<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/c9/63/0e/c9630e0c6068e86f4b1e84b432051bc8.jpg) (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=333483.msg15884572#msg15884572)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Leovic 'Leo' Stoneharth<br/><strong>Race and Occupation:</strong>Half-Orc Apprentice Smith | Ametuer Fighter<br/><strong>Location &amp; Time:</strong>Evening | Week One, Day Two | Floor Two, Leo's room.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Puma<br/><br/><hr/><br/>It all happened too fast. If not for the alcohol making him sluggish, he might have been able to do something; put up some sort of a resistance. Maybe he would have tried to catch the Cat-turned-Elf, or rolled out of the way. Maybe he would have seen it coming before he was being straddled by a beautiful woman with lavender skin...Or maybe he wouldn't. It was hardly an undesirable place to be. Looking up at the scar-laden vixen, he was caught blinking again. Processing the information was proving a slower process than he might have liked to admit, but here he was gazing up at a woman of exceptional quality and, apparently, unknown talents. Femininity bred with savagery had given form to this woman; and she had decided to trap him in place. While he had little doubt he could outmuscle the lithe woman atop him, he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to.<br/><br/>“<strong>Either I've drunk too much, or I'm counting that as buying you a drink.</strong>” He said, trying to laugh off the oddity of his situation. There was a good chance he was dreaming, and a part of him wanted to test that. His hand rose up slowly, first brushing along the woman's arm – so as to prove to himself she wasn't some moon-conjured illusion – and then he brought his hand down to his own neck, pinching himself. With a hiss he recoiled at the pain, which had the added effect of sobering him up slightly, but also confirmed his...fear? Belief? Hope?<br/><br/>So with his hands now moving, one moved up to the woman's face, touching her chin gently while a digit roamed up to the piercing on her bottom lip. “<strong>You are...very strange.</strong>” He said, unsure what the correct thing to say was. How were you supposed respond to being mounted by a lavender Elf with plenty of skin and a wonderful form? He could think of one way, and the slight hardening of the space she straddled might give that thought away, not that he was ashamed of it. If anything, she'd started this dance. "<strong>So...You've graced my table, you've followed me into my room... What comes next?" He frowned, his hand finally stopping the brief exploratory touch of the woman's face. She was certainly mystifying, in her oddity. "Do you have a plan? A plot? A name, even?</strong>"