<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/85/Valentinebichmug.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Valentine Bich<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Beach<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Kurat, open<br/><strong>Letters:</strong>None<br/><br/>One tapered digit pushed through a ring of smoke as it approached, by then already fading away. "You know I'd love to sample something. Show me what you've got." Drugs. It clearly hadn't dawned on her before, but just then it had: Kurat was here dealing drugs. She handled what she was shown, with a half smile. It was interesting, she supposed, but it was not her scene. Only the pills elicited enough of an opinion to draw her eyes away from Kurat. "Look, I'm not really interested in this junk. You're what I want to roll up."<br/><br/>A deep breath drew her in to the hookah smoke lingering on Kurat's lips. "Smells sweet," she said, and her head tilted. Her hands boxed in the younger woman's hips, the yacht cap pinned between her lap and Kurat's. "Are you a sweet girl, Kurat? Talking to me about your blooming flower back on the beach, getting me all hot for you." A kiss was taken, for no other reason than that Valentine wished to taste her lips. "There's my sample." The hat pressed. She was a little older than Kurat, had more comfortably filled out her body. The ways the fu-gene had changed her were explicit to the touch. A woman's muscle was more elastic. Hers were firm.<em>She </em>was firm. And ever since she'd gone off her suppressants, her skin was flush, hot, driven by an insatiable itch. Animal, like a cavewoman on the prowl. The wild she'd mentioned in passing was in her eyes, bright between briar lashes.<br/><br/>"Hmm, not that sweet. It's got a dark aftertaste. Mysterious. Sexy." Her mouth began to travel down Kurat's neck. Words turned to mush, blonde hairs curled on end. "Let's make some letters."