[@AzureKnight][hr]As she held the glasses, Tiziana would feel her tentacles growing weaker by the second, as she sussed out the immense Magic Suppression Ritual put on them. Before she could mull on what a Witch was doing with such an limiting magical item, without speaking a word in affirmation or dismissal, said Witch would snatch her treasures with the same speed she'd toppled Tiziana's Doppelganger.

"[color=848884]Don't your lies smells like sunshine and rainbows,[/color]" John says, as she strolled around Tiziana, putting Alina in a box. "[color=848884]You'll have to forgive me for not showering for... however long as I was in transit. It would seem, my cargo container wasn't fitted for such amenities,[/color]" she says, "[color=848884]Not that I could have enjoyed them much in a coma, anyways.[/color]"

Tiziana would feel air flow against her left side nape, as John was, suddenly, standing before her, and sniffing her from her nape to her crown. Progenies of potions, Witches had the noses that knows all, and she wouldn't forget the natural scent that she bore. "[color=848884]Lascuta,[/color]" John says, suddenly, behind Tiziana, finger walking down her right arm, before taking her hand - committing the lewd act of holding hands in public.

In truth, she was memorizing Tiziana's spiritual flame, her Ki, "[color=848884]Such a temperate flame; well-kindled, yet kept cooled and flowing. This a very palatable Ki.[/color]"

"[color=848884][i]I'll remember you for helping,[/i][/color]" John whispered into her ears, before she was gone - strolling down an alleyway. In the split-second that she'd moved, John was dressed to the nines, or, [color=848884][i]My usual affair,[/i][/color] as she would put it, and striding off; Vision bouncing off the back of her head.

However, Tiziana's body was still vibing with the warmth of the once naked woman; even through her dress, and her natural defenses of moisture, the strange Witch had burned through with her warmth - leaving the phantasmal impression of her naked body lingering on Tiziana's, the warmth of her face upon her head, and the indecent hand-holding burning her palm, as the sensation crawl up it.

From crown to toe, she was enveloped in an impossible, fleeting warmth from the departing woman.

Now, Tiziana had a fresh dilemma: continue on her path to seek the gladiatorial arena, or give chase to someone she might never cross paths with again in a city as large as this. If she needed an excuse for the latter, she'd easily spy the rather regal-looking box that was in the crate John had "hatched" from so explosively.

Even from a distance, she could tell it was worth more money than a simple parcel box.

Returning it would be a [color=0072bc][i]helpful[/i][/color] thing, no?