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/>Ihaana drew on Rysse's pipe slow, let the idle ember grow and glow bright before her.  The smoke burnt as it made its way into her lungs, but she could hardly expect that a plant grown in tears would go down smooth.  She kept an eye on the genasi, Prisine...<br/><br/>Until Rysse moved to her side, and her eyes slipped down to follow that half-naked sight instead.  So many pleasant memories, but none of them caught, just passed through her mind's eye like a cool breeze.  Her dark, smoky exhalation matched, hung in the air before being whisked away by air gently blown past the aasimar's lips.  She smiled, pleased at her own handiwork, just for a moment before moment.  She grinned instead, with a pleasant, distant giggle, when she felt wet lips on her behind, the coiling tail around her ankle.  In her mind, she saw herself pulled down, tumbling onto the devilish woman.<br/><br/>This woman, Prisine, she scribbled new ink into Ihaana's skin, and while she spoke, Ihaana thought, though her thoughts didn't stick, either, and gehenna thistle just seemed to make those memory-stealing winds blow stormy.<em>That should be me</em>, she'd thought once.<em>Is it everyone?</em>Later,<em>How could she create me?  Did I forget myself?</em><br/><br/>Maybe she had.  The ink went in so quickly, and then she was somewhere else, somewhere with less smoke and more water but the haze in her mind hadn't cleared, and where was the devil she'd arrived with?