down the length of her arms, under her armpits and then high between her shoulderblades.
Holding your pallid yellow vial out with a self-conscious blush, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Could... you rub it across my back? I can't... reach. I don't want to miss a spot trying to do it with wind hands, you know."
Gently, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"At dawn I'll run and get some bimbal. I can make a salve and try treating your ankles. If it's kank fleas, I'll treat you everywhere for them."
Expression softened by your request, the stygian-haired young woman sits on a grey, bone-framed bed, then scoots until she's behind you.
You give your pallid yellow vial to the stygian-haired young woman, offering it out to her as she bites her lip.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, as she dribbles the chalky yellow fluid across your back:
"Of course. It's what friends are for. Lovers, too, I guess. I don't know what to call us."
The stygian-haired young woman rubs the fluid into your back with a soft, feather-touched tenderness. Both of her hands spread it around, from the small of your back to the tops of your shoulders.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette shivers all over at the stygian-haired young woman's hands on her back.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, blushing slightly as she looks down at the bed:
"Can't we just be... Emmie that loves Sybelle, and Sybelle who loves her Emmie? And be there for each other to try and make each other happy... and sometimes make each other feel good, if that's..."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, breathlessly:
"... that's what you want?"
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks up at the stygian-haired young woman through her lashes as she glances over her shoulders, the teardrops of her earings and necklace shimmering in the dying light through the window like actual fresh-spilled tears.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, nodding her head, gently, as she leans in to press a hug against your back:
"Okay. We can be that. I... I think I would like to make you feel good, some time. I never got to. I mean, if you wanted to."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, adding, tone almost vulnerable:
"I'll even wash my mouth clean so my lips aren't green, if you'd like."
The stygian-haired young woman swallows, abruptly, and returns her attention to spreading the solution across your back.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking down as she leans back just slightly into the stygian-haired young woman's hug and shaking her head:
"I love you. I love the way your lips feel, and I... I want to say yes, but I'm terrified of saying yes."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"*abject fear* Every time... someone makes me feel good, something horrible happens, and they leave or hate me, and the joy ends."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, shaking her head back and forth:
"I won't leave you, Emmie. You're going to have to chase me off with a stick or something."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, nose wrinkling as she smiles, involuntarily:
"Sand fleas certainly aren't doing the trick."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, giving the stygian-haired young woman a shy smile as she looks over her shoulder:
"I would never chase you with a stick. I don't think you'd enjoy it half as much as you think you would."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"I think you'd prefer to outrun an avalanche of petals and silk and sweet smelling hair and tender lips and shimmering, dark-lashed eyes."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette smiles up at the stygian-haired young woman through her lashes.
You feel almost not gross.
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"*A faint, comforting warmth, suddenly cut off by a sudden stab of surprise and shock* I- you're so wicked!"
[87/87|102/111|78/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|dusk|Cingel]
Something small nips you in the armpit, and you wince involuntarily!
The stygian-haired young woman blushes, and presses her warmed cheek to your shoulder. After, she laughs softly, but your wince draws her out of that mirthful expression.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, uncertainly:
"Are you okay?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, shaking her head softly:
"My underarms... I... those damn things, I told you they like to bite me there."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette scratches furiously at her armpit.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, holding out her hand:
"Will you pour a little more in my hand please, so I can rub it under them?"
Without thinking, the stygian-haired young woman slips her hands under your underarms and starts to spread what remains of the chalky-yellow substance there with little movements of the tips of her fingers.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette sighs softly and relaxes a little more.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, quietly, closing her eyes:
"Save... please try and save at least a little for my...."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's eyes draw to her shaved sex.
Laying it back on your thigh, the stygian-haired young woman gives you her pallid yellow vial.
This tiny vial is made of glass, tightly stoppered with a waxen cap. The
liquid inside is a chalky, sickly yellow.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, affectionately, as she shifts her seated position:
"Okay. Do you want to do it, or would you rather that I... I mean, if you wanted me to I would. It's not like I haven't touched it before."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, uncertainly:
"But at the same time..."
Something small nips you in the armpit, and you wince involuntarily!
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette tips her pinky finger into the vial, scooping out the remnants of the liquid within and then lays back, facing away from the stygian-haired young woman so she doesn't wallow all over her, covered in flea bites and chalky liquid.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, that uncertainty growing:
"Should I close my eyes? I'm not sure what to do."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, lifting her hand to offer the remnants of the vial to the stygian-haired young woman from her finger:
"I can... I would... if you wanted, but... I would rather it be me, because I feel gross right now."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, shaking her head softly:
"No. I liked it a lot when you touched me there before, that one time. I just... I'm putting medicine on my bits because I slummed it with some dirty soldier because I was so lonely. I don't want..."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, the uncertainty melting away, replaced by tenderness:
"I understand. I wouldn't want to mix intimate touch and... ickiness. But at the same time, I wasn't sure if you would find it comforting."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, wrinkling her nose:
"I don't want to be thinking about that when you're touching me. It makes me feel disgusting, and I would like not to be associating something that felt so good with something that feels so awful."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette scoops a third of the mixture off onto her mons, using her the tips of the fingers of her other hand to slowly rub it into the skin.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, chewing slowly on her lower lip:
"Okay. I'm going to pull back, now. But I'm here if you need a hug okay?"
The stygian-haired young woman withdraws from you, leaning away and shifting onto a different set of straps so that her presence isn't felt at all.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman actually holds her breath, too.
After a few moments, the rawboned, slate-eyed brunette scoops off another third, nodding softly at the stygian-haired young woman, as she parts her labia with the thumb and forefinger, pinky held out with the last of the mixture on it still, and uses her other hand to slowly rub it in.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's fingers move with a slow, methodic motion, like someone wiping a dish with a dry rag, careful not to miss a lip or curve or speck of space across the area.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman's gaze roams awkwardly about the room, and then exhales slowly through her nose as if releasing a held breath.
Finally, the rawboned, slate-eyed brunette lifts her hips and starts to rub the last of the ointment-mixture into the skin behind her sex and up the cleft of her buttocks, smearing it outward as she props her hips off the bed.
The stygian-haired young woman just sort of awkwardly looks around the room, barely even breathing if at all, remaining as silent as a shadow.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, lowering her hips again and looking over at the stygian-haired young woman with a slight tilt of her head, her vine-inked fingers interlacing atop her solar plexus as she looks at her:
"I do not know how I got so lucky as to have met you, but I love you."
The stygian-haired young woman looks back to you when addressed. Her lips blossom with a smile, and her gaze fixes on you.
Her words soft, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I didn't notice you were looking so... understandably... awkward. But you know, if I had... I would have like... tried to move off the bed or give you space or something. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."
You say, in sirihish:
"More uncomfortable than necessary."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"I get the feeling like you're uncomfortable so much of the time, like you always feel like you're seperate from the people and rest of the world around you."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, shaking her head from side to side:
"Oh, no. It's fine. I mean, if it was really bad I could have stepped out. I just didn't know what to d-"
Trying to lay a hand on her knee gently, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"Are you? Do you?"
The stygian-haired young woman's features tighten with a wince, as though someone just drove something into her gut. After a few moments of looking as if she were about to cry, she bites hard at her lower lip, and nods her head to you.
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"I feel like I've known you since before I was born, and like even though there are so many things you can't or won't say, like I just... have these feelings about you, like I'm going crazy."
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman's eyes betray a vulnerability that cuts to the bone.
Her fingers slowly drawing back and forth across her knee, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Okay... Sybelle... Please... don't ever feel the need to hide yourself from me. Don't feel like I will hate you or judge you. I love you. You bring me joy."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, laying her hand onto your hand, stilling the fingers but squeezing them affectionately:
"I've always felt disconnected from everyone else. Separate. As if I'm just part of the background. Like... well, a shadow."
Drawing her hand to her lips to gently kiss the length of each of her fingers before turning her hand over to kiss her palm, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"You're not alone. You're not seperate. And you are not crazy. I see you."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, chewing on her lower lip:
"I..."
Eyes warm, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"And you are the most beautiful light I've ever seen."
The stygian-haired young woman closes her eyes and sighs, the sound warm, while her shoulders slump. Under your touch any tension or unease just sloughs from her posture and features, melting away into a contented, peaceful expression.
Splaying, and wiggling her fingers, the stygian-haired young woman whispers to you, in sirihish:
"I love when you kiss my fingers like that. Oh, Emmie... I love you."
You feel so unbelievably happy that she's able to make this woman who she loves so much feel so much better. Feel like it makes her whole world better.
Her eyes warm and full of love as they rest on her, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I would kiss you properly, but I'm really trying to not give you fleas, even though you've resigned yourself to getting them."
The stygian-haired young woman lightly cups her palm to your cheek, after it is kissed, and brushes her thumb across the bottom curve of your lower lip.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, smiling softly:
"I have so much hair. I'm surprised they haven't jumped onto me. Maybe they can't see me, either."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette cups the outside of the stygian-haired young woman's hand with her other hand, and lightly kisses the pad of her thumb.
Smiling faintly as she looks up at her, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"All they see is people miserable, I'd rather they didn't see you, knowing what follows."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette gives the stygian-haired young woman a wink.
The words spilling slowly, and involuntarily from her lips like sap leaking from a leaf, the stygian-haired young woman whispers to you, in sirihish:
"I want to be with you. I want to be with you, Emmie. I don't care what that entails, or what I have to do. I just... want to be with you."
Smiling genuinely as she looks up at her, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I love you too, Sybelle. I want to share my life with you and make you happy, and make you feel cherished and special and loved. I may... I may want another mate at some point."
Kissing her fingertips gently, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"But it is not because I don't love you. It is not because you are not enough. It is because sometimes I love flowers, but sometimes I love beautiful gemstones as well."
Softly, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I want you to know that now, and to know that I do not have anyone in mind. I tell you this so that if it ever comes to pass, you do not have to hurt or ask yourself if it is you, or if it because you are not what I want."
Pushing up to her elbows to try and kiss the flesh over her heart, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I love you and I want you always. But this last thing that happened, with you, me, and Ra'al, it was destructive. It nearly killed all of us."
Looking up through her lashes, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I want... someone to give and give and give to me, all the time, and it's not fair to ask that of one person all the time. It's not right, it's not fair, and it's not healthy."
You whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"But it is what I need."
Looking at her, speaking softly before going quiet, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"Is... would you be alright with that? I do not want to hurt you, but sometimes hurt is inevitable, and it's just a question of how much."
Tone hushed, gaze accepting and warm, the stygian-haired young woman whispers to you, in sirihish:
"If I never have sex again, that's okay. I... I have fingers, and that's enough for me. If you want to have sex with other people, that's okay too. I just want... this. This. Right now."
Looking up at her, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"And if we are together for a long time, it is bound to happen on occasion, but I would rather... oh... "
Looking into your eyes, the stygian-haired young woman whispers to you, in sirihish:
"Can we keep this? Please? I don't want to lose this, what we have."
Something small nips on your back!
Smiling genuinely as she looks at her, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I want for you to find something that makes you feel wonderful. Something that is just for you. Whether it is arranging flowers or eating candy from a gypsy's breasts."
Nodding softly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I promise, you will never lose this. I could not stop loving you if I tried. I just want... for you to have something that is uniquely for you, and brings you joy even when I am not around."
Sheepishly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I found something that makes me feel wonderful, but you can't trap the wind. It goes where it goes, and all I can do is hope that it kisses my cheeks again some day."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's eyes rest on the stygian-haired young woman, warm, loving, and affectionate.
Nibbling on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"I... Can I confess something?"
Softly, clicking her tongue, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Anything. I do want you to find something other than me, though. Because one day, the sands will take me. It's inevitable, it happens to us all. And I want you to have something you know will still make..."
You say, in sirihish:
"you happy, even when I am not there to do it."
Something small nips you on the back of the head!
Nodding her head, carefully, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I know, Emmie. I know that... I'll never get to have you in the way that would make me most happy. I'm okay with that, because I know it would make you unhappy."
Chewing on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Okay. My confession. When we were together, last... I looked at your face while it happened, and I... I wanted that, what you had. I could feel it in every part of me."
Looking awkwardly aside, gaze roaming the floor and then the wall, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I just... wanted it. I don't know how to explain it. It was a yearning. Now, every time you talk about it, I feel that again."
Uncertainly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"And I don't know what to do."
Tilting her head to the side, you ask the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"An orgasm? Sex with a beautiful woman and a beautiful man? To look into the eyes of the most beautiful woman in the world while you feel yourself climax?"
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's eyes rest on the stygian-haired young woman, warm and full of love.
Her nose wrinkling, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I... well, I always want the third, of course. But I meant... to feel what it's like. To have someone -inside- of me. Almost like they're a part of me."
Sucking briefly on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"You looked so... satisfied. I knew what would happen after, as soon as I saw your face. It's why I almost started crying."
Nodding softly as she looks down, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I was jealous when it happened, because I would never be able to put the core of who I am inside the core of who you are that way. I don't want to be a man, but it just..."
Her voice quieting, hushed and small, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"It's why I wanted to end things on good terms. I felt..."
Softly, shaking her head, you say, in sirihish:
"I did not want him to be able to do that to both of us and me love you so much and all I could do was kiss you all over."
Something small bites your neck, and you grunt as you shake your head!
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, looking to your eyes:
"Inadequa-"
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, exhaling a soft sigh, shaking her head:
"They're still biting?"
You say, out of character:
"I'm not sure if they strictly should be or not. if it's just no one up there removing the script or what."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, scratching softly:
"It might just be old itches, but all the same... I would like to not... get too close... until I stop itching. Because I don't want you to ever have to feel this gross."
The stygian-haired young woman says, out of character:
"Well, if that cures it you can always say that it just took a while to kill them off =)"
Nodding her head once, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Okay. Are you hungry? I'm -starving-. I'm getting dizzy, actually... so let me get some food, and I'll make the salve and treat your ankle for kank fleas just incase."
You send this message to the staff:
"When the flea script was added apparently glypah was given as the cure. Managed to obtain some and had someone brew it into a tablet which she ate, she washed everything she owned, and then the woman made a vial of oil and rubbed it all..."
You send this message to the staff:
"all over her to try and smother the things off. If that is the way to get the fleas off, she has done it, can the script please be removed? I still have the vial in her inventory because I can't figure out syntax to use it, too."
Smiling affectionately as she gives a faint nod, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I am hungry, actually... thank you."
Stepping into it, the stygian-haired young woman wears her gauzy green cotton skirt on her legs, then wiggles her hips as she draws it up to her waist.
Stepping into them, one at a time, the stygian-haired young woman slips her feet into her pair of high, polished black leather boots.
Looking down and shaking her head, you say, in sirihish:
"Bran got rid ofhalf the sids I had to go and... let me see..."
You get your pile of allanaki coins from your translucent beaded purse.
There were 26 coins.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her green cotton blouse from a squat bone dresser.
Outside the window, on the road below, the tall male wearing a blue sandcloth veil has arrived from the west, moving slowly, gaze downcast.
Lifting a paltry handful of coins, you ask the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Here's like half a half a small?"
Pulling it down over her chest, the stygian-haired young woman wears her green cotton blouse on her body.
Outside the window, on the road below, moving slowly, gaze downcast, the tall male wearing a blue sandcloth veil walks east.
Shaking her head, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Keep it. I have plenty of money. When you're feeling better, you can pay me by kissing my fingers again. If, I mean, if that's something you would be okay with."
The stygian-haired young woman gets her hooded grey sandcloth shawl from a squat bone dresser.
The stygian-haired young woman plucks her small jar of scented ointment from a squat bone dresser, where she left it.
A staff member sends:
"Not really familiar with what should be used to cure it so I would recommend waiting until your request on this is reviewed."
Looking up at her her eyes sincere, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I want you to be happy. It will not make me unhappy to make you feel good. I love you. And it brings me great joy to make you feel good."
Holding up her small jar of scented ointment, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"If that doesn't work, we can try this one, but I want to see if these treatments work first."
The stygian-haired young woman wears her hooded grey sandcloth shawl about her body.
Crossing over to the door, looking lovingly back at you, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"I... When I get back, will you tell me what it feels like?"
Nodding softly as she looks down at herself, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Do you mind terribly if I stay here? I've been avoiding people since it happened. I don't want to give anyone critters."
Fondly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Of course. I'd prefer it, actually. You'll be safer, I think."
Nodding softly, eyes warm, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Absolutely."
You smile.
Waving over her shoulder, the stygian-haired young woman walks north.
Something small bites your ankle, and you shake your foot!
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette screeches and darts a hand down to scratch furiously at her ankle.
Outside the window, on the road below, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak has arrived from the east, moving slowly, gaze downcast.
Outside the window, on the road below, moving slowly, gaze downcast, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak walks west.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette chews on her lower lip.
Something small bites your ankle, and you shake your foot!
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl opens the door from the other side.
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl closes the door.
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl locks the door with a small, simple bone key.
Turning about, and slumping her plain bag of cloth onto the ground, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"Kaji was murdered."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette offers the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl a faint smile, still sitting naked on the bed in the position she was in before she left her.
Chewing on her lower lip, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl asks you, in sirihish:
"There have been attacks on gemmers lately. Be careful, okay?"
As she toes her plain bag of cloth closer to you, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"I... found this. I'll taste it first to see if it's poisoned, but it looks really yummy."
Lifting a brow, you say to the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl, in sirihish:
"Kaji wasn't murdered. Ask Moraz. Kaji was found dead in the sands with all his things still on him. Moraz said he thought it was a bug."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks a little confused.
Her brows lifting, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"Really? Ra'al just told me that... I, well, I guess he didn't say he was murdered. Just that he died and that there have been attacks."
Shaking her head as she lays her roasted reddish root and her roasted black-fleshed tuber before you, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl asks you, in sirihish:
"Just be careful anyway, okay?"
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl gives you her roasted black-fleshed tuber.
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl gives you her roasted reddish root.
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl gets her ripe jallal fruit from a plain bag of cloth.
Nibbling on it, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl takes a bite of her ripe jallal fruit.
Frowning to herself, you ask the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl, in sirihish:
"Were... you going to kill yourself? Because you thought I was upstairs kanking Ra'al when I was up there to deliver spice to him?"
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks suspiciously toward the road.
Sucking on her lower lip, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"I... no. I mean... I- I thought about it..."
Gaze turning to the ground, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"He asked me to get his things then told me to wait, because he was busy. And I just got this... feeling. So I asked if he was with you, and he didn't answer. And then I asked you, and you... answered the way..."
As she lifts her half eaten ripe jallal fruit to her face, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"... that you did. And I just thought... I don't know. I ran back here. I still had Ra'al's fruit, and no tablets. I was eating the last of my fruit and thought it would be so easy to just take a bite."
Looking down herself, you say to the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl, in sirihish:
"I didn't say anything because I felt that if you knew I was up there your mind, like mine would have, would go to the worst possible option."
Quietly, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"It was already going there."
Beside you, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl sits on a grey, bone-framed bed.
Looking at her, you say to the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl, in sirihish:
"I didn't want you thinking that I would do something like that to you. I have laid with him one time. And during it, I was with you."
At your seat, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says in sirihish, turning her half eaten ripe jallal fruit over in her hand:
"I believe you, Emmie. I do."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks at the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl, the sincerity in her gaze unwavering.
You eat your roasted black-fleshed tuber, choking it down quickly.
You are very hungry.
You eat your roasted reddish root, ravenous.
You are hungry.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, shaking her head as her stomach growls softly:
"Honestly... "
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl eats a portion of her half eaten ripe jallal fruit.
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"Ra'al is really... you gave me more pleasure than he did. It was just the intimacy of having him inside of me that was overwhelming."
At your seat, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says in sirihish, smiling softly to you, almost embarrassed:
"I... really?"
Almost embarrassed becomes a quite blatant embarrassment, as pink creeps across the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl's cheeks.
Brushing the shawl away from her hair, the stygian-haired young woman lowers the hood of her hooded grey sandcloth shawl.
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"(vaguely) The sex I had with the commoner was better than the sex Ra'al gave me. He made me feel good with his mouth and then laid me down and pinned me to the ground and just... kept filling up all the hurts and emptiness with something delicious"
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman presses her knees together.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling faintly as she nods at the stygian-haired young woman:
"I swear it. If you'd not had your hands on me, I would not have peaked."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette speaks earnestly.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, shifting atop the bed:
"I... I'm glad, Emmie. That..."
Taking a hasty bite, the stygian-haired young woman eats a portion of her small portion of a ripe jallal fruit.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman's lips curve into a proud, yet shy smile as they disappear behind her small portion of a ripe jallal fruit.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling faintly as she looks at the stygian-haired young woman:
"I want us each to have a mate or lover that is not each other. Someone who can do that for us. Because it was immensely enjoyable. And I think you'd like it too."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, uncertainly:
"Do you think I can find someone like that?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, leaning in briefly to touch her lips to each of the stygian-haired young woman's cheeks:
"But I want us to still be... this. Sybelle and Emmie. And love each other and make each other happy and feel good."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, nodding softly as she looks toward the window:
"I think if you'd like Ra'al to do it, he would enjoy it and get better with practice, though I do not know how you feel for him."
At your seat, you say in sirihish:
"In truth... I have no significant feeling for the soldier. As I said... it was just... sex. And there was so much joy in that, at the moment, you know."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking to the stygian-haired young woman and smiling lovingly:
"But it was not the love I have for you, or with you."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, tilting her head forward, cheeks warm beneath your lips:
"I'm not sure how I feel about him either. I care for him, but... I don't know."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, nodding softly as she lifts her hand to slowly graze through the stygian-haired young woman's locks:
"More than those other things, though, I want you to do what makes you feel happy. And to know that no matter what kind of mistakes you make or regrets you have when..."
At your seat, you say in sirihish:
"done..."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, shrugging a single shoulder:
"I think I'll figure it out in time, if it moves slow. Everything went so fast before."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, beaming a smile at the stygian-haired young woman:
"It will not change how I feel for you. Not a bit. I will still love you. Even to the day I die."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, smiling softly, as she looks into your gaze:
"Even if it's with Ra'al?"
Something small nips on your back!
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, the smile faltering:
"Even if I let him inside of me, and he makes me pregnant, would you feel the same?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, holding out the vine-inked backs of her hands:
"Even if it's with Ra'al. Ra'al is not mine, he never was. I am not a fool enough to think that anymore."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking at the stygian-haired young woman and nodding softly:
"I will still feel the same. I love you, Sybelle. And if it brought you joy and love and hope... it would make me happy to know I could share those beautiful feelings with you."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking at her hands:
"The vines on the backs of my hands... are you."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, lightly taking your hand, and drawing it down so she can look at the back:
"Thank you, Emmie. I love you. I never noticed your tattoo before. Is it-"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling warmly as she looks at the inks:
"Permanently a part of me."
The stygian-haired young woman closes her eyes as she flushes a shade of red. Not pink, but a proper, full red.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking at the stygian-haired young woman with a warm, loving smile:
"The teardrops in my ears, at my throat... those are Ra'al. A source of sorrow and beauty, to be sure. But nothing I would want to be stuck with forever."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, biting on her lower lip:
"I... I want a tattoo for you. I've wanted one ever since I saw Anana's, but I didn't have a good reason, and I was afraid of the pain."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, softly:
"I made them to mourn him, as I told him I would. I loved the Ra'al I had not touched or tasted. The one who smelled of sweet water and fresh flowers. The one I kissed filled me with gall. And so I mourn the first."
The stygian-haired young woman quiets, and leans forward to brush a kiss to your cheeks, then lightly to your forehead. She threads her fingers through your hair and brushes it away from your face.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, eyes warm as she regards the stygian-haired young woman:
"Take as much time as you want or need. A decision you can't take back made hastily is sometimes worse than none at all."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette shivers as her hair's brushed back.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's stomach growls quietly but insistently.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking toward a plain bag of cloth:
"Mind... if I have a fruit?"
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, shaking her head:
"No, no. I know that I want it. I just... would you be okay with that? I know that I'm copying you."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, warmly:
"Take as much as you like. Mine was safe."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking at the stygian-haired young woman and smiling warmly:
"Imitation is the only kind of flattery that works on me, beautiful Sybelle."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette gives the stygian-haired young woman a playful wink.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, impishly:
"Then I'd like to pick out a tattoo with you, some time soon."
Nibbling, tentatively, the stygian-haired young woman takes a bite of her ripe jallal fruit.
Pressing it into your hand with an approving nod, the stygian-haired young woman gives you her partially eaten ripe jallal fruit.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, flushing slightly as she smiles at the stygian-haired young woman:
"And if I found someone who did the same with me, to me, for me, would you be alright? Would you still feel the same?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling as she looks down at the fruit:
"Thank you."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, worrying anxiously at her lower lip:
"Do you want me to be completely honest?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking to the stygian-haired young woman and nodding softly:
"Yes. I try to always be honest with the people I love, and in truth, I consider anything less a very hurtful personal slight."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, softly:
"Though it took it happening several times for me to realize it."
The stygian-haired young woman nods her head once, as she swallows, and looks down to a plain bag of cloth.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, quietly, brow creasing:
"The thought makes me... jittery. Not jealous, not hurt, just upset, just... full of energy, like I have a storm in my chest. And it makes my want to touch myself, a lot. I'm not sure why I feel either of these."
Nibbling a little, the stygian-haired young woman takes a bite of her ripe jallal fruit.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, holding her partially eaten ripe jallal fruit out to you:
"Want another?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling faintly as she lifts your half eaten ripe jallal fruit to her lips again:
"No thank you. Not yet, at least."
[87/87|102/111|90/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|dusk|Nekrete]
The stygian-haired young woman eats a portion of her partially eaten ripe jallal fruit, then sucks the juices greedily when they flow forth.
You eat part of your half eaten ripe jallal fruit, taking another big, honking, juice-spewing chomp of it.
You are a little hungry.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, glancing to you sidelong:
"Does that make any sense, feeling that way? Is it good? Is it bad? I don't understand it at all, but I don't understand any of this."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling genuinely at the stygian-haired young woman:
"I cannot promise you or I will always have this same love that we do now. But I can promise there will always be love, and it will always be good, if we are honest. It might hurt sometimes, but what love does not?"
The stygian-haired young woman looks to you, confusion and uncertainty in her gaze, but she nods her head a few times. Her arms loop around you and she leans into you to try and draw you into an embrace.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette lays her head on the stygian-haired young woman's shoulder, wrapping her arm low and gently around her.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, quietly, as she squeezes you:
"I hope that you find someone that makes you feel as good as you make me feel."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, kissing the stygian-haired young woman's cheek gently:
"I hope you find someone that makes you feel as good as you make me feel, too."
The stygian-haired young woman withdraws from you and takes occasional bites from her half eaten ripe jallal fruit She swings her dangling legs back and forth, staring down at the ground with a distant, thoughtful expression.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman chews slowly, unfocused on sweet morsel.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking to the stygian-haired young woman:
"What's on your mind, lovely?"
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, cheeks coloring slightly as she looks back to you:
"I don't understand anything that I'm feeling. It's so complicated. I wish someone would just come along and tell me what to do."
Outside the window, on the road below, the bald, bushy-browed man has arrived from the west.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, meeting your gaze:
"Does anything that I've said make sense?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, nodding softly as she looks over at the stygian-haired young woman:
"All of it. That was why I needed to leave."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, with a sheepish smile:
"I still don't know how I feel about it all."
At your seat, you say in sirihish:
"I'm glad you were there. I know that much."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, nodding her head, carefully:
"Okay. I... I love you. I know that much. An-"
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, giggling, as her features brighten:
"I'm glad I was there too. Oh, uhm, okay... I have another question."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, her nose wrinkling, a little:
"And I want your honest opinion."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling warmly as she nods at the stygian-haired young woman:
"Anything."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, lightly nudging her elbow against you:
"Should I save mine for someone I really love? You only get one, but... I want to know what it feels like."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, tone light-hearted, and curious:
"Does it hurt more than getting a tattoo or less?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking at the stygian-haired young woman for a long moment:
"It hurts the first time. I feel like I gave Ra'al a part of me I will never get back. And I don't think I want it back, now."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, shrugging one shoulder up:
"It hurts different than a tattoo. More, but for a shorter time. Afterwards, you'll be sore walking for a bit, though only the first time."
You grin.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, chewing slowly on her lower lip:
"So I'm going to have to figure it out on my own, huh?"
Outside the window, on the road below, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak has arrived from the west, humming mirthfully.
Outside the window, on the road below, a grey-feathered erdlu has arrived from the west.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, lifting a shoulder:
"Only what you want, really."
Outside the window, on the road below, leading him casually along, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak says something to a grey-feathered erdlu.
Outside the window, on the road below, looking aside quickly, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak says something to the man with the oiled, pointy beard.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, rubbing at the nape of her neck:
"I guess, yeah..."
At your seat, you say in sirihish:
"I can tell you the... physical parts. And the emotional parts. But I can't tell you how you will want them to fit together."
Outside the window, on the road below, the man with the oiled, pointy beard says something to the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak.
Outside the window, on the road below, The tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak's shoulders slump, and he hangs his head, sighing wearily.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, sadly, as she nudges the bag with the toe of her boot:
"I still don't know what I want."
Outside the window, on the road below, giving a small shake of his head, looking at him, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak says something to the man with the oiled, pointy beard.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, abruptly changing the subject:
"I have a weave that lets me travel. I- well, not me, but... It's complicated."
Outside the window, on the road below, the man with the oiled, pointy beard grins at the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak.
Outside the window, on the road below, The tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak snorts suddenly.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, lifting a finger to the stygian-haired young woman's lip and smiling:
"You don't have to figure it out. That's the beauty of it. I realized..."
Outside the window, on the road below, the man with the oiled, pointy beard says something to the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak.
Outside the window, on the road below, shrugging one shoulder, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak says something to the man with the oiled, pointy beard.
The stygian-haired young woman silences herself when your finger touches her lips, which still beneath your touch.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, laughing suddenly:
"I'm fucking mad. I have no idea what I want. You make me happy though, so I don't want it to be something that excludes you."
Outside the window, on the road below, Shaking his head sadly, the man with the oiled, pointy beard walks east.
Outside the window, on the road below, looking eastward, muttering under his breath, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak says something.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, confessing, almost relieved, against your fingers:
"I don't know what I want either."
The stygian-haired young woman kisses your fingertip, gingerly.
Outside the window, on the road below, patting him reassuringly, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak says something to a grey-feathered erdlu.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, sounding as though her own words were confusing even to her:
"If I can't find someone I want to take mine, Emmie, would you do it one day? I don't want to live my life without ever meeting someone who wants it."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling faintly as she looks down:
"That's why I was so jealous. I can't. Not...not the way he did. I can make you feel good though. And I want to."
Outside the window, on the road below, A grey-feathered erdlu twists its head about, scanning the surroundings.
Outside the window, on the road below, humming mirthfully, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak walks east.
Outside the window, on the road below, a grey-feathered erdlu walks east.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, her nose wrinkling:
"Yeah, I know. It's not something that we can really do. But I still feel like I want you to."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling faintly as she looks toward the dress and shoes laid out:
"As much as I'd love to stay... I either have to go to my temple to sleep, or I'm going to need to do it here in just a few minutes."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, pressing a kiss to your forehead:
"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you. Uhm... Rest well, Emmie. You can sleep here if you want. I don't care if I get fleas."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, smiling fondly:
"Can we still go to the Mantis Valley, one day?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, nodding softly as she looks at the stygian-haired young woman, tightening her arm around her in an affectionate squeeze:
"I understand, my love, my Sybelle. I do. I wish I could do it. If I could, I wouldn't have been jealous of not being able to for you."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, nodding again:
"Of course. I just have to get better at my magicks so I can take you more easily, and make it be safe."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, exhaling a sigh as she leans into your squeeze:
"I know. I don't know if your fingers or long enough, and a rock or bone sounds... terrible. Ugh. No."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, nose wrinkling again:
"I just wish you could take it. Even if it's not intimate, or anything like that. I wish I could give it to you."
Leaning in and brushing her lips across her earlobe gently, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I could try to... shape the winds... like with your breasts... when we were, you know, together."
Shaking her head, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"But not now, not while I'm still itchy and covered in muck and shame."
Agreeably nodding her head, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I'm... not ready yet, either. I don't think I am. I'm not sure. I want to know what it feels like but the thought... When I think about it I just-"
Something small bites your neck, and you grunt as you shake your head!
Cutting herself off, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Sleep. Right! Uhm..."
Hopping to her feet, the stygian-haired young woman stands up from a grey, bone-framed bed.
Drawing it out, the stygian-haired young woman gets her green-black sandcloth cloak from a squat bone dresser.
Affectionately, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"Lay back?"
Scratching at her neck and giving an apologetic smile, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Still itches... I'm so sorry I keep like kicking and wincing and shaking my head and such. It's not intentional."
Wryly grinning, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Don't apologize. It's cute."
Draping it over your naked body, the stygian-haired young woman gives you her green-black sandcloth cloak, tucking it in below your chin.
Nodding her head, once, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"To keep the wind from waking you."
With a shy smile, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I can just picture how beautiful you look... it makes me smile.... when you are sitting on the edge of a chair, chewing on a bimbal leaf and your hair falls in your eyes, and you don't know I am seeing you."
The stygian-haired young woman's cheeks flush as she smiles down at you, the expression drawn wide.
Eyes closing, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"It's so wonderful to see you looking so unself-conscious and not halting in what you do or questioning it, but just lost in thought. It's captivating."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette snuggles under the cloak shivering only for a moment, before she starts to doze.
The stygian-haired young woman leans forward and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then sweeps your hair away from your face.
Fingertips brushing across your cheek, the stygian-haired young woman whispers to you, in sirihish:
"Sleep well, Emmie. I love you, my whira."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette falls asleep almost instantly with the stygian-haired young woman's touch and kiss.
Half-asleep, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"Love you, Sybelle. You're my oasis in this scorched, forsaken wasteland."
[87/87|102/111|89/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|easily manageable|early morning|Waleuk]
Come back soon!
You may:
(C) Disconnect from character (L) List your characters
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(O) Show Race/Guild Options (P) Change account password
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Armageddon is OPEN.
She's 14, been gemmed for a month or so, and had just started experimenting with others about her age, wound up with a boyfriend and girlfriend and they all three fooled around once, then the boyfriend and girlfriend got together, leaving her out of the loop, so in her loneliness, she winds up banging an AOD recruit on the secret and gets lice from him (more accurately, the staff put a flea script on both of them for some reason I still can't fathom since neither of them had fleas). I'll add more from the logs on her as I clean them up.
arm - Tuesday, February 26, 2013, 2:08 AM
A twiggy mix of fine-boned and just a little too skinny, this woman
maintains a mostly ageless but vaguely youthful appearance. She's just on
the verge of too small in both height and weight, and a mess of fine,
tousled, but relatively clean coffee-colored hair falls to the middle of her
shoulder-blades in a messy series of waves, with long bangs framing the wide
lips that rest just above her rounded jawline with a slight underbite.
Youthfully rounded still, the apples of her cheeks camoflage her
cheekbones, giving her the appearance of someone not long into womanhood,
though the large, velvety blue-greyish slate hue of her long-lashed eyes is
piercingly precocious. An uneven part, pale skin, and an overall disheveled
appearance finish the portrait of this lissome, rawboned young woman's
looks, her wiry frame towing the line between slender and sickly, giving her
a delicate and breakable visage with long twiggy legs, and long, lean arms
framing a skinny torso with barely defined curves.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette is in excellent condition.
<in hair> some flower-carved opal beads
<in left ear> a delicate translucent earring
<in right ear> a delicate translucent earring
<around neck> a moon-carved, white stone pendant
<about throat> a dull black gem
<on torso> a bare-shouldered, girdled golden dress
<on arms> a leaf-patterned jade armlet
<around right wrist> a translucent beaded purse
<around left wrist> a gleaming white stone bracelet
<hands> a chain of green leaves tattoo
<secondary hand> a broad stone chisel
<on right index finger> an amethyst-set, carved bone ring
<on left index finger> a black ring with white veins
<on feet> a pair of shiny black leather shoes
You sigh.
Patiently, you shape the stone into a bracelet.
You put your gleaming white stone bracelet into your large bag.
You could make a pyramid carved, white stone ring from that.
You could make a couple of massive skull-carved rings from that.
You could make a white stone bracelet from that.
You could make a pair of sun-shaped white stone earrings from that.
You could make a moon-carved white stone pendant from that.
You begin crafting a white stone bracelet from a hand-sized chunk of
white alabaster you are carrying.
Tiny shards of stone scatter into the air as you begin to work the rock.
Chewing on her lip, you say, in sirihish:
"Fucking alabaster."
Patiently, you shape the stone into a bracelet.
You put your gleaming white stone bracelet into your large bag.
You begin crafting a pair of sun-shaped white stone earrings from a
hand-sized chunk of white alabaster you are carrying.
Tiny shards of stone scatter into the air as you begin to work the rock.
You feel your mental contact withdrawing from the mind of your target.
You carve the stone into an earring.
This small earring has been carved and polished from a hard,
semi-translucent white stone. It is small and flat, with triangular waves
extending out from a circular base to provide the imagery of a blazing sun.
Protruding from the back is a narrow length of the same stone, allowing it
to be placed into one's ear. It is no more then an inch across its front
and is quite dainty in appearance and weight. Though the simple design and
exquisite polishing give it much aesthetic value.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the tall male wearing a stained grey shaded, black face-wrap has arrived from the north.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the male wearing a long, featureless obsidian mask has arrived from the north.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the figure in a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak has arrived from the north.
Down in a narrow alleyway, Clucking his tongue lightly, the tall male wearing a stained grey shaded, black face-wrap says something.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the figure in a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak sheathes a forked dagger.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the figure in a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak sheathes a forked dagger.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the male wearing a long, featureless obsidian mask sheathes a pink pearl-pommeled bone dagger.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the tall male wearing a stained grey shaded, black face-wrap walks south.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the male wearing a long, featureless obsidian mask walks south.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the figure in a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak walks south.
Down in a narrow alleyway, the tall male wearing a stained grey shaded, black face-wrap closes the blockade from the other side.
In front of the Tower of Whira, the tall figure in a set of hooded, stone grey robes has arrived from the east.
In front of the Tower of Whira, the male wearing a long, featureless obsidian mask has arrived from the east.
In front of the Tower of Whira, the figure in a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak has arrived from the east.
In front of the Tower of Whira, the tall figure in a set of hooded, stone grey robes walks south.
In front of the Tower of Whira, the male wearing a long, featureless obsidian mask walks south.
In front of the Tower of Whira, the figure in a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak walks south.
A single piece of gleaming white stone has been crafted into this massive
ring. The most striking part of its robust band is a carved elven skull,
large enough to cover a whole digit of the wearer's finger. Empty, hollow
eyesockets wear a blank, lifeless stare while the mouth hangs open in a
silent scream.
You put your massive, skull-carved ring into your large bag.
You think:
"Meh. At least if I have to be lonely, I can make sids while I do it."
You feel despondent and gross.
In a large bag (carried) :
a black granite ring
a pyramid carved, polished white stone ring
a couple of massive, skull-carved rings
a couple of sun-shaped white stone earrings
a couple of gleaming white stone bracelets
a couple of green marble bracelets
a few handfuls of bitter smelling leaves
a loose, off-white sandcloth robe
a green glow-crystal
a few small pieces of crystal
a few small, angular chunks of quartz
a few carved agafari combs
a couple of translucent blue stones
a shard of agate
a few rough bits of carnelian
a few shards of sharp-edged flint
a few chunks of cloudy white quartz
a few purple amethyst crystals
a couple of rough chunks of bluish rock
a couple of greenish-grey stones
a few small globules of sticky, golden sap
a dusky-black feather
a couple of golden linen scarves
a long, embroidered white veil
a couple of crumbling red tablets
a couple of translucent green tablets
a booklet of rolling papers
a small yellow tablet
a grainy yellow tablet
a deck of Kruth cards
a waterskin
a stone rasp
You are Emere.
Keywords: rawboned slate-eyed brunette emmie
Sdesc: the rawboned, slate-eyed brunette
Objective: Need animation from Mimintia regarding glypah and flea script.
Long Description:
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette is here working with a small gleaming object.
You are 14 years, 0 months, and 192 days old,
which by your race and appearance is young.
You are 62 inches tall, and weigh 6 ten-stone.
Your strength is poor, your agility is above average,
your wisdom is extremely good, and your endurance is below average.
You are neither hungry nor thirsty.
Your health is 87(87), you have 117(117) mana, 102(111) stamina,
and 94(94) stun.
You have been playing for 4 days and 22 hours.
You are resting.
You are currently speaking sirihish with a southern accent.
[87/87|102/111|94/94|117/117][Invis|flying]
[resting|no problem|late afternoon|Ocandra]
Your encumbrance is no problem.
Relationship to the land is neutral.
You are currently speaking sirihish with a southern accent.
You are affected by:
Fly, Invisibility
Your mood is neutral.
You are resting.
You are refusing saves on: arrest | subdue | .
You are not being merciful.
You aren't watching anything in particular.
[87/87|102/111|94/94|117/117][Invis|flying]
[resting|no problem|late afternoon|Ocandra]
Magickal spells
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
teleport [wek ] detect invisible [mon ]
invisibility [sul ] levitate [mon ]
hands of wind [yuqa] guardian [wek ]
fly [een ] feather fall [wek ]
identify [wek ]
Known reaches
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
reach un reach nil
Psionic powers
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
contact (journeyman) barrier (novice)
Combat skills
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
dual wield (novice) shield use (novice)
two handed (novice)
Manipulation skills
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
ride (novice)
Perception skills
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
forage (journeyman) watch (journeyman)
Barter skills
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
value (apprentice)
Language skills
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
sirihish (master) southern accent
[MORE]
Craft skills
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
feather working (novice) cooking (novice)
jewelrymaking (advanced) analyze (novice)
You stop resting, and stand up.
Winds swirl around you as you draw upon the power of Whira.
You utter the incantation, 'yuqa nil whira locror viod'.
You lost your concentration!
Winds swirl around you as you draw upon the power of Whira.
You utter the incantation, 'yuqa nil whira locror viod'.
You lost your concentration!
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette mumbles.
You shake your head.
Inside of Whira's Tower [UD]
Partway up the stairs, one is afforded a view both up and down the
length of this tall, slender construction of white stone. The narrow,
unrailinged staircase winds around and around the Tower walls in both
directions, utterly exposed to the fierce Zalanthan winds.
Inside of Whira's Tower [UD]
Partway up the stairs, one is afforded a view both up and down the
length of this tall, slender construction of white stone. The narrow,
unrailinged staircase winds around and around the Tower walls in both
directions, utterly exposed to the fierce Zalanthan winds.
Base of Whira's Tower [EU]
Here, a tiled courtyard surrounds the slender white stone Tower of
Whira, poised as though in flight against the sky. The Tower extends up
several stories, a staircase winding around the walls, all the way up to
the top. The narrow, steep stairs have no railing at all, making climbing
them a dizzying and perhaps precarious proposition.
A high archway leads eastward into the temple itself.
A languid, sandy-haired man looks studiously over the area.
Inner Sanctum of the Temple of Whira [SW Quit]
The walls of this chamber, which curve inward gently as they rise to
an arched dome, are covered with a mosaic of pastel and light-colored tiles
depicting a view of the Known World, as it might appear from high in the
air. The floor is recognizable as a map of Allanak and its surrounding
deserts, although only a blank white space marks the Templars' and Nobles'
Quarters. The light for this room comes from the high archway that leads
westward, towards the base of the Tower of Whira, while southward lies the
temple's outer chamber.
A willowy, azure-eyed woman leans near the archway.
West of here is Base of Whira's Tower.
[Near]
A languid, sandy-haired man looks studiously over the area.
You suffer from use of the Way.
You are unable to reach their mind.
You suffer from use of the Way.
You are unable to reach their mind.
You suffer from use of the Way.
You are unable to reach their mind.
A foreign presence contacts your mind.
The Top of Whira's Tower [NESWUD]
Winds blow with fierce insistence from all directions, with a force
that cannot be experienced on the ground. There is little sand this high
up, but the wind takes impassioned delight in hurling what exists with harsh
abandon at any exposed flesh. Allanak lies darkened far below, lights
glimmering like gems embroidered in the cloak of night's shadow. Far to the
south, Tektolnes' Tower gleams golden against the blackened sky.
There is no railing here, and an unwary step risks a plunge towards
the ground in front of the Tower.
You sit down and rest your tired bones.
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"*Affection* Hi, Emmie. Was... that you?"
You suffer from use of the Way.
You are unable to reach their mind.
You contact the stygian-haired young woman with the Way.
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"No, Sybelle. I have an embarassing question for you, though..."
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Okay. It was so odd. I entered my apartment, and then heard the wind. It reminded me of you. And then my head hurt... so much. Now I just feel tired and weak."
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Maybe I'm just hungry. *Weariness* Anyway, what is your question?"
You feel nothing for her, anymore.
You feel disgusted at the lies and the shit and the hurt.
Immortals
---------
There are 0 visible Immortals currently in the world.
There are 7 players currently in the world, other than yourself.
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"Do you know how to get rid of like... mites or fleas or what have you? I got them in someone's apartment while I was laying on their carpet."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"I heard that glypah will get rid of them, but not how, and I am in seclusion until I can find a way to get rid of them. I don't want anyone else to get them. I feel their disgusting little legs crawling all over me. *a mental shudder*"
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Well... It depends on what kind of fleas you havve. Do you have any blue spots?"
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"Not that I know of. I got them kanking, but that's where he got them as well. So I know I did not get them from him. He thought I cursed him. *self-disgust* That's expected, I guess, but just... so much for escaping the feel of being unwanted."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"Right?"
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"I thought you got them sleeping on a rug? *Uncertainty* Okay... I... Come to my apartment. I'll figure something out."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"Go figure the one time I lay with someone and it doesn't hurt anyone, it gives both people lice. It's like I'm being punished. *hesitation* Are you sure, Sybelle? I don't want to get these nasty things in your apartment."
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Let me put my clothes in the dresser, first. I'll probably have to shave myself after... But I shouldn't get them."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"Alright. And yeah, I know. That's the big reason I shave everything below my eyebrows is to avoid those nasty critters. Um... just let me know when everything's set so I can come in?"
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Okay. Come on in."
You gently drop to the ground.
You slowly fade into existence.
You unlock the door with a small, simple bone key. - *click*
You open the door.
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"*A mild uncertainty to her thoughts* So you're having sex with more people. Is it... fun?"
A Mud-Brick Apartment [N Quit Save]
This plain apartment has reddish-brown mud-brick walls, and its shape
is nearly a perfect square. The floor is made up of thick mekillot bones,
though a black rug covers most of floor space. A bone bed and set of
drawers are secured to one wall, and the only other distinguishing aspect of
the room is a bone-barred window on the southern wall. Past these
horizontal bars is a view of the busy Caravan Road below, from where the
various sounds of conversation and pack-beasts originate. Opposite to this
window is the door that would appear to be the only exit.
A crumpled canvas sack lies here in a heap.
A tall black stone vase is here in the light of the window.
A few unlit bulbous green candles sits in the window.
A slender bone sword is propped up against the dresser.
A blood red blossom has been left between the bars of the window.
A bone and leather keg, striped with blue paint, fills the air with acidic fumes.
A cask has been nestled into the corner.
The stygian-haired young woman is sitting on a grey, bone-framed bed.
Lifting ah and to wave, the stygian-haired young woman looks up at you.
Gently, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"It's just me."
Speaking quietly as she peeks her head in, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"It was... spectacular, at the moment. But then...."
Smiling a little wider, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"That's a really pretty dress."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette shakes her head, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
You begin watching the stygian-haired young woman.
As she steps in, you close the door.
The stygian-haired young woman stands up from a grey, bone-framed bed, then holds her arms open to you.
Hushed and gentle, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"I'm sorry, Emmie. Do you not want to talk about it?"
Looking down at herself, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"All I ever wanted was to feel like... loved loved. I know... I know you love me. And I love you. It's just... I wanted...want...someone that won't have to take time to think about it."
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman looks sympathetically to you, even as she anxiously chews the inside of her cheek.
As she steps closer, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Shh, shh, it's okay."
Scratching at her cheek, you say, in sirihish:
"Where's it's like 'I love YOU Emmie, you're the most important thing to me, and I want you to smile and be happy for the rest of your days'."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette gives the stygian-haired young woman a heartbroken but warm smile.
The stygian-haired young woman lightly touches her fingertip to your lips, and looks into your eyes. Fondly, she tries to draw you into her arms and embrace you tightly.
You notice the stygian-haired young woman start watching you.
Looking down at herself for a long moment, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I guess it's just because... when I think of love... that's how I feel like it should be. And I just feel like..."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette hushes as the stygian-haired young woman's fingertip is touched to her lip, her small frame practically collapses into her arms as if releasing, for a moment, the weight of the world.
Gently, the stygian-haired young woman whispers to you, in sirihish:
"Emmie. It's okay. I understand. I... I want to be with you no matter what. That's not what I'm thinking about. I've just been wondering if it's what's... well, best for you."
Smiling lopsidedly as she tries to pull back after a moment, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"It's not that I don't want to hug you, I do, so much, I just don't want you to get these horrible things. They itch so much. And they bite from head to toe."
The stygian-haired young woman holds you in her arms, and rubs her hands up and down your back. One drifts up to thread her fingers into your hair, though she lets you withdraw.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks at the stygian-haired young woman wistfully.
Gently, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I've resigned to getting them anyway."
Nibbling on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"So where does it itch?"
Lifting a vine-inked hand to her cheek and shaking her head, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"All over. When they bite my feet, my feet do, when they bite the back of my head, my head does, when they bite my armpits, they do, and down there...."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette winces.
Quietly, you say, in sirihish:
"I'm kinda relieved they seem content to bite my armpits most of all."
Guiding you to a grey, bone-framed bed, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Sit. Sit."
You sit on a grey, bone-framed bed, wandering over after a moment as she looks up at the stygian-haired young woman.
Nose wrinkling, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I'll have to get rid of that blanket, but that's okay. It has everyone's cum on it anyway."
Kneeling in front of you, the stygian-haired young woman sits down, then gently takes your foot. Carefully, she tries to pull the shoes from your feet.
Chewing on the inside of her lip, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I think it's probably good that you and Ra'al are together. Or, rather... that was the impression he left me with when I spoke to him. I think you're more suited to each other. Mostly I.."
You stop using your pair of shiny black leather shoes, the small things being tugged off easily.
Shaking her head from side to side, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"I'm not with anyone, Emmie. When did he tell you this?"
Shaking her head, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I just wanted to escape the hurt and the pain and the stupidity of everyone stabbing each other in the heart and calling it love, and I felt so empty, like nobody cared if I lived or I died and then..."
The stygian-haired young woman lifts one of your feet and looks it over. She brushes her fingertips over the heel, along the sole, and spreads the toes to peek between them.
Looking down at herself, ignoring the stygian-haired young woman's question for now, you say, in sirihish:
"Mostly I... I don't know. I wanted a dress and then he told me I was beautiful and he wanted me and appreciated me."
Smiling affectionately, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I... understand. I really do."
Tears rolling down her cheeks as she smiles faintly, you say, in sirihish:
"So... I let him have me, and it was really good, until afterwards, with the itching."
No bites appear between the rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's toes, though the skin around her ankles seems peppered with tiny bumps from bites.
Laying a soft kiss to the top of your foot, while looking up at you, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I'm sorry, Emmie. You're not getting very good luck with lovers, between the three of us."
Her shoulders sagging a little as she looks at her, smiling lopsidedly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Neither are you, I guess. I just... the more I see of what a lover is, the more I think..."
Shaking her head, you say, in sirihish:
"I really, really need to care a lot about someone... or hate them. A lot. to bring something like myself on them."
A little laugh escapes the rawboned, slate-eyed brunette.
Gently, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I've had the most amazing luck with lovers. I got you, didn't I? You were the first and only person to ever really make me... feel that way."
The stygian-haired young woman rises to her feet, and holds her hands out to you, palms upturned.
The stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"Can I have your shoes?"
Nodding softly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Yeah... here."
You give your pair of shiny black leather shoes to the stygian-haired young woman, pulling them out from under the edge of the bed with her big toes and sliding them out to her.
Nose wrinkling, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I've never seen bites like these before. Sand fleas only bite the genitals, and stay in the hair there. Kank fleas are all over, but they don't bite. They burrow under the skin."
Blushing slightly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Might be kankfleas. I honestly don't know. I don't see any bugs, I just feel them biting me. It makes me feel gross."
Looking at her for a long while, you ask the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Do you mean that... about how I made you feel?"
The stygian-haired young woman takes her pair of shiny black leather shoes over to a blue-striped keg, and dips them in. After holding them in there for a few seconds, she pulls them out and then sets them nearby.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette watches the stygian-haired young woman curiously.
The stygian-haired young woman pours purplish liquid from a blue-striped keg on a pair of shiny black leather shoes.
Nothing happens.
Beside a blue-striped keg, the stygian-haired young woman drops her pair of shiny black leather shoes.
Turning back to you, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Kank fleas don't normally come from people. They come from animals, like beetles and stuff. I also don't see any of them wriggling beneath the skin, so... I don't know. That's tricky."
Quietly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I got four handfuls of glypah leaves in this bag. I dunno who he talked to, but they told him that glypah would get rid of the things."
Pursing her lips, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"Can I see them?"
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette nods softly.
You get your handful of bitter smelling leaves from your large bag.
You give your handful of bitter smelling leaves to the stygian-haired young woman, handing over a palmful.
You drop your large bag, sitting the bag with the other handfuls on the top inside it just before her.
Shown to the room as:
A large bag is lying here.
The stygian-haired young woman pinches the leaves between her fingers, and rolls them back and forth.
Quietly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"He told me he was with you, and he meant nothing to you, and that you thought I was upstairs fucking him when I was upstairs smoking spice with him when you came in, and just... a lot of stuff."
Her eyes shimmering briefly with tears, you say, in sirihish:
"He laughed when I came to ask him if he could help me get rid of the things."
Breaking her silence, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"And yes, I said what I mean. You're the only person but me who has made me come. I love you. I would be happy to just hold you, all day."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks mortified.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman lifts her gaze from the leaves to you, sympathetic.
The stygian-haired young woman says, in sirihish:
"I think that these are for kank fleas, but I'm not sure that's what you have. Maybe."
Nibbling on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"You both got them at the same time?"
Blinking and giving her a warm smile, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I love you, too. I wish I could give you everything I feel like you need. You make my heart so full of love."
Nodding softly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Yeah... we went and... laid on the rug and fooled around, and then... we left once we were done, went seperate ways, and he found my mind to tell me he could never do that again. He thought I cursed him."
Adding, after a moment, the stygian-haired young woman says, in sirihish:
"No, these are for sand fleas. Bimbal is for kank flees. I-"
Tightly pursing her lips, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Let me... try something."
Shaking her head, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"He said it felt like something was biting his crotch, and I said, you know, that sounds like fleas and not a curse, then I felt something bite my ankle."
Interrupting herself to offer her a nod, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Alright... anything."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks at the stygian-haired young woman for a long moment.
After a pause, tone uncertain, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I... I want to ask who he is, but I don't want to know at the same time."
The stygian-haired young woman shakes the thought away, and reaches out. She lays one hand to the top of your head, and stretches the other out before her, fingers splayed, palm down.
The air near the stygian-haired young woman grows dark as she starts an incantation.
After a moment, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I couldn't tell you because I don't want there to be a chance of his life being ruined, and we both know there could be mindworms, shadow witches, or even a wind witch hidden somewhere listening."
Quietly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I want to say, but he's not gemmed, so it would only be a world full of trouble for both of us."
Something small bites your neck, and you grunt as you shake your head!
[85/87|102/111|90/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|late morning|Cingel]
Wrinkling her nose as her hand falls away, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Well, it was worth a shot... You're definitely not cursed. And don't worry, Emmie. I won't ask. "
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette grimaces, lifting a hand to her neck to rub at it as it's bit, her head giving a brief involuntary shake.
Smiling sadly, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"Still biting?"
Nodding a few times, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Yeah. I tried to get Mimintia the herbalist to tell me how to use the glypah to get rid of them. For like a day and a half. But I might as well have went in cloaked with magick for all the mind she paid me."
[86/87|102/111|90/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|late morning|Cingel]
You suffer from use of the Way.
Something small nips on your back!
[82/87|102/111|86/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|late morning|Cingel]
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette jumps, back arching as she lets out a yelp, hand running up to scratch furiously at her back.
[84/87|102/111|90/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|late morning|Cingel]
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's eyes shimmer with unspent tears of pain and humiliation.
[85/87|102/111|90/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|late morning|Cingel]
The stygian-haired young woman moves to a squat bone dresser and kneels, rummaging through her things.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her bone-studded backpack from a squat bone dresser.
Outside the window, on the road below, a sharp-eyed female prostitute has arrived from the east.
The stygian-haired young woman opens her bone-studded backpack.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her white cloth bandage from her bone-studded backpack.
The stygian-haired young woman puts her bone-studded backpack into a squat bone dresser.
The stygian-haired young woman pinches her handful of bitter smelling leaves a few times, and presses them lightly to her white cloth bandage, then gives a side-to-side shake of her head.
The stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I can't apply them with a bandage. Not sappy enough."
Sucking at her lower lip and nodding softly, you ask the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Um... could you mix two of them together into a tablet? Does... would that work?"
Nibbling on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"That's what I was going to try next..."
Moving to your side, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Or maybe I would just rub the paste there. I've heard, for sand fleas, you rub something really strong that isn't alcohol on the area. Like cleaning fluid, or... well, glypah, I guess."
Kneeling before you, the stygian-haired young woman sits down.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her handful of bitter smelling leaves from a large bag.
Gesturing to the bag on the floor, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Would you like to get another handful of them? I can grab them for you, if you want? I dunno. Yeah, I imagine cleaning fluid would burn my skin off. Ah.."
The stygian-haired young woman gets her handful of bitter smelling leaves from a large bag.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her handful of bitter smelling leaves from a large bag.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette nods to herself as the leaves are grabbed.
Exhaling slowly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Okay. Lets see. Uhm... Well, I don't know if I could make a salve out of these. Maybe if I had a little more leaves..."
The stygian-haired young woman begins to brew a handful of bitter smelling leaves and a handful of bitter smelling leaves into a tablet.
As she starts to mash some of the leaves together in her palm, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I guess there are a couple things that I could try. Lets start with a tablet."
Looking down at her palm, the question casual, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"Do you think that we could be happy, if we were together?"
Nodding softly as she looks at the tablet being mashed together, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Alright. I trust you. Thank you so much, Sybelle... thank you."
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman peeks up at you through the fringe of her lashes, intermittently.
Looking down thoughtfully, you say, in sirihish:
"I want to think so. I just... there has been so much hurt that... I can't think of a single place we have been happy where there has not also been tears. And I think that you and I both deserve much more joy than sorrow."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette gives the stygian-haired young woman a look of wistful, sorrowful love.
Chewing on her lower lip, the words coming as though a statement of a fact, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"So... you... don't want to be with me, now."
The stygian-haired young woman mixes a handful of bitter smelling leaves and a handful of bitter smelling leaves together.
The stygian-haired young woman makes a grainy yellow tablet.
The stygian-haired young woman presses the crushed plants together into a small shape. She packs it tightly, pinching it again and again with her fingers.
Lifting her grainy yellow tablet to you, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Try it."
Something small bites your ankle, and you shake your foot!
Speaking softly as she looks at her, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I want to not be alone. I want you to be happy. I want to be happy. I don't... I don't want to think about all the pain anymore, though. It is killing all of the joy in me."
The stygian-haired young woman gives you her grainy yellow tablet.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette grimaces, her foot shaking involuntarily as her ankle is bit.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman swallows, subtly.
You swallow your grainy yellow tablet, popping it between her lips.
Reaching out to try and take her hand and lift it to her lips, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I love you. I hate me."
Nodding her head a few times, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I understand. I hope... I hope that you find what makes you happy, Emmie. I really do. I love you."
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman's features tighten, and her eyes become glassy and moist.
The words barely audible as she brushes her lips across her skin, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I will do my best to make you happy. But if I cannot escape all the sorrows... the happiness will be all yours, and none of it mine."
Closing her eyes as her hand is lifted to your lips, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Don't hate you. You're too wonderful to hate."
Something small nips you on the back of the head!
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette grimaces and holds a hand up to her head to scratch at the back of it furiously.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman's lips faintly part, and her lashes lift just a bit.
Outside the window, on the road below, the tall, brown-haired man has arrived from the west.
Laughing and crying as impotent anger and frustration wrinkle her features, you say, in sirihish:
"I really thought that that would work."
After brushing her fingertips lightly to your lips, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"It hurts that I know I'll never be able to give you what you want, and need. I- here. I have a few more ideas."
The stygian-haired young woman draws her hand back and clears her throat, refocusing her attention onto a squat bone dresser again.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman blinks away her budding tears and replaces them with a determined gaze.
The stygian-haired young woman stands up.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her glass vial from her bone-studded backpack.
The stygian-haired young woman sits down, on the ground before you.
The stygian-haired young woman begins to brew a handful of bitter smelling leaves and a handful of bitter smelling leaves into a vial.
Nodding softly, slowly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Sybelle... it is... I meant it. I cannot.... I cannot keep hurting you without hating myself, and I cannot be honest with you without hurting you. I will gladly live...whatever life you like, though..."
Softly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"If it will make you happy, I will be here for you every day of your life. You mean so much to me, I want you to be happy so badly. I feel like if there is any good that could come from all of the hurt, it would be you smiling."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's voice cracks a little.
The stygian-haired young woman mashes the leaves together, and then crams them into her glass vial, one by one. She dribbles some spit into the vial, and then closes it with her thumb. Finally, she shakes it up and down, vigorously.
Reassuringly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"You don't hurt me, Emmie. I just..."
Notes of desperation in her voice, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"If I were a man, this would be so easy. I could just take you and make you mine, and we would be happy together. It would be so simple then. You would love me so much."
The stygian-haired young woman exhales and looks back to her vial as she shakes it up and down, the fluids inside mixing together.
The stygian-haired young woman mixes a handful of bitter smelling leaves and a handful of bitter smelling leaves together.
The stygian-haired young woman makes a pallid yellow vial.
Quietly, looking toward the barred window, you say, in sirihish:
"It's not... no. No. I do love you. SO much. And I am yours if you want me. It's just... I have so many messy, disturbing feelings for you that I can't sort out. Love, hope, fear, guilt, sorrow..."
As she starts to drizzle the mixed liquid onto your legs, rubbing it in to the bitten areas, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"Would you be happy? Really, and truly, and genuinely Emmie. Could you live with me?"
Her hands all business, as she gazes up to you, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"A month? A year? Five years? Ten years? Could you still be happy then, knowing what I'll never be able to give you?"
Looking down, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"The reason why the... why it was so good... was because of the fact that I did not care about his feelings being hurt. I did not need to ask myself what I meant. I did not... it was nothing. It was masturbating with a man."
The stygian-haired young woman gives you her pallid yellow vial.
The stygian-haired young woman says, out of character:
"I guess try applying and using?"
Sighing with relief at the liquid rubbed over her legs, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"If I knew that you would be joyous. That you would not worry if I was gone for a week just laughing and dancing with the grasses, if I...Yes, I think I could."
You say, out of character:
"apply self? never used a vial before."
You say, out of character:
"well, a brewed vial. does it work like perfume? use vial self?"
You stand up from a grey, bone-framed bed.
The stygian-haired young woman says, out of character:
"I can't remember. Brewed vials are really weird, but try using it like perfume first?"
You can't hold this.
You do not hold that item in your hand.
Sorry, you cannot do that here.
No help topic for 'vial'.
[87/87|102/111|87/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[standing|very light|early afternoon|Cingel]
Use (Gameplay)
This command is employed under special circumstances, such as in the
operation of a tool, piece of equipment, or signet ring.
Syntax:
use <tool or equipment> <object>
Example:
> use sift deposit
(If your character has a sand-sift, and is standing in the same location
as a deposit of spice, this will allow him/her to sift the sand for
spice.)
> use axe
(If your character has a lumber axe and is standing in the same location
as a grove of trees or a forest, this will allow him/her to attempt to
chop a tree down to get a log.)
> use ring scroll
(If your character is wearing a signet ring and has a sealable scroll in
their inventory, it will leave an impression of the ring in wax.)
See also:
spice, wood
[87/87|102/111|88/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[standing|very light|early afternoon|Cingel]
Quaff (Gameplay)
This command will cause your character to consume the named potion or
potion-fruit. All effects of that potion will take effect immediately. The
potion must be in your inventory or in one of your character's hands at the
time the command is used.
Syntax:
quaff <object>
Example:
> quaff potion
See also:
drink, sip
You can only quaff potions.
It's empty already.
You can't wield that.
You say, out of character:
"um... can't wield or hold it, use self, apply self, drink vial, or quaff vial. I'm so sorry *awkward* Do you have any other syntax guesses?"
The stygian-haired young woman says, out of character:
"They work just like tablets, so I was hoping that they had some secret use instead of just being pointless redundancy."
Your stomach refuses to eat that!
You say, out of character:
"oh blah. hmm. I have no clue. this is particularly embarassing. I even tried to eat it, much to the refusal of her stomach."
The stygian-haired young woman says, out of character:
"Yeah! The code is being sort of weird about this. You might just have to RP it and then write in ask that they remove it, or at least give you more details about her symptoms."
You say, out of character:
"Yeah, waiting on a response to a request about it still, but I'll include the log here and hold onto the vial until I hear something back from somewhere about how to use it at the least."
You sit on a grey, bone-framed bed.
Her expression soft, as she rubs the chalky-yellow solution into the bites on your calves, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I love you, Emmie. I want to be around you, but not if it hurts you. I just... like being around you. I like holding you."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette takes what's left in the vial and rubs it into her scalp and through her hair, all up and down her neck.
Her voice quieting as she looks down to your foot, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"When I just wrap my arms around you, and lean into you, I feel so at peace. I don't know how to explain it."
Pausing her application of the liquid in the vial, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I love holding you and being held, and being around you. I want to be ABLE to help you feel at peace. Thinking about you happy... makes me so much happier than thinking about me happy."
Unless stopped the stygian-haired young woman's hands even drift under your dress, spreading the chalky solution to all areas of your body, though she is careful, professional, and gentle.
Exhaling slowly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Okay, take the dress off. I want to dip it in the cleaning solution too."
You stop using your bare-shouldered, girdled golden dress, pulling it up over her head unself-consciously to show the tiny bites all over her.
You give your bare-shouldered, girdled golden dress to the stygian-haired young woman, careful to keep it from brushing her clothes with it.
The stygian-haired young woman says, out of character:
"Btw she's been naked this entire time -- not sure if you noticed!"
Nodding softly as she looks down at herself for a moment, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I feel so itchy and gross."
You say, out of character:
"I didn't. wow. the one time I don't use look. that's what I get."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette offers the stygian-haired young woman a warm smile.
Folding her bare-shouldered, girdled golden dress over her arm, careful not to let it brush the hair on her scalp or atop her mons, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"You're never gross. You're... like a fresh breeze. You even smell like flowers when you come."
The stygian-haired young woman stands up.
Gesturing to her bag, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I got a clean robe in there I bought but never put on so that if I could get rid of 'em, I'd have something to put on until I got my clothes cleaned."
At the stygian-haired young woman's last few words, the rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's cheeks blush the same pymlithe blossom pink as the peaks of her modest breasts.
The stygian-haired young woman moves to a blue-striped keg and dips her bare-shouldered, girdled golden dress into it, a few times. She draws it out, gives it a little shake, and then drapes it next to a pair of shiny black leather shoes.
The stygian-haired young woman pours purplish liquid from a blue-striped keg on a bare-shouldered, girdled golden dress.
Nothing happens.
Something small bites your neck, and you grunt as you shake your head!
The stygian-haired young woman looks down at you.
Briefly pursing her lips as she looks you over, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Okay, so, your clothes should be free of them if they're sand fleas..."
Nodding softly as she looks down at herself, you ask the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"What else might they be, do you think?"
Chewing on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"How long have you had them?"
The stygian-haired young woman looks to you, studiously, and exhales through her nose in frustration.
Softly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"About a week."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks down at herself, brows drawing together.
Sucking on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"That rules out cilop's kiss, which is good. That can be lethal."
Nodding softly as she lifts a hand to scratch behind her ear, you ask the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I think it was sand fleas. I'm not positive, but I think so. Maybe it's just gonna take a few days for them to all smother?"
Uncertainly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Maybe. I think they're sand fleas, too. Maybe they're just confused because you keep yourself so neat down there, and now they're biting all over."
The stygian-haired young woman crosses back to a squat bone dresser and rummages through.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her small jar of scented ointment from her bone-studded backpack.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette tips your pallid yellow vial onto its side, pouring a bit more from inside it onto her hand, then slathering it up and down the length of her arms, under her armpits and then high between her shoulderblades.
Holding your pallid yellow vial out with a self-conscious blush, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Could... you rub it across my back? I can't... reach. I don't want to miss a spot trying to do it with wind hands, you know."
Gently, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"At dawn I'll run and get some bimbal. I can make a salve and try treating your ankles. If it's kank fleas, I'll treat you everywhere for them."
Expression softened by your request, the stygian-haired young woman sits on a grey, bone-framed bed, then scoots until she's behind you.
You give your pallid yellow vial to the stygian-haired young woman, offering it out to her as she bites her lip.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, as she dribbles the chalky yellow fluid across your back:
"Of course. It's what friends are for. Lovers, too, I guess. I don't know what to call us."
The stygian-haired young woman rubs the fluid into your back with a soft, feather-touched tenderness. Both of her hands spread it around, from the small of your back to the tops of your shoulders.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette shivers all over at the stygian-haired young woman's hands on her back.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, blushing slightly as she looks down at the bed:
"Can't we just be... Emmie that loves Sybelle, and Sybelle who loves her Emmie? And be there for each other to try and make each other happy... and sometimes make each other feel good, if that's..."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, breathlessly:
"... that's what you want?"
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks up at the stygian-haired young woman through her lashes as she glances over her shoulders, the teardrops of her earings and necklace shimmering in the dying light through the window like actual fresh-spilled tears.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, nodding her head, gently, as she leans in to press a hug against your back:
"Okay. We can be that. I... I think I would like to make you feel good, some time. I never got to. I mean, if you wanted to."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, adding, tone almost vulnerable:
"I'll even wash my mouth clean so my lips aren't green, if you'd like."
The stygian-haired young woman swallows, abruptly, and returns her attention to spreading the solution across your back.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking down as she leans back just slightly into the stygian-haired young woman's hug and shaking her head:
"I love you. I love the way your lips feel, and I... I want to say yes, but I'm terrified of saying yes."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"*abject fear* Every time... someone makes me feel good, something horrible happens, and they leave or hate me, and the joy ends."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, shaking her head back and forth:
"I won't leave you, Emmie. You're going to have to chase me off with a stick or something."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, nose wrinkling as she smiles, involuntarily:
"Sand fleas certainly aren't doing the trick."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, giving the stygian-haired young woman a shy smile as she looks over her shoulder:
"I would never chase you with a stick. I don't think you'd enjoy it half as much as you think you would."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"I think you'd prefer to outrun an avalanche of petals and silk and sweet smelling hair and tender lips and shimmering, dark-lashed eyes."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette smiles up at the stygian-haired young woman through her lashes.
You feel almost not gross.
The stygian-haired young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"*A faint, comforting warmth, suddenly cut off by a sudden stab of surprise and shock* I- you're so wicked!"
[87/87|102/111|78/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|dusk|Cingel]
Something small nips you in the armpit, and you wince involuntarily!
The stygian-haired young woman blushes, and presses her warmed cheek to your shoulder. After, she laughs softly, but your wince draws her out of that mirthful expression.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, uncertainly:
"Are you okay?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, shaking her head softly:
"My underarms... I... those damn things, I told you they like to bite me there."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette scratches furiously at her armpit.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, holding out her hand:
"Will you pour a little more in my hand please, so I can rub it under them?"
Without thinking, the stygian-haired young woman slips her hands under your underarms and starts to spread what remains of the chalky-yellow substance there with little movements of the tips of her fingers.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette sighs softly and relaxes a little more.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, quietly, closing her eyes:
"Save... please try and save at least a little for my...."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's eyes draw to her shaved sex.
Laying it back on your thigh, the stygian-haired young woman gives you her pallid yellow vial.
This tiny vial is made of glass, tightly stoppered with a waxen cap. The
liquid inside is a chalky, sickly yellow.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, affectionately, as she shifts her seated position:
"Okay. Do you want to do it, or would you rather that I... I mean, if you wanted me to I would. It's not like I haven't touched it before."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, uncertainly:
"But at the same time..."
Something small nips you in the armpit, and you wince involuntarily!
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette tips her pinky finger into the vial, scooping out the remnants of the liquid within and then lays back, facing away from the stygian-haired young woman so she doesn't wallow all over her, covered in flea bites and chalky liquid.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, that uncertainty growing:
"Should I close my eyes? I'm not sure what to do."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, lifting her hand to offer the remnants of the vial to the stygian-haired young woman from her finger:
"I can... I would... if you wanted, but... I would rather it be me, because I feel gross right now."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, shaking her head softly:
"No. I liked it a lot when you touched me there before, that one time. I just... I'm putting medicine on my bits because I slummed it with some dirty soldier because I was so lonely. I don't want..."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, the uncertainty melting away, replaced by tenderness:
"I understand. I wouldn't want to mix intimate touch and... ickiness. But at the same time, I wasn't sure if you would find it comforting."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, wrinkling her nose:
"I don't want to be thinking about that when you're touching me. It makes me feel disgusting, and I would like not to be associating something that felt so good with something that feels so awful."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette scoops a third of the mixture off onto her mons, using her the tips of the fingers of her other hand to slowly rub it into the skin.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, chewing slowly on her lower lip:
"Okay. I'm going to pull back, now. But I'm here if you need a hug okay?"
The stygian-haired young woman withdraws from you, leaning away and shifting onto a different set of straps so that her presence isn't felt at all.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman actually holds her breath, too.
After a few moments, the rawboned, slate-eyed brunette scoops off another third, nodding softly at the stygian-haired young woman, as she parts her labia with the thumb and forefinger, pinky held out with the last of the mixture on it still, and uses her other hand to slowly rub it in.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's fingers move with a slow, methodic motion, like someone wiping a dish with a dry rag, careful not to miss a lip or curve or speck of space across the area.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman's gaze roams awkwardly about the room, and then exhales slowly through her nose as if releasing a held breath.
Finally, the rawboned, slate-eyed brunette lifts her hips and starts to rub the last of the ointment-mixture into the skin behind her sex and up the cleft of her buttocks, smearing it outward as she props her hips off the bed.
The stygian-haired young woman just sort of awkwardly looks around the room, barely even breathing if at all, remaining as silent as a shadow.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, lowering her hips again and looking over at the stygian-haired young woman with a slight tilt of her head, her vine-inked fingers interlacing atop her solar plexus as she looks at her:
"I do not know how I got so lucky as to have met you, but I love you."
The stygian-haired young woman looks back to you when addressed. Her lips blossom with a smile, and her gaze fixes on you.
Her words soft, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I didn't notice you were looking so... understandably... awkward. But you know, if I had... I would have like... tried to move off the bed or give you space or something. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."
You say, in sirihish:
"More uncomfortable than necessary."
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"I get the feeling like you're uncomfortable so much of the time, like you always feel like you're seperate from the people and rest of the world around you."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, shaking her head from side to side:
"Oh, no. It's fine. I mean, if it was really bad I could have stepped out. I just didn't know what to d-"
Trying to lay a hand on her knee gently, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"Are you? Do you?"
The stygian-haired young woman's features tighten with a wince, as though someone just drove something into her gut. After a few moments of looking as if she were about to cry, she bites hard at her lower lip, and nods her head to you.
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"I feel like I've known you since before I was born, and like even though there are so many things you can't or won't say, like I just... have these feelings about you, like I'm going crazy."
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman's eyes betray a vulnerability that cuts to the bone.
Her fingers slowly drawing back and forth across her knee, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Okay... Sybelle... Please... don't ever feel the need to hide yourself from me. Don't feel like I will hate you or judge you. I love you. You bring me joy."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, laying her hand onto your hand, stilling the fingers but squeezing them affectionately:
"I've always felt disconnected from everyone else. Separate. As if I'm just part of the background. Like... well, a shadow."
Drawing her hand to her lips to gently kiss the length of each of her fingers before turning her hand over to kiss her palm, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"You're not alone. You're not seperate. And you are not crazy. I see you."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, chewing on her lower lip:
"I..."
Eyes warm, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"And you are the most beautiful light I've ever seen."
The stygian-haired young woman closes her eyes and sighs, the sound warm, while her shoulders slump. Under your touch any tension or unease just sloughs from her posture and features, melting away into a contented, peaceful expression.
Splaying, and wiggling her fingers, the stygian-haired young woman whispers to you, in sirihish:
"I love when you kiss my fingers like that. Oh, Emmie... I love you."
You feel so unbelievably happy that she's able to make this woman who she loves so much feel so much better. Feel like it makes her whole world better.
Her eyes warm and full of love as they rest on her, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I would kiss you properly, but I'm really trying to not give you fleas, even though you've resigned yourself to getting them."
The stygian-haired young woman lightly cups her palm to your cheek, after it is kissed, and brushes her thumb across the bottom curve of your lower lip.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, smiling softly:
"I have so much hair. I'm surprised they haven't jumped onto me. Maybe they can't see me, either."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette cups the outside of the stygian-haired young woman's hand with her other hand, and lightly kisses the pad of her thumb.
Smiling faintly as she looks up at her, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"All they see is people miserable, I'd rather they didn't see you, knowing what follows."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette gives the stygian-haired young woman a wink.
The words spilling slowly, and involuntarily from her lips like sap leaking from a leaf, the stygian-haired young woman whispers to you, in sirihish:
"I want to be with you. I want to be with you, Emmie. I don't care what that entails, or what I have to do. I just... want to be with you."
Smiling genuinely as she looks up at her, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I love you too, Sybelle. I want to share my life with you and make you happy, and make you feel cherished and special and loved. I may... I may want another mate at some point."
Kissing her fingertips gently, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"But it is not because I don't love you. It is not because you are not enough. It is because sometimes I love flowers, but sometimes I love beautiful gemstones as well."
Softly, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I want you to know that now, and to know that I do not have anyone in mind. I tell you this so that if it ever comes to pass, you do not have to hurt or ask yourself if it is you, or if it because you are not what I want."
Pushing up to her elbows to try and kiss the flesh over her heart, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I love you and I want you always. But this last thing that happened, with you, me, and Ra'al, it was destructive. It nearly killed all of us."
Looking up through her lashes, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I want... someone to give and give and give to me, all the time, and it's not fair to ask that of one person all the time. It's not right, it's not fair, and it's not healthy."
You whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"But it is what I need."
Looking at her, speaking softly before going quiet, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"Is... would you be alright with that? I do not want to hurt you, but sometimes hurt is inevitable, and it's just a question of how much."
Tone hushed, gaze accepting and warm, the stygian-haired young woman whispers to you, in sirihish:
"If I never have sex again, that's okay. I... I have fingers, and that's enough for me. If you want to have sex with other people, that's okay too. I just want... this. This. Right now."
Looking up at her, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"And if we are together for a long time, it is bound to happen on occasion, but I would rather... oh... "
Looking into your eyes, the stygian-haired young woman whispers to you, in sirihish:
"Can we keep this? Please? I don't want to lose this, what we have."
Something small nips on your back!
Smiling genuinely as she looks at her, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I want for you to find something that makes you feel wonderful. Something that is just for you. Whether it is arranging flowers or eating candy from a gypsy's breasts."
Nodding softly, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I promise, you will never lose this. I could not stop loving you if I tried. I just want... for you to have something that is uniquely for you, and brings you joy even when I am not around."
Sheepishly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I found something that makes me feel wonderful, but you can't trap the wind. It goes where it goes, and all I can do is hope that it kisses my cheeks again some day."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's eyes rest on the stygian-haired young woman, warm, loving, and affectionate.
Nibbling on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"I... Can I confess something?"
Softly, clicking her tongue, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Anything. I do want you to find something other than me, though. Because one day, the sands will take me. It's inevitable, it happens to us all. And I want you to have something you know will still make..."
You say, in sirihish:
"you happy, even when I am not there to do it."
Something small nips you on the back of the head!
Nodding her head, carefully, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I know, Emmie. I know that... I'll never get to have you in the way that would make me most happy. I'm okay with that, because I know it would make you unhappy."
Chewing on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Okay. My confession. When we were together, last... I looked at your face while it happened, and I... I wanted that, what you had. I could feel it in every part of me."
Looking awkwardly aside, gaze roaming the floor and then the wall, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I just... wanted it. I don't know how to explain it. It was a yearning. Now, every time you talk about it, I feel that again."
Uncertainly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"And I don't know what to do."
Tilting her head to the side, you ask the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"An orgasm? Sex with a beautiful woman and a beautiful man? To look into the eyes of the most beautiful woman in the world while you feel yourself climax?"
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's eyes rest on the stygian-haired young woman, warm and full of love.
Her nose wrinkling, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I... well, I always want the third, of course. But I meant... to feel what it's like. To have someone -inside- of me. Almost like they're a part of me."
Sucking briefly on her lower lip, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"You looked so... satisfied. I knew what would happen after, as soon as I saw your face. It's why I almost started crying."
Nodding softly as she looks down, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I was jealous when it happened, because I would never be able to put the core of who I am inside the core of who you are that way. I don't want to be a man, but it just..."
Her voice quieting, hushed and small, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"It's why I wanted to end things on good terms. I felt..."
Softly, shaking her head, you say, in sirihish:
"I did not want him to be able to do that to both of us and me love you so much and all I could do was kiss you all over."
Something small bites your neck, and you grunt as you shake your head!
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, looking to your eyes:
"Inadequa-"
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, exhaling a soft sigh, shaking her head:
"They're still biting?"
You say, out of character:
"I'm not sure if they strictly should be or not. if it's just no one up there removing the script or what."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, scratching softly:
"It might just be old itches, but all the same... I would like to not... get too close... until I stop itching. Because I don't want you to ever have to feel this gross."
The stygian-haired young woman says, out of character:
"Well, if that cures it you can always say that it just took a while to kill them off =)"
Nodding her head once, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Okay. Are you hungry? I'm -starving-. I'm getting dizzy, actually... so let me get some food, and I'll make the salve and treat your ankle for kank fleas just incase."
You send this message to the staff:
"When the flea script was added apparently glypah was given as the cure. Managed to obtain some and had someone brew it into a tablet which she ate, she washed everything she owned, and then the woman made a vial of oil and rubbed it all..."
You send this message to the staff:
"all over her to try and smother the things off. If that is the way to get the fleas off, she has done it, can the script please be removed? I still have the vial in her inventory because I can't figure out syntax to use it, too."
Smiling affectionately as she gives a faint nod, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I am hungry, actually... thank you."
Stepping into it, the stygian-haired young woman wears her gauzy green cotton skirt on her legs, then wiggles her hips as she draws it up to her waist.
Stepping into them, one at a time, the stygian-haired young woman slips her feet into her pair of high, polished black leather boots.
Looking down and shaking her head, you say, in sirihish:
"Bran got rid ofhalf the sids I had to go and... let me see..."
You get your pile of allanaki coins from your translucent beaded purse.
There were 26 coins.
The stygian-haired young woman gets her green cotton blouse from a squat bone dresser.
Outside the window, on the road below, the tall male wearing a blue sandcloth veil has arrived from the west, moving slowly, gaze downcast.
Lifting a paltry handful of coins, you ask the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Here's like half a half a small?"
Pulling it down over her chest, the stygian-haired young woman wears her green cotton blouse on her body.
Outside the window, on the road below, moving slowly, gaze downcast, the tall male wearing a blue sandcloth veil walks east.
Shaking her head, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Keep it. I have plenty of money. When you're feeling better, you can pay me by kissing my fingers again. If, I mean, if that's something you would be okay with."
The stygian-haired young woman gets her hooded grey sandcloth shawl from a squat bone dresser.
The stygian-haired young woman plucks her small jar of scented ointment from a squat bone dresser, where she left it.
A staff member sends:
"Not really familiar with what should be used to cure it so I would recommend waiting until your request on this is reviewed."
Looking up at her her eyes sincere, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I want you to be happy. It will not make me unhappy to make you feel good. I love you. And it brings me great joy to make you feel good."
Holding up her small jar of scented ointment, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"If that doesn't work, we can try this one, but I want to see if these treatments work first."
The stygian-haired young woman wears her hooded grey sandcloth shawl about her body.
Crossing over to the door, looking lovingly back at you, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"I... When I get back, will you tell me what it feels like?"
Nodding softly as she looks down at herself, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Do you mind terribly if I stay here? I've been avoiding people since it happened. I don't want to give anyone critters."
Fondly, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Of course. I'd prefer it, actually. You'll be safer, I think."
Nodding softly, eyes warm, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Absolutely."
You smile.
Waving over her shoulder, the stygian-haired young woman walks north.
Something small bites your ankle, and you shake your foot!
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette screeches and darts a hand down to scratch furiously at her ankle.
Outside the window, on the road below, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak has arrived from the east, moving slowly, gaze downcast.
Outside the window, on the road below, moving slowly, gaze downcast, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak walks west.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette chews on her lower lip.
Something small bites your ankle, and you shake your foot!
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl opens the door from the other side.
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl closes the door.
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl locks the door with a small, simple bone key.
Turning about, and slumping her plain bag of cloth onto the ground, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"Kaji was murdered."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette offers the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl a faint smile, still sitting naked on the bed in the position she was in before she left her.
Chewing on her lower lip, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl asks you, in sirihish:
"There have been attacks on gemmers lately. Be careful, okay?"
As she toes her plain bag of cloth closer to you, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"I... found this. I'll taste it first to see if it's poisoned, but it looks really yummy."
Lifting a brow, you say to the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl, in sirihish:
"Kaji wasn't murdered. Ask Moraz. Kaji was found dead in the sands with all his things still on him. Moraz said he thought it was a bug."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks a little confused.
Her brows lifting, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"Really? Ra'al just told me that... I, well, I guess he didn't say he was murdered. Just that he died and that there have been attacks."
Shaking her head as she lays her roasted reddish root and her roasted black-fleshed tuber before you, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl asks you, in sirihish:
"Just be careful anyway, okay?"
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl gives you her roasted black-fleshed tuber.
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl gives you her roasted reddish root.
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl gets her ripe jallal fruit from a plain bag of cloth.
Nibbling on it, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl takes a bite of her ripe jallal fruit.
Frowning to herself, you ask the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl, in sirihish:
"Were... you going to kill yourself? Because you thought I was upstairs kanking Ra'al when I was up there to deliver spice to him?"
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks suspiciously toward the road.
Sucking on her lower lip, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"I... no. I mean... I- I thought about it..."
Gaze turning to the ground, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"He asked me to get his things then told me to wait, because he was busy. And I just got this... feeling. So I asked if he was with you, and he didn't answer. And then I asked you, and you... answered the way..."
As she lifts her half eaten ripe jallal fruit to her face, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"... that you did. And I just thought... I don't know. I ran back here. I still had Ra'al's fruit, and no tablets. I was eating the last of my fruit and thought it would be so easy to just take a bite."
Looking down herself, you say to the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl, in sirihish:
"I didn't say anything because I felt that if you knew I was up there your mind, like mine would have, would go to the worst possible option."
Quietly, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says to you, in sirihish:
"It was already going there."
Beside you, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl sits on a grey, bone-framed bed.
Looking at her, you say to the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl, in sirihish:
"I didn't want you thinking that I would do something like that to you. I have laid with him one time. And during it, I was with you."
At your seat, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says in sirihish, turning her half eaten ripe jallal fruit over in her hand:
"I believe you, Emmie. I do."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette looks at the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl, the sincerity in her gaze unwavering.
You eat your roasted black-fleshed tuber, choking it down quickly.
You are very hungry.
You eat your roasted reddish root, ravenous.
You are hungry.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, shaking her head as her stomach growls softly:
"Honestly... "
The tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl eats a portion of her half eaten ripe jallal fruit.
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"Ra'al is really... you gave me more pleasure than he did. It was just the intimacy of having him inside of me that was overwhelming."
At your seat, the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl says in sirihish, smiling softly to you, almost embarrassed:
"I... really?"
Almost embarrassed becomes a quite blatant embarrassment, as pink creeps across the tall figure in a hooded grey sandcloth shawl's cheeks.
Brushing the shawl away from her hair, the stygian-haired young woman lowers the hood of her hooded grey sandcloth shawl.
You send a telepathic message to the stygian-haired young woman:
"(vaguely) The sex I had with the commoner was better than the sex Ra'al gave me. He made me feel good with his mouth and then laid me down and pinned me to the ground and just... kept filling up all the hurts and emptiness with something delicious"
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman presses her knees together.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling faintly as she nods at the stygian-haired young woman:
"I swear it. If you'd not had your hands on me, I would not have peaked."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette speaks earnestly.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, shifting atop the bed:
"I... I'm glad, Emmie. That..."
Taking a hasty bite, the stygian-haired young woman eats a portion of her small portion of a ripe jallal fruit.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman's lips curve into a proud, yet shy smile as they disappear behind her small portion of a ripe jallal fruit.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling faintly as she looks at the stygian-haired young woman:
"I want us each to have a mate or lover that is not each other. Someone who can do that for us. Because it was immensely enjoyable. And I think you'd like it too."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, uncertainly:
"Do you think I can find someone like that?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, leaning in briefly to touch her lips to each of the stygian-haired young woman's cheeks:
"But I want us to still be... this. Sybelle and Emmie. And love each other and make each other happy and feel good."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, nodding softly as she looks toward the window:
"I think if you'd like Ra'al to do it, he would enjoy it and get better with practice, though I do not know how you feel for him."
At your seat, you say in sirihish:
"In truth... I have no significant feeling for the soldier. As I said... it was just... sex. And there was so much joy in that, at the moment, you know."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking to the stygian-haired young woman and smiling lovingly:
"But it was not the love I have for you, or with you."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, tilting her head forward, cheeks warm beneath your lips:
"I'm not sure how I feel about him either. I care for him, but... I don't know."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, nodding softly as she lifts her hand to slowly graze through the stygian-haired young woman's locks:
"More than those other things, though, I want you to do what makes you feel happy. And to know that no matter what kind of mistakes you make or regrets you have when..."
At your seat, you say in sirihish:
"done..."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, shrugging a single shoulder:
"I think I'll figure it out in time, if it moves slow. Everything went so fast before."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, beaming a smile at the stygian-haired young woman:
"It will not change how I feel for you. Not a bit. I will still love you. Even to the day I die."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, smiling softly, as she looks into your gaze:
"Even if it's with Ra'al?"
Something small nips on your back!
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, the smile faltering:
"Even if I let him inside of me, and he makes me pregnant, would you feel the same?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, holding out the vine-inked backs of her hands:
"Even if it's with Ra'al. Ra'al is not mine, he never was. I am not a fool enough to think that anymore."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking at the stygian-haired young woman and nodding softly:
"I will still feel the same. I love you, Sybelle. And if it brought you joy and love and hope... it would make me happy to know I could share those beautiful feelings with you."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking at her hands:
"The vines on the backs of my hands... are you."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, lightly taking your hand, and drawing it down so she can look at the back:
"Thank you, Emmie. I love you. I never noticed your tattoo before. Is it-"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling warmly as she looks at the inks:
"Permanently a part of me."
The stygian-haired young woman closes her eyes as she flushes a shade of red. Not pink, but a proper, full red.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking at the stygian-haired young woman with a warm, loving smile:
"The teardrops in my ears, at my throat... those are Ra'al. A source of sorrow and beauty, to be sure. But nothing I would want to be stuck with forever."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, biting on her lower lip:
"I... I want a tattoo for you. I've wanted one ever since I saw Anana's, but I didn't have a good reason, and I was afraid of the pain."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, softly:
"I made them to mourn him, as I told him I would. I loved the Ra'al I had not touched or tasted. The one who smelled of sweet water and fresh flowers. The one I kissed filled me with gall. And so I mourn the first."
The stygian-haired young woman quiets, and leans forward to brush a kiss to your cheeks, then lightly to your forehead. She threads her fingers through your hair and brushes it away from your face.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, eyes warm as she regards the stygian-haired young woman:
"Take as much time as you want or need. A decision you can't take back made hastily is sometimes worse than none at all."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette shivers as her hair's brushed back.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette's stomach growls quietly but insistently.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking toward a plain bag of cloth:
"Mind... if I have a fruit?"
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, shaking her head:
"No, no. I know that I want it. I just... would you be okay with that? I know that I'm copying you."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, warmly:
"Take as much as you like. Mine was safe."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking at the stygian-haired young woman and smiling warmly:
"Imitation is the only kind of flattery that works on me, beautiful Sybelle."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette gives the stygian-haired young woman a playful wink.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, impishly:
"Then I'd like to pick out a tattoo with you, some time soon."
Nibbling, tentatively, the stygian-haired young woman takes a bite of her ripe jallal fruit.
Pressing it into your hand with an approving nod, the stygian-haired young woman gives you her partially eaten ripe jallal fruit.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, flushing slightly as she smiles at the stygian-haired young woman:
"And if I found someone who did the same with me, to me, for me, would you be alright? Would you still feel the same?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling as she looks down at the fruit:
"Thank you."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, worrying anxiously at her lower lip:
"Do you want me to be completely honest?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking to the stygian-haired young woman and nodding softly:
"Yes. I try to always be honest with the people I love, and in truth, I consider anything less a very hurtful personal slight."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, softly:
"Though it took it happening several times for me to realize it."
The stygian-haired young woman nods her head once, as she swallows, and looks down to a plain bag of cloth.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, quietly, brow creasing:
"The thought makes me... jittery. Not jealous, not hurt, just upset, just... full of energy, like I have a storm in my chest. And it makes my want to touch myself, a lot. I'm not sure why I feel either of these."
Nibbling a little, the stygian-haired young woman takes a bite of her ripe jallal fruit.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, holding her partially eaten ripe jallal fruit out to you:
"Want another?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling faintly as she lifts your half eaten ripe jallal fruit to her lips again:
"No thank you. Not yet, at least."
[87/87|102/111|90/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|very light|dusk|Nekrete]
The stygian-haired young woman eats a portion of her partially eaten ripe jallal fruit, then sucks the juices greedily when they flow forth.
You eat part of your half eaten ripe jallal fruit, taking another big, honking, juice-spewing chomp of it.
You are a little hungry.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, glancing to you sidelong:
"Does that make any sense, feeling that way? Is it good? Is it bad? I don't understand it at all, but I don't understand any of this."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling genuinely at the stygian-haired young woman:
"I cannot promise you or I will always have this same love that we do now. But I can promise there will always be love, and it will always be good, if we are honest. It might hurt sometimes, but what love does not?"
The stygian-haired young woman looks to you, confusion and uncertainty in her gaze, but she nods her head a few times. Her arms loop around you and she leans into you to try and draw you into an embrace.
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette lays her head on the stygian-haired young woman's shoulder, wrapping her arm low and gently around her.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, quietly, as she squeezes you:
"I hope that you find someone that makes you feel as good as you make me feel."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, kissing the stygian-haired young woman's cheek gently:
"I hope you find someone that makes you feel as good as you make me feel, too."
The stygian-haired young woman withdraws from you and takes occasional bites from her half eaten ripe jallal fruit She swings her dangling legs back and forth, staring down at the ground with a distant, thoughtful expression.
You notice: The stygian-haired young woman chews slowly, unfocused on sweet morsel.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking to the stygian-haired young woman:
"What's on your mind, lovely?"
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, cheeks coloring slightly as she looks back to you:
"I don't understand anything that I'm feeling. It's so complicated. I wish someone would just come along and tell me what to do."
Outside the window, on the road below, the bald, bushy-browed man has arrived from the west.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, meeting your gaze:
"Does anything that I've said make sense?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, nodding softly as she looks over at the stygian-haired young woman:
"All of it. That was why I needed to leave."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, with a sheepish smile:
"I still don't know how I feel about it all."
At your seat, you say in sirihish:
"I'm glad you were there. I know that much."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, nodding her head, carefully:
"Okay. I... I love you. I know that much. An-"
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, giggling, as her features brighten:
"I'm glad I was there too. Oh, uhm, okay... I have another question."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, her nose wrinkling, a little:
"And I want your honest opinion."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling warmly as she nods at the stygian-haired young woman:
"Anything."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, lightly nudging her elbow against you:
"Should I save mine for someone I really love? You only get one, but... I want to know what it feels like."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, tone light-hearted, and curious:
"Does it hurt more than getting a tattoo or less?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, looking at the stygian-haired young woman for a long moment:
"It hurts the first time. I feel like I gave Ra'al a part of me I will never get back. And I don't think I want it back, now."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, shrugging one shoulder up:
"It hurts different than a tattoo. More, but for a shorter time. Afterwards, you'll be sore walking for a bit, though only the first time."
You grin.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, chewing slowly on her lower lip:
"So I'm going to have to figure it out on my own, huh?"
Outside the window, on the road below, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak has arrived from the west, humming mirthfully.
Outside the window, on the road below, a grey-feathered erdlu has arrived from the west.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, lifting a shoulder:
"Only what you want, really."
Outside the window, on the road below, leading him casually along, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak says something to a grey-feathered erdlu.
Outside the window, on the road below, looking aside quickly, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak says something to the man with the oiled, pointy beard.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, rubbing at the nape of her neck:
"I guess, yeah..."
At your seat, you say in sirihish:
"I can tell you the... physical parts. And the emotional parts. But I can't tell you how you will want them to fit together."
Outside the window, on the road below, the man with the oiled, pointy beard says something to the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak.
Outside the window, on the road below, The tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak's shoulders slump, and he hangs his head, sighing wearily.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, sadly, as she nudges the bag with the toe of her boot:
"I still don't know what I want."
Outside the window, on the road below, giving a small shake of his head, looking at him, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak says something to the man with the oiled, pointy beard.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, abruptly changing the subject:
"I have a weave that lets me travel. I- well, not me, but... It's complicated."
Outside the window, on the road below, the man with the oiled, pointy beard grins at the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak.
Outside the window, on the road below, The tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak snorts suddenly.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, lifting a finger to the stygian-haired young woman's lip and smiling:
"You don't have to figure it out. That's the beauty of it. I realized..."
Outside the window, on the road below, the man with the oiled, pointy beard says something to the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak.
Outside the window, on the road below, shrugging one shoulder, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak says something to the man with the oiled, pointy beard.
The stygian-haired young woman silences herself when your finger touches her lips, which still beneath your touch.
At your seat, you say in sirihish, laughing suddenly:
"I'm fucking mad. I have no idea what I want. You make me happy though, so I don't want it to be something that excludes you."
Outside the window, on the road below, Shaking his head sadly, the man with the oiled, pointy beard walks east.
Outside the window, on the road below, looking eastward, muttering under his breath, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak says something.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, confessing, almost relieved, against your fingers:
"I don't know what I want either."
The stygian-haired young woman kisses your fingertip, gingerly.
Outside the window, on the road below, patting him reassuringly, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak says something to a grey-feathered erdlu.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, sounding as though her own words were confusing even to her:
"If I can't find someone I want to take mine, Emmie, would you do it one day? I don't want to live my life without ever meeting someone who wants it."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling faintly as she looks down:
"That's why I was so jealous. I can't. Not...not the way he did. I can make you feel good though. And I want to."
Outside the window, on the road below, A grey-feathered erdlu twists its head about, scanning the surroundings.
Outside the window, on the road below, humming mirthfully, the tall figure in a drab, patchwork sandcloth cloak walks east.
Outside the window, on the road below, a grey-feathered erdlu walks east.
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, her nose wrinkling:
"Yeah, I know. It's not something that we can really do. But I still feel like I want you to."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, smiling faintly as she looks toward the dress and shoes laid out:
"As much as I'd love to stay... I either have to go to my temple to sleep, or I'm going to need to do it here in just a few minutes."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, pressing a kiss to your forehead:
"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you. Uhm... Rest well, Emmie. You can sleep here if you want. I don't care if I get fleas."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, smiling fondly:
"Can we still go to the Mantis Valley, one day?"
At your seat, you say in sirihish, nodding softly as she looks at the stygian-haired young woman, tightening her arm around her in an affectionate squeeze:
"I understand, my love, my Sybelle. I do. I wish I could do it. If I could, I wouldn't have been jealous of not being able to for you."
At your seat, you say in sirihish, nodding again:
"Of course. I just have to get better at my magicks so I can take you more easily, and make it be safe."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, exhaling a sigh as she leans into your squeeze:
"I know. I don't know if your fingers or long enough, and a rock or bone sounds... terrible. Ugh. No."
At your seat, the stygian-haired young woman says in sirihish, nose wrinkling again:
"I just wish you could take it. Even if it's not intimate, or anything like that. I wish I could give it to you."
Leaning in and brushing her lips across her earlobe gently, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"I could try to... shape the winds... like with your breasts... when we were, you know, together."
Shaking her head, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"But not now, not while I'm still itchy and covered in muck and shame."
Agreeably nodding her head, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I'm... not ready yet, either. I don't think I am. I'm not sure. I want to know what it feels like but the thought... When I think about it I just-"
Something small bites your neck, and you grunt as you shake your head!
Cutting herself off, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Sleep. Right! Uhm..."
Hopping to her feet, the stygian-haired young woman stands up from a grey, bone-framed bed.
Drawing it out, the stygian-haired young woman gets her green-black sandcloth cloak from a squat bone dresser.
Affectionately, the stygian-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:
"Lay back?"
Scratching at her neck and giving an apologetic smile, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"Still itches... I'm so sorry I keep like kicking and wincing and shaking my head and such. It's not intentional."
Wryly grinning, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Don't apologize. It's cute."
Draping it over your naked body, the stygian-haired young woman gives you her green-black sandcloth cloak, tucking it in below your chin.
Nodding her head, once, the stygian-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:
"To keep the wind from waking you."
With a shy smile, you say to the stygian-haired young woman, in sirihish:
"I can just picture how beautiful you look... it makes me smile.... when you are sitting on the edge of a chair, chewing on a bimbal leaf and your hair falls in your eyes, and you don't know I am seeing you."
The stygian-haired young woman's cheeks flush as she smiles down at you, the expression drawn wide.
Eyes closing, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"It's so wonderful to see you looking so unself-conscious and not halting in what you do or questioning it, but just lost in thought. It's captivating."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette snuggles under the cloak shivering only for a moment, before she starts to doze.
The stygian-haired young woman leans forward and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then sweeps your hair away from your face.
Fingertips brushing across your cheek, the stygian-haired young woman whispers to you, in sirihish:
"Sleep well, Emmie. I love you, my whira."
The rawboned, slate-eyed brunette falls asleep almost instantly with the stygian-haired young woman's touch and kiss.
Half-asleep, you whisper to the stygian-haired young woman in sirihish:
"Love you, Sybelle. You're my oasis in this scorched, forsaken wasteland."
[87/87|102/111|89/90|117/117][Vis|not flying]
[sitting on: a grey, bone-framed bed|easily manageable|early morning|Waleuk]
Come back soon!
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