<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/4/4f/Ithika_2.jpg/423px-Ithika_2.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Ithika<br/></span></span><hr/><em>Lvl 4 Drow Female UC Rogue, Contractor</em><br/><strong>HP:</strong>40<br/><strong>AC:</strong>20<br/><strong>Standard Perception:</strong>10 (12 vs traps)<br/><hr/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=332279.msg15859565#msg15859565">Quote from: PhantomPistoleer on 19-05-2021, 17:13:01</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"> "Ithika," the wizard said, testing the name out in his mouth.  Then, he replied:  "I go by Twin.  The pleasure is all <em>mine</em>."<br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>As if his intentions weren't apparent from the beginning, the drow does nothing to discourage them.  She simply clenches the spectral horse's flanks with her thighs for stability and places one hand on his thigh where it presses tight to hers, the hood of her cloak having blown back from her face and making her pupils clench against the piercing rays-- she is light-blinded, the sensation beyond uncomfortable, and she must mask that fact from Twin in order to preserve the illusion that the experience is purely pleasurable.<br/><br/>Not that it isn't pleasurable.  Not that at all... but such things, such physical pressure from a stranger, particularly one in a position of superior authority, triggers a coldness within her heart always, shunts all her receptors-- physical and emotional-- into a specific chamber of her mind.  An antechamber to a much darker and more dangerous place to which none are allowed.  Her blindness in the scorching light makes it possible to almost see a heavy, iron door in her mind that she's latched and locked a hundred times over, where blood and ichor still weeps from under the door like an infected wound.<br/><br/>Yet, in this antechamber within her mind, she conducts business.  And in this antechamber, she can creep, connive, whisper, promise... she can build egos and crush dreams and murder pride and make priests break their vows.  Sating the lusts of a wizard fall squarely into this waiting room's purpose... it can be performed mid-floor, should the need arise.<br/><br/>She spreads thin and strong fingers-- lock-pickers and knuckle-breakers-- along the span above his knee, savoring lean muscle under fine fabric.  "Twin," she says with a smile.  "She... frustrates you.  A shame."  Over the rush of the wind and the splash-hiss of the ghostly cold hooves into the water, the word 'shame' sounds like 'shem,' drawn-out and languid like a cat's stretch.  "Lovhers should not -toy- with each other."  She turns toward him, so he can see the profile of her heather-gray skin, made gray-violet in the sunlight.  "Eksept for pleasure, of course."<br/><br/><hr/><strong>GM Notice:</strong>