Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose & ThatRPGuy)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Gypsy on 14-04-2016, 22:20:21</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>14-04-2016, 22:20:21</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg) </div>Val Northrup is a photographer who specializes in hard to capture shots in difficult terrain. Her photos have been in a number of shows, and a few of her designs, in custom frames have sold for impressive sums.&nbsp; In this digital age, she and her partner have come up with a technique that distorts her exclusive images when they are replicated.&nbsp; Whether the secret is in the paper the images are printed on, the ink, or some digital trick built into the lens is still a mystery.<br><br>She is physically fit, and proud of it, though she treats it as a simple tool of her trade.&nbsp; Some of her shots require climbing to get just the right light, the right angle, and taking risks to get the job done is something she has described as a 'high' in the circles where she is known.&nbsp; It is a small, exclusive sort of market, and given that her photos ... save for those that she's done on assignment ... do not, by design, go viral, so her name recognition value is low save in certain quarters.<br><br>She received her 'ticket' to Paradise via Federal Express, along with a first class plane ticket to get her there.&nbsp; On the ticket was three words ... 'Ready for Adventure?" and a small symbol that she recognized, and one that she had seen only once before, on a once in a lifetime photo shoot early in her career.&nbsp; Unfortunately, through some stroke of luck that she has never understood, the photo that she had taken of the symbol didn't come out ... and the ruins on the island where the shoot had been done had been lost.<br><br>Adventure, and curiosity, is an irresistible draw.&nbsp; Val loves a challenge, and she rarely backs down.&nbsp; Her personality is more serious minded, but she's not adverse to having fun, particularly when she's on the hunt for a good shot, or something that rouses her curiosity.&nbsp; <br><br>This little surprise has definitely roused her curiosity, even though she knows she ought to be suspicious about the circumstances.&nbsp; Rising to the challenge matters more than any risk, though, and she was hooked from moment one.<br><br><hr><br>Declining the offer to pop the trunk to store her backpack, Val Northrup tossed it into the back seat of the cab and then climbed in, not even bothering to wrinkle her nose at the smell, which was part body odor, part the driver's excessive use of 'Polo' and part cheap tobacco.&nbsp; In her travels, she'd been in taxis that smelled a lot worse.&nbsp; Grabbing the little card with its mysterious offer, or challenge, or invitation -- Val couldn't quite decide which -- she read off the address and settled back for the ride.<br><br>The driver was familiar with the area, and he assured her it was one of the nicer areas, closer to the suburbs than downtown.&nbsp; Other than that, he had no information to offer.&nbsp; As was her habit, she kept up the flow of chat, gathering information about the area, even if it seemed unlikely that her 'adventure' was meant for here.&nbsp; Of course, it also made the likelihood of it being the corporate publisher's office unlikely, though it just might be some art gallery interested in setting up a show of her work, maybe even some sort of targeted shoot.&nbsp; Given the area, which catered to the well-to-do progressive end of the population, that seemed certainly possible.<br><br>The building itself was nice, median scale and well kept.&nbsp; She got out and paid the driver, adding moderate tip that won her no effusive gratitude, but also no disgusted glares, and shouldered her pack, heading in.&nbsp; The sun was shining, and the weather was perfect for late spring, a far cry from the heat and humidity of Atlanta, so if nothing else, she appreciated the respite.&nbsp; What she did not like was the small directory plaque on the outside of the building that showed the suite on her card as belonging to 'Paradise Travel'. <br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/z%20-%20Story%20Props%20-%20Places/Paradise.jpg)</div>She gave a wry grimace, hefted her backpack across her shoulder to better distribute the weight, and shoved her sunglasses to the top of her head.&nbsp; <em>"It could be worse," </em>she grumbled to herself as she headed in.&nbsp; <em>"At least it's not the IRS office ... or the Linea Rosa Fertility Clinic."</em><br><br>The IRS office comprised the first two floors, and she could see a number of nervous and/or unhappy looking people sitting in chairs in a small waiting area.&nbsp; The Linea Rosa Fertility Clinic, the name of which prompted another rolling of eyes, was on the next two floors, and 'Paradise Travel' seemed to be assigned a small space on the uppermost floor, with the rest being vacant.&nbsp; Not exactly a good sign, but she was there, and it was better to have curiosity satisfied.<br><br>She took the stairs, both out of habit and because after the plane and taxi, it felt good to stretch.&nbsp; On the top floor, she eyed the steel door with its colorful sign with another frown, then shrugged and turned the handle, pushing the door inward to enter.&nbsp; Inside, there was nothing but a receptionist's desk, a rather long, surprisingly wide hallway bearing carpeting that was blood red, and a few framed travel posters showing exotic locations, including Knossos, Tekumel, and Monaco, plus a few she didn't recognize.<br><br>The desk was empty.&nbsp; There was no bell, no buzzer, nothing to announce her presence short of yelling.&nbsp; There were also no chairs, other than the one behind the desk.&nbsp; Still, the framed posters were well done, the furniture real wood with the look of class, the large, intricately decorated pot made of aged bronze and ... unless she missed her guess ... quite old and expensive, and the century plant that it held a surprising choice.&nbsp; It was enough to keep her curiosity roused, so she let her backpack slide to the floor and leaned on the edge of the desk, waiting.<br><br><div align="center">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/z%20-%20Story%20Props%20-%20Places/paradisetravel_logo.png)</div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>20-04-2016, 07:07:44</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn.arstechnica.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/11229426_1005356482839841_958922370415499553_o.jpg)</div> "This is it... this <em>has</em> to be it." Foster muttered to himself as he stared at the sign in front of the office building. His eyes scanned it's contents for the tenth time, an IRS office, a fertility clinic, and... nothing else. Yet he was certain he was in the right place. He stared at the sign with such intensity one might worry he would burn a hole clean through it. With a frustrated groan, he pulled a carefully folded piece of parchment from his pocket.<br><br>"Traveler," The letter began, "Piercing the veil was just the beginning. If you wish to learn more, your paradise awaits." It was all the letter had said, aside from the signature. "A friend." it read, as though it were supposed to mean something to him. Foster had no real friends, just acquaintances and coworkers at best. There was no one he would have shared the letter with, for example, nor was there anyone he would dare to tell about his visions.<br><br>Ever since he was young, if he focused, he could see the world differently. He had come to know what he saw as the truth, even as his parents, teachers, and even classmates berated him for daydreaming. He knew what he had seen every time it happened, and that it was far too vivid to be a dream. Something existed within the world, something he had yet to understand. It was feint, weak even, but it flowed all around him wherever he went. Over time, he'd learned to keep it to himself if he wanted to stay out of trouble, thought it hardly meant he had given up on understanding the meaning behind his 'second sight.' He'd practiced trying to control it for years, eventually getting a firm enough grasp to make it through highschool unnoticed, continuing his study into his college years, becoming nearly obsessed with literature on the occult in an effort to gain a better understanding of his sight. In the end, a job as a librarian was about all he could find with a degree as obscure as his.<br><br>The back of the letter had been little more help, just a series of symbols. Even working at a library, with all the research he could possibly need, it took him ages to properly translate the symbols. He spend nearly a day mad at himself when he had; the symbols weren't of any real language, but a series of dots and dashes that represented numbers, or so he thought. It made logical sense, the symbols translated into two sets of three digit numbers when he had cracked them. It was another week before he'd guessed their meaning; he'd looked in biblical passages, historic literature, even the library's own catalog system trying to find a match. It was only when looking for another library on the computer that he had the idea to use the numbers, with a decimal, as a GPS coordinate. Sure enough, it pointed right into a district of a city. It seemed too perfect to be a coincidence.<br><br>He'd gotten no ticket, and had to fund his own travels. It was nearly twenty hours of bus riding before he was finally at his destination, right in the heart of the city, and once again, with no idea where to go. It was only then that his plan began to feel so foolish. The grey dress shirt he wore was wrinkled from the trip,and his chestnut hair was refusing to cooperate. He had a change of clothes in the bag he'd brought, but nowhere to change. Somehow, in his head, everything would have fallen together when he made it to the coordinates in his letter. Instead, he was as lost as ever.<br><br>Slowly, with a deep breath, he tried to relax, when he managed to relax enough, the world seemed in twilight. He could see things as the really were, or as he perceived them to be, and could sense the raw power around him. He dared not call it 'magic', as that was a fairy tale, and this was very much real, at least in his mind. It was when he first tried to tap into this power that his life finally began to change. Whether it was for the better, he had yet to see. Tapping into the power around him, he had used what little there was to move a sheet of paper along the desk, with nothing more than his mind. It had only been a few inches, but the task had felt exhausting, like a major triumph, though no one would ever believe it had happened. Or so he thought.It was the next morning the letter he clutched was in his mailbox, with nothing but his name on the envelope, no address, no stamp, no return address.<br><br>This time, however, Foster was almost immediately overwhelmed. Unlike the normal twilight, the city was bright, swirling with the power he couldn't name. As far as he could tell from his first glance, the building he stood before was at the center of it all. Looking at the letter in his hand, and back at the sign again, Foster sighed. "This <em>has</em>" to be it, he muttered. He wasn't sure what he'd do if it wasn't. With a deep breath, he focused his eyes on the sign one last time, trying to calm his mind. The words on the sign slowly merged as he went cross-eyed, melting into one another until he saw, clearing than anything he'd ever read in his trance "Paradise Travel". <br><br>"Traveler..." Foster whispered to himself as the words split apart, refocusing in the Clinic's name, alongside the IRS's sign, printed in sterile, unwelcoming letters. "Paradise awaits..." He wasn't completely sure he'd seen it himself, but he stood nothing to lose by going in. Inside, the directory actually did list the name, perhaps he wasn't seeing things after all. But why hadn't it been advertised outside? Just what kind of place was it? There was only one way to be sure. Making his way to the top floor, he found the office at the end of a hallway, door already open, presumably for him.<br><br>Inside, there was just a single woman, leaning over an ancient looking desk made of stained wood. As he saw her, it occurred to him he had never planned for what he would do, if he ever made it as far as he had. Did the woman know who he was? Was she the 'friend' that sent the letter? What did she expect of him? "Hey," his voice echoes through the nearly empty room, startling even him. "I found you, but..." he wasn't really sure how to address her. Hazel eyes traced her form. She was very attractive, but did she know who he was. "I'm still not sure what I'm looking for here." He had to admit, going into the journey, he had expected it to all end with something a little different than a travel office.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>21-04-2016, 23:05:33</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg) </div><br>Patience, at least under these circumstances, was not Val's long suit.&nbsp; She could wait for hours to get the right shot, but when it came to deciding WHERE to shoot ... there were perfect shots everywhere, an no use agonizing over which haystack held the needle when the fact was that most of them did.&nbsp; Finding the needle was damned hard, but there was no shortage of haystacks.<br><br>When the door opened, her head swiveled around, expecting someone to appear with apologies for keeping her waiting, and creative ... if possibly of questionable truth ... excuses, but instead, it was a younger man, cute in a budding-scholar type way, who looked like he had more questions than answers.<br><br><em>"I didn't know I was lost," </em>she responded to his uncertain question, not meanly, but in a manner that signaled that if he needed answers, she was in rather short supply.&nbsp; <em>&nbsp; "My guess would be a travel agent?"</em>&nbsp; She shrugged a shoulder, then shrugged, allowing herself a smile.<br><br><em>"Sorry.&nbsp; The office was empty when I got here.&nbsp; I assume that I'm here for a job, but I admit that I'm sketchy on the details.&nbsp; I'm Val Northrup.&nbsp; A visual artist." </em> That sounded better than photographer, or so common wisdom was said to hold.&nbsp; Unfortunately, old style photography was a dying art, a good eye and stroke of luck and the wisdom to recognize beauty being replaced by the talent to manipulate a computer program.&nbsp; There was merit in the creation and manipulation of beauty, she supposed, but she was grateful that her special little 'talent' gave her a leg-up that she could cling to a while longer at least.<br><br><em>"And photographer."</em>&nbsp; What the hell?&nbsp; Every once in a while, it was good to acknowledge the blunt truth, without spin.<br><br>After a moment's hesitation, she held out her hand, the nails strong and short, but manicured, with no decoration other than a silver filigree ring around the fourth finger, and the tell-tale light sheen of a flesh-toned nail polish on the nails.&nbsp; She didn't press, though a lifted eyebrow indicated her curiosity.&nbsp; She was already starting to think that whatever was going on it, was going to be ... interesting.&nbsp; It had better damn well be, rather than some mundane pile of excuses about conflicting schedules an database errors.<br><br>Greetings and introductions done, the courtesies maintained, Val 'un-perched' herself from the desk and picked up her pack and slung it lightly over her shoulder with the ease of long practice. <em> "Well then, if the mountain won't come to Mohammed, Mohammed must go to the mountain.&nbsp; Maybe the place has been robbed and the receptionist is tied up in back, waiting for us to rescue her ... or him.&nbsp; Can't assume, can we?&nbsp; Let's go look, shall we?"</em><br><br>Without further ado, Val turned and strode toward the door at the hall's end.&nbsp; It was not the sort of door she would have expected at a travel agency ... perhaps, rather a jeweler's where the expensive merchandise was kept save when demanded for show, but certainly not kept out where any Tom, Dick, or Harry might palm a few thousand dollars' worth of gold and gems and waltz out.&nbsp; &nbsp; <strong><em>"Hello?"</em></strong> she called, loudly, and then reached out to bang on the door.<br><br><strong><em>"Ouch!" </em></strong>she yelped, as all that did was bruise, the metal thick enough that there seemed to be nothing on the inside to conduct or amplify the sound.&nbsp; Either it was a really good filler, or the door was solid-effing-metal, and in the latter case heavy enough to withstand a tank ... had it been fasted to a steel frame.&nbsp; As it was, she thought the wall was a bit shoddier than that, but it would still defeat her strength, and Foster's too, even if he was sturdier than he looked, if it were locked.<br><em><br>"Here.&nbsp; Hold this for a minute, will you?"</em> Without thought, she shoved her pack in Foster's direction, her hand still on the strap as she reached out and pushed down the handle, pushing on the door ...<br><br>What she really expected was for the door handle just to barely move, clicking against the mechanism of a lock.&nbsp; However, it opened smoothly, and swiftly, and her faint push was enough for the door to swing open.&nbsp; When it did ... it was as if she'd opened the door on a hurricane, except in reverse.<br><br>Wind from the hall, from the direction they had just came, slammed into Foster, sending him crashing into the lowered pack with his legs, and Val's shoulder and back with his upper half.&nbsp; That same wind seemed to grasp Val in its clutches and sweep her into the room, where the floor took a sharp tilt down in some nightmarish version of an oversize slide.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/z%20-%20Story%20Inspirations/Gabriel-supernatural-36037474-200-200.jpg)</div>She had but a scant second to grasp at the handle as it slid from her grasp, and she and Foster were falling, tumbling, sliding down a sharp descent that her rattled senses knew didn't fit the dimensions of the building, even with her and Foster, and her poor pack crashing around until she could reach out and twist them into position for a landing.<br><em><strong><br>"Hold on!" </strong></em>she advised, a second or two before they hit, bursting through a what looked rather like business end of an airport luggage conveyor belt.&nbsp; The pack landed first and skidded, then Val, on her ass, sideways, and finally Foster, who broke some of his thump on Val's legs.<br><br>There was the sound of a wry chuckle from nearby, where a man was standing, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts, his feet in sandals, his legs tanned and rather hairy from the up close and personal view as he smirked down at them.<br><br>"Sor-ry," he quipped, without any apparent sincerity.&nbsp; "I guess I should have a warning sign put on that door about watching the first step.&nbsp; But where are my manners.&nbsp; Welcome.&nbsp; Welcome Val and Foster, welcome to Paradise.&nbsp; &nbsp;Or my little version of it anyway."<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>27-04-2016, 20:57:51</strong>
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				Until the moment Val had opened the door, Foster had worn a perpetual look of disappointment. <em>Paradise Travel</em> hadn't been anything like what he had been expecting. Somehow, he'd envisioned solcing the riddle, opening the door, and walking straight into a secret society of scholars or league of like-minded individuals, congratulating him for solving their riddles, and welcoming him into the fold. He'd imagined vast libraries, full of the knowledge he sought, packed with the truth about the visions he had. Instead, the woman 'waiting' for him seemed even more lost than he; she seemed convinced she was called out there for a job, it seemed. Had she not been tested as he had? Or worse, had he been wrong, and actually managed to find his way to a normal travel agency?<br><br>Just as he was about to lose heart, Val decided she wasn't waiting for answers. "I really doubt there-" he began, as he headed down the hall after her, about to excuse himself before any more time was wasted, moments before spotting the same thing as she had; the door at the end of the hall. It was a thick, dark metal that clashed with the rest of the hall, if not the entire agency. It looked like it belonged to another building entirely. Somehow,&nbsp; the doori, combined with Val's interest in it, was enough to let his curiousity get the better of him, at least long enough to talk to an actual representative of the travel agency, though he doubted they'd find anything as exciting as her imagination had conjured.<br><br>He'd been about to take the pack she thrust in his direction when the wind caught him, pulling him forward, straight into Val. By the time he had managed to get his bearings, he was on the ground beside Val, with the man staring down at them.<br><br>"Where are.... how did we...." Foster began to ask as he looked around, pulling himself off Val to stand up. They were on a polished marble slab, a wall to a building that couldn't have possibly been the office complex they had entered behind them, with no visable door beside the flap they had tumbled out of. The slab itself remebered a very expensive patio, ending just behind their mysterious host into an open garden, filled with plants he couldn't recognize. "...What is this?" It was all he could really think to ask.<br><br>"Didn't I already answer that?" The man replied with a smirk. "C'mon, Foster, I was so sure <em>you</em> would be able to keep up!" Every word he spoke sounded like he was holding back a sudden giggle.<br><br>"Paradise..." Foster replied, with another glance around, remebering what the man had just said." He couldn't argue it fit the name. "Wait, who are you? Were you expecting us both?"<br><br>"Well of course!" the man replied. "You both showed up with perfect timing! I'll have to remeber to pat myself on the back later for that one later. You can call me Mr. Roark, your gracious host!" He wore a smirk as he spoke, amused at Foster's expression.<br><br>"That's impossible! There's no way you'd know we both would have made it here at once." Foster shook his head a little. It defied all logic. "How could you have know when I would solve the puzzle?" All of a sudden, a thought creeped into his head. He felt bad about it, but he had to know, turning to Val. "Didn't you say you thought you were here for work? They didn't test you?" He didn't mean to sound jealous, but he couldn't help but wonder why he needed to prove himself.<br><br>"Of course she was tested!" Mr. Roark replied before Val could. "Your invitations weren't the test, both of you had already passed long before you received them."<br><br>"Then why did you-"<br><br>"Let me ask you this. If you'd gotten a letter in the mail saying 'Hey, you're right! Come to Paradise, here's a free trip!', would you have taken it?"<br><br>Foster took a moment to answer, though he knew it right away. "I would have thought it was a scam, or just tossed it away as junk mail." He had to admit.<br><br>"Exactly! Your invitation was what you needed to come!"<br><br>"But... why make it so vauge then? Why a job for her? And the travel agency, or the hall? Why leave any room for doubt?" It still made little sense to Foster.<br><br>"That's the first step!" Roark replied gleefully. "Pushing past your doubt, letting your curiousity win out. You will soon learn, Foster." As he spoke, he geatured to the paradise behind him. "Here in paradise, curiousity is <em>always</em> rewarded."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>03-05-2016, 20:06:25</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg) </div><em>"Uunfph," </em>Val offered by way of greeting, and gratitude for Foster getting the rest of the way off her, though there wasn't much heat in her tone.&nbsp; Given the time the fall had taken, she was grateful to have come out on the other end with the bruise to her pride at ending up in a sprawled heap the worst of her bruises.&nbsp; She followed Foster, getting to her feet.<br><br><em>"Nice sandals."</em><br><br>Her eyes flicked to the marble, the vista beyond the open French doors, to the 'man' who had greeted them.&nbsp; Unlike Foster, she didn't evince surprise, but rather a hint of resignation and annoyance.&nbsp; Even without the impossibilities inherent in their 'journey' to this place, the tantalizing scent of the ocean on the air, and the overuse of a cologne that she would have bet hadn't been on the market since the days of Agoran perfumeries, she would have known they weren't in Kansas anymore -- metaphorically speaking.<br><br>It was in the voice.&nbsp; That was the tell.&nbsp; It was an awakened sense, a gift of her mother's bloodline.&nbsp; As a child, she'd thought the stories were just that ... colorful stories.&nbsp; Then she'd met her first 'old one', heard him speak, and she'd known.&nbsp; Improbable, impossible ... those were relative terms that part of the world clung to to reassure themselves that they were in control.<br><br>Since that moment, she'd been able to 'hear' the difference, and see it, too, in limited fashion.&nbsp; That was, after all, the well-kept secret of her unique photography, a little bleed-over from the way her mind processed things that were ... part of dreams and nightmares both.<br><br>Foster initiated perfectly understandable questions.<br><br><em>"Oh, please,"</em> she interjected when he told Foster they were in Paradise, earning herself a wrinkle of 'Mr. Roark's' face, from the eyes and mouth inward toward the nose.&nbsp; She dusted herself off, and straightened her clothing before retrieving her pack and going down on one knee to open it, and examine the equipment inside.<br><br><em>"My gear is expensive," </em>she told their 'host', letting just a trickle of irritation bleed through after Foster got the lowdown on what led Alice to the rabbithole.&nbsp; <em>"If any of it is broken, you WILL be paying to replace it."</em><br><br>"Well, if any of it is broken, my dear, you can rest assured that I will make amends."<br><br>Mr. Roark held up his hand, and snapped his fingers, and suddenly Val was looking at empty air where her pack used to be.&nbsp; &nbsp;She let out a long breath through her nose as she stood, and gave him a decidedly unfriendly look, her hands going to her hips.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/z%20-%20Story%20Inspirations/Gabriel-supernatural-36037474-200-200.jpg)</div>"No pictures!&nbsp; Sorry.&nbsp; The tabloids publish enough of that rubbish - angels, gods, demons in every cloud, blood from a statue, Elvis' face growing on mold in a refrigerator!"&nbsp; He chuckled, snorted, and shook his head before turning abruptly and walking off toward the patio, his sandals making little flopping sounds on the marble that punctuated his words.<br><em><br>"Don't sign anything, don't agree to anything, don't eat anything, don't drink anything before he tells us what he wants.&nbsp; &nbsp;And for gods' sake, assume he's being literal, whatever he says, and act like it!" </em> Val grabbed Foster's sleeve and leaned in to speak her warning, her voice a soft whisper in his ear.<br><br>"So<strong> suss-pi-shus,</strong>" Roark tutted, his laughter following her back.&nbsp; "Yes, listen to her, Foster.&nbsp; Always read the fine print -- it's excellent advice.&nbsp; Where do you think lawyers got the idea?&nbsp; We were doing it back when the only laws to be found were chiseled in stone or written upon papyrus ... or human skin.&nbsp; I'd like to think we've evolved since then, don't you?"<br><br>Having little choice, they followed him, their more business casual attire feeling decidedly out of place as they emerged.&nbsp; A bird sang in the branches of a nearby flowering bush just off the patio, flat flagstones set in a meandering path around small copses of trees and bushes, stone ringed garden areas of plants ... most were indigenous to a tropical island clime, but still others belonged to more temperate areas, mixed in with more of an eye toward aesthetics than natural accuracy.<br><br>There was a white wicker table with large, white, thronelike chairs around it, and Roark gracefully flopped into the one that would put his back to the marvelous vista, leaving Foster and Val to sit slightly across from him, if they would.&nbsp; Val drug out one of the chairs and settled herself on the edge of it, studiously ignoring the golden tray that held an assortment of luscious fruits and pastries, and another that sported finger sandwiches, and the final one that held a steaming silver teapot alongside several crystal decanters filled nearly full with an array of colorful liquids.<br><br>"Feel free to let this marvelous spread go to waste if you like, or you can accept my assurances that you can eat and drink in perfect safety.&nbsp; Now that you're here, there's only one way back, whether you play the glutton or the abstainer."<br><br>He reached out, picked up a delicate crystal flute, and poured himself a glass full of dark amber liquid from one of the decanters, lifted it to his nose for a long sniff, and then tossed it back with a shudder of pleasure before nonchalantly tossing the glass over his shoulder.&nbsp; &nbsp;Despite herself, Val flinched for the expected crash, the ringing splinter of shattered crystal, but it never came.&nbsp; The glass disappeared somewhere between the moment it left Roark's fingers and it's graceful arch toward the marble patio surface.<br><br>"Now then.&nbsp; Have you more questions, or should we just get down to brass tacks? I do love that phrase.&nbsp; Or would you rather stalk around on your own for a while, looking for the nearest embassy to get you back to ... well ... more familiar surroundings?&nbsp; I rather hope you've more discriminating tastes than that.&nbsp; After all, I did go to a considerable lot of trouble to bring you to Paradise.&nbsp; I hope you'll have the good taste ... and good sense ... to enjoy it."<br><br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>23-05-2016, 19:07:54</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn.arstechnica.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/11229426_1005356482839841_958922370415499553_o.jpg)</div>Foster was nearly lost for words; everything around him was happening so quickly. Val had caught him off guard with her response to Roark's greeting; his first impression of her was that she was adventurous, if not just a little reckless. Instead, she was warning <em>him</em> to be cautious around their host. The warning barely registered at first; Foster was still starting at her hands, where her pack had been moments ago. Part of him wanted to jump and cheer, to shout "I knew it!" at the top of his lungs, to denounce any and all who accused him of madness. Instead, he was having trouble believing what he was seeing for himself. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he snapped his eyes back to Val's face, confirming with a nod. There was more to Val than he had first realized, it seemed. She seemed very sure of how to deal with their host. Wincing at Roark's comments on lawyer and contracts, he made his way to the table, taking a seat right beside Val. He was only starting to notice the woman, now that he'd realized she was or knew more than he'd expected. It wasn't much, but in a way, he had more in common with her than anyone else he'd met.<br><br>He was actually grateful for her advice; the spread on the table was beyond merely tempting. Juice looking nuts and berries decoratively lined the platter, accented by random wedges of cheese, each cut slightly differently, giving the tray a look of perfectly organized chaos. The sandwiches on the platter beside it covered nearly every dietary spectrum; from pinwheels of grilled vegetable flatbreads to finger sized hoagies piled with roast beef, ham and turkey. He suddenly felt famished, unable to remember when exactly his last meal was. It felt like ages, even if he'd remembered having a few granola bars on the way in to the city, and it couldn't have been that long ago. He hadn't even been hungry until he sat down. Was he truly hungry, or was it just because she had warned him not to indulge? Or was it something else entirely?<br><br>"I... do have a question." Foster finally spoke after a moment of considering. He wondered if he would have accepted Roark's hospitality had Val not been there. He had questions of his own, sure, but would he have been satisfied with the answer, eager to explore, had Val not seemed to cautious after his first impression of her?<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/z%20-%20Story%20Inspirations/Gabriel-supernatural-36037474-200-200.jpg)</div>"Of course you do."Roark replied with an exaggerated sigh, his tone one of forced exasperation. "What's that phrase you all love so much? The one about free horses..." <br><br>As Roark pretended to be deep in thought, Foster continued. "You just said you went though so much trouble to get us here. Why go through the trouble? What's in it for you?" <br><br>Roark gave him a wounded look, putting one hand over his chest. "Foster, you wound me! What makes you think I'm doing this for me?"<br><br>"Why else would you?" Foster asked with a shrug. However it sounded, it wasn't meant to be an insult necessarily. One of the advantages, or so Foster told himself, of having few friends was that he had come not to believe in free favors. There had to be something the man wanted.<br><br>Roark only grinned in reply. "I think you may have trust issues, Foster. I hope that doesn't make things too difficult for your new friend here. I expect you'll be getting to know each other very well, very soon. The truth is, my garden grows all the more beautiful with people to share and enjoy it, and seeing that joy is more than enough for me. The real concern is what would happen if I left you alone out there, especially you, Foster. You were determined to know more, were you not? To teach yourself. Believe it or not, you're dangerous, Foster. The energy you used to move that paper... let's just say you don't want to know what would have happened if that little experiment..." Roark grinned at him knowingly. "...had blown up in your face. I started this garden to help people like the two of you, people that know the truth out there, that want to learn more. My paradise is a safe place to learn and grow, and all I ask if that you grow with it."<br><br>Foster digested Roark's words a moment, eyes flicking between the platter of fruit and Val. "What do you think?" he asked Val after a moment. She was the one who seemed to doubt Roark the most.<br><br>"Yes, what <em>do</em> you think?" Roark added, turning his Cheshire grin back to Val."Shall we get starte- oh! Don't look it in the mouth!" Roark sat back, triumphantly, as he awaited her response.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>27-05-2016, 19:01:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg) </div>Val's lips quirked into a smile as Foster came right back at 'Mr. Roark', immediately discounting the fact that he would operate for any other reason than self-interest.&nbsp; It was a very wise attitude to start out with, and to cling to unless it was proven otherwise -- and by 'proven', she meant something along the lines of body parts being sacrificed to prove their sincerity.&nbsp; Whatever was going on, it would be a lot less bothersome to navigate if she wasn't trying to rescue someone just clued in to the fact that magick was ... in fact ... quite real from their own naivety.<br><em><br>"He is doing it for him.&nbsp; Even if it ends up benefiting us in some way, you can bet that he's getting more out of it than we are."</em><br><br>Roark gave her a faux-despairing look of wounded innocence, but there was amusement hovering behind it.&nbsp; &nbsp;That was somewhat a relief.&nbsp; &nbsp;If he were angry and throwing fists, boulders or lightning bolts around, things would be decidedly unpleasant, if not fatal.<br><br>The spread on the table smelled ... heavenly ... even the things that really shouldn't have much of a scent.&nbsp; The bread could have come fresh out of the oven, the turkey from a Thanksgiving Day spread.&nbsp; Even the fruits had an aroma, the apples like apple pie, rich with juices, sugar and cinnamon ...<br><br>With an effort, Val forced her mind away from the growl of her stomach, giving Roark another hard look that didn't soften appreciably as he lifted an eyebrow and gave another smug smile.<br><br>When Roark said that she and the man ... Foster ... would be getting to know each other, Val turned her attention to him for a moment, wondering what was meant by that.&nbsp; &nbsp;Even while she studied him, noting almost absently that he was ... rather cute ... in an intellectual sort of way.&nbsp; It surprised her that Roark ... or whoever he really was ... was being so forthright.&nbsp; If Foster had tapped into ley-line energy to make something move, it could have gone bad -- the kind of bad that could have melted Foster's face off, or simply turned his mind into something else, whether that was mush so that he spent the rest of his days drooling happily at visions of butterflies or thought he could fly and took a nose-dive from the top of a high-rise to prove it.<br><br>She snorted, however, when Roark said 'his island' .. and her mind made the connection, resulting in her lips pressing tightly together while she shot their host another dirty look ... was safe.<br><br>But then again, safe wasn't exactly a buzz word of hers, was it.&nbsp; <em>"What do I think?&nbsp; I think that we're here anyway, so we might as well have some fun with it.&nbsp; If we're here for something more, we'll figure it out, or he'll get bored and clue us in, and if not ... Well, there's always the chance we'll find out something he doesn't want us to and have something to tweak his tail with."&nbsp; </em>She gave Roark a bland little smile, her eyes glinting as if she rather hoped for that outcome herself.<br><em><br>"Gift horse ... I believe that's the phrase you were looking for.&nbsp; Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.&nbsp; There's another one, too.&nbsp; 'Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.'&nbsp; I think we all know how that ended for the Trojans."</em><br><br>"I'm ... <strong>NOT</strong> ... Greek."&nbsp; Roark's smile had disappeared, as had the glint of amusement in his eyes. <br><br>Val thought she might well have heard the grinding of his teeth behind his jaw if she'd been a little closer, and her smile broadened.&nbsp; &nbsp;The implicit danger in the situation, baiting a wild beast through the gaps in the bar while not knowing when or where the door might next appear that would have it leaping for her throat, was a slow burn of rush, heady as a toke off a joint.<br><br>As if he had read her mind ... a thought that wiped the little smirk right off her face ... Roark suddenly grinned again and winked, good humor returning to his features as he slapped his hands together in exaggerated fashion before steepling his fingers and then flexing them.<br><br>"If that's settled ... and you're not hungry ...&nbsp; Though take some of the food with you if you like.&nbsp; It's marvelous picnic fare and it'd be a shame to let it go to waist.&nbsp; I can't eat it all, not with a beach full of beautiful, scantily clad girls around lonely for companionship, now can I?&nbsp; I'll have you shown to your bungalow.&nbsp; Explore, investigate, have fun to your hearts content!"<br><br>A woven basket, complete with red silk lining and a folded gingham table-cloth cover appeared on the table near Foster's arm while their host continued to smile.<br><br>Val glanced over at Foster again, wondering how much difficulty he was having, but from the look of it, this sort of thing was something he'd been waiting for all his life.&nbsp; Despite herself, Val smiled a little.&nbsp; She could remember the feeling.&nbsp; So long as he knew that nothing ... absolutely nothing ... would ever be quite the same again.&nbsp; But then again, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.<br><br><em>"Just so we're clear, Mr. Roark -- or whoever -- taking your food, accepting your hospitality, doesn't bind us to a goddamn thing, right?&nbsp; No service, no obligation, no first born, no coming to get your soul in X amount of time?"</em><br><br>Roark chuckled again, holding up his hands in a gesture deemed to show that he was unarmed, no aces hidden up his sleeve, and no gun hidden under the table taking a bead on their privates.&nbsp; An emerald and sapphire colored humming bird darted in from between the flowering bushes and buzzed up to Foster, its tiny wings a blur as it hovered.<br><br>"On my own soul, dear girl.&nbsp; You owe me nothing, though a 'thank you' would be nice, and, of course, basic courtesy to a host would be appreciated.&nbsp; Tin-Tin will show you to your bungalow."<br><br>Val rolled her eyes, keeping up the facade that she was less impressed than she was, and then she stood and started collecting food from the trays, reaching for the basket to load it up.&nbsp; "Grab what you want," she suggested to Foster, as she eyed the available collection of spirits.<br><br><em>"Got any Sam Adams?" </em>she demanded.&nbsp; What he hell, might as well see how far their 'host' could be pushed&nbsp; ... in little steps, of course.&nbsp; Foster had questions, most of which she wouldn't be able to answer, but she'd try.&nbsp; After all, she was at least indirectly responsible for him being there, or at least it felt that way.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>08-06-2016, 20:34:32</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Foster kept his eyes locked on Roark, as he had since the moment the man had nearly lost his composure. He had the same look on his face from before; he looked almost like he'd decided to take a mental break, staring ahead at Roark a moment longer before shaking his head and turning his attention to Val, all while offering a hurried. "Thank you very much."&nbsp; to their host for his so-called hospitality. He looked as though he'd seen a ghost while staring into space, before forcing his attention back to the table, since Val had determined epartaking of it didn't come at a direct price. He almost though about parroting Val and asking for some chinese takeout or a bowl a Mac and Cheese, or any&nbsp; other of the quick comfort dishes he'd gotten used to while studying. He still looked distracted; it was obvious he had questions. Who, or what Roark was exactly, why Val's joke had set him off the way it did, whether there was truly an entire beach of beautiful women seeking 'companionship', and other, less important things, such as where exactly they were. With the exception of the beach, perhaps, he had the impression Val might hold at least a couple of the answers, if he could find time to talk to her alone. One other thing was lodged in his mind; Roark had mentioned they'd be shown to their bungalo. Singular bungalo. Did they somehow come as a package deal? "Wait," he asked, letting his curiousity get the better of him. "Are we staying together?" He couldn't help but ask, the curiousity was too great. It had been over a decade since he'd lived with anyone else, and then it was his parents. He hated to admit it, but a woman like Val was a little intimidating to suddenly have as a roomate. She seemed rather headstrong, someone who enjoyed poking the proverbial hornet's nest, and signifigantly more outgoing than he was used to being. Plus, if he was being honest, she <em>was</em> quite attractive, sharing a small space with such a woman would be enough to make far more confident men than he nervous.<br><br>"You're welcome!" was the only answer Roark gave with a wink in Foster's direction, a coy grin on his face as he reached across the table for a cracked styrofoam cooler that couldn't have been there before. The cooler simply clashed with the entire spread across the table, it woulld have been impossible to miss. "Honestly, Val, I'm disappointed. I thought you'd have more refined taste." With that, he popped the lid off the cooler, making a display of shoving aside several cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon before grabbing a pair of bottles with the familiar Boston Lager label, setting them on the table before Val with a <em>thunk.</em><br><br>"So wait, was that to-"<br><br>"Foster,&nbsp; Foster. Relax, have some food, enjoy yourself. You'll figure out everything soon enough. You got this far without me answering everything, didn't you?" Roark was getting up to leave, heading off towards the garden. "YOu'll figure out everything soon enough, you wouldn't be here if you couldn't. Listen to your friend's advice. Everything will make sense soon, and I'll send your first..." Roark paused, whether for effect or actually needing to chose his words was Foster's best guess. "...homework assignment very soon. You'll love it, trust me, and before long you'll fit in here perfectly." With that, he gave Val a knowing look, as he continued to stride towards the garding, sandles slapping the patio pavement on the last few steps. "Tell you what, I'll give you one freebie though, Foster. Yes, it's real." With that, he gave a knowing wink and turned his back to the pair.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>10-06-2016, 21:54:44</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg) </div>There seemed to be a little tinge of almost panic in her 'adventure buddy's' tone as he asked if they'd be staying together.&nbsp; It seemed he might be more comfortable with mental adventures than physical ones, but the fact that he didn't try to hide it made her like him a little more.&nbsp; Besides, the 'he-man' variety of clueless would probably end up being useless, taking far too long protesting what was or wasn't real or simply treating it like a weekend bender.<br><br>While she could understand, and sympathize, she'd prefer to know what Roark wanted, and the fastest way to get to that was to go along ... and, if her instincts were right, he was the kind that would reveal a lot more when you caught him with a sucker punch if you let him get comfortable first.<br><em><br>"Don't worry, I won't bite ... unless you enjoy it." </em> She threw that out as she grabbed for the bottles and tuck them away. <em> "Refined ... oh, you mean the expensive shit that tastes like somebody collected rainwater in a wheat field and then poured it in a bottle and slapped a fancy label on it?&nbsp; Nah.&nbsp; I'll take robust over refined ... "</em><br><br>Her eyes cut over to Foster, who certainly looked more refined than robust himself.<br><em><br>"... almost any day."</em><br><br>She allowed a smile.<br><em><br>"Homework assignment?&nbsp; I thought you looked the part of a bored gym teacher ... I had one of those - he was supposed to be teaching 'Health', as I recall.&nbsp; Easiest class I ever took - I got high marks and only showed up about twice a month."</em><br><br>Sadly, Roark only raised his eyebrow, declining the bait.&nbsp; Val shrugged and picked up the makeshift picnic basket after Foster made his choices, and left it to him to manage the drinks.<br><em><br>"We'll love it.&nbsp; Yeah, right.&nbsp; But, hell, it's a free vacation, free food, beach, water.&nbsp; Besides, if he brought us here, then there's at least a chance it can turn out profitable in one way or another, if we don't end us squashed like mosquitoes."</em><br><br>Val's voice was cheerful, her irritation all but forgotten.&nbsp; She wasn't getting paid, but that was the beauty of making your work something you loved - at least you had fun, even if the check bounced.<br><br>She headed off across the landscape, following their impromptu guide.&nbsp; Past the greenery, she could see the beach with a good number of bathers.&nbsp; Some wore modest bathing suits, some wore scraps held on by strings, some were topless, and there were a couple that wore nothing but a suntan.&nbsp; An impromptu volleyball game with some energy was going on, and the server took a moment to wave, and motion the two of them over, but Val's steps didn't hesitate.&nbsp; If the game was still going on after they figured out as much of what was what as they could, then she might be game.<br><br>First, there was this 'homework assignment."<br><br>Their bobbing guide led them out of the manicured garden landscape to a marble sidewalk -- ostentatious much? -- that ran parallel to the white sands of the beautiful, deceptively shallow looking blue water.&nbsp; A little way down was a row of square, whitewashed stone bungalows, their lines just off kilter enough to confuse eyes expecting a cookie-cutter uniformity, each tucked back into an area of plants and smallish trees that gave some illusion of privacy, with the hint of a tiny garden area in the back that led into what appeared to be a vineyard, with a small orchard of citrus trees beyond, continuing on to a more hilly terrain.<br><br>Val took point, pushing open the door, void of any sort of locking mechanism, and entered the light, airy entryway.&nbsp; The walls were white, the decor a modernized Meditteranenan, the floors a dark patterned marble decorated with fuzzy looking rugs -- Flokati, if Val's memory served.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was even a small fireplace, and beyond she could see a door leading to ... presumably ... a bedroom, judging by the corner that she could see, and another with a small door that led, presumably, to a water closet. <br><br>Their guide had wasted no time in beating a hasty retreat, fluttering at top speed out through an open window.<br><br>Val snorted, dumped the picnic basket unceremoniously on the small table. <br><em><br>"Home sweet home.&nbsp; I take it that this is your first time dealing with .. uh ... the other side?"</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>26-06-2016, 22:56:48</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"Well..." Foster began. Just from the first word, Val would likely be able to tell it was going to be a rather lengthy explanation, far more than the 'yes or no' she might have been expecting. "I've seen it, plenty of times. But, honestly, I was beginning to think I was just going mad. You hear enough people suggest it, and it starts to feel true, know what I mean?" If it wasn't for the fact that Val seemed to comfortable with everything going on around them, he'd have never asked. As it was, she might actually be in a unique position to sympathize with him. "I thought I've seen figures in it before, but this is the first time I've ever had direct contact with someone that wasn't..." Foster paused, lost in thought a moment. He was about to say someone that wasn't human, but was that true of Roark? By all accounts, he'd looked and, mostly, acted the part. "...that was from that side." If nothing else, it seemed that being accurate mattered to him.<br><br>Foster's cheeks were still red from Val's earlier comment, though walking past the beach certainly hadn't helped. He had let his gaze linger a moment as they passed, as though he couldn't believe the beach was real. It was doubtful that he'd even know what to do with himself if he went, much unlike Roark. "Did you see it too?" he finally thought to ask, while they were still on the subject of Roark. "When he got angry, it looked like... like a green flame." Even when on the other side, there were still layers to reality. When Foster had been staring at Roark, he had apparently seen something more, if only for a brief glimpse, the moment the man nearly lost his composure.<br><br>The room was strikingly beautiful, a unique mix of a rustic charm with modern commodities. The couches that stretched out in front of the small table looked rather inviting, and Foster caught a glimpse of himself in the full mirror above the fireplace, realizing just how red his cheeks were, which certainly didn't help the situation.<br><br>While the arrangement of the bungalows defied the organized mind, the picnic basket did the opposite to Val's. When she dumped the basket over in the table, everything they had packed spilled out nearly, each piece landing upright in a perfect arrangement on the table, as though mocking her attempt. In the middle of the table, a sealed envelope landed nearly. There was no label on it, just a wax seal with a symbol Foster couldn't recognize, even for all his effort. "Was that there before?" he asked, picking it up after depositing the drinks at the end of the table, looking it over before unsealing it.<br><br>Foster read it silently a moment, before passing it to Val with a stumped look on his face. "This must be the homework assignment Roark was talking about." he said. "It's a riddle..." he shrugged at her, likely expecting something a bit deeper, or something that he could learn something from. Instead, it didn't seem to make sense to him.&nbsp; "But I'm not sure what to make of it..."<br><br><div align="center"><em>I can be done in a minute or take a whole day,<br>I can be quite mundane or done every way.<br><br>Some call me a passion, some a job, some an art,<br>But no one's done with me, no matter how much they start.<br><br>I can be done alone with some imagination;<br>but I'm best done with friends, like in your initiation.<br><br>Show me myself to past your first test,<br>and you'll be rewarded, after some rest.</em></div><br>"Magic doesn't quite make sense, and I can't think of any riddle to match it from my studies..." he confessed, still attempting to tackle the riddle analytically. "Any ideas?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>29-06-2016, 02:10:25</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg) </div><em>"Yeah, well, they don't advertise it.&nbsp; The old saying that what you can't see can't hurt you is bullshit, but it's got some truth in it, too.&nbsp; Predators have the instinct to go after the one that runs.&nbsp; You don't know you're about to be eaten, you're less likely to run, so if you're not specifically on the hunter's radar, you might escape their attention."</em><br><br>She mostly ignored Foster's discomfort.&nbsp; Even before she'd gotten clued in, she'd been around enough nude or partially nude beaches and events that it didn't much phase her.&nbsp; The aura that she could see now, even photograph, was a nakedness that left people even more bare sometimes.&nbsp; That sometimes made her feel guilty for looking at what they couldn't help but show, but it sure put into perspective looking at what people put willingly on display.<br><br>When he asked if she'd seen 'it' too, her lips quirked with the effort of suppressing a ready quip about the 'its' she'd seen on the beach, but some trace of sympathy for his predicament stopped it.&nbsp; Instead, she raised an inquisitive eyebrow, then shrugged. <em> "Looked more ... cyan ... to me, maybe with a touch of turquoise," </em>she offered unhelpfully before nodding.&nbsp; <em>"Yeah, I could see it.&nbsp; Whoever, whatever he is, he's got power, and a lot of it.&nbsp; Even more here, if this is 'his' island.&nbsp; I figure it doesn't hurt to play along until we figure out what he wants.&nbsp; That's not to say we will necessarily have any choice in whether we give it to him, but he doesn't seem like one of the bad ones.&nbsp; He might be a jackass, but did you see that getup he was wearing?&nbsp; Most of the real assholes take themselves too seriously to be caught dead a joker's outfit."</em><br><br>As she talked, she dumped the picnic basket out, frowning at the contents that somehow managed to arrange itself in neat little orderly fashion, even managing a certain amount of color coordination.&nbsp; A horrible suspicion sparked, kindled from her comment about the clothing, the fact that they were on an island, Roark's immediate offense to the Trojan horse comparison.&nbsp; Then, she shook her head in negation.&nbsp; It was a stupid idea, and no sense getting laughed at or maybe even flattering Roark by uttering it -- or scaring Foster out of his socks.<br><br>So intent was she on denying the possibility that she didn't even see the&nbsp; envelope with its bubblegum-colored wax seal.&nbsp; Hell, maybe it was bubblegum but she wasn't about to pop it into her mouth to find out.&nbsp; Abandoning the basket and its contents for a moment, she moved to stand nearer to Foster, leaning in close enough that her hair brushed at his face before giving a little crinkle of her features in apology and exiting his personal space.<br><br>When he puzzled over the contents, she waited patiently ... or reasonably so anyway, aside from the drumming of her fingers on the table before she plucked a grape from a purple-clustered tag and popped it into her mouth just to quell the feeling of being powerless.<br><br>Upon her turn to read, she did so in silence, though her features gradually settled into an amused smile tinged with impatience.&nbsp; <em>"I don't know about you, but it looks to me like one of those riddles where the answer leads to 'sex' but then gets some innocuous twist at the end.&nbsp; Maybe Roark just wants the punchline to be something like "Boy, do you need to get laid" ... though since I'm the one with the gutter-mind, he'd probably be talking to me."</em><br><br>Still, with the idea firmly implanted, Val couldn't help but give Foster another 'once-over'.&nbsp; Despite her more adventurous spirit, she usually steered clear of the testosterone-laden men for anything more than a climb buddy.&nbsp; Though if Roark was Cupid, he had been lying about not being Greek.&nbsp; Or was Cupid Roman?&nbsp; She never could keep them quite straight.<br><br>Idly, she looked at the image on the pinkish wax again.&nbsp; It looked a little bit like the figure of a man, though oddly constructed.&nbsp; It didn't look like anything Roman or Greek that she'd ever seen.<br><div align="center">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/z%20-%20Story%20Props%20-%20Things/Image1.png)</div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>21-07-2016, 08:43:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Wait, you don't think that's really the message, do you?" Foster asked, his voice almost a slight octave higher than normal, and noticeably faster. Val likely didn't even need to look up to know that he was blushing. But as it was, she was giving him a quick look over, and despite his best efforts, it was easy to see the nerves playing on his face. It wasn't, of course, that he didn't <em>want</em> to do anything of the sort with a woman like Val. To the contrary, he found her rather attractive. But being a scholar, and a reclusive one at that, seen by scholarly standards, he was far from used to situations where sex was even brought up, let alone as quickly or suddenly as it had since he'd met Val, which felt so sudden.<br><br>It was hard to imagine Val, who seemed so confident and comfortable, would even have an interest in someone like him in the first place, at least in Foster's mind. Val seemed like the kind of woman who could get just about any man she wanted. Women like her were hardly known for going for Foster's type, and if the glance at the beach was any indication of the rest of the island, she likely had plenty of other options, for all Foster knew, even Roark himself, should she please. <em>That</em> hardly seemed likely, given her disposition towards the man...<br><br>Shaking his head of the thought, mood thoroughly ruined by it in the first place, Foster picked the letter back up as he examined the seal. "That... the rest doesn't make sense though..." he was about to protest the line about friends, but when he thought about it, Val it actually made sense,<em> gutter-mind </em>or not. "Well, what about this..." he began, trying to find the right solution, whether to impress her or find a more comfortable solution, he seemed determined to solve the riddle, with whatever the 'secret' answer he still suspected may be. "<em>Show me myself to pass your first test...</em> The answer doesn't make sense.&nbsp; I mean, how would you show... sex...itself?" he handled the word like a nervous schoolboy using it in front of his girlfriend for the first time, not quite making eye contract, not quite letting them drift the wrong way either.<br><br>Looking away to try and save himself a little embarrassment, Foster paused as something caught his eye. From the couch, they had the perfect view of themselves in the portrait sized mirror above the fireplace. "Show me myself..." he nearly whispered it to himself as he said it. The expression on his face was clear, he was fairly certain he, or rather, Val, had figured out the solution. After a pause, he glanced at her, trying to find the right words, finding it nearly impossible to make the suggestion.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>26-07-2016, 02:56:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg) </div>Foster's voice, after she'd given her opinion of what their homework assignment was getting at, did a good impression of what it must have sounded like when his voice was changing, and Val's lips quirked in amusement.&nbsp; He couldn't meet her gaze, at least not head on, and he might have even been blushing a little.&nbsp; Still, despite objecting ot her answer, he seemed at least willing to consider it ... and his eyes fell on what she'd noted earlier ... and the possible blush had become a real one.<br><br>It was rather adorable.<br><br>To give him time to recover at least some of his composure, Val ran the events up until now through her head, trying to get some clue as to what Roark was up to, other than pushing her and Foster into proximity with each other.&nbsp; Whoever, whatever he was, given the command of magic involved in getting them here and this place, he could likely summon up a peep show anytime he wanted.&nbsp; So there was something behind it.&nbsp; What she didn't know was whether it would be better to go along with it, or fight it.<br><em><br>"I'm not going to bite you, Foster ... well, not right now anyway, and not unless you want me to even then.&nbsp; Sex.&nbsp; It's one of the most natural things in the world, and one of the most powerful drives.&nbsp; Why do you think religion and society wrapped it up in so much ritual, so much taboo?&nbsp; &nbsp;Maybe that's Roark's game - he wants to make us squirm, either for his entertainment or because it reveals a weakness he can exploit, maybe by offering to fix it.&nbsp; So don't be embarrassed.&nbsp; He's admitted that your intellect is part of why he brought you here.&nbsp; If it helps, think of figuring out the why as part of the puzzle."</em><br><br>Val was conscious of her own appeal.&nbsp; She had a good body, by virtue of her genes and her lifestyle, and her features were symmetrical, pleasing to the eye in good Nordic fashion, even if she preferred to think of herself as an undertall Valkyrie or something of the sort rather than an adequately buxom milkmaid.&nbsp; &nbsp;Foster's reaction, the return of his eyes, suggested that he wasn't disinterested in how she was put together.&nbsp; For her own part, now that she was given reason to study it objectively, he was her type.&nbsp; The masculine he-men that were the ones usually quite willing to accompany her on her adventures, with little true interest in her passions.&nbsp; They were competition, challenge ... but rarely lovers. <br><br>If that's what Roark had in mind, he'd chosen well ... so presumably Foster's furtive looks were indicative that he wasn't totally opposed.<br><br><em>"Look, we're on a tropical island, right?&nbsp; There's no reason that we have to work on figuring this out indoors while the sun is shining, is there?&nbsp; &nbsp;There's a beach out there, and I'd be willing to bet that there's bathing suits and suntan oil around here somewhere ... unless Mr. Roark wants to be accused of being a bad host."</em><br><br>Val raised her voice after the pause, looking around pointedly as if he were going to step out from behind the potted fern or perhaps from under the bed with his hands in the 'okay, you got me' position, but only the light, salt-scented breeze from the ocean ruffled the spread and the curtains.<br><br>Part of it was pure bravado.&nbsp; She didn't like anyone, especially someone like Roark, putting her on the defensive.&nbsp; And besides ... damn ... it had been too long since since she'd just kicked back and had a little fun.&nbsp; If it advanced Roark's agenda, what the hell.&nbsp; If it pissed him off, all the better.<br><br>She gave Foster a reassuring smile, a shrug of her shoulders, and then headed into the sleeping area and opened the small closet that she hadn't paid attention to earlier.&nbsp; As if Roark had specifically set out to prove that he was, in fact, an excellent host, there were a couple of stacks of speedos, men's briefs, and trunks in an assortment of colors and styles, and all in what she would be was Foster's size.&nbsp; On the shelf next to it, there were as many choices of suits for her, though Roark seemed to favor European and Scandinavian style, as the bikinis were all missing a top, and the one pieces were designed more to emphasize bare breasts than to provide covering.<br><br>There were other things in the closet as well, inside a small cabinet whose door was open just enough to tantalize.&nbsp; Val's eyes widened as she gave in to curiosity and opened the door wider. <em> "Well, I'd say that we don't have to worry too much about whether we came up with the right answer.&nbsp; He's left us a lot ... and I do mean 'A LOT' .... of clues."</em><br><br>Inside the cabinet was an assortment of adult toys, all in nice, unbroken, sterile wrappings, along with bottles bearing colorful labels reading 'Massage' and 'Sweet Licks' and 'Chocolate Fantasy' ... along with some that might well get Foster's eyes popping out of his head.&nbsp; "Tushy Tamer", "Orgasmix", "Yours and Mine", "Liquid Sex." <br><br><em>"Subtle as a two-by-four across the face," </em>she murmured, moving aside so Foster could see if he cared to.&nbsp; Whatever the game was, protecting his modesty was not going to do either of them any good ... and besides, it was sort of fun, seeing his reactions.<br><br>She picked up a relatively modest blue bikini bottom, and a black and silver one piece that looked like it was meant to be worn with a bikini top ... had there been one ... and held out one and then the other against her. <em> "What do you think?&nbsp; Blue ... or black?"</em><br><br>Her lips quivered in the effort to suppress a laugh, but her eyes were steady and bold, and without the slightest indication that she was joking.&nbsp; Of course, there were a couple of cover ups in the closet as well, though they'd be better referred to as 'peek-a-boos'.<br><br>Roark's sense of humor was rather juvenile, but it was arguably better than being humorless.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>26-07-2016, 08:52:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Val's advice was very sound. For all they knew, Roark wanted him to be as uncomfortable as possible. That wasn't to say the man hated the very idea of the situation he suddenly found himself thrust into, but it would certainly be a lie to claim he was well within his comfort zone. Unfortunately, as sound as Val's advice was, and as much as they 'why' nagged at him in the back of his mind, neither was enough of a distraction to make Foster's cheeks any less red. The idea of being with a woman as bold and frankly, attractive as Val was practically new to him, something he'd normally have reserved only for fantasies, yet there they were, and she hardly seemed opposed to the idea. He'd half expected her to slap him for even making the connection in the first place, let alone play along.<br><br>As Val got up to head to the other room, Foster followed behind, trying not to let his eyes wander too far down her form, or at least not to make it obvious that not the idea was in his head that he was ogling her curvier assets. It was a bit odd, following her to the bedroom, but she had already made her intend to look for a change of clothes and a change of scenery clear. Foster couldn't help but wonder her plan. Was she trying to ease him into the idea, give him a little more time with a trip down to the beach, or perhaps seeing how far he'd wait before trying a move himself? Perhaps she wasn't interested at all, and he'd completely misread her, and she was seeking a change in venue. For once, he was relatively sure that at least wasn't the case.<br><br>in the back of his mind, as she began to look at the closet, a though was still playing... Why go through all the trouble. It seemed like a lot of effort just to get two people to have sex. Besides, if Roark had merely wanted two people to do so, there were millions of choices better than him, people that wouldn't have thought twice about the idea, jumped at the chance, and likely would have been rolling on the floor with...<br><br>His cheeks flushed as he tried to focus. It couldn't just be about the sex. Was it them? He was sure that, even before his letter, he was close to some kind of breakthrough. Perhaps the whole thing was a way to distract him. But even that made little sense. If that was the case, then why Val? There were plenty of people that would have gone along with no question, instead, Val was inquisitive, borderline defiant to Roark. If the goal was to keep him distracted by the pleasure of the paradise and his company, Val wouldn't have been the best choice. If all Roark needed was for people to sleep together, he was a poor choice. If he wanted Foster complacent and distracted, Val was a poor choice. So then why...<br><br>A more prominent question popped into Foster's head as he followed Val, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind. "Where are the to... oh..." He gave Val a smile that was somewhere between awkward and excited as he figured out the answer from a single glance at the one piece suits. There were no tops. Similarly, his own selection of swimwear was hardly concealing. He was lucky enough that Roark had included a few sets of trunks, the speedos were nearly as intimidating as Val's sense of adventure. Even the trunks, however, were tight, seemingly designed to leave little doubt to whether he enjoyed what he'd see at the beach. As Val turned his attention towards the variety of <em>clues</em> Roark had left, Foster struggled to even find the words. With one or two of the choices, he wasn't even sure what they were used for, though others, such as the "Tushy Tamer", were all too obvious. Was Val interested in their use? Which ones? Would she know what to do with them more than he had? Before he could even process, she was offering him the choice, black or blue? The look she gave him felt as though it set his cheeks on fire.<br><br>There was something about Val, something he couldn't quite lay his finger on that he liked. Maybe it was the way she approached the topic, maybe it was her sense of humor, but regardless, he found he appreciated her approach. He couldn't help but wonder how experienced she was... certainly more than him, but that was by no means an accomplishment. The way she carried herself gave him an impression of class. If she was knowledgeable, it wasn't at the cost of dignity, and somehow, he got the impression that Val could be rather selective, that he was just lucky. <em>Very</em> lucky. Likely, the impression had to do with how carefully she'd been towards Roark, she'd already shown him she was a woman of very respectable intelligence. After a longer moment to thank than was likely necessary, his eyes darting between his choices and Val's form, he finally spoke up. "The black one." he said with a nod at it, almost embarrassed at his choice. There was something about the full body suit, what it covered, as well as what it was sure to show. "It has a certain... elegance, that I like..." As embarrassing as it was to admit, the next part was even worse. "What about for me? Since you let me pick..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>29-07-2016, 22:37:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg)</div>Foster's face was at least a first degree burn shade of red, which was cute.&nbsp; Perhaps it wasn't nice of her, but it brought out her inclination to provoke it more, just because it was cute.&nbsp; For her part, Roark had done well in his little 'matchmaking' efforts, if that's what it was.&nbsp; Some cock-sure asshole who thought he could stroll through a room like a sultan picking from his concubines would have been more likely to put Roark's medical facilities -- assuming he had them -- to the test. <br><br>Foster's blush made her wonder if it was only the situation that had him all flustered.&nbsp; Just how experienced was he?&nbsp; Was that what Roark was after, some big brother, mentor kick?&nbsp; Foster was someone he'd taken an interest in and wanted him 'introduced' to a little fun?&nbsp; Now THAT didn't seem totally out of character, and it was something she could see Roark doing, given the personality he'd demonstrated so far.&nbsp; Or it could be that she was a 'decoy', meant to convince some sweet little thing that Foster wasn't her cup of tea.<br><br>After he made his recommendation for the suit, Val gave him an assessing look that had nothing to do with how he might look in the swimsuit choices.<br><br>That was more problematic, even though she was fairly sure from the vibe she was picking up from him that IF she was being used to redirect his attention from someone, he was as clueless as she.&nbsp; That was reassuring, but all the same ... Val didn't much care for playing anybody's foil.&nbsp; <em>"Do you have a girlfriend, Foster?"</em><br><br>His response to the contrary was reassuring, and affirming of her impression.&nbsp; That being the case, neither one of them would be hurting anyone else -- and those who didn't make their feelings known and got hurt because of it weren't her lookout, if there was anyone in that category -- if they enjoyed themselves.<br><br><em>"Then the black one for you." </em> Valerie made her selection, nodding at one on the top shelf.&nbsp; It was something of a cross between briefs and a trunk, but she was familiar with the material.&nbsp; It was modest-ish enough dry, though there wouldn't be any hiding the typical reactions ... but wet ... wet, it would cling, define and support, leading to all sorts amusements, and not necessarily the kind that involved laughter.<br><br><em>"I hope you don't mind if I give you some advice ... though it's probably a lot easier for me to say than to do.&nbsp; Don't be embarrassed, either about looking or showing an interest in me or in anybody else.&nbsp; &nbsp;Nobody's forcing me, them, or you into going out there ... in next to nothing, or nothing.&nbsp; My guess is you'll see some of that, too.&nbsp; If Roark's getting a chuckle out of making you uncomfortable, then have the last laugh." </em> She gave him an arch little look, before handing him the suit, and what she oped was a reassuring smile.<br><em><br>"I'll change first."</em><br><br>There was only one place of privacy in their little bungalow, a small water closet that held a commode and a bidet.&nbsp; The shower, and a hot tub, was out in the back, and the former didn't exactly offer much privacy, but she wouldn't mention that to Foster right now, if he hadn't noticed.&nbsp; Changing in the open wouldn't have phased her, but that suit was made for a dramatic entrance, and she wouldn't miss seeing his face when she walked out.<br><br>It would be good practice, too ... for all sorts of things.<br><br>The suit fit her like Roark had had someone design it over a silicone imprint of her body.&nbsp; Val was lightly tanned, though there was a hint of a darker tan line that resulted from the sleeveless tank tops she often favored, but that should go away soon enough. She shimmied into the bottom portion of the suit, checked the fit in the mirror on the back of the door -- and then pulled up the top straps, securing them with the clasp above and below her breasts.<br><br>She had to admit, it was a sexy look, though if she played volleyball or did more than dog paddle, someone was likely to get flashed.&nbsp; It emphasized the curve and fullness of her breasts, both at the sides and in the front while leaving at least some reason to get her out of the suit.&nbsp; Putting on suntan lotion ... or having Foster do it ... could be interesting.<br><br>Well, it wasn't a job, but at least Roark was making things interesting, for now.&nbsp; When the other shoe dropped, she might well revise her opinion.<br><br>Her regular clothes were folded neatly and put into the hamper tucked behind the door.&nbsp; If Roark wanted to provide the costuming, what the hell?&nbsp; &nbsp;So far, it was fun.<br><br>Without announcement so that Foster could prepare, Val exited, and made her way to the bed, sitting to remove her now incongruous ankle boots.&nbsp; In the process, she gave Foster a look, and a little half grin, but otherwise left him to his own devices, at least until he either fled or needed to be prodded, or something in between.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>30-07-2016, 08:13:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Foster had to stop himself from laughing as Val asked him if he had a girlfriend, simply because even he didn't think he'd really given her the impression of someone who had. All the same, it was nice of her to make sure, before letting things go any further than they had. He'd rarely thought about pursuing relationships; his thoughts had often been occupied elsewhere, and even if they weren't, he'd had a habit of coming off as rather eccentric at times. Val was the first person he'd ever known that would have any reason to believe his stories of what he'd experienced 'beyond the veil'. No sooner did he reply than she'd handed him a suit, some advice, and made her way into the water closet, leaving him to ponder it as she changed.<br><br>Val had to know, the advice she offered was far easier to acknowledge than to practice. <em>"Don't be embarrassed, either about looking or showing an interest in me or in anybody else."</em> In part, it was reassuring, she was openly encouraging him to show an interest in her. It was hard to imagine, but he may just be her type. It was equally likely he wasn't, and Roark knew it, but she wasn't about to give the man, or whatever he may be, the benefit of showing it. The idea of showing interest in anyone else seemed strange, however. It made sense, it wasn't as if he and Val were dating, they'd barely just met, but it was hard to imagine approaching anyone else they may run into, partially just in that of everyone there, Val was the most familiar, at least by a few hours, and at least until he got used to the whole idea, he'd want to stick with her. That, and... her ways of both attempting to encourage him, while making him all the more embarrassed... he wasn't about to admit it to Val, but he found he rather enjoyed her approach.<br><br>Looking over the suit, he was grateful for her selection, she could have easily picked something far more revealing from the selection of speedos that seemed more designed to hold things in place than conceal them. In a way, the suit she'd selected matched her, the silver lining with the sleek black fabric, it certainly gave them the appearance of friends or partners at the very least. He was all too happy with the selection; had she selected something else, he wasn't sure he'd have been able to go through with it, instead asking her to pick again. As it stood, he didn't need to worry.<br><br>Before he could even mentally prepare himself for it, Val practically burst from the door, striding to the bed in nothing bu the suit and her shoes. While the suit was certainly more conservative than the bikini bottom alone, it left very little to the imagination, and Foster couldn't help but stare, almost looking away before thinking about the advice she had just given, instead giving himself a moment to admire her every supple curve as she sat to remove her boots, blushing as she looked up from him on the bed. For a second, the thought popped into the back of his head that she was daring him to join her. Before he could ponder the though too hard, Val's gesture toward the water closet brought him back to reality. It was his turn to get dressed. Heart pounding, he nodded, wandering eyes still outlining her curves as he made his way into the room to disrobe.<br><br>Had Foster not just witnessed Val in all her glory, the trunks she had picked for him would have fit like a glove. At the moment, they felt entirely too small as he adjusted again and again to try and find some form of comfort, or at least find a position that didn't make it completely obvious how much he was anticipating 'solving the riddle' with Val. After some effort, he finally decided to pull himself against the waistband of the suit. It still showed if Val were to look, but at least it wasn't as obvious from a distant glance. He debated nearly a minute whether to leave his shirt on. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about the shape he was in. If anything, for a scholar and a librarian, he was in excellent condition. While he certainly wasn't a rock climber, his journeys around the city peering through the veil, combines with the fact that he rarely drove with everything being only a few blocks away in his home city, he was in fairly decent shape, if one overlooked the lack of tan or tightly defined abdominal muscles. Walking out without a shirt, even for a beach visit, simply felt a little embarrassing. He considered for a moment whether he wanted Val to think he was overly prudent. He wasn't sure why he cared if she thought he was or not; as someone who'd before chased the ghost of an imagine he saw in his evening wear half a city block, people's opinions hardly mattered to him normally, yet Val's did. Perhaps it was the situation they found themselves in together, perhaps it was the interest she seemed to show in him, perhaps it was something else entirely. Whatever it was, he found that he wanted to impress her. Wadding up his shirt, he tossed it into the hamper along with her clothes.<br><br>Double checking everything looked okay, and was at least partially concealed, in the mirror, Foster smiled at his reflection as he thought of something. If Roark's goal was to distract him, Val was a pretty good way to do it, if he was suddenly worrying about appearances for the first time in his life. Then again, part of Val's appeal was that she hadn't accepted the situation without question. Instead, she seemed as interested in getting to the bottom of what they were involved in as he was, even if she was going to have some fun along the way. He nodded at himself, Val was right, they may as well enjoy it, or try to, in his case, if he could get over his own nature long enough to.With a deep breath, he turned around to exit the room.<br><br>"What do you think?" Foster asked as he pushed through the door all at once, as though he was worried he'd stop halfway if he didn't rush through. He stood before her in nothing but the trunks; his shirt, shoes, and socks had all been left behind in the water closet, leaving him in a slightly strained bathing suit. The through of presenting himself to her was only making the strain he had attempted to conceal that much worse, leaving little to Val's imagination.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>01-08-2016, 04:05:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Whatever his experience, Foster was actually dealing with things quite well.&nbsp; &nbsp;Perhaps it was because he now had something tangible for what he believed to be true despite all conventional reason.&nbsp; He wasn't wasting time looking for wires or projectors or lights or slight of hand.&nbsp; He wasn't protesting that his tea had been drugged, that it was a tumor of the brain, or fever.&nbsp; He wasn't insisting that he was dreaming.&nbsp; He was just dealing with things and getting used to a new reality, and setting himself against the new challenge.<br><br>That made him very much her type -- as did the fact that, for all his blushes, he was not pretending to deny a good, healthy interest in sex.&nbsp; Her instincts told her he liked the idea of the riddle, perhaps even the idea that it was part of a game.&nbsp; She did as well, though if the attraction hadn't been there, she'd have sooner told Roark to blow it out his ass, so she could at least give him credit for not making half-assed plans.<br><br>Whether he had mad a successful one or not remained to be seen.<br><br>With her boots off and bare feet cooling upon the marble, Val moved over to the closet again and looked through the supplies.&nbsp; Other than the toys and such that would be of little use on the beach, she found some suntan lotion and tanning oil and a floppy basket containing some beach towels.&nbsp; &nbsp;They could just put their homework assignment to the test -- it wouldn't exactly be time wasted if it turned out to be Roark's idea of a joke, but it would almost be too easy, and a waste of the setup.<br><br>She turned when Foster came out of the bathroom, a little surprised that he hadn't hesitated more, and pleased.&nbsp; Her eyes traveled from the faintly anxious expression on his face down his chest and to the swimsuit.&nbsp; There she lingered for a second or two, without apology, before continuing down to bare feet and then back up again.&nbsp; A hint of a smile curved her lips upward, softening her expression a few degrees.<br><em><br>"It suits you,"</em> she agreed, the grin tugging a bit more and emphasizing that she meant the show of interest revealed by the suit as well as the suit itself.&nbsp; <em>"Roark apparently thought of everything -- including sun protectant.&nbsp; &nbsp;Hopefully there'll be some shade.&nbsp; Do you swim?" </em><br><br>The temperature was almost a little chilly in the bungalow in nothing else but the tiny suit.&nbsp; She could have put on one of the coverups, but it would only get in the way, one way or the other, so instead, she gathered up a couple of the drinks, and plopped the basket into Foster's hands.&nbsp; <em>"Here.&nbsp; If you start feeling a little too much on display, this will provide some cover ... though I don't think anyone who's going to be looking will be disappointed in what they see."</em><br><br>After a little encouragement, and a final look, they headed back out the way they had come, though instead of taking the path, ventured off down toward the beach.&nbsp; It was not super crowded, the way most tourist spots could be in such perfect weather, but they were far from isolated.&nbsp; A volleyball game was going on, and the participants called over offers to join the game.&nbsp; Others lay on towels spread in the sand, a small group were busy constructing an admirable sandcastle, others were tossing frisbees, and still others were busy in the water.&nbsp; One enterprising couple with exhibitionist tendencies were getting frisky under an umbrella near the water's edge, and there were several swimmers, including two couples whose activities were highly suspect, even if they were mostly submerged.<br><br>The level of dress was varied as well, from trunks to nothing but a smile for the men, to a very few more modest one pieces to bare of anything at all, including the body's natural covering of hair, save for what was on the head, for the ladies.&nbsp; To give Roark at least one nod, not everyone in evidence was a '10', though she'd guess that the scale didn't slip much past '7.5', and nobody was gawking, though they were being checked out as the latest arrivals.<br><br>Val spotted a couple of vacant umbrellas on the white, sandy beach; one was fairly close to the water, but in a prominent position between a group of sunbathers and the volleyball game&nbsp; The other was down farther on the beach, closer to the beach's edge and a hedge of seagrass.&nbsp; It offered a bit more privacy, as well as proximity to some natural shade.<br><br>She pointed both out. <em> "Either one of those look good, or would you rather dive right in and see what everyone else is doing here?"</em><br><br>Roark had made it rather clear, in her mind, that whatever it was they were here for, whether it be the sort of homework they'd guessed at or something more sinister, she and Foster were in it together, and more and more, she was on board with that.&nbsp; Whatever he chose, getting some tanning lotion on was good sense, and ... homework or not ... it was a good way, and an enjoyable way, of breaking the ice.&nbsp; <em>"You do me and I'll do you ... with the sunscreen, at least to start, unless you'd rather not."</em>&nbsp; The tease was deliberate, inviting him to laugh with the humor rather than drawing attention to any discomfort due to the aggressive informality of the situation.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>02-08-2016, 08:47:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I do enjoy the water..." Foster admitted as they made their way toward the beach, matching Val's stride nearly step for step. In a way, the worst was behind him. Val didn't seem to hate what she saw. In fact, she'd given him enough hints that it wasn't an uncertainty how she felt about him. That was hardly to say he knew exactly what she was thinking, but any fear that she would have hated he idea of 'solving the riddle' with him could be buried right there in the sand. As tempting as the ocean was, Val seemed to have other plans, and they weren't ones he disagreed with. Made him nervous, certainly, but to say he was against the whole thing was an outright fabrication. There was something about the whole thing, enjoying the diversion while still working toward a common goal that was... fun, in a way. Disturbingly, Foster found that fun was a concept he'd so rarely made time for, and it was becoming harder to understand why. Being social, as it tuned out, wasn't the worst thing in the world, at least when his company didn't find him crazy. His only remaining fear, which was still prominent, was that she would find his... performance somewhat lacking. To say he was inexperienced was still being rather generous. "Hey, speaking of the water..." Foster though aloud as they approached the beach. "Where do you think we are, really? I mean, we got here in an office building in the middle of a landlocked city. Is any of this real?" He paused at the question. He had to admit, it sounded silly, but discussing the world around them was helping him relax. "Wrong question, huh? It's real to us, right now. I mean, is this place part of our world, as people would traditionally identify it. If we were to find a boat and sail off in some direction, would we eventually find anythi-"<br><br>His train of thought was cut short as they hit the beach. It was immediately clear that any advice Val had offered him was cast to the wind. He glanced directly at, then quickly away from the couple under the umbrella, his cheeks flushing a deep red, even more so when he made eye contact with Val. While no one was intrusive, it was easy to notice other people had noticed them in turn, which made him a little nervous. It was hard to imagine doing anything with Val in front of a crowd, let alone the first time. It was hard to imagine being social with so many people at once, for that matter, let alone anything else. Glancing at Val, wondering what her own plans her, he was glad to have the basket she'd handed him, which he kept firmly in front of his hips.<br><br>At Val's question, he was all to quick to reply. "I'd definitely prefer the one down the beach a bit." he replied, pointing toward the seagrass, "It would be nice to have a little shade." Of course, it was easy enough to guess the real reason he'd picked the spot, but that didn't stop him from trying. For once, he was happy to lad the way as he began to stride out towards the umbrella, pausing to glance back and make sure he wasn't dashing ahead. <em>"You do me and I'll do you..."</em> Forster went bright red the moment she said it, fumbling for words just long enough for her to continue. <em>"with the sunscreen, at least to start, unless you'd rather not"</em>"On no! Well, yes I mean." Foster replied with a nervous laugh. He appreciated Val's demeanor, the way she tried to make things as comfortable for him as possible. All things considered, she was very understanding, when one thought about the situation they'd found themselves in. "Yes, I'd like to, I mean." he finished just as they reached the umbrella, casting a nice patch of shade or them to set up. Foster laid out a towel before fishing the sunscreen from the basket, then looking over Val once more. Through am embarrassed laugh, he managed to ask. "Ummm, where should I start?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>04-08-2016, 23:30:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg)</div><em>"I suppose things like that are relative.&nbsp; You've heard of ... pocket dimensions?&nbsp; That's as good an explanation as any, I suppose.&nbsp; We might be on our world, but I'd guess not.&nbsp; This is an awfully overt display, the kind of things that causes a lot of ripples that most of them don't want to deal with.&nbsp; And don't ask me who 'them' is and expect a textbook answer.&nbsp; I know a little, a very little, and the more you know, the more you get roped in ... so just take that into consideration before you ask questions.&nbsp; I'll answer what I can, but you should understand that knowing changes things, and not always in a good way."</em><br><br>Of course, there were some things he'd have to know, so they could figure out what it was that 'Roark' really wanted, and what they were going to do about it, but it just didn't feel right not to offer that much caution.<br><br><em>"Wherever we are, it looks a lot like the Med to me, for all that he seems to have a sticking point about being assumed Greek.&nbsp; The doorway was just in the office building -- a one way door, it seems, unless you've got climbing equipment.&nbsp; As to what we'd find if we went sailing - your imagination is the limit.&nbsp; We might fall off the edge of the world, or find ourselves in sailing into an ice-locked sea, or run aground at the fountain's edge in the Trevi fountain."</em><br><br>Val took the goings on on the beach in stride, and was glad to see Foster adjust fairly quickly, rather than standing frozen.&nbsp; It was always better when you didn't let them phase you, and anyway, it was nothing she hadn't seen in some combination or other, whether on real beaches, or in XXX movies or porn.&nbsp; Some of it was rather stirring, in a detached sort of way, but she always found her interest engaged more on a personal level -- if she was going to be a voyeur or exhibitionist, then the performers or the audience needed to have more meaning than a bunch of strangers going about their business.<br><br>She glanced at Foster, and his shielding basket, and grinned a little to herself as they headed toward the seagrass, but didn't rub it in.&nbsp; She would have been more worried if there were no reaction at all.<br><br>When Foster put down the towel, Val plopped down on it.&nbsp; There was plenty of room for the both of them, so long as they stayed close.&nbsp; She'd have to hand it to Roark, he was certainly thorough.&nbsp; &nbsp;When Foster brought out the sunscreen, Val squinted up at him, then adjusted a bit for the sun's angle as she thought it over.&nbsp; He was less tanned than she was, but not pasty white, so a few minutes shouldn't result in a burn.<br><br><em>"Then let's dive right in." </em> Another little half teasing grin, and she lay back on the towel, on her back, keeping her eyes open.&nbsp; <em>"Whatever Roark's after, he's making it obvious that he wants the two of us together ... or he's using reverse psychology and hoping that we'll balk and not do anything out of spite.&nbsp; I don't know which, though I have my suspicions.&nbsp; Thing is, I don't really give a rat's ass what he wants, until he stops with the games and spits it out.&nbsp; &nbsp;Either way, it's a game to him, and while I'm intrigued enough to play, I'm playing it my way, not his.&nbsp; You're a nice guy, you've obviously got brains, and you're cute and unattached.&nbsp; I'm ready for a vacation, and some fun.&nbsp; If this game leads to us putting to use all his party favors, then I'm good with that - if you are.&nbsp; So relax, and have some fun - whatever you're comfortable with.&nbsp; Start wherever you'd like, and I'll roll over if you prefer, but if you start big, you'll likely find it gets rid of the being nervous and lets the rest of you come out."<br></em><br>Despite herself, she glanced down to Foster's trunks, and gave a little, indulgent laugh before finding his eyes, silently inviting him to see that there really wasn't anything to be embarrassed about.<br><em><br>"And not just there."</em><br><br>She closed her eyes, relaxing on the towel, which was already soaking up the warmth of the sand beneath, but not too much, the shade shielding her eyes and not much else.&nbsp; The pose made the suit strain a bit in certain places, threatening to burst free, but apparently Roark had a quality supplier.&nbsp; Val knew she looked good, and found that she didn't mind, at all, Foster looking.&nbsp; He really was rather sweet about it ... and this did look to be one hell of a fun vacation ... though what Roark was really up to continued to be a concern that she hadn't forgotten.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>10-08-2016, 09:09:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn.arstechnica.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/11229426_1005356482839841_958922370415499553_o.jpg)</div>Had they been in a slightly different situation, or had Val not shown such interest, Foster was likely to have continued to attempt to analyze where they were, or who they cryptic 'they' Val had mentioned might be. Had she not been so quick to shift the subject back to the matter at hand, he likely would have asked for her to explain everything she knew without delay. When it came to information, Foster was something of a sponge; he'd absorb whatever he could, given the chance, and the opportunity to learn was <em>almost</em> too good to pass up.<br><br>As it was, however, Foster's thoughts were a bit... preoccupied. The current riddle they were working towards solving, if it could still be called such, was certainly far more enticing. He was a deep shade of red from Val's effort to bring him back to the moment- successfully. Her mention of all the toys and little bottles they left behind, and her intention to eventually see them all used, left his cheeks burning red. He wore the same expression he had earlier as he was trying to figure out the riddle, or make sense of the banquet, though this time, his head was occupied with trying to remember everything he'd seen, from the silk blindfolds and cuffs to the bottle of <em>Tushy Tamer</em>, it was a lot to take in. He wondered, briefly, if Val knew it would be first time, how badly it showed. Perhaps she wasn't one to assume.<br><br>Uncapping the sunscreen, he looked over Val again, his eyes darting all along her body as he tried to decide it he was bold enough to start anywhere but her arms. He silently wished he'd let her apply his sunscreen first; it would have been easier to figure out her boundaries based on where she'd touched him. That was, of course, assuming there were boundaries at all. <em>Start big...</em> he thought in the back of his head, her encouragement stuck in his mind. He almost whispered the words as he thought it, barely mouthing them, instead. Slowly, he reached out towards her, hand almost touching the exposed flesh of her chest as he moved to start with her shoulders instead, a last minute change in what was almost a bold plan. He worked his hand over her shoulder, around the straps of her one piece, gently getting the side of her neck as well, the pressure against her shoulder far firmer, as though he were giving a massage. When Val didn't flinch away or pull back, he slowly allowed himself be a little bolder, thinking about her words one last time as he pulled back to put another dab of lotion against his fingers, this time reaching out and beginning to massage her breasts. He started slowly, barely more than a touch, gentle working the lotion against her with just the tips of his fingers, careful not to accidentally press too hard or expose her with a sudden tug. Blushing, he back to work the lotion down between her cleavage, trying to think of something to say, finding his words failed him, instead flashing her the most nervous smile she'd likely ever seen, hoping she was enjoying herself.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>14-08-2016, 01:04:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg)</div>Whatever else he might be, Foster was no coward.&nbsp; Val had dealt with enough of them to recognize the trait, no matter how good they were at covering it up.&nbsp; To some, the 'other side' of things was the most terrifying thing they'd ever imagined.&nbsp; They'd rather believe they had a tumor pressing on nerves in their head, that they were poisoned or drugged, or had gone insane.&nbsp; In some ways, she could understand, but even if those things were true, did it do any good to fight so adamantly against it?<br><br>Foster might well get around to questioning reality at some point or another, but she'd wager that when he did, it'd be from the point of finding out the truth, not denying what he didn't want to be.<br><br>All the same, she could tell that he was using up a good bit of his courage in starting to apply the sunscreen.&nbsp; Though her eyes were partly closed against the glare of the sun, she enjoyed watching his face as he debated.&nbsp; What she found most fascinating of all was evaluating just how much of his courage, and his interest, came from the riddle and how much had anything to do with her at all.<br><br>The thought didn't offend all that much, because perhaps she wasn't all that different.&nbsp; It didn't matter what caused that spark, drew them together, only that it had been struck, and she could no more help how she responded to the challenge, and the resultant attraction than a fish could choose not to swim.<br><br>That didn't mean she couldn't have fun with it though.<br><br>Just as she was considering giving him a metaphorical little push, he reached out, then zagged at the last minute, smoothing the lotion across her shoulders, diffidently.&nbsp; His touch wasn't one that said he was within a heartbeat of yanking his hand back, but rather one that was working its way up to a bolder touch, and his face looked as if he'd spent several hours in the sun already.<br><br>He smiled at her, a forced effort that showed how on edge he was, and Val returned it, weighing her options of letting him torture himself with doubts or taking the risk of upping the ante and torturing him herself, or possibly breaking through so that he could just let whatever happened happen.<br><br><em>"You've got a nice touch," </em>she said softly, letting her eyes open a little more. <em> "Tell you what, though, why don't you put lotion on both hands?&nbsp; There's more coverage that way, and I don't want either one of us to burn."<br></em><br>While he did that, Val rose up, and undid the straps that maintained the precarious hold on her breast, and pulled them off her shoulders and then arms, baring her lightly tanned body to the waist before lying back and wriggling back into a comfortable position on the stand.&nbsp; Gravity flattened the rounded orbs a bit, but they were, she thought, amply sized, and shapely, and certainly nothing that she was embarrassed about showing.&nbsp; And if the peaks showed some indication of the fact that she was enjoying the situation, that didn't seem to bother her either.<br><em><br>"Start big, Foster.&nbsp; Maybe this wasn't our idea to start out with, but that doesn't make it a bad one.&nbsp; Relax, and just enjoy yourself.&nbsp; Consider it ... part of the research ... finding out what works and what doesn't in a controlled environment."</em><br><br>She regarded him seriously for a moment and then smiled reassuring, but with a hint of teasing challenge in it.&nbsp; If it bothered her that someone might see her, see him touching her, it didn't show ... though there didn't seem to be anyone close enough to their secluded spot to&nbsp; play voyeur, particularly with plenty of other things to watch in other parts of the beach.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>18-08-2016, 09:19:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn.arstechnica.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/11229426_1005356482839841_958922370415499553_o.jpg)</div>Somewhere in the back of Foster's mind, a similar thought had been nagging at him, playing with his sense of self consciousness; would Val have been interested if not for the riddle? Once the 'riddle' was solved, assuming it was, would she still show an interest? She'd teased him about her plans for everything they had left behind in their room, but he still wasn't sure just how serious she was. As Val leaned forward, however, the thoughts quickly took a distant back seat to current affairs.<br><br>Foster tried not to let his mouth hang open, tried not to look like an eager teenager getting his first peek, and likely failed on both counts. If Val were to ask him later about hi reaction, he'd likely not remember it. All he'd remember was that Val, in that first moment of revealing herself to him, was one of the most incredible things he'd ever beheld, and he'd seen <em>actual</em> magic.<br><br>"Start big..." he told himself again, echoing her words, trying not to smirk at his own words as he reached out, running his hands from her exposed naval up her stomach, leaving behind an oily coldness with the sunscreen, making small circular motions until the bleached white color of the sunscreen no longer stood out in contrast to Val's tanned skin.<br><br>Gently, each hand worked their way up under her breasts, gently rubbing lotion under her curves at first, then around the sides, and finally, exploring the taut flesh at her peaks, his index finger and thumb gently rolling the sunscreen against her. If nothing else, he was thorough, willing to cover every important little inch.<br><br>With his eyes focused on her, he slowly grew bolder with each moment she didn't attempt to pull back, or push him away, his hands gently kneading her soft flesh, exploring what kind of touch seemed to elicit a positive reaction. While he had little experience, he wasn't completely ignorant, likely working off some information he glimpsed in a book somewhere, or perhaps even a movie.<br><br>"how does that feel?" he asked, somewhere between an attempt at flirty talking an a genuine question. His eyes had trailed up from her chest, focusing on her face, watching for signs of pleasure or distaste. He was leaning in as he asked, letting his hands drop from her chest to her sides as he leaned further over her, his expression nervous, until he was close enough she could feel his breath. If she was watching, Val could later swear she saw him mouthing 'start big' to himself before leaning in the rest of the way in an attempt to kiss her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>23-08-2016, 00:07:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg)</div>There was something flattering in being looked at with awe, and perhaps that was something of why Val generally gravitated toward those who were less certain of their own appeal, at least when there was something more than a one night stand involved.&nbsp; Foster did look like he'd never seen a pair of breasts before, though with the internet and movies, she was sure he'd at least 'seen'.<br><br>What he might not have had is someone removing their top, brief as it was, just for him, and the excuse of sunscreen aside, that was just what Val had done.&nbsp; What's more, she enjoyed the hell out of the look on his face and the tremble in his hands, knowing that he'd just been tasked to spread the lotion anywhere and everywhere.&nbsp; If he'd mumbled some excuse and bolted, she wouldn't have been terribly surprised ... somewhat disappointed, but not surprised.<br><br>But whatever else he was, she had been right about him not being a coward. <br><br>Val lay back, holding her sunglasses in her hands but not putting them on.&nbsp; She watched Foster from beneath her eyelids, wanting to smile at the intensity of his expression as he squeezed the sunscreen on his hands and warmed it, before leaning over her and beginning to rub it into her quickly heating skin.<br><br>He had a nice touch, firm but not too grabby.&nbsp; It was the touch of a musician, perhaps a magician, deft, following the muscle beneath the skin and the lines, the textures, and then adding his own.&nbsp; He didn't make a wide, obvious circle around her breasts, either, but rather worked his way up, the first touch only briefly hesitant and then more bold as she neither flinched nor moved away.&nbsp; He became bolder still as the nipples stiffened, the aureola puckering in what he almost had to recognize as proof of her enjoyment.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"How does that feel?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>That was another sign of bravery, and Val allowed herself to smile, her back to arch as she allowed herself to lean into the touch, certain now that he had gotten over the initial bout of nerves and was ready to get back into the spirit of things.<br><em><br>"It feels good, but I think you already know that," </em>she answered, her eyes opening wider as she let the smile free.&nbsp; It was another mark in his favor as he bent down over her, his lips moving in silent encouragement to himself, and then kissed her, his lips parting and fitting against hers, more certain now but ... sweet.<br><br>And in her book, that wasn't necessarily the dirty word it had almost become.&nbsp; Val let the sunglasses slip through her fingers, and raised a languid hand up to slide from his shoulder to the nape of his neck as she returned the kiss just as languidly, letting him find his pace and certainty.&nbsp; Only when she thought it might end did she let her hand move further, beneath the tickle of his hair, to deepen the kiss, her tongue probing delicately as his lip as she encouraged him to explore.<br><br><em>"It's not all that different than solving a riddle, Foster.&nbsp; The only difference is ... with this one, you start with the answer, and have to figure out the questions.&nbsp; So here's one to start with ... do you like touching as much as looking?" </em> She asked him the question with his face still just inches apart from hers, the feel of his lips still on hers, and, she thought, hers on his.&nbsp; <br><br>It was a question that she already had a pretty good idea of the answer, but sometimes admitting things out loud made those next steps less ... steep.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>29-08-2016, 20:24:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn.arstechnica.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/11229426_1005356482839841_958922370415499553_o.jpg)</div>Foster's inhabitions, or at least his concerns, seemed to melt away the moment Val returned the kiss. As her fingers curled around the nape of his neck, he seemed to lose his balance. Instead of holding himself above her as he leaned in, he leaned into her, his chest pressed tightly against hers. She could feel his rapid hearthbeat against her body, as evident of his excitement as anything could be. His kiss was inexperienced, to say the least; his lips parting more than needed, his motion exaggerated, his eyes nearly going wide as her tongue first probed past his lips. What he may have lacked in technique, her more than made up for in passion. Following her lead, his fingers wandered up her sides, eventually lipping between locks of hair and gently pressing against the back up her head, just at the peack of her neck, making slow motions that felt almost like an amateur massage.<br><br>He was leaning against her, but still held on to a bit of his modesty; his legs were still aty the side of her hips, where they'd started when he was still applying sunscreen. From his position, it would have been easy to swing one leg over her hips, let his body rest fully against hers, and allow her to feel every bit of his arousal. Naturally, he had yet to take such a big step, at least yet. As Val pulled back, he smiled at her. It was easy to see the mischief in her eyes and on her smile. She was warm and inviting, in a way thsat made him wonder why he was so nervous with her, while still making him all the more nervous at the same time. He could only hope she would enjoy everything as much as he was sure he would.<br><br><em>"...do you like touching as much as looking?"</em> He was sure Val knew the answer already, but he told her all the same. "Yes..." he replied, his answer somewhere between a whispered and a deep, shivering breath. While his left hand stayed curled in her hair, his right, still slick from sunscreen, trailed back down her arm, searching for a hand to hold as he leaned back in, his tongue following Val's exmaple, slipping past her lips to explore. Slowly, one leg slid between Val's as he respositioned himself until he was fully over her, his hips settling against hers, both legs between hers, his body, his entire body, pressed tightly against her to the point that there was little left to imagine.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>05-09-2016, 22:59:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg)</div>There was something to be said for seizing the opportunity for new experiences.&nbsp; Even experts started out devoid of the practical, though some were fortunate enough to know the theory before application.&nbsp; In these modern times, it was practically impossible for a man or woman to reach adulthood without the theory of sex being burnt into their brains in a number of ways.<br><br>It dominated advertising and entertainment.&nbsp; It was the reward for education, talent and career choices.&nbsp; Even in those stories that were meant to highlight the triumph of other virtues, sex was inserted, as if there were no worth in life beyond that moment.<br><br>Life moved in cycles, and often from one extreme to another.&nbsp; One generation's hedonism often moved to prohibitionism with but a generation or two between them.&nbsp; &nbsp;Val could appreciate the continuity, but that did mean she could not also appreciate the benefits of being on the permissive end of the spectrum.&nbsp; Sex was neither inherently good or bad, and between two aware adults with realistic expectations and knowledge of the potential consequences, it could be one of life's greatest pleasures.<br><br>As nice as it was to imagine the hand of fate bringing them together, Roark obviously had a reason.&nbsp; Perhaps that should have been enough to put her back up, but it was part of her perversity that it only made her more receptive to the attraction.&nbsp; Playing the game by someone else's rules could be fun, so long as you kept your eye on the end game.<br><br>Though she was, in some respects, assessing Foster's skills as a player in this game, she was not doing so coldly.&nbsp; She found his intelligence and willingness to jump into the game in pursuit of his desires -- be they knowledge or experience -- quite attractive, making it all the more satisfying as he joined the kiss with hesitation gone, his body pressed to hers revealing both a return of the attraction, and a healthy enthusiasm.<br><br>Quite a healthy enthusiasm.<br><br>As the kiss broke, Val lay back on the towel, smiling faintly as she let her fingers play in Foster's hair, the base of her palm against the nape of his neck.&nbsp; Deliberately, and with a great deal of enjoyment, her leg lifted, flexed, the movement of her thigh between his one she knew he would be able to feel against the solid length of his erection.<br><br><em>"Your turn.&nbsp; Sunburn would definitely put a damper on our plans, and I'm very much looking forward to ... searching for the answer to the riddle."</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>06-09-2016, 20:21:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn.arstechnica.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/11229426_1005356482839841_958922370415499553_o.jpg)</div>Foster nearly groaned at the suggestion. While he was sure that Val would find a way to make his turn with the sunscreen just as enjoyable for him as hers had been, hopefully for them both, the idea of pulling away from her long enough to allow it almost felt like torture, especially as she rubbed her thigh against his ever growing arousal, causing him to let out a long, staggered breath at the sensation. <br><br>Val was right, of course. While he lacked practical experience, Foster was no stranger to theory. While he tended to stay focused on his studies, every once in a while his 'research' may have included the occasional video or magazine. Still, nothing he'd seen, read, or heard could have prepared him for the sensation of feeling Val's soft flesh against his hands, or the way she pressed against him. It was a feeling far more intense than anything he could of provided for himself during his alternative research.<br><br>Pressing his palms against the towel on either side of Val, Foster slowly pushed himself upward, his hips rolling against her for one last time before he pushed himself off her entirely, sitting by her side. "I suppose you have a point..." he admitted, the eagerness still hanging on his voice. "I didn't get your back yet either...." When he though about it, there were several spots he'd missed. He laughed as he said it, thinking he was terrible at the job he'd been given, at least if it was interpreted literally. Val certainly didn't seem like she had complaints, a thought that only served to boost his confidence, and his interest.<br><br>Frosted held out the tube of sunscreen to Val, his expression the same look of thoughtfulness he had earlier as he wondered where she planned to start, and how far she planned to take it. There was one thing that was nothing him slightly, however. "Hey, Val..." He told her, his tone a little nervous. "Before you do, I just wanted to say..." He paused, trying to choose his words carefully. "Even if there wasn't a, well, a riddle to solve..." Another pause, this time with a noticable flush of color in his cheeks. "I'd still want to do this with you. I mean, I probably wouldn't have thought to suggest it on my own..." He was speaking rapidly, a nervous ramble. "But I mean, if you were interested, even without the riddle, I would have been too...."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>09-09-2016, 03:55:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg)</div>The danger of sunburn was not uppermost on Val's mind, so much as at least a moderate concern that an interruption at the wrong time could sour a very enjoyable beginning.&nbsp; Her own views toward the very natural nature of sex were liberal enough that she would not have put the brakes on even in the more populated areas of the beach, if they had already had knowledge of each other and their comfort level.&nbsp; Since Foster had admitted that his experience was more theory than practice, the last thing she wanted to do was rush him into something that might ultimately spoil the experience.<br><br>That he responded to her suggestion with just the right combination of reluctance and acceptance was flattering and reassuring.&nbsp; Pushing too hard had its own dangers, and though Val was increasingly on board with the idea of intimacy with Foster, there was at least some concern over how much of it was their idea, and how much had been planted by Roark.&nbsp; While she didn't mind a little nudge in the right direction, she also didn't want to be part of some otherworldly engineer's little science project without being certain that it was what she wanted.<br><br>While Foster situated himself on the towel, Val reluctantly pulled the shoulder straps of her suit back up, tucking her breasts back under the the barely adequate fabric.&nbsp; Though she had a pretty good idea that she wouldn't be wearing it long, it made movement easier.<br><br><em>"Yeah, but you were thorough where it counted,"</em>&nbsp; Val's lips quirked as she took the sunscreen, moving to get her knees under her for added mobility.&nbsp; He said her name in a manner that suggested he had something important to say.&nbsp; She stilled, and raised her eyes, and her eyebrows to listen, instinctively opening herself up to his aura in the process<br><br>When he finished, she took a moment to study his expression, even if it wasn't necessary.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Her little 'gift' showed the rippling blue green of sincerity, the edges more than a little tinged with the red-gold of desire.&nbsp; It was quite beautiful really, and she decided then an there to see if he'd pose for her ... but later.&nbsp; Definitely later.<br><em><br>"Then that makes me a little better disposed toward Roark, even if I don't really trust him.&nbsp; Any little thing can bring people together, Foster, for a moment in time - a surprise rain shower, a missed bus, a wrong turn.&nbsp; &nbsp;Finding you here is what makes it ... fun and interesting .... not the riddle."</em><br><br>She leaned forward, letting her lips rest on the corner of his mouth for a moment, not trying to hide the blossoming smile, before she sobered and straightened, though a hint of the smile remained.<br><em><br>"And don't worry about the missed spots.&nbsp; I'm not sure we need to worry about them all that much.&nbsp; Consider it an ... icebreaker ... or an appetizer." </em><br><br><em>She nodded down toward the towel, letting her smile grow.&nbsp; "Lie down.&nbsp; On your back.&nbsp; Start big, remember?"</em><br><br>The ice, she thought, had definitely been broken.&nbsp; That meant it might be time to start working on the fire.<br><br>She squeezed a generous amount of the creamy substance into her palm, and rubbed her hands together to get a good, slick coating, her expression so angelically innocent that it could only conceal devilish intentions.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>12-09-2016, 22:04:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				For the briefest of moments, Foster paused as Val mentioned the missed spots of sunscreen might not even matter. "You're right..." He muttered, more to himself than her, eyes glancing upward at the sky. It was the perfect day, with only a few clouds in an otherwise clear sky, the sun shining bright overhead. While the warmth felt real, Van's words made him wonder, was that the real sun? They still weren't even sure where they were, if it was even part of the world. Keeping an eye on the sky, especially at night, could provide some answers.<br><br>It was only a fleeting thought at the moment, as his attention was quickly back on Val. His cheeks were still red from her response. <em>He</em> was the interesting one... not the riddle. The thought made him shiver in excitement. Val was genuinely interested in him. If she were someone he'd met conventionally, at a bar, passing on the street, attending a lecture, he'd never imagined it was possible. They seemed to be from different worlds, and Val seemed, at least to him, well out of his league.<br><br>The thought almost made him want to defy the ridfle, but he was enjoying himself far too much to do so. They could defy it all they liked later, he hoped to explore much more with her... without waiting for another paper to instruct them to. Next time, it would be their terms.<br><br>Foster had no trouble letting Val start big as well, and she certainly had a lot to start with. The fabric of his swim shorts clung to him in ways that couldn't even be described as a tent, it practically showed his exact form. Foster had little doubt it was by design. At Val's request, he took a seat on the towel before laying down, then adjusting himself enough that his view of the sun was blocked by the umbrella. He flashed Val a nervous smile at she worked the sunscreen between her hands, if she started as big as he had... his fingers curled into the towell in anticipation of what was to come. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>13-09-2016, 21:08:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg)</div>Val's own mind wasn't completely on fun and games.&nbsp; Foster's look up at the sky had prompted her own speculations, and she was fairly sure she followed his thoughts, at least enough for government work.&nbsp; He was quite right, though she hadn't been thinking exactly in those terms herself.&nbsp; There were quite a few different kinds of supernaturals that could, sort of, create a Mobius strip between worlds, between realities.&nbsp; There were some who could create their own realities, after a fashion, so that they could really be back in some well-ordered office while their minds went on a sort of cosmic field trip, a 'holo deck' that used magic instead of science.<br><br>Maybe the sun wouldn't burn them, no matter what they exposed or for how long. Maybe this wasn't really suntan lotion.&nbsp; &nbsp;Maybe when they had sex, they wouldn't really be having sex ...<br><br>That was a rather depressing thought.&nbsp; Even if they could make it real as real could be, she preferred to experience the real thing, silly, awkward, funny, messy ... human in all its glory.<br><br>A bit shy, a bit inexperienced, he might be, but it was quite clear that Foster was enjoying himself, and in a manner that made Val all the more certain that she'd enjoy what seemed inevitably looming, whatever had set them on this road.&nbsp; She rather enjoyed the thought of thumbing her nose at Roark in such a small manner, doing what she wanted to do, even if it was playing his game, but because it was what she wanted.<br><br>Childish perhaps, but fun.<br><br>This, however, was anything but childish, if also fun.&nbsp; Foster's body was partially in the sun, partially in the shade.&nbsp; Logic might have dictated that she start at one end and work her way the other, so she chose what she wanted again, and started with his stomach, spreading on the lotion with slow and thorough care, alternating between watching her slickened hands slide over his skin, muscle, the indication of bone, and his face, drinking in his reaction to being touched.&nbsp; Of course, it was also rather fun to let her eyes wander down to his bathing suit, which was not concealing very much at all, at this point, but rather revealing that Foster had a very healthy response to sexual stimuli.<br><br>As most of the lotion was absorbed, Val straightened up, and with a mischievous little grin, used her mostly dry fingertips to slowly, and deliberately, trace the outline of the swell that was straining against Foster's suit.&nbsp; Her eyes moved from her movement, to his face, and then back, also deliberately, quite curious as to what he would do ... encourage restraint, egg her on, or suggest a change of venue ... whether it be into the sea where the water would provide cover, or a return to the house.&nbsp; The ice, as it were, was well broken, and Val wasn't particularly shy ... but Foster's comfort was more important than her sense of adventure in this, or even her desire to spite the host that had drawn them here, to so-far good effect.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>20-09-2016, 20:02:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Foster almost flinched at her first touch, his body reacting to the cold of the lotion, or maybe to the sensation of Val putting her hands on him in such an intimate way. Whenever Val looked at him, he did his best to return the look with a smile, or some sign of confidence, instead of the stunned expression he first wore from the new sensation. He did his best to imitate the way she had acted when the tabled were turned and he had been exploring her body, but he couldn't help but shiver or squirm when her fingers hit the right spot, or blush and bite his lip in anticipation of what was still to come.<br><br>When he first had received the letter that had lead him to Roark's 'paradise', he didn't think anything could have distracted him from learning more, not when he was so close. He hadn't counted on Val. Until meeting her, he would have described himself as uninterested in sex, that is was a distraction from things far more important. In the heat of the moment, however, where they were seemed like a distant, unimportant footnote. It didn't matter where they were, or even if it was real. Val was real, and what was happening between them was about the most real thing he'd ever felt. If he relaxed his mind, let himself slip between realities, she seemed to be positively glowing, radiant in a way he could only imagine. And then she began to work her way lower.<br><br>Everything snapped back to a crystal clear image as Foster took a sudden sharp breath as Val's fingertips traced the outline of his swim shorts. His hips shivered and arched toward her hand almost involuntarily as he let out a long sigh. It took him forever to realize that Val was watching him, waiting for his response. His cheeks felt like they turned three shades darker. He wasn't quite sure what she was waiting for him to say, so he just said the first thing that came to mind. "Please don't stop now..." He told her, cheeks burning, a nervous smile playing across his lips.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>23-09-2016, 04:00:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg)</div>After the first few moments, as she spread lotion on Foster's rather pale chest, Val believed without a doubt that however far he'd gone, he was a virtual innocent.&nbsp; Was that Roark's interest, something to do with Foster's virginity.&nbsp; So many of these magical types put a great store on such things ... and in sex itself.&nbsp; It was a powerful thing, as was Foster's desire.&nbsp; That little edge of aura that she could see, even without exerting herself, was of a blend of colors she'd never quite seen before.&nbsp; It was quite beautiful, but unlike those zealots, those butchers, of an earlier age, it was not a thing meant to be preserved, but rather a rainbow, the glimmering sheen of a bubble just before it burst, a butterfly on that first magical moment when it fluttered its wings freely for the first time.<br><br>To preserve that was to destroy it ... and perhaps there was magic in that as well.<br><br>Foster's reaction, immediate and strong, to her light, exploratory touch, as well as the immediate deepening of the red in his aura, told her that it was quite likely that this particular innocence was one that he was well ready to shed.&nbsp; The butterfly would not be long content with its cocoon, no matter how safe, now that it had glimpsed the open sky and breathed in the sweet scent of waiting nectar.<br><br>She might not be the first flower he had seen, but she rather relished the thought that she would be the first he would warm his wings on, so to speak.<br><br><em>"You're braver than I first thought.&nbsp; First jumping down the rabbit hole into Wonderland, solving magical riddles, and now ... ready to pop the cap on the 'drink me' potion and take a bite of the other ..."</em><br><br>Her voice was light, teasing, and warm, with no trace of mockery.&nbsp; He had been brave, and it was brave to do what he was doing now, inviting her touch here, where privacy was even less secure than in the bungalow that they'd been ... assigned.&nbsp; Perhaps he was aware of that as well, and simply taking her advice to start big to heart.<br><br>With his plea that she not stop, Val's fingertips were joined by full digits, and palm, as she cupped the shape already outlined to good relief, stroking through the cloth, watching his face and letting her hand do the seeing.&nbsp; Up.&nbsp; A half-circle of her palm at the swollen tip, down, and up again, and down, dipping lower, her wrist against the sun-hot smooth skin of the inner thigh to give a soft squeeze to the sac.<br><em><br>"This is less about sunblock than an excuse to touch ... to break the ice.&nbsp; There's no pressure ... not from me.&nbsp; Whatever game Roark's laid out for us, only play if it's what you want to do.&nbsp; That's what I plan on doing, and I'm doing ... this ..."</em><br><br>She punctuated the word with another slow, smooth stroke.<br><br><em>"... because it's what I want to do.&nbsp; What is it that <strong>you </strong>want, Foster?"</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>05-10-2016, 20:52:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Foster's eyes were rolling back as she asked, his body shivering with her every touch. It took him several moments to even process she had asked him a question. "Y-yes..." He nearly moaned through a heavy breath, the quivering of his body evident in his voice as well, the word prolonged, his tone staggered. Roark was the last thing he felt like thinking about at the moment. Even the riddle was a distant afterthought to Val, who was the only thing he could even begin to focus on. Almost against his will, he lay back against the towel, fingers digging into fabric and sand as he tried to find his focus.<br><br>He was blushing from her praise. He'd never really thought himself a brave. Curious, perhaps, but brave? A large part of it was simply that he was rarely in situations he believed to be dangerous. If he'd known how much damage he could have done, experimenting with magic, he may have reacted to it differently. Then again, perhaps not. It was impossible to know for sure as an afterthought whether his curiousity would have prevailed over his sense of self preservation, especially when magic was involved. There was just so much he wanted to know, <em>needed</em> to know, now that he'd met someone who believed him. In that sense, Val was perfect for him. Not only did she not think he was crazy, she wanted to explore with him. The thought snapped him back into the moment.<br><br>"Wait..." He could barely breathe the word, digging his elbows into the ground enough to push himself up to look at her. The feeling of her hand on him was intense, far more than anything he could have provided himself. He could barely manage to focus on what he wanted to say, he felt like he was already on the edge, even if he truly wasn't yet. The intensity of her touch only made it feel as much. "I meant... That's not what I want..." He gave her a flustered look. "I mean, it is... I want you..." Foster stumbled with his words. The particular subject was not one he was used to discussing. "I want you to enjoy it too..." He was a deeper red than before. "Or... I want something we'll both enjoy..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>11-10-2016, 02:37:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg)</div><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><em>"Wait ..."</em></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>Val stopped, leaning back on her heels with her hand still wrapped around a not insignificant portion of Foster's body that was saying anything BUT wait or stop.&nbsp; Her eyes moved from the very enjoyable sight of watching him react to her touch to his face, an eyebrow lifting in silent inquiry.<br><br>The change in focus also made her aware of the activity on the beach, or rather, the specific lack thereof in the area where they were otherwise occupied.&nbsp; If she were the suspicious sort, she would have been inclined to think that fate ... or more likely, their host ... was making sure they had uninterrupted time alone.&nbsp; Other than noting it for her own rumination, though, she disregarded it completely.&nbsp; &nbsp;This didn't exactly seem to be the sort of place where anyone would care -- except possibly to cheer them on or offer to join in.<br><br>Foster's face reddened again after the distractions provided had directed blood flow to other areas.&nbsp; Val listened carefully, without change of expression until he blushed deeper and revealed the nature of his concern.&nbsp; At that, she did smile, and very deliberately let her hand move up, and then down again in a slow caress.&nbsp; "I am enjoying myself, Foster - don't doubt that.&nbsp; It's very ... affecting ... to watch someone respond to your touch, to learn what makes them loose control, shed their inhibitions."<br><br>She smiled again, her lips parting as she again looked down and let her hand squeeze again.&nbsp; When she looked up again, there was more heat in her gaze, revealing that however controlled she might be on the surface, it did mean she was unmoved ... and certainly not unaroused.<br><br>Oddly, it was the fact that he was, in some sense, innocent, that guided her control.&nbsp; For all the over-abundant hype about virginity, there was power to be found both in its possession, and it's taking.&nbsp; Making it a good experience for Foster might not enhance her ability to 'see' auras, but it could color his, as well as shape every sexual interaction he might have in the future.<br><br>There was a reason that primitive societies, as well as the more civilized ones, for all that they might bristle at the comparison, gave over the responsibility of the loss of innocence to someone of experience.&nbsp; The process, like so many others, had been corrupted over the years, but all things could be corrupted, wise or not.<br><br><em>"I want <strong>you</strong>, Foster ... and I want <strong>this</strong>.&nbsp; That want isn't going to disappear in the time it would take for us to go back to the bungalow.&nbsp; We're agreed, I think, on what we want.&nbsp; The question now is ... here ... or back in room.&nbsp; I don't care who comes along, but I have the feeling that you might, and that ... matters."</em><br><br>As she said the word, there was a shift in the colors around Foster, and even in the desire that she could see that flowed and merged between them.&nbsp; Whether that was a little checkmark for or against Roark's plan, Val didn't care.&nbsp; There was not giving a fuck what Roark wanted, and then there was what was right.&nbsp; You couldn't have the first without paying attention to the second.<br><br>And while she didn't make any move to release her grip, she remained alert for Foster's movements, Foster's reactions, because that, too, was the right thing to do. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Galactic Druid</strong> on <strong>25-10-2016, 08:26:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Just us..." Foster whispered in reply, as his hips arched ever further into her grip, his eyes rolling back in his his head as he allowed himself to enjoy the sensation, knowing then it was as much what Val wanted as he did. Despite his answer, he seemed to show almost no sign of moving from the spot they had found on the beach, shivering under her ministrations. He'd nearly burrowed into the sand from all the squirming just at her initial touch. While he couldn't see the connection between them the way Val could, he was far from oblivious. He could feel the energy between them with every subtle motion Val made. Sitting up was one of the hardest thing's he'd ever managed.<br><br>As he sat up, he leaned forward, his hand hesitating only briefly before reaching past Val, cupping at the back of her head, as he looked her face to face. His eyes lacked the subtle glow of magic, he was only looking at her, not any deeper beyond the physical realm. "I'm not sure how well I'll be able to wait the trip back." he joked with a nervous laugh, his eyes straying for a moment to look down the beach. From where they were, they could begin to make out the other 'vacationers', distant as they were. "But, I want it to be just us..." he nodded as he said it, looking into Val's eyes as he did. Then, with little warning, he leaned in the rest of the way. <br><br>Foster's fingers tangled in Val's hair as he pressed his lips to hers. Unlike before, he was bolder in his actions, parting his lips against hers, his tongue briefly poking against her lips before retreating once more and he pulled away. He smiled at her, satisfied, as his free hand cupped the one she still gripped him tightly with."And you'll be worth the wait." he added, with a smile. Despite everything about their situation, Foster seemed to be determined to make it romantic as possible, whether that was an attempt at something for her benefit, or simply trying to fulfill his vision of what his own first time might be like, was anyone's guess. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Two Tickets to Paradise (GypsyRose &amp; ThatRPGuy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>28-10-2016, 21:04:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Val_Northrop.jpg)</div>Whether he knew it or not, Foster's responses were in his aura even more than they were his face.&nbsp; His desire was shades of red, blue, and purple, mixed as the pure physical response was tempered with the natural fear of the unknown and anticipation.&nbsp; Had there been none of the other two colors, Val might have been more concerned, but as it was, it only reinforced her opinion of Foster -- an intelligent man more used to disciplining his brain than being carried away by the desires of his body ... but also one who was ready to expand his horizons in perfectly natural ways.<br><br>She made it easier for him, easing off in her touch while not removing her hand altogether.&nbsp; It signaled that this was, if he wanted, only a momentary lull rather than rejection.&nbsp; "Just us," had a certain resonance in his aura, and, she suspected, hers.&nbsp; The time in public had established the desire and allowed it the courage to bloom, but now was the time when the rest of the world was not needed.&nbsp; &nbsp;In the future, that might change, but if Foster were the sort not to regret the loss of his virginity, if not his innocence, in such a public fashion, mostly likely he would have not delayed the discovery until now.<br><br><em>"You'll do fine, as long as you don't mind a few smirks and catcalls along the way."</em><br><br>The kiss was not totally a surprise, but it was welcome all the same.&nbsp; Sex without emotion was eminently possible, and sometimes even desirable in the circumstances.&nbsp; To her mind, 'firsts' were not among those circumstances, and given his confession, had she not already held liking for him, she would have told Roark already that he could go to the devil, if he weren't already there.<br><br>This time, there was no hesitation, and no real shyness.&nbsp; He no longer feared that she would reject him, and that lent confidence that she hoped would only grow.&nbsp; His lips were warm, as were hers, and vaguely flavored with something of the suntan lotion, a hint of coconut and almond, and his hand in her hair arose instincts from a more primal past, tempered with gentleness.&nbsp; She responded, soft, and easy, even if her own eagerness to take things to the next level had grown apace, but did not prolong or deepen the kiss to try to make his decision more difficult.&nbsp; With his ... temperament and curiosity ... Val had little doubt that he would quickly take to more complex games of the sexual nature, both instinctive and more covert, but there was no need to rush.<br><em><br>"Yes, I will be," </em>she answered his quip, lips curving into a smug and confident smile that segued into a teasing laugh.&nbsp; <em>"And so will you."</em><br><br>She rose, the muscles in her thighs bunching, her hand moving to clasp in, around, his.&nbsp; <em>"Leave it,"</em> she suggested, signaling her intent, at least, to do so.&nbsp; Roark had yanked them here without asking, so he likely could draft his little ball of light to play cleanup duty if he didn't want to do it himself ... Though there was the little matter of ...<br><em><br>"Though if you're shy about how well you're filling out those shorts at the moment, the basket or the blanket would provide camouflage, though I doubt anyone really looking wouldn't at least hazard a guess to where we're going, and why."</em><br><br>She didn't mind either way.&nbsp; Right now was for Foster, though she certainly planned to benefit from it, too, in the very near future.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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