<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br/><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br/><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Fei<br/><br/>The clueless woman was eternally thankful as she followed Harmony and now Fei with a bobbing bow. She was the sight of a virgin to the Sensoriums, someone whose imagination had run wild and who had not yet felt the stifling of reality or come to know the politics of the faction. It was all new and mysterious, and though she flustered some at the idea that these two women would be sharing her experiences, she found the courage on the walk to Harmony's little chamber. "There are many things I missed out on," she said in a rush, as though she were practicing her argument. "I had never traveled before coming here. I would like to see new places, many new places, to fill my memories if I must linger forever in a house of dust."<br/><br/>When they came to the small room that would give Golden Morning Radiance both the experience and the hiding place she vibrated for, she was nervous. The chamber, both sterile and intimate when shared by two strangers, echoed with the sound of her open-mouthed breathing. She knelt down in the way she had before, a practiced way that was familiar to her silk-wrapped body, and took cues from Harmony. She placed her olive-toned fingers onto the recorder stone, along with Harmony's cool golden touch like the statue of a goddess, and waited expectantly for Fei's graceful white fingers to join. Then she was to call sensations to mind. It was all up to her.<br/><br/>"A sense of accomplishment," came her first request. It came to her slowly, suffusing her humble being with immense and glowing pride that made her giggle. Her fear began to abate with that soothing sensation of having done something worthwhile, however artificial, like a syringe to relieve her anxiety. It was palpable in her body over the several minutes she savored it, but she was hungry for more.<br/>"Show me my child's smile." This one was more daring, and her fingers fret against Harmony's and Fei's as she experienced it, perhaps grasping at imagined tiny fingers, or simply uncomfortable with what she was seeing. It brought a strong physiological response, one that made her heart ache and elicited a shuddering, single sob when it ended. The smile had been illusory and the child so vague that it could not be described, but the loss was side by side with the real thing.<br/><br/>The third was never a surprise coming from a virgin to the Sensoriums, though she had her own strange way of phrasing it. "I wish to know if I should ever tire of making love," she announced. But her request had to be refined, as the library of sensation could intrinsically tell nothing about her. "To make love," she said finally. And for many, this was what the Sensoriums were <em>for. </em>A library of experiences with all manner of lover, every gender, species, personality and body type, millions of discreet orgasms or cruel teases to choose from. Her mind skimmed too quickly over the women and flirted with the first few seconds of experience with half a dozen different men, never allowing more than a touch or a kiss. She was dancing around the notion of a lesbian experience, and squirming, and thumbing the fingers on the stone with her.<br/><br/>"I want to become a Sensate," she announced with sudden confidence. "Not here, but in reality. I want to be a Sensate. I will start at the very lowest and work my way to this. Tell me, what must I do?"</td></tr></tbody></table><hr/><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/d0/Prisine.jpg)<br/><em>Prisine </em></td><td><strong>Will of the One</strong><br/><strong>Location:</strong> Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br/><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><em>P</em></span></span>early teeth sank impressions into the tough leather of a bit as a pigmented needle raked across a naked back, inserting ink between skin and bone. The ink outlined a starburst at the shoulderblade, an arch down either side, and dark, thick lines suggesting a great doorway opening to unknown horizons. The woman under the needle was stiff and clutching satin pillows to her breasts, as the smiling face of a glittery-eyed water genasi looked on. "Perfect," the genasi purred. "Welcome to the fold, sister." She placed a light kiss on the stiff upper lip of the other woman, oblivious to the pain on her face.<br/><br/>Half a dozen bodies were sprawled in the rented hall, many of them naked, glistening and bony from the wracking effects of the drugs in their system, skin too tight, musculature taut and stressed, elated. Key among them had irritated patches of pink or grey skin where they were freshly inked with the forbidden symbol of Aoskar, the defunct god who dared defy the Lady of Pain. "No longer are you merely of the Sign of One, but a part of the Will of the One." Half among them were Signers, and the rest Sensates, enlisted for a senseless and self-destructive party that had gone the whole night through. The genasi, Prisine, had reason to celebrate. And though the Signers had shown up in masks and hoods, only a few fashionable coverings still hid the identities of the shy among them. Prisine was very good at convincing an addle-cove that her way was the right way, and the right hand of the One never wore a mask.<br/><br/>As she reclined from a scratched and worn and freshly inked Signer, Prisine was looking over at one of the Sensates, an aasimar whose sheer density of tattoos put these mewling pink bodies to shame. "Would you like one?" she offered. Her head tilted to discern an image on the woman's palm, and smiled gently. "I'll bet each one of those tells a story, but none so important as the return of a god. It takes a confidence to wear that symbol. Cutters see that and respond to it." Prisine brought a nearly drained bottle of liquor to her lips, and hidden gills low on her neck flared on reflex as she finished the contents. Through the smoky and lusty haze, bodies were intertwined, covered in sweat and spit and all trembling limbs. A shimmering curtain of coppery hair and a flourish of feathery wing spilled from the pile, while the sucker mouth and worming tendrils of the rutting psurlon worked across flesh, leaving it freckled with popped blood vessels.<br/><br/>"There's going to be another get-together before the One makes his proclamations at Elloweth Theater. A social thing to bring in some new members. It's going to be here at your Festhall, and I'd like for you ladies to be there. No promises," she said with a preternatural awareness of when the tiefling, Rysse, was looking and when to quirk her brow. "But you keep an open mind and you're not afraid to really live. I like that."</td></tr></tbody></table>