Cyrine hears the woman call out to her over Anastasias moaning. Debating for a moment, to try to pass herself off as a servitor -mindlessly mumbling and moaning as she went about her assigned task.<br/><br/>However, that wasn't what part of the dance. The delicate game of oneupsmanship she and the Captain were already engaged in.  Cyrine clacks the gladstone around in her mouth, turning the thoughts of remaining silent, into flames of challenge.<br/><br/>She adjusts herself, pulling her hand slowly out of her pants, she debates suckling her fingertips clean...but then thinks of a better use. She adjusts herself with her left hand, running her hand through the flame red locks.  Cyrine kicks the door open, turning the charm on as she saunters in. Her lanky frame taking broad steps towards the pair. She shoots a jet of air upwards from her lips, to dislodge a strand of stuck curly hair from her forehead. "Can the attitude princess.." she grumbles, "Way I see it you should be licking my boots on account of working up this fine piece of tail you're woefully  pounding away on."<br/><br/>Of course Cyrine doesn't mean a word of it, but the stranger doesn't know that. "But seeing as you've got your hands full,you can get to that after..."<br/>She clacks away at her gladstone, standing back to watch the two continue their dance. The thick, pulsing member pistoning into the beautiful captain did very little to sate the Remembrancers lust. She bites her lower lips hard, taking stray pictos of the details. The sweat along the back of the strangers neck, the hollow of the captains throat.  The um..protrusion hammering away. She can only assume how such a woman would acquire such a sizable member. The tail...the phallus.  All blessings of Slaanesh.<br/><br/>The redhead swallows, as she feels that strange familiar feeling bubbling up in her gut. Ever since she was a child, when she came across anything even slightly reminiscent of the Chaos gods, she'd ...phase out.  Her mind wandering to the point it felt as if it was drowning out among a vast sea of energy, whirling around her at a terrifying pace.  She had feared since the time she was a child that this reaction to the demonic   implied latent psyker tendencies.  She never told a soul about these overwhelming sensations, and thus set about to handle them in the best (yet most unintentionally dangerous) manner she could.<br/><br/>To Cyrine, the best way  to combat the zone of the choas gods - was to indulge in it momentarily. Copious use of narcotics, and indulgence in sex, distracted her mind enough to keep it from fully tumbling into the warp(for now).  She knew it was a dangerous line she walked of course, knowing too much indulgence would indeed deliver her to the feet of  Slaanesh. But to teasingly dance at the chaos Gods feet, was better in her mind then being found out, and hunted by the Inquisition.  Sure she'd have the same problem if she fully fell to the Chaos gods corruption - but at the moment....dancing close to the devil was better than running.<br/>So, set to sate her desire, and hopefully push back the episode she felt coming on, Cyrine wastes no time.  She steps towards Ana, prying the fingers from her mouth, and tilts the woman’s head upwards, planting a frantic kiss against the womans lip, devouring the breathless sighs and gasps of pleasure.<br/><br/>"Move." she barks grasping ahold of Anas hips and pushing her onto the endowed womans length. She maneuvers herself between Ana, and the bulkhead, wrapping her long, tattooed arms over the woman’s torso. Her hands pressed flat against the captains stomach, as they started to trail down between her thighs. Her fingertips 'walk' over the captains mound, and atop the endowed woman’s length, gently teasing them both as they went about their business.  The digits move back upwards, moving the fingers that were ever so recently in her own nethers, into the captains mouth.<br/><br/>Cyrines eyes start to lid in pleasure, indulging in the view.  The slick flesh entering slick flesh, the grunts of pleasure.  She raises a hand to the strangers’ throat, cupping her chin she coos in a husky voice, "Not a word."  With one hand upon each woman, and her back against the bulkhead, Cyrine just watches, reveling in the intimacy and the lust almost as much as if she was involved in the acts directly herself. Ever conscious of the delicate game she and the Captain played, she takes the chance to whisper  into Anastasias ear, hot, breathless words, "You miss me cap'n?"<br/><br/><b>((TL;dr - Cyrine intrudes. Explains use of sex/drugs to fade out psyker episodes. Is flawed. Will fall . ETC. ))</b><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>