02-23-2022, 11:31 PM
open hand or closed fist would be fine
--rosemary
the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine
There’s hardly anything that Rosemary loves more than a warm reception to her advances. It swallows her whole, the pleasure of being welcomed by drunken, dark arms. She smiles down at Obscene, pale eyes glittering down at the fallen prince’s slack visage.
Rose practically purrs to herself when Obscene’s aura reveals itself to her. Some creature’s secrets take intimate coaxing to reveal themselves; and that is just what she does, stroke the little intricacies of the stranger until they tell her what she wants. The shadows behind Obscene’s eyes are deterred by his persistent youthfulness. Something about the way he relaxes now tells Rosemary that despite the nectar, he handles others with ease. She wonders if the charitable way he offers his nectar now is how generous he always is.
The colors that swirl around him are obscured by the aura’s main shroud of blackness. Sparks of red and gold flash—like falling glitter—effortlessly amongst shadows. Rose cannot contain the pleased smile that splits her lips. She gently settles onto her side, aquamarine gaze deciding amongst bowls.
“I suppose it can be, yes?” she answers, then sips delicately at the bowl closest to her. The taste is nearly saccharine, but Rose finds herself taking to it easily—proof of her affinity shown in the two big draughts she takes after. Already feeling the slight buzz of early intoxication, she swings her head around to peer at her lazily splayed out companion.
A small, sensual laugh slips lightly past Rose’s mouth. She cocks her head as she observes Obscene, noting all the small things his aura reveals to her.
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” she purrs, blinking slowly. She turns her head to clear another bowl of its nectar and snorts at the sticky liquid catching at her throat. “Something tells me you’re even more restless,” Rose adds coyly, eyes twinkling with her best imitation of innocent mischief.
“I can start. I hate happy families. They smother me. I want to live in danger. Your turn,” Rose says, chancing a gentle nudge at Obscene’s ribs.
Rose practically purrs to herself when Obscene’s aura reveals itself to her. Some creature’s secrets take intimate coaxing to reveal themselves; and that is just what she does, stroke the little intricacies of the stranger until they tell her what she wants. The shadows behind Obscene’s eyes are deterred by his persistent youthfulness. Something about the way he relaxes now tells Rosemary that despite the nectar, he handles others with ease. She wonders if the charitable way he offers his nectar now is how generous he always is.
The colors that swirl around him are obscured by the aura’s main shroud of blackness. Sparks of red and gold flash—like falling glitter—effortlessly amongst shadows. Rose cannot contain the pleased smile that splits her lips. She gently settles onto her side, aquamarine gaze deciding amongst bowls.
“I suppose it can be, yes?” she answers, then sips delicately at the bowl closest to her. The taste is nearly saccharine, but Rose finds herself taking to it easily—proof of her affinity shown in the two big draughts she takes after. Already feeling the slight buzz of early intoxication, she swings her head around to peer at her lazily splayed out companion.
A small, sensual laugh slips lightly past Rose’s mouth. She cocks her head as she observes Obscene, noting all the small things his aura reveals to her.
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” she purrs, blinking slowly. She turns her head to clear another bowl of its nectar and snorts at the sticky liquid catching at her throat. “Something tells me you’re even more restless,” Rose adds coyly, eyes twinkling with her best imitation of innocent mischief.
“I can start. I hate happy families. They smother me. I want to live in danger. Your turn,” Rose says, chancing a gentle nudge at Obscene’s ribs.
@Obscene