<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/53/Onnecamug3.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Onneca de Goni<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Unknown<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 3rd, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Night, After Dinner<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Agatha's Bedroom<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Agatha<br/><hr/><br/><em>How did you know I was there? </em>"I hoped that you were," she answered. Onneca was enjoying the largeness of the bed, that was clear; while she often laid on her own bed neatly aligned into a pillar, her slender arms cradled to her body like her madre had rest in her coffin, in this bed she was languid and stretched. It was difficult to even think of it as a bed, but more as a communal pile of softness like Shan Fan's molassas-slow opium dens. Enjoying the space and being beholden to her own pattering heart eventually resulted in her lying inverted to Aggy, an ouroboros of women in their nightclothes. Sometimes the interlocked cycle felt like Onneca retreating and Agatha pursuing, and sometimes the opposite. It had been this way for years.<br/><br/>She kept turning her eyes away from Aggy's, and smiling, and looking back. It was a dimpled smile that was always changing to reflect a joy that threatened to come giggling to the surface. But this was a quiet moment, and the quiet moments in Gomorra were so very quiet. The clinking of glasses at the saloon was far away now, the rough din of Sodom practically on another world, the hum of machines that surrounded the Consortium unheard. Sometimes there seemed to be a hum of energy at Aggy's home, but its pulse was still now. Onneca could only hear the breathing of her friend, the rustle of the mesa wind through the leaves, the lonesome vibrating call of a few lonesome California cicadas.<br/><br/>"I feel I am safe." Her slender body heaved a big sigh. "When I am with you and Elisabeth, I am safe. I can talk to you about my...unnatural feelings." The softness of the foot of the bed had yet to be broken in the way the middle was, and it crushed her bosom when she rolled onto her tummy to trace whorls on the blanket atop the trunk. But then, the firmness wasn't so different anyplace on Onneca's side, as it had never fully been broken in. This was a two-person bed enjoyed by one woman. Had Agatha had plans with it? Did she simply enjoy stretching out?<br/><br/>"When I came to California, it was not to open the bodega. I had lost someone because I was too afraid. When I came to California to find her, it was too late. She did not make it, out here. I did." Over her shoulder she peeked at Aggy. "I was very alone until I found you. I wanted to tell you that. And, that I do not want to make the same mistake two times." She flustered to enunciate more precisely what she meant. There was a line that was very difficult to cross, made of fire, and she heated intensely the closer she got. It was a mercy she was not beneath the covers. "Not because I think you will die, but...you have a big bed, and handsome male friends, and now the Collegium. I am afraid you will marry."<br/><br/>Too hot, much too hot. She had to backpedal from the topic, feel the cool air again, soak herself in cold water. "I want to join the Collegium with you, so we can work together."