Will of the One<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br/><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana & Bryseis<br/><br/>She felt Ihaana's presence before she saw the aasimar. A familiar scent - iron, sweat, desire. The sweat she had licked, the slickness she had tasted many times before. Then the clear, almost melodic ring of Ihaana's voice, rising between the sighs and breaths and rustling of fabrics. Rysse's lip curled, playful and knowing. She took a long drag from the silvery pipe and the metallic dragon's eyes flickered deep purple. A hit of bitter, tarry heat. Rysse held her breath in and then exhaled. A tail of vapour flickered from her black-painted lips.<br/><br/>"Here, angel," she said with her usual wisp of irony and handed Ihaana the pipe, "Gehenna Thistle - they grow it in amphorae inscribed with broken promises and feed it warm tears."<br/><br/>Rysse sat crouching, her touch lazily trailing the skin of Ihaana's thighs, tracing each tattoo, following the swerve and path of the ink on golden skin. The script and pictures seemed to flow, flaring to life and dancing madly - a Pandemonium of endless revelry feeding itself. Rysse swallowed and felt her throat dry. She licked her lips and raising a half-empty flask of Baatorian firewater, drank.<br/><br/>It was harsh - tasting of pitch and razors. She felt a rush of heat flood her. That mingled with the delicious tension in her belly and the tight, swampy wetness of her swollen sex still half-sheated in tight leather. Her nipples felt almost uncomfortably stiff - fat and porphyry-dark on her heavy breasts - the left pierced with a silver cold iron ring. Githyanki make. For an instant she remembered when she had it done - a silver needle and no opiate, just a leather tether on which to bite down. The evoked memory sent a tingle of desire down her spine. Curling her pointed tail to caress Ihaana's ankle, she leaned forward and planted a wet kiss on the smooth, inked flesh of the aasimar's bottom, nipping slightly with her teeth until she could see redness under the fluid tapestry of tattoos.