• Memory • Sing to me your lies, whisper me your truth

[Zana]

Reflection.

It was one of the domains over which she had mastery, something that she manipulated in a way that no mortal could. She was aware of it on a level which there were not words for. It was hers and in that moment, reflection was what they achieved. Her hand moved to him, his face to her. It was like they were watching each other reflected in a mirror.

Which must be why, when he smiled she did the same.

Perhaps it was that lack of judgement which allowed her to speak, or perhaps some part of them resonated on the same level. Maybe it was his eyes; so like Jaq's eyes in their swirling colours. Whatever it was, Zana knew enough to know that it did not matter what, it only mattered that right now, in this moment, she was speaking something which she had told no one.

And then, of all things, she asked him on a date. Why had she done that? Zana was a composed woman and so did not hitch up her skirts and leg it out of there, but she would have lied had she said that the image wasn't a clear and rather tempting one.

Yet, in his smile and his words there was acceptance and Zana watched him with a feeling of vulnerability which was more than rare to the mortalborn woman. "What if we just continue to warble along for a while?" Zana smiled at him and watched him as his gaze turned to their hands together. Touch, of a non-sexual kind, was something which had once been very important to Zana. Jaq and she had been constantly tactile, gaining comfort and pleasure in equal measure from that physical contact. Since him, she had not engaged with this kind of simple proximity.

She had, she realised, missed it.

"Sometimes, maybe. Maybe that's what I sell; the illusion of what it could be, rather than the reality of what it is." Zana chuckled slightly. "Or maybe I over think things." It was true, she always had.

And there, when he stumbled and tried to think what to say, Zana jumped to a hundred different conclusions, none of them good. Again, the urge to run was almost overwhelming; to retreat to where there was safety and she was in control. Yet she stayed where she was and her hand in his tightened just a little. Then, though, he answered and she let out her breath which she had not realised she was holding. Zana looked at him and a smile lifted her lips. "It's the silver blood. But yes," leaning forward she kissed him. During his visit to her place of work, she'd kissed him to tempt him, to tease him, to make demands. This was a gentle expression of what she wanted to do, nothing else.

"Just me." She considered it for a moment and then added with an entirely deadpan expression. "Unless you want me to bring my stuffed panda? His name is Mister Tricks." Smiling, she leaned over and rested her head against his shoulder. "I've never asked anyone out on a date before. You were my first." He could feel the smile even though he couldn't see her, nestled into his arms as she had put herself. "How was it for you?"

I'm so very picturesque, I'm so very cold.
Taste like roses on my breath. Graveyards on my soul

[Pash Raj'oriq]

He felt her fingers tighten around his while he fished for the right thing to say, watching the blonde and realizing that her own words made her skittish. She was comfortable with her literal clothes off, with her pale skin on display, but revealing who she kept to herself behind the veil of flesh was scary. She tensed like a frightened animal or a startled bird about to bolt, and he could almost see the tension of her emotions without even using his magical sight. He did not move his hand to release her, however, and instead slowly she relaxed again and smiled at him—she asked him for his time. Whatever she wanted to call it, it didn’t matter.

Today, he had plenty of time to give.

“I don’ think y’ overthink things, but I also don’ think most folks have any desire t’ look past what they want t’ see, ‘r what they see on th’ surface.”

Pash often suffered from not thinking things through enough, not from over-thinking. That said, he always looked beyond the surface, too curious to be satisfied with face value. He was the kid who saw through all the magic tricks his uncle pretended at, who watched the man’s slight of hand with an unflinching gaze, but he was also the kid that said nothing, that kept the satisfaction of knowing secrets to himself so that no one else had the illusion ruined for them forever. Some of that had changed over time, but some of that had not.

“M’ blood? Nah. That’s jus’ th’ surprise part, I think I—“ The Biqaj was about to feign offense at the mortalborn’s retort, but she punctuated their shared words with a kiss and Pash stopped talking to savor it instead. Regardless of her personal justifications, taken outside of the context of what was familiar, or at least what had already been, he was silenced because he was briefly confused, caught for a trill or two between their amusing agreement and what could be. While there were no further requirements and clearly no expectations in that moment, it meant that the brush of her lips had no strings attached—purse strings, specifically but more metaphorical ones, too.

“Jus’ you, please an’ thank you.” He repeated, quieter, not finding it necessary to finish his previous defense of his attractive person regardless of time of day nor sure whether he could be responsible for a stuffed bear. He shifted how he was seated to accommodate her further taking over of his personal space, clearly not offended by the closeness or touch of anyone with good intentions, despite how her particular closeness and her particular touch made him feel—still? again?—on not just the inside. He was no less a physical person than she was, it seemed, finding comfort and a sort of internal grounding through touch, no matter what the intention. Pash was the type of creature who often reached for something in full knowledge that he’d be harmed, however, simply for the experience and the need of touching it.

“How was it? Well … it was interestin’.”

Pash laughed warmly then, taunting her with his previous offensive phrase, his tone of voice more coy than anything else, her claim that he was her first to be asked such a thing threatening to bring color back to his cheeks. His inked arms found the comfortable places where she clearly wanted them as she settled against him on the sand, under the suns, “Y’know, y’ didn’t really ask me anythin’, Zana. Y’ told me. So, y’ need t’ work on your delivery a bit, in m’ opinion. If y’ want me t’ take you anywhere on a date, daughter of Vanity—” the seafaring musician all but purred his title of endearment, just as aware of her smile as he grinned to whisper his last sentence against her ear,

“—you’ll have t’ give up bein’ entirely in charge.”

If he was to teach her, she’d have to be his student. If he was to take her out, she’d have to be his date. It was, of course, difficult to explain the intricacies, but the mortalborn prostitute was clearly used to being in control, even if that control was simply in projecting an illusion of helplessness for one of her customers, it was still a game of power.

The give in take of a real relationship, friendship or otherwise, was, when honest and real, vastly different from what was fantasized for coin within the sensual isolation of a brothel.

[Zana]

Just her? That was something which was, so to speak, easier said than done. Zana could give her body without thought or question, it was hers to give and there was mutual pleasure and coin to be gained. But just her? That was a prospect which was at once both tantalizing and terrifying.

He shifted where he sat, accommodating her and Zana smiled in pleasure at that; the simple gesture but a familiar one. His response to her kissing him was the entirely expected, usual physical one but it was more, too. It was strange, she thought, so very strange to kiss someone and have them kiss her back not knowing where it would lead. Not doing it for any reason other than the pleasure of it, the desire to do it.

If that was true of a kiss, Zana's mind flew to her suggestion that they made love under the stars and she felt a most unusual tingle of anticipation. Would they do that? They might, or might not and that not knowing was at once intriguing and a little bit terrifying.

It was interesting?

Her snort of laughter joined his and she lifted her head to look at him as he teased her with his word of earlier. But his arm wrapped around her and the position of being nestled against him was just too comfortable and so she returned to it. His voice, deep and baritone as it was, resonated in his chest and she listened with eyes half-closed. His whispered words caused a reaction from her, a physical sensation of his breath tickling against her. She'd have to give up being in charge? That prompted a sigh from the prostitute.

"That scares me," she admitted without guile. "But it makes me tingle in my toes, too. I'll do my best." No quips, no teasing, just an honest answer for that one. It wouldn't be something that she was used to, it wouldn't be easy for her. Yet, for her it was a very desirable and fascinating experience. Where would it lead? Zana had no idea. None at all, but in the right now, she knew what she wanted. More than anything, in fact, she had one very clear desire.

"Show me your world, Pash?" Zana asked, lifting her head to look at him. It was like seeing her without make up, her expression entirely honest. "Please?"

Mercy please, I'm on my knees. You're my temptation
Testing my faith, the Devil's awake. You're my temptation

[Aeon]

Pash

Skill Knowledge:

Rhetoric: Naughty riposte
Rhetoric: Sharing what hurt you
Detection: The helpless part is a lie
Business Management: Skilled work is worth the coin
Lute: Playing your feelings when words won’t do
Teaching: Reluctant magic teacher
Teaching: Music, you can teach
Psychology: Wearing your heart on your sleeve, er, in your eyes
Seduction: Knowing you look good in the dark

Other Knowledge:

Zana: One good tug
Zana: Not a stitch
Zana: Thinking of you
Zana: Wants you to be her teacher
Zana: Likes that you didn’t fake it
Zana: Older than expected
[NPC] Jaq: Zana’s first handler
[NPC] Jaq: Couldn’t handle Zana’s powers
[NPC] Jaq: Died alone

Loot:

N/A

Injuries:

N/A

Fame:

N/A

Devotion:

N/A

Magic:

These points can NOT be used for Domain Magic

Points awarded:

15

Zana

Skill Knowledge:

Cosmetology: Accessories on clothing
Cosmetology: Blue clothing accentuates your eyes
Musical Instrument: Gittern: Casual strumming
Musical Instrument: Gittern: Comfortable hold
Persuasion: Point out the flaws in a (stupid) argument
Persuasion: Explain why you're obviously right
Psychology: Be proud of being an egotist
Psychology: Being a prostitute is about power
Seduction: Discussions about clothing can lead to all sorts of places.
Seduction: Memory of passion can reignite the flame
Singing: Outdoors is a unique amphitheater
Singing: Performing a song you can hear in your head

Other Knowledge:

Loot:

N/A

Injuries:

N/A

Fame:

N/A

Devotion:

N/A

Magic:

These points can NOT be used for Domain Magic

Points awarded:

15

Comment:

What an adorable thread, truly. I enjoyed the dialogue and the dynamic between the characters so very much, to the point where it made me sad that I was reading it by myself, in an empty apartment. Well done guys!

Feel free to PM me if you have any questions or concerns. Have a wonderful day!