Igraine Member
- Last Seen: 10 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Igraine
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
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- Igraine 12 yrs ago
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HA! Yes, that sounds like an unbelievable amount of win AND de-stressing, so glad for you Dot!
Oh so sorry Dot >< Well... Just don't get you fired, hon. *gently gives the temple massage of serenity* I've been know for the awesome neck and shoulder rubs too. Serenity now hon, serenity now...
Wordsmith, did you just pretty much flat out say Veti is, well... Morbidly obese? 30 stone!?!?
Fun post, WOW do I love Nestor! XD
Fun post, WOW do I love Nestor! XD
Not a problem Idle, and looking forward to whatever you can get put up during your down time, hon.
Good morning everyone (still morning here, I've got about ten minutes to say it!) Hope you all are having a great one, and very much looking forward to more good reading! The snow has cleared enough I can get my car out of the driveway, so it'll be off to the first one one of my classes at the very least - and since I fully expect a touch of 'first day boredom,' you all are my answer ;)
"Non, non mon petit chou-chou," whispered a warm voice laced with spice, the woman's lush, crimson-painted lips beside the boy's ear as he moved with the customer's tankard of grog, toward his table in the shadowy back. "I will take care of him tonight, Luc - oh, don't look so sad, sweet boy. You are doing a brilliant job. Your Maman would be proud, not a drop spilt! Go on now... "
Her hands full, the dusky woman's hip swayed softly as she stood back up to her full height. "There, in the purse - go on, you take a reale for this night. Give it straight to your Maman - and I'll know if you don't Luc!" At the sound of her low, musical laugh, the boy's dark eyes lifted up, sparkling with an impish delight as his hand emerged from the night blue purse at the woman's waist with the silver-stamped coin between his small fingers. The young woman nodded her assent, the tiny, clever silver bells stitched into the edges of her pale silken head wrap tinkling merrily as the child scooted away with the still-filled tankard.
She watched after Luc for a moment, perhaps a touch of wistfulness lingering in those kohl-rimmed grey eyes, before she returned to the "business" at hand. The soft hiss of her sapphire blue skirts followed in her wake, the delicate ivory of the lace edging the sleeves contrasting prettily against the warm, caramel skin of her arm.
"When will you stop ordering that piss water grog, Thomas?" Antonia asked, a small lift of those brilliant lips as she bent beside him at the table, a lovely eyeful of her generous décolletage accompanying the heavy plate and the tankard she set so expertly before him. Fresh bread and a hunk of good cheese, a still steaming rack of blood red roast aside thick slices of papaya fruit.
"You may adore your Dusk Skate, lovely man," she teased as one, tapering fingertip tapped lightly against the tankard she'd brought herself, "But she will never make you so sweet as your little thief. You drink the bumbo I bring you." One graceful hand wafted over the tankard as she leaned forward, a genuinely precarious moment for the straining neckline of her bodice as she breathed in deeply. "Nutmeg... Sugar and rum... Delicious... "
Slowly she stood, moving to stand behind the pirate captain, her arms wrapped loosely about his shoulders as she bent to his ear, her soft lips whispering a new song, yet familiar enough between them, while he ate. The smile on her lips would read to any casual observer, a woman plying her 'wares' most effectively, the soft whispers and the tender, knowing fingers of one hand that played almost absently with the ends of Thomas' auburn and golden hair.
The truth of those words may have been a... A touch surprising, perhaps, were anyone else able to hear them, these little snippets of talk. But Antonia stood where she would, where she chose to be, at Thomas' back.
"A strange bird, your new helmsman - the smiling man Jax with no love for women on a ship, not on their backs. He went on a walkabout, he did. Aye, you do know I was afraid at first, the poor man might have to have a terrible, tragic accident, if he'd been making for some of les voleurs... "
"Now you just take that grin off your face, Thomas. I'm almost sincere on that score! Even I can see he's a fine helmsman, navigator - and he loves the Dusk Skate well. Very well. Truly and deeply, I must say... Ha! Half-expected him to insist on some 'alone time' in the hull 'fore he finally left... "
"Oh yes, to Havana first, then Cadiz. It's as good as done, 'tis a haul like no other we've seen in some time... Oh... Oh no, the Clear Plume's captain shan't be waking for a good night, nor found for a good day or two, we've all the time we need... "
Antonia's hand slipped down, over his chest, the pistols, languidly making its way to his belt where she lingered, fingers slipping beneath the thick leather for some moments, palming a piece of parchment against the soft skin of his belly, coordinates and ship's names, destinations and ship plans...
"... You do know if she joins you for gleek this night, I'm laying even odds she wipes the floor with you, lovely man. You are all risk, Thomas, where she tolerates none. Oh, this should be a grand showing, and I wouldn't miss it for all the world. But I'll be there this night, at the Black Boar. You won't see me of course, but we can't have my lovely man's back laid bare in the night, can we?"
Antonia moved to Thomas' side, reaching to gently cradle his chin in her hand as she turned those lovely copper eyes to her own grey gaze. The young woman smiled, and bent to press a kiss to the side of his mouth, his cheek, leaving a crimson impression behind as she pulled back, grinning wickedly.
"There we go now, well-marked. How I love to see you like this, Thomas. All my world lacks now, dear Silver Fish, is the soft music of your snoring." She caressed his cheek with the pad of her thumb before she stood to her full height once more. "Tonight then, and have another tankard of the bumbo before you leave. You'll thank me, lovely man."
Her hands full, the dusky woman's hip swayed softly as she stood back up to her full height. "There, in the purse - go on, you take a reale for this night. Give it straight to your Maman - and I'll know if you don't Luc!" At the sound of her low, musical laugh, the boy's dark eyes lifted up, sparkling with an impish delight as his hand emerged from the night blue purse at the woman's waist with the silver-stamped coin between his small fingers. The young woman nodded her assent, the tiny, clever silver bells stitched into the edges of her pale silken head wrap tinkling merrily as the child scooted away with the still-filled tankard.
She watched after Luc for a moment, perhaps a touch of wistfulness lingering in those kohl-rimmed grey eyes, before she returned to the "business" at hand. The soft hiss of her sapphire blue skirts followed in her wake, the delicate ivory of the lace edging the sleeves contrasting prettily against the warm, caramel skin of her arm.
"When will you stop ordering that piss water grog, Thomas?" Antonia asked, a small lift of those brilliant lips as she bent beside him at the table, a lovely eyeful of her generous décolletage accompanying the heavy plate and the tankard she set so expertly before him. Fresh bread and a hunk of good cheese, a still steaming rack of blood red roast aside thick slices of papaya fruit.
"You may adore your Dusk Skate, lovely man," she teased as one, tapering fingertip tapped lightly against the tankard she'd brought herself, "But she will never make you so sweet as your little thief. You drink the bumbo I bring you." One graceful hand wafted over the tankard as she leaned forward, a genuinely precarious moment for the straining neckline of her bodice as she breathed in deeply. "Nutmeg... Sugar and rum... Delicious... "
Slowly she stood, moving to stand behind the pirate captain, her arms wrapped loosely about his shoulders as she bent to his ear, her soft lips whispering a new song, yet familiar enough between them, while he ate. The smile on her lips would read to any casual observer, a woman plying her 'wares' most effectively, the soft whispers and the tender, knowing fingers of one hand that played almost absently with the ends of Thomas' auburn and golden hair.
The truth of those words may have been a... A touch surprising, perhaps, were anyone else able to hear them, these little snippets of talk. But Antonia stood where she would, where she chose to be, at Thomas' back.
"A strange bird, your new helmsman - the smiling man Jax with no love for women on a ship, not on their backs. He went on a walkabout, he did. Aye, you do know I was afraid at first, the poor man might have to have a terrible, tragic accident, if he'd been making for some of les voleurs... "
"Now you just take that grin off your face, Thomas. I'm almost sincere on that score! Even I can see he's a fine helmsman, navigator - and he loves the Dusk Skate well. Very well. Truly and deeply, I must say... Ha! Half-expected him to insist on some 'alone time' in the hull 'fore he finally left... "
"Oh yes, to Havana first, then Cadiz. It's as good as done, 'tis a haul like no other we've seen in some time... Oh... Oh no, the Clear Plume's captain shan't be waking for a good night, nor found for a good day or two, we've all the time we need... "
Antonia's hand slipped down, over his chest, the pistols, languidly making its way to his belt where she lingered, fingers slipping beneath the thick leather for some moments, palming a piece of parchment against the soft skin of his belly, coordinates and ship's names, destinations and ship plans...
"... You do know if she joins you for gleek this night, I'm laying even odds she wipes the floor with you, lovely man. You are all risk, Thomas, where she tolerates none. Oh, this should be a grand showing, and I wouldn't miss it for all the world. But I'll be there this night, at the Black Boar. You won't see me of course, but we can't have my lovely man's back laid bare in the night, can we?"
Antonia moved to Thomas' side, reaching to gently cradle his chin in her hand as she turned those lovely copper eyes to her own grey gaze. The young woman smiled, and bent to press a kiss to the side of his mouth, his cheek, leaving a crimson impression behind as she pulled back, grinning wickedly.
"There we go now, well-marked. How I love to see you like this, Thomas. All my world lacks now, dear Silver Fish, is the soft music of your snoring." She caressed his cheek with the pad of her thumb before she stood to her full height once more. "Tonight then, and have another tankard of the bumbo before you leave. You'll thank me, lovely man."
hahahaha XD Awwwwwww! Now I want him to make choo-choo noises, all aboard the Adam golem train!
Nerd flags a-flying! I love it!
OK, so posted - and Wordsmith, if I stepped over a line there? Please do let me know, and I'll edit it immediately! Whatever you had in mind for Nestor, shouldn't have been interrupted if you planned to finish that move anyway. And if there was something about him she should have known/felt? Well by all means tell me, and edits are easy as always.
OK, so posted - and Wordsmith, if I stepped over a line there? Please do let me know, and I'll edit it immediately! Whatever you had in mind for Nestor, shouldn't have been interrupted if you planned to finish that move anyway. And if there was something about him she should have known/felt? Well by all means tell me, and edits are easy as always.
Veti clung like a giant red tick to the face of the blinded anubus, ebony claws buried unshakably in its face. She groaned deep in her throat, in dreadful time with the blast wave that followed, losing any hope of sight of Daisy and Artie, Semyon, Nestor... The golem? The strangely gentle-seeming rusalka and that idiot mummy and the pale, high-strung elf he couldn't stop himself molesting? All lost beneath rock and rubble, hidden even from her sight and senses.
From her perch on the anubus' face, she was spared the worst of the magical fires, but none of the panic that threatened to squeeze her heart in a vise of terror.
"Daisy? DAISY!?" she howled, though she might never know if even her powerful voice could carry over the tons of crumbling stone and plaster, and the supernatural inferno created by the anubus' khopesh. "Nestor? SEMYON!?" Amber eyes frantically scanned the settling rubble and -
"Tamarind!" If she weren't a giant, heavily-muscled bad-ass werewolf bitch on a mission, she might have teared up, just a little, with relief. Semyon still stood at the least - and Nestor! Nestor was doing some crazy ass damn thing or other just beyond her sight, but when the hell wasn't he a fucking lunatic? It was half his charm.
And if he needed a distraction to do whatever the hell it was that crazy bastard had in mind, Veti had his back. In a single swift motion she holstered the Desert Eagle and then pulled her freed up arm back, cocked with all the unspeakable, obscene strength and power in a werewolf's limbs, and slammed her fist into the stone giant's head. Again. Again and again and again.
Veti had no idea if these constructs actually had anything like a brain within these seeming skulls, or could feel anything like pain, but the werewolf's every blow tore away great chunks of its head, as if she'd drill straight to its brain. Whatever the hell Nestor was up to back there, Veti was going to make damn sure, this thing had no chance in hell of noticing any goddamn thing at all, but the werewolf knocking oh-so-politely at its fucking skull.
It was the voice of a goddess ringing through her head, the words of Isis the only thing that could have pulled Veti at that moment from drilling herself straight through the anubus' head if she had to.
The Guardians.
Smash all of you to dust.
Yeah, that got through. From the corner of her eye, the werewolf saw the divine kite swoop and dive, attacking the construct her very self. In that instant Veti the woman knew she might always regret never having the chance to spend more time in Her presence, but the Wolf obeyed without question.
In a flash she was up and over the back of the anubus' onyx skull, knowing she'd find Nestor on the other side. Without even so much as a 'salutations and how do you do?' Veti leapt for the demonspawn, enclosing him in her powerful arms, wrapping his body to her chest protectively and taking the most direct route to the ground below she could think of.
Straight down.
The impact from such a height with the broken marble floor would have shattered the spine, the skull and the pelvis of any natural creature in the known world. Thank every unnatural magic known to her lover's prodigious and brilliant mind, werewolves were anything but "entirely natural." The breath whooshed out of her in a rush, the agony burning like hellfire to tell her there'd be great, purple bruises for days and days the length of the woman's back - but Veti rolled to her side, releasing Nestor from her cradling grip to the floor beside them.
The werewolf groaned deep in her throat, managing to get to all fours as she shook her head, clearing it swiftly before her eyes scoured the choking clouds of ash and plaster. "Daisy!? ARTIE!?" she cried, straining to catch any sight of bubblegum pink and ebony.
Hello Heroes, and everyone! *waves* Snowed in here yet again, so not doing much of anything at all but some of the school reading I have assigned; new term of school just started! So reading, more reading, even if first day of cancelled - and then being entertained as people post, of course. So much lovely not-school-reading to do here as well, you all are wonderful!
So reading, more reading, even if first day of cancelled - and then being entertained as people post, of course. So much lovely not-school-reading to do here as well, you all are wonderful!
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