[Exalted] Even Dragons Die
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Synecdoche17 on 13-05-2014, 03:46:44</h2>
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				Title: <strong>[Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Synecdoche17</strong> on <strong>13-05-2014, 03:46:44</strong>
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				<div align="center">(http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/4e/ac/bd/4eacbd89991b3c7c84b817e8afdf40a0.jpg)</div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">The City</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div align="center">(http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/aa/09/34/aa0934e54c43732aa812d42346369345.jpg)</div><br>The City of the Steel Lotus unfurls amid a thousand green rivers teeming with round, bobbing coracles. Vivid towers climb into the sky as if to greet the sun, wrapped in flowering vines. Birds of a hundred colors float on breezes redolent of strange and sensual flowers, filling the air with their cries. A sage could journey for a thousand years and not find a more beautiful city.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Princes of the Earth travel ten thousand miles to reach the City of the Steel Lotus, when the delights of the Imperial City begin to bore them. They arrive aboard magnificent ships shaped by ancient hands, or astride the finest stallions; the greatest arrive borne by whirling winds, or travel the streets of Heaven itself to reach their destination.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Once they have reached the City of the Steel Lotus, sailed its winding streets, tasted its sweet fruits and watched the beautiful birds fly, their steps invariably turn away, toward a slender winding path, that crawls along the banks of the Black Knot River – the path that leads to a lilac-roofed palace. This shrine to hedonism lies far removed from the crowded bustle of An-Teng's largest city. Its curving shapes rise from the middle of a river, atop a series of gentle rapids, overlooked by a dozen monoliths – the hard, sharp corpses of mountains whittled away by the rains and rivers, covered in flowering green shrouds. This is Plum Blossom House, midwife to intrigue.</div></div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">The Politics</div><div class="spoiler_body">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The wreck of the <em>Irreverent Heretic</em> still lies at the edge of the City's harbor, its broken masts jutting from the water's edge. Forty-five souls, including its captain, lie buried within its shattered bulk, torn asunder by the fire-tongues of the Imperial navy, on the orders of Shuri the Scarlet, general of the Imperial garrison and acting satrap. Perhaps the captain of the <em>Irreverent Heretic</em> dared too much in naming his ship, or perhaps he really was a pirate, but he was not the only one to suffer. A dozen more ships lie hidden and broken beyond the port, enormous coffins for their doomed crews. All ships that come in and out of the harbor submit to Imperial inspection now, and the inspectors take their pay from the ship's cargo. Imperial infantry patrols the river routes that lead to the city; rumor says incoming caravans are sometimes taxed two or even three times by different patrols. At least the infantry have taken down the corpses of those they made an example of.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Though the Tengese bow their heads and smile when Imperial soldiers, tax collectors, and tourists pass by, unrest travels up and down the City like a deep current. In time, it may even touch the Plum Blossom House.</div></div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">The Players</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div align="center">(http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/8b/fd/ee/8bfdeecf85d550a6125aebfa3c6d4167.jpg)</div><br><br>Currently a small number of Dragon-Bloods make their home here, paying the proprietor a nominal rent. Each has a reason for living within its walls, but none have realized – or are willing to realize – the true reason for their choice of home -<br><br>The House likes them.<br><br><strong>Current Cast:</strong><br>Crimson Dove, Lady of the Evening - played by Copper Lily<br>Nellens Daga, Imperial Magistrate - played by Rishon Tam<br>Kochaku Ryuken, Foreign Merchant - played by HairyHeretic<br>Assorted Extras and Antagonists - played by Synecdoche17<br></div></div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Synecdoche17</strong> on <strong>13-05-2014, 03:47:00</strong>
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				<strong>Nellens Daga</strong><br><br>“Nellens Daga. Such a surprise to find you here.”<br><br>The creaking of armor and the thump of heavy boots had preceded the speaker's low, rusty drawl. Sesus Tepin Arisu settled herself in the chair opposite the magistrate. She was a monster of a woman, the most infamous of General Shuri's subcommanders – her broad frame multiplied by the enormous, ancient, jade armor she wore. Crimson light glinted from its pitted and scarred surfaces. <br><br>“Didn't know the Treasury paid for Magistrates' little pleasure jaunts. Well while you're here, you might as well try the good stuff.”<br><br>The bottle she set onto the table bore the seal of the Prince of the High Lands. “Rice wine. The best they make in An-Teng.” She gave a feral grin. “His Excellency's patriotic <em>contribution</em> to the well-being of the Legion.”<br><br>A Tengese servant, as light on his feet as a ghost, dressed in subdued shades of blue, appeared behind Tepin Arisu's elbow with a pair of crystalline glass flutes.<br><br>“The General likes you,” the officer revealed, as the waiter opened the bottle and poured them each a glass. The rice wine was a pale golden color, with a delicate, clean fragrance. “He thinks you're here to help preserve the law. Just like him.”<br><br>Tepin Arisu picked up her glass. “There's going to be an execution next month. Whole pack of local rats caught trying to smuggle opium to market without paying the proper taxes. General would like it if you'd do us the honor of reading out the sentences at the ceremony – adds an extra layer of legitimacy, all branches of Imperial justice moving together like that.” Her eyes glinted darkly. “And it seems to me you could do with some new friends, given how your partner buggered off back to the Realm.”<br><br>–<br><strong>Kochaku Ryuken</strong><br><br>Silks rustled and conversation stilled as Kochako Ryuken entered the room. Three Tengese were already present, arrayed around the table, steam wafting from the teapot – untouched – before them, and four more stood at the far end of the room, their dress and obsequious expressions labeling them as flunkies. No – two Tengese sat at the table, one elderly, one much younger, and a woman who dressed Tengese, looked Tengese, but whose body language marked her as a breed apart from her unctuous countrymen.<br>The elderly Tengese stood with difficulty, aided by the younger. The woman uncoiled like a snake rising to strike.<br>“Your presence honors us, Prince of the Earth,” he rasped, clasping his hands and giving a bow. His peons in the back copied it in unison. He was the one who'd sent Ryuken the invitation to tea – a wealthy Tengese merchant widely known as Old Man Gold. True to his name, he'd built a staggering fortune first in the fishing business, then in jewelry.<br><br>“Our gratitude for your august company is indescribable,” Old Man Gold continued, stroking his long white beard – Tengese etiquette called for endless flattery, bowing and scraping, particularly when greeting one's betters, and centuries of Imperial colonization had drilled home the lesson of Dragon-Blooded superiority. “May we pray for the privilege of sharing this tea with you? I am proud to say the <em>Shining Light</em> has returned to harbor safely, surely as you foresaw, its holds full of jade and silver from Port Rawar. Though Imperial officers suspected its captain of lawlessness, your imprimatur upon the ship's charter convinced them of his humble obedience toward the Princes of the Earth and the law they uphold, and so the ship docked without issue.”<br>The flunkies brought forward small teak chests and opened them, each filled with jade and silver coins of varying age and provenance, the true value of which would take any counting-man a while to calculate.<br><br>“It is my humble hope we may today put ourselves again at your service, and let your wisdom guide us again in choosing how to order our affairs of commerce.”<br><br>–<br><strong>Crimson Dove</strong><br><br>The great artists of the Realm believe that one's brushwork reveals the soul, that the slash of a stroke, its width and curl, could demonstrate the painter's intelligence, kindness, temper. Ledaal Sulir's short, broad strokes, his choice of warm colors, the way he layered stroke upon stroke, giving his paintings a thickness, almost a third dimension, would give these masters entirely the wrong impression.<br><br>The sorceror, in truth, was as gelid as the Direction his Dragon ruled, an incongruous shard of ice planted in An-Teng's steamy jungle. He served as the left hand of his distant cousin, General Shuri, in whose Legion he had risen to the rank of Winglord by virtue of his occult knowledge and logistical talent, and that rank had brought with it tremendous wealth, particularly as the Legion continued its brutal exploitation of the locals. This was the fourth night in as many months that he had purchased Crimson Dove's services.<br><br>The legendary courtesan hung suspended from the ceiling, her limbs and breasts bound, silk ropes entwined prettily over her immaculate skin. Her ankles had been pulled up and over her face, each wrist tied to its opposite ankle; she was displayed in a manner both intimate and obscene.<br><br>The sorceror took a critical look at his handiwork, walking in circles around her until, grudgingly, he was satisfied. He stepped over to the windows and pulled the curtains open, sunlight streaming onto the tableau.<br><br>The wooden feet of the easel clicked against the floor, followed by the rustle of an unfurling silk sheet, and Sulir began to paint again.<br><br>“You are bored of these sessions,” Sulir stated, his tone mildly accusatory, after the sun had moved half a mark in the sky and Dove's limbs had begun to ache. “You wish I would do to you as your other clients do.” The speed of his brushstrokes did not falter as he spoke.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CopperLily</strong> on <strong>13-05-2014, 06:26:22</strong>
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				<strong>Crimson Dove</strong><br><br>The Outcaste Courtesan hung from her bindings, her generous breasts rising and falling with her rhythmic breathing, belying the strain on her limbs. She had been hanging like this for hours, taut, tense thighs framing her perfect body, her innermost areas tantalizingly exposed, vulnerable and open. She wriggled ever so slightly in her bonds as he inspected his sculpting of her form in rope and ribbon.<br><br>She smiled, her grin knowing, arching her back slightly, both pushing her chest forward and taking a little bit of the strain off her legs.<br><br>"Nonsense Sulir...variety is the spice of life, and your attentions...clarify the mind. Perhaps you mistake my impatience to see the product of our evenings together for boredom?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Synecdoche17</strong> on <strong>15-05-2014, 07:47:27</strong>
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				<strong>Crimson Dove</strong><br><br>“Impatience is not the emotion I seek to capture either,” the sorcerer replied. He put the brush down, contemplated the work, picked his brush up again, and laid another stroke on it. He studied it for a long, quiet moment, then stood and, picking up a small box, made his way over to Dove.<br><br>The brush of his fingers against her cheek might have been, from anyone else, a lover's gesture, but Sulir's eyes were bright with a cold obsession, not romance. “You look very much like her,” he murmured, tilting her face this way and that. He opened the box, revealing a series of tiny bottles and jars and two horsehair brushes. A profusion of scents – rust, tin, starch, castor oil – filled the air.<br><br>Contouring Dove's face took perhaps ten minutes; he was as painstaking with her skin as with the painting itself. The larger horsehair brush tickled as it passed over her cheeks and forehead. The lipstick was last, and the source of the rust smell – it was a particularly vivid crimson color, one generally reserved to the highest nobility of the Realm. He used the smaller brush to paint her lips, then stepped back to admire his handiwork.<br><br>For the first time tonight, a small – fleeting – smile crossed his face.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rishon Tam</strong> on <strong>16-05-2014, 05:00:32</strong>
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				"You say it as though I could be here for anything else," the young magistrate beamed as the subcommander joined him and the waiter poured, the tone of his voice full with such bold enthusiasm as to bolster the hearts of the irresolute -- and, admittedly, easily-swayed -- mortals on whose ears it fell. "The general understands: when the law isn't seen to, status and station are only the first of the things men in positions like ours stand to lose."<br><br>It was pleasant for such a careful answer. It would likely have been still more compelling if he were motivated to speak by anything more moving than shrewd politics; if he didn't quietly resent Tepin Arisu's patronizing overture. It wasn't that Daga had any particular problem with being patronized by other Dragon-Blooded. It was more the overture itself that offended, and the fact that refusal would almost certainly be a poor idea only rankled further.<br><br>Not that any part of that made it into his tone.<br><br>"That in mind, it would be an honor to take part in the ceremony." As Daga lifted his glass, the pristine white jade of his (rather less robust) armor highlighted the faintly golden hue of the rice wine where it was visible through the glass, the color as quietly complex in that clarity as the crisp, promising bouquet was to the nose.<br>He tested that scent even as he accepted the drink, his eyes still set on Tepin Arisu's. "Of course, I would like to familiarize myself with the particulars if I'm to take on so significant a role. An honor like that is owed a measure of homework, and I would hate to do it a disservice."<br><br>The wine smelled amazing. Somehow, it seemed that the execution might not pass its own test so unambiguously.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Synecdoche17</strong> on <strong>17-05-2014, 09:12:39</strong>
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				<strong>Nellens Daga</strong><br><br>“Your diligence is commendable, Magistrate.”<br>Tepin Arisu set down her glass, which was now empty.<br><br>“And the General shares your opinion – the law must be seen to. It is the instrument that keeps the rule of the Scarlet Dynasty strong until the Empress' return – or her daughter's ascension.” The politics of House Sesus made it clear which daughter the broad-shouldered offer was referring to.<br>“Until then, those of us entrusted with keeping the peace need to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, like a phalanx.” That feral grin lit up her face again; Tepin Arisu was clearly enjoying this conversation. “You do trust the Legion to cover your back, don't you, Magistrate? You ought to show the same trust in our investigative work. After all, these days there's so much treason in An-Teng to ferret out, there are surely other cases calling for your attention, aren't there? The particulars of these cases don't merit your attention.”<br><br>The waiter reappeared, as silent as ever, but Arisu's big hand closed on the neck of the bottle before he could touch it, and she gave him a look strongly reminiscent of a lioness warning a hyena off. She poured herself another drink, filling the glass to the brim, a gesture that deftly displayed arrogance and intemperance in one.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rishon Tam</strong> on <strong>17-05-2014, 21:54:49</strong>
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				<strong>Nellens Daga</strong><br><br>It didn't betray much that Daga displayed no particular measure of comfort at the thought of the Empress' daughter's ascension, given that House Nellens would find itself a touch vulnerable with <em>anyone</em> on the Scarlet Throne save for the woman who'd named it. If he favored anyone to replace her, it stood to reason he would likely "favor" that candidate only in the weakest of senses: the least terrible of uniformly miserable options.<br>It wasn't true, but it stood to reason.<br><br>"To cover my back, certainly. As should every law-abiding citizen of the Realm, to say nothing of those that enforce those laws, but my trust does not relieve my responsibility." He emptied what remained in his glass and set it back down on the table, offering a smile that belied the struggle to draw lines without offering a meaningful refusal. "I certainly don't expect I'd need more than a chance to review the details -- you're not mistaken that my attention is taxed as it is, and I'd hardly wish to make more work for myself than that -- but investigations are a magisterial concern, however well they may have been conducted, be it by Legion or Scale. If I'm to lend my voice and so implicitly involve the Magistracy, my duty demands at least that much of me."<br><br>He let his eyes stray briefly over the room as he spoke, taking in the House and consequently allowing a hint that there might be matters he'd prefer to give his attentions to even beyond whatever other investigations might demand them. There was a line between men whose diligence sprung from a sense of responsibility to their work and those whose diligence was a consequence of a more consuming marriage to their labor.<br>As his gaze settled onto a particularly fetching young woman across the room for a moment longer than normal for a cursory scan, it reinforced the message offered by the very fact that it was in a brothel that she'd found him: Nellens Daga was likely the former.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CopperLily</strong> on <strong>18-05-2014, 01:19:02</strong>
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				"Then I shall seek to curtail that emotion as well." She looked at him through the strained frame of her limbs as he walked toward her, closing her eyes as he felt his fingers on her cheek. While many might lament the coldness there, Dove didn't mind - she was familiar with a third form that gesture could take, a man regarding something beautiful in the moment before he does his level best to shatter it. She would take cold obsession any day.<br><br>She kept her reserve as he shaded and contoured her face, parting her lips ever so slightly for the brush, silently admiring the color.<br><br>"May I ask whose essence it is you hope to capture with your brush? And was she ever so blessed as to experience your skill with either the brush or rope?"<br><br>Truth be told, while her limbs ached, the sorcerer's skill did not escape her, and she appreciated it for the precision and aesthetics, if nothing else.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Synecdoche17</strong> on <strong>19-05-2014, 07:48:33</strong>
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				<strong>Nellens Daga</strong><br><br>Tepin Arisu's glance followed the magistrate's; the Tengese woman in their crosshairs stiffened. <em>Those Who Serve the Radiance</em> – that was the Tengese title for those who dealt personally with their Dragon-Blooded overlords, though in truth, at least in recent years, this service had become a punishment dealt to the outcast of Tengese society, as well as those of shameful birth, rather than the honored station their title implied they had once been. The beautiful courtesan – and if she served here she was most definitely a courtesan – assumed a polite, impassive expression, waiting for one of them to beckon her.<br><br>“I wonder, Magistrate,” the officer said, producing a cigar from her vambrace. “Given how rarely the Dragons bless your House – how did you come to be wandering this far about from home? Shouldn't you be tied up in a bedroom, somewhere near the Imperial City, surrounded by eager, naked cousins?” She held it up; the tip ignited, as if the object had preferred self-immolation to defiance.<br><br>“Or were the cousins terribly ugly?” The smoke wreathed her face, her laughing eyes like glittering jade. The cigar was oddly – and pleasantly – scented; mere tobacco, it seemed, could not satisfy a Princess of the Earth; this was something else, some obscure specimen plucked from among the thousand thousand plants Sextes Jylis had birthed here in An-Teng. “Did you flee into Her Imperial Majesty's arms to avoid them?”<br><br><br><strong>Crimson Dove</strong><br><br>Ledaal Sulir's slight, fleeting smile grew into a full one – briefly, it must be said, and then it disappeared – but he was a perfectly handsome man when he smiled, it must be said, and it was a shame he did so rarely.<br><br>“No, she was not so – blessed – nor, I think, would my path in life had been the same if she had,” the sorceror said, cupping Dove's chin. His warm fingers trailed along her skin, then he turned away, moving back to his canvas, his paints, his satchel. His high-collared shirt – Legion standard issue – fell among them, discarded, offering Dove her first look at him half-dressed, and it seemed greatly unfair that a man blessed with the gifts of the Dragons should also be gifted with such a finely sculpted body.<br><br>“I know you are a dancer without peer,” Sulir said. “I'm told you're no less skilled with an instrument – any instrument.”<br>The soft coils of the whip seemed to gleam in the dimming light as they unfurled; Dove's insight into his character proved piercingly accurate – the obsessive who, having built up the object of his passion, now set about destroying her.<br><br>“Sadly I've heard no such thing about your acting ability.” His voice took on a soft, self-satisfied purr as he rounded back on her, expecting to see fear and shock on her face as the many tails of the whip cracking through the air. “Don't try to be brave – it'll be over quicker if you cry sooner.”
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rishon Tam</strong> on <strong>19-05-2014, 20:17:06</strong>
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				"I shouldn't think a lover would need to be ugly to be so abandoned," the answer began, Daga's lips curling back into something like a smile. For the first time in their short conversation, though, the strain leveled by her inquiry was not entirely hidden. "Where would one even hope to find arms more fine than they?"<br><br>In truth, the situation at home had been deeply enviable. The seed of young, exalted Nellens men was cherished within the house in ways experienced among outsiders only by those whose exceptional breeding bordered on the legendary, and the options that presented themselves "in service to the future of the house" were attractive enough to offer an exceptionally soothing balm to even the egos most badly bruised by condescension from the better-bred and more "respectable" Princes of the Earth found among better-pedigreed houses.<br>The fact that said options were largely mortal and almost never well-bred by Terrestrial standards did little to make them less appealing, and Daga himself was a fine example of why: his features showed his poor breeding -- too fine and delicate to reflect well on the marriage of his blood and aspect -- but they flattered him by most other measures.<br><br>Yet there he was.<br><br>"Once again, the general has the right of it: I am here to preserve the law. When the Empress returns," and he made no mention of any alternative eventuality, "she will find that Nellens has continued to serve ably and loyally in her absence. To that end, for my House and for my Empress alike, I must cleave first to my duty to the Realm."<br>His gaze had gradually found its way back to the courtesan, but he flicked his eyes away again without summoning her, giving his attention for a moment to Tepin Arisu's cigar and then to the formidable officer herself. "There will always be other bedrooms, but there is only one Empire."
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>HairyHeretic</strong> on <strong>20-05-2014, 01:00:19</strong>
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				Ryuken smiled and returned the old man's bow, his eyes taking in the entire group. <em>And just who, or what, might you be?</em> he thought, letting his gaze dwell on the old man, but keeping the woman in view from the corner of his eye. <em>Courtesan? Bodyguard? Both? Or are you something brought in specifically to tempt me, I wonder?</em> He kept his expression polite, and his thoughts from his face.<br><br>"I am always happy to share good conversation over a fine tea." he replied, after the old man's rambling had wound down. "I would not presume to instruct one who has been favoured with long life and wisdom, but a sharing of thoughts can prove rewarding in all kinds of ways. Each eye sees in it's own way, and the more eyes that look upon a task, the better understood it is."<br><br>"I have been travelling and only just returned to the city. Tell me, what news fills the streets?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Synecdoche17</strong> on <strong>20-05-2014, 08:55:03</strong>
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				<strong>Kochaku Ryuken</strong><br><br>“Oh, many things,” Old Man Gold said. “There is trouble upon the road from Gem – desert bandits, plundering in the name of some six-armed god – and so the price of jewelry rises. In the Lap, the harvest was kind, and in the Middle Lands as well; the price of rice and meat has fallen. One would expect a greater level of trade, but the new taxes have ensured the price remains the same as it was the year before. Naval commerce is slow, though, because-”<br><br>“The Legion has murdered a hundred innocents in the last month, and will murder a hundred more in the month to come,” the woman interrupted, her dark eyes fierce with passion. “Men, women, children – the tribute we pay – the tribute our families paid, for centuries – does nothing to sate the greed of this general.”<br><br>“Merchant Pearl!” the elder exclaimed, using that amalgamation of title and name that Tengese used solely for scolding lessers. “Hold your tongue! The Prince of the Earth does not care to hear his equals slandered!”<br><br>“I would hope he cares to hear the truth,” Pearl retorted. “Who would bring her ship into harbor, when a dozen like it rot beneath the docks, their crews food for sharks and worse things, because a Legion officer did not like the look of their captains? Our trade goes to Port Rawar, and points north, except for those who think they can profit by selling to the Legion's soldiers alone. Commerce is a fool's game now; our honored guest would be better off taking his jade to Paragon.”<br><br>“I beg pardon for her insolence, Your Radiance,” Old Man Gold mutters, his unruly white eyebrows drawn low over his eyes. “If it pleases you, I will have her leave immediately. An-Teng knows it owes all to the Princes of the Earth.”<br><br><br><strong>Nellens Daga</strong><br><br>“One Empire,” Tepin Arisu agreed amicably. “And one Empress – but not the same as before. When Mnemon takes the throne, Magistrate, will it be her law you enforce then? The General will rise alongside her, you can be sure of that, and House Sesus too. All that we do will gain the incontrovertible seal of Imperial approval.” Her wine glass clinked on the table, and then her hand shot across the distance between them, her jade-clad fingers trapping his chin.<br><br>Her eyes gleamed like coals, commanding attention; the room seemed to heat suddenly, as though a fire had been lit around them. Smoke filled the air, then tightened, like an invisible, omnipresent net – confining, restraining, choking – the cigar had been a ruse, the scent of burning leaves disguising the subtle signs of a Fire Aspect calling on her powers until now, until Tepin Arisu brought her supernal charisma swinging down like a hammer.<br><br>“You're a handsome one, Nellens, even <em>if</em> your blood is thinner than water. If I were Empress, you'd be sharing a stage with that Cynis harlot that dances here,” she purred. “But good looks won't save you the way good behavior could. Don't make trouble.”
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rishon Tam</strong> on <strong>20-05-2014, 13:08:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It rapidly became difficult to breathe, and not only for the smoke. A Princess of the Earth pressed her will against Daga's, and it was more than a little overwhelming. The contact she made as she grasped his chin was the worst: even offering no more than a warning, Tepin Arisu's touch felt hot enough to burn. The fullness of her influence crashed against him, and it was no small thing. Yet all that heat and pressure was a different thing for a Child of Pasiap.<br><br>The limestone grey of his eyes seemed for a moment to shift under the intense weight of her charisma, recrystallizing into marble and glittering white and yellow as the Ivory Dragon's gaze held hers, echoing distantly with the same resonance as the essence (and the stubborn resolve) of the mighty sorceress that would, had she any say in the matter, claim the Scarlet Throne of her mother.<br><strong>"I will serve my Empress."</strong><br><br>And then, without even a moment's time spent in transformation, his eyes were as normal again, though his focus did not slip in direction or in fullness. Tepin Arisu still held his chin in her hand, though now one of his own had risen to grasp her wrist as she did so, neither seeking nor allowing for the removal of her touch as he answered the demonstration she'd made by trapping his chin with one of his own: a reminder that it was the magistrates before the legions that concerned themselves with the application of locks.<br>"If that Empress changes, so be it. If another wins my service, then that may be as well. But the loyalty of any Prince of the Earth -- no matter the thickness of his blood -- is a thing to be <em>earned</em>, not coerced."<br><br>His hand released hers, then, without any effort made to liberate himself from her grasp.<br>"Still, you may trust in my good behavior. Make no mistake: under my empress or any other, it is not the business of a magistrate to make trouble. It is my business to end it."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CopperLily</strong> on <strong>20-05-2014, 18:59:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her eyes traced over him appreciatively for a few moments, before her eyes turned to the whip, and her suspicions about the purpose of the session was confirmed. He did see fear on her face - not shock, but most certainly fear. Crimson Dove knew how to take a whip - better, she suspected, than most Dragon Blooded. "Bringing the wayward Lost Egg to heel" was a popular fantasy out here on the Threshold - she had carried the wrath of Creation's most powerful both before and after her Second Breath, and was exceedingly good at it. But the ability to bear something and to enjoy the prospect of it were two very different things. She would not protest, of course. Her trade was built on moments like this. The men (and women) of the Scarlet Dynasty would reveal their preferences to each other in hushed conversations, discussing the latest Cynis extravagance, or the unfortunate death of a pretty young servant girl. And then one of them would hand him a card, with her name on it, and assure their friend that such things were possible, and suggest a vacation out to the Threshold. She was singular in that regard - most of her cohorts at Eventide had been the second daughters of lesser Patrician families - pretty things, still clean and cultured and possessing all of their teeth, but aware that their only path to advancement now lay between their thighs.<br><br>Her voice was still indulgent, but it had changed, from the appreciative admirer to...a compliant captive. "And does my lord," a subtle change of title, "wish begging as well, or simply my tears?" She dragged her eyes up from the whip, and he could see they were wide and frightened. "May I at least see the visage you have so painstakingly created, before it is twisted with pain and streaked with tears?" She nodded weakly to the mirror sitting on a low table.<br><br><em>Who is it, you wish to hurt but cannot? Whose body do you ask me to proxy?</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Synecdoche17</strong> on <strong>21-05-2014, 07:59:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Crimson Dove</strong><br><br>“You can beg, if you like, or plead, or pray.” The sorceror's voice had regained its tranquil, disaffected quality. “It's tears I want from you. But, since you've been a good girl...”<br><br>He swept the mirror off the table and held it up to her eyes, revealing a visage Dove knew almost as well as her own.<br><br>The fullness of her lips was hidden, with the richly colored lipstick only at the center of her lips and the edges of her mouth blurred with concealer, giving her mouth a stern (some might say cruel) look. Dove's eyes had been dramatized with a double line cat eye look, ancient and stylized, that gave her gaze a depth of wisdom and power the young Exalt did not have yet.<br><br>The illusion was not perfect – it could not be perfect, given the tools at hand – but it was close enough. The Scarlet Empress stared back at Dove from the mirror. This was not mere deviance; this was <em>blasphemy</em>!<br><br>The mirror settled back onto the table with a gentle clink. The sorceror's arm drew back; muscles rippled under taut skin as the tails of the whip blurred through the air, this time aimed with cruel precision.<br><br><br><strong>Nellens Daga</strong><br><br>For a long moment, Tepin Arisu sat still as a statue, as though surprised that her fire could not topple a mountain.<br>Then the corners of her eyes crinkled, and the cigar slanted away as her lips crooked into a grin. Her palm turned upward, and the balls of her fingers trailed across the magistrate's skin for a brief second before returning to the wine bottle.<br><br>“Well, well. A magistrate who isn't a frightened rabbit. What a wide world of miracles.”<br><br>With her other hand she beckoned the courtesan over; the Tengese woman glided across the distance as though pulled by invisible strings. “Pretty thing. My friend here has decided to put an end to his troubles. Do make sure he enjoys his evening.” Jade coins clattered across the tabletop. “I, on the other hand, have other duties to attend to.”<br><br>A dollop of rice wine splashed into Nellens Daga's delicate crystal flute. “To the Empress,” the officer said, raising her own.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rishon Tam</strong> on <strong>21-05-2014, 21:05:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"To the Empress," he agreed, lifting his glass back from the table, his attention never leaving Tepin Arisu to find the courtesan or follow the jade deposited on the table. Then, "And to House Sesus, the general, and Lady Mnemon. To those who have earned our loyalty rather than the hollow, cheap obligations purchased through wealth," with a passing gesture of his free hand to the coins, "or intimidation."<br><br><em>My friend here has decided to put an end to his troubles.</em><br>That boded poorly. It also left awfully little reason for him not to go for broke before she could finish excusing herself.<br><br>Once he'd drained his glass again and set it back on the table, the hand that had attended the flute fell firmly over the jade obols meant for the courtesan, delaying any attempt at collection that might otherwise have been made in the quiet wake of the toast. The magistrate's attention hadn't fallen on <em>She Who Served the Radiance</em> since she'd approached the table, and that didn't change, his eyes still locked on the woman who'd called her over.<br><br>"Your other duties have waited this long. I'm confident they can wait longer." His head tilted faintly as he regarded her, his body still and somehow distantly cool despite the wine and the recent heat of the fire aspect's company. "You should join us. Or come alone. Either way, you should take this chance to be with someone you can't break." His tone was no less level for the challenge he issued, but the edges of his mouth pulled up slightly. "I'd rather have you than a servant that doesn't need the lesson."<br><br>There was no tremendous burst of essence-infused charisma accompanying the offer, but that was the way of Crimson Dragons, not Ivory. Daga's challenge was steady, with nothing in it to force her hand aside from the knowledge that the challenge, like a great stone, would endure if she turned from it, standing as an unshakable monument to what it positioned as the most meaningful implication of refusal.<br><em>You can leave,</em> the challenge said, <em>but then you and I will always know who the frightened rabbit was, between us.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CopperLily</strong> on <strong>29-05-2014, 04:46:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Crimson Dove nodded softly, as she was granted permission to beg, or plead, or pray. Perhaps it was only tears he desired from her, but his permission meant she might not need to exercise quite as much restraint as she would otherwise have had to. Suffering in silence required effort.<br><br>Her eyes widened at the face staring back at her. Beautiful, regal, stern, and holding a power none could hope to touch. She was made up as the Scarlet Empress. For a moment, her mind admired the effect, both how it looked on her and it's artistry. It made her look more regal and powerful than she was, and for the briefest instant, she imagined herself as a Dynastic noble, something far more than what she was. The effect was to be commended, given he still had to work with her bone structure and she was <em>not</em> the Empress.<br><br>But this was also no childhood rival, or spurned lover. The sorcerer wanted to see tears from the ruler of the Blessed Realm, the most powerful of the Dragonblooded.<br><br>This was going to hurt.<br><br>"Sulir, please..." her voice held genuine fear as the whip struck her for the first time, her sob chocked, muffled as she bit into her lip, her body twitching in the rope bonds, her eyes wide.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Synecdoche17</strong> on <strong>02-06-2014, 04:41:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Nellens Daga</strong><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Flame rippled down the length of Tepin Arisu's cigar, charring it from end to end, casting shadows on her face that gave her a hard, angular look.<br>“You're a cute one, Magistrate, but so is my dog, and I'd rather lie with it than a Nellens.” She flicked the cigar onto the table, its smoldering length shattering into an arc of embers across the table, reaching all the way to Nellens Daga's glass. She rose, armor creaking, her chair skidding across the marble floor, and left, the great heavy doors slamming shut behind her. The air cooled dramatically in her absence, and the smoke cleared. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Does His Radiance still desire my services?” the courtesan murmured softly after a long silence.<br><br><br><strong>Crimson Dove</strong><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The sorceror was as skilled with a whip as with a brush, and surprisingly strong; the first strike laid a line from just below and inside Dove's knee all the way to the curve of her bottom. He paused to examine it, as a sculptor might examine the clay he is beginning to shape. His thumb brushed gently over the outline of the rising welt, compressing the bruised flesh. He ran his hand down the length of it,&nbsp; his fingers tilting toward the courtesan's sex – but then he pulled away, a brief, enigmatic smile on his face, and lifted the whip again, bringing it down sharply on her opposite leg.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;No touch – however painful – followed that strike, only more cruelty, laid in zig-zags across Dove's calves, capped with a final, stinging blow across the sole of her foot.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CopperLily</strong> on <strong>03-06-2014, 02:36:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dove writhed as much as her bonds were allowed as the whip struck her, then stilled as he approached her, trembling softly as he examined his work, running his fingers over her reddened flesh, drawing another hiss of pain from the bound courtesan, and a soft, breathy sound as the teasing touch, her glance longing, pleading.<br><br>She winced at the next two strikes, though her eyes were wide, her jaw tense as she tried not to scream, knowing he would not be satisfied with merely striking her a few times, however skillfully. Her flawless breasts rose and fell rapidly with her breathing, and she braced herself as best she could.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rishon Tam</strong> on <strong>04-06-2014, 14:42:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Everything was stillness for several moments after fire aspect's departure, even the small glow from the still-burning embers of the officer's cigar seeming reluctant to diminish in the cooling air around it until Daga finally reached out to smother them one by one under the pad of his thumb. Then he curled the fingers he'd set over the jade obols, folding the coins into his grasp and extending his hand towards the courtesan to deposit them into her possession.<br><br>"No. I don't." The pyrrhic victories he'd won in his encounter didn't feel enough worth celebrating to offset the burdensome awareness of the danger he'd placed himself in, and while the insult Tepin Arisu had offered was one of the mildest he'd received over the matter of his house and breeding, the associated defeat he'd suffered in failing to buy himself more time to ply her was an important one. He sighed, sitting back in his chair and turning to regard the young woman seriously for the first time since she'd approached. "But I think I'll have you anyway."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Synecdoche17</strong> on <strong>07-06-2014, 09:03:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Crimson Dove</strong><br><br>When Sulir finally put the whip down, he was breathing heavily, his skin bright with sweat. He shucked his changshan, with its confining collar, leaving himself clad only in silk trousers that hung loosely from his hips, partly masking his adonis belt.<br><br>Sulir's hands closed on Dove's thighs, almost tenderly, almost trembling with lust, a feverish light in his eyes. His fingertips trailed down her bruised skin, tempted, tantalized -<br><br>With a visible effort, the sadistic artist tore himself away from Dove, his arousal outlined underneath silk, and sat at the easel again. The brush strokes were savage and furious, as though he sought to excise his lust for her by punching through the canvas.<br><br><br><strong>Nellens Daga</strong><br><br>The courtesan's soft hand met the magistrate's, her painted lips curving slightly.<br><br>“I am glad to hear it, Your Radiance. It is always an honor to serve,” she said, her fingers moving kindly over his skin. Those fingers slipped under his hand, and made the coins disappear with a stunning rapidity.<br><br>Her chamber boasted a minimalist style – sheets of white samite, trimmed in blue, covered a low bed; a tall, shallow teak closet loomed in one corner, opposite a low table that held only a simple white porcelain shrine, little more than a shallow bowl surmounted by a slim, feminine figure whose modesty was only preserved by her long blue hair.<br><br>“I could not help but overhear some of what the Legionnaire said,” the courtesan said later, as the white cedar door of her bedroom closed behind them. The open windows looked out on the rushing river, whose burbling sounds hid those of lovers, and sometimes of darker pastimes. Her dark eyes watched him carefully for any signs of temper. “She should not have said it. House Nellens is the most virtuous of them all - the true children of the Empress.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CopperLily</strong> on <strong>12-06-2014, 07:07:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The courtesan sagged against her bonds as Sulir put the whip down for a time, and undressed, leaving him shirtless, wearing only his pants. She felt the firm grip on her thighs, and looked at him with pleading desire, biting her lip in pain as his fingertips dug into her bruised skin. She wanted him to use her - for his desires to be redirected away from her pain. To recognize there was still pleasure to be had from her...<br><br>She sighed as he returned to his canvas, the pain of the whipping fading as the discomfort from the strain on her joints returned, silencing her mind as she began to try and wait out the looming fear.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Exalted] Even Dragons Die</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rishon Tam</strong> on <strong>13-06-2014, 22:38:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The courtesan's chamber, despite her presence there with him, offered Daga by a small margin what was the greatest measure of privacy he'd enjoyed since his arrival in An-Teng. His own rooms were shared with three mortal cousins that had been sent along with him when he'd left home, accompanying him as servants that might see to matters beneath his attention, but with the largely-unspoken additional purpose of claiming his seed for the good of the house. There had actually been four of them when they'd first departed, but the prettiest of the lot -- having reached that goal -- had set off with the retinue of Daga's senior magistrate to return home for all the pampering and praise she was due.<br><br>The consequence was that, though the courtesan was lovelier than any of the women waiting for him in his own chambers, he discovered that it was the sense of privacy she offered that appealed to him the most. The flattery of his house, meanwhile, was still appreciated for what it was, even as it rang utterly hollow. Daga answered it without words, offering a small, knowing smile as he crossed to one of the windows to gaze out at the river.<br><br>After another silent moment, he shut his eyes. The outcome of his conversation with Tepin Arisu still loomed large in his mind and so, out of all the thoughts the water might have conjured, it brought fresh the memory of how he'd once nearly drowned as a boy, years before drawing the second breath, after challenging a current too strong for him to manage, too bold and too stubborn and too stupid to recognize his limitations.<br>This time, his mother would not be on hand to rescue him.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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