(Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Dhi on 04-04-2013, 18:48:51</h2>
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				Title: <strong>(Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>04-04-2013, 18:48:51</strong>
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				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/d8/Festhallexternal.jpg)</td><td><strong>Location:</strong> Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><br><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><em><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">T</span></em></span>he dirty Sigil rain cascaded down the textured granite walls of the Civic Festhall, washing away the previous day's grime from the thousand-foot buttressed edifice and painting a new grime of mineral and color. The fluted whistle of water running through the honeycombed sculptures of the wall foretold the weather for anyone with the patience and the know-how to really stop and listen. Today would be a stormy day, the piping satyr tune said. A good day to be within these opulent halls and a bad day to be wandering the City of Doors alone.<br><br>The success of the Civic Festhall was a testament to the decadence of Sigil. It was the Society of Sensation that ran the massive eyesore, its extensive Sensoriums with all their pleasures, its theaters of bizarre and macabre entertainment, its lecture halls dedicated to the more intellectual pursuits of sensory experience. It was the Sensoriums that drew visitors of every kind and supply the faction with a seemingly endless flow of coin. One need only step into one of the chambers with a magical recorder stone, and concentrate on the sensation she wished to retrieve from the Sensorium's vast libraries in order to live it, if only for a moment in time. Zero risk, pure reward- it's no wonder the Sensates do a brisk business.</td></tr></tbody></table><hr><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/e8/Cuathadananin.jpg)<em>Cuatha Da'nanin</em><br><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/39/Doomguards.jpg)<em>Doomguards</em></td><td><strong>Suspicious Characters</strong><br><strong>Location:</strong> Reception Hall, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><em><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">T</span></em></span>he audience chamber of a bygone tyrant was long since repurposed into a relaxed and airy reception hall for Sensate business. The tall, narrow, almost yonic entry stood open to visitors, with dozens already waiting in the marble-pillared corridor. Humbly seated at the throne, penning the business of visitors in achingly elegant script written by a golden-tanned hand, was the half-elf Cuatha Da'nanin, lover to Factol Erin Montgomery Darkflame. A calm and gentle woman, at peace with the hectic business around her, Cuatha could often be found receiving visitors with a pleasant smile and a kind word.<br><br>"Good day, and welcome to the Civic Festhall. What have you come to experience?" the half-elf's soft voice inquired of one visitor after another. She brought her teacup to her lips with fingers that were notched by a life of violence, with toned muscle that had not softened though her fighting days were a decade behind her. She was the temperance to Factol Darkflame's passion; they complemented each other, but they did not complete each other. There were many more lovers they were rumored to share, sometimes on Cuatha's part, sometimes on Erin's, and often simultaneously in the same bed.<br><br>The cloaks of three new visitors to the Festhall were still shedding the morning's rain as they moved through the pillars to bypass the pleasant receptionist. A tall, gaunt githzerai soldier was first to draw down the hood of his anonymous cloak and let the light glint off the tarnished Doomguard emblem over his breast. A lithe elven rogue followed suit, and their third, a witch in black with dark kohl-lined eyes, paced out her steps with a staff of carved dark wood.<br>"It's just a maze of rooms," the rogue said to the others. "How are we supposed to find one Sensate's experience?"<br>"You needn't find anything," said the witch. "The recorder stone will conjure whatever sensation you concentrate on."<br>"So I hold the stone, and think about what a modron feels like?"<br>"No," the githzerai answered. "Concentrate on what it feels like to <em>no longer be </em>a modron."</td></tr></tbody></table><hr><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em></td><td><strong>Damsel In Distress</strong><br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><em><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">A</span></span></em>n olive-skinned and almond-eyed woman was equally lost among the private Sensorium reserved for faction members. Though she was small of stature, she was not easy to overlook in the brightly colored traditional silks of some backwoods Prime Material world. A Clueless, that's what she was- a fresh face to the planes, and certainly no Sensate. The sound of footsteps through the halls had her ducking into an alcove and reeling in her decorative scarf, waiting for the voices to pass. Only once the sound had faded away did she press on, into those forbidden halls, and into the first unclaimed Sensorium she came to.<br><br>Her eyes went wide to behold the clean white room, unadorned and waiting to be filled with conjured sensation that would make the real world pale by comparison. The door began to close behind her, but in her distraction, it remained ajar, and her voice drifted out into the hall. "How does this work?" she wondered, her hands clasped to her heart, inspecting every featureless crevice. Finally, she fell to her knees and then to a prostrate bow, in a delicate state of reverence. "O great Sensate gods, I implore you," she began to pray. "I wish to experience the things I could never experience. Show me the world. I would like...the satisfaction of a life's work completed." Nothing happened. "Please, let me feel the warmth that rises off the sand of a beach." Still nothing.<br><br>With utmost care, she unfastened the modest jewelry from her neck, and laid it as a gift on the Sensorium floor. "Please," she said to the unfeeling chamber, "I don't have much time. Please." Much too soon, the footsteps out in the hall were returning. Out of the room she bolted like a flushed pheasant, not bothering to retrieve her agate necklace, running, afraid, confused. She would not last long without being discovered.</td></tr></tbody></table><hr><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/20/Annalimug2.jpg)<br><em>Factotum Annali Webspinner </em></td><td><strong>Carnival</strong><br><strong>Location:</strong> Elloweth Theater, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><em>T</em></span></span>he little theater stage was lit only by skylight, with all the lapping waves of water across the panes casting surreal ripples of light and shadow across nervous performers. Every sound of set adjustment or prop dragged onto the stage echoed into the rows of empty seats, empty save for the aisle where one bariaur stood watching, a time sheet in her hands across her angora-furred lap, her mouth twisted to one side as she surveyed the day's applicants.<br><br>"Elloweth Theater is not high culture," she addressed the creatures on stage. "You can bring high culture if you like, but your audience is unlikely to appreciate it." Her immaculately groomed ewe-like body swayed slowly on four legs, in familiar territory, in command of the situation as she stood in judgement of the would-be singers, actors, illusionists, performers. "It's got to have pizzazz, it's got to have sex, it's got to appeal to berks on a primal level or it's not going to fly." The applicants seemed confident that their acts would, indeed, appeal. They always did. Annali's lashes fell heavy as she observed that surge of confidence that everyone <em>else </em>didn't have what it took. "There are two slots available. You've each got five minutes to amaze me. Let's start with- mm- you two, with the ribbons."<br><br>The bariaur watched as the state was cleared of all but the two sylph. A gentle whirlwind unfurled between them, streamers of diaphanous veils juggled from one to the other as they circled each other in aerial acrobatics. Porcelain skin contrasted against rich pastel colors, translucent and changing with light and temperature like a skittish chameleon, speckled with dazzling flecks of gold. "Interesting," Annali appraised with an inscrutable look over the rims of her spectacles.<br><br>Soon the dancers were fluttering soundlessly to the ground like seed pods twirled in the wind. Annali gave perfunctory applause, and smoothed her finely tailored jacket down. Then came the questions, each one like an unexpected cold splash, leaving the performers flustered. "Would you describe this dance as ironically trite?" A box was checked off. "Could we add some form of audience participation?" Another box was checked, this time with a <em>hmm </em>and a look of concern. "How do you feel about sharing the stage with another act?" And by this time, with the pen hovering to make its third strike, Annali found that anxious applicants would agree to almost anything. She smiled as she noted the sylphs' answer. Alone, they weren't seat fillers. But put it all together, make it a bewildering circus of sensory experience, and that would sell tickets. "Right. Thank you, ladies."<br><br>The stage was cleared again, in preparation for the next applicant. "Who's next?"</td></tr></tbody></table><hr><strong>It Begins with a Body</strong><br><strong>Location:</strong> Public Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><em><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">I</span></span></em>t was a little treat, once a week, to come to the Public Sensorium and experience something strange and dangerous. Sometimes it was Arcadia, or Elysium, and sometimes it was darker places than those. Nilasa entered the chamber reserved for her use and slipped her hands onto a fresh recorder stone, black and unsmudged by the fingerprints of a thousand touches. "I want to fly," she told the stone. As her eyes closed, the Sensorium chamber swarmed with palpable magic. She laughed giddily, her teeth raked across a ruby lip, lost in a dream only she was experiencing.<br><br>Her joy was unmistakable. Her breath swelled more than her frame could contain as she let the experience become as real as if she were truly there. Then, her smile began to fade. "I can't see. Make it lighter, please," she spoke to the stone. Nilasa frowned. "I can't-" Something imagined startled her, and she jumped, but her hands never left the stone. "What is that?" Her body became hunched and troubled, as though she were tiptoeing through a cobwebbed forest. Soft features twisted in fear. "No, I don't like this." Her hands jumped, still adhered to the stone, still with her eyes sealed, though tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Turn it off. <em>Turn it off." </em>The magic of the Sensorium changed. The bright and cheerful energy took a dark and yawning atmosphere. The hairs on Nilasa's head became weightless and drifting as her whole body trembled in terror.<br><br>Some minutes later, another found her there, and a shrill scream pierced the peace of the Public Sensorium. There was Nilasa, sprawled out on the chamber floor, stone dead without a wound on her body.<br><div align="center">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/56/Deadsensate.jpg)</div></td></tr></tbody></table>
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				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kunoichi</strong> on <strong>04-04-2013, 20:47:54</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Harmony<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Damsel In Distress<br><br>The Exiled Modron known as Harmony walked down the halls of the Civic Festhall, her route predetermined by her familiarity with the layout of the building.&nbsp; Her destination was one room within the group of private sensoriums set apart for the exclusive use of members of her faction, and it was one that she had reserved for her own use that morning.&nbsp; There were a number of new experiences that she had become curious about experiencing after speaking with a variety of people throughout the previous day, and on this day, she intended to avail herself of the facilities, and of the Civic Festhall's expansive library of recorded sensations.&nbsp; The emotional feedback of a mother's love for her child, the 'intoxicating' scent of a finely-aged Elysian wine, the 'exquisite pleasure' of a night of copulation with a succubus, followed by the 'soul-crushing' negative feedback as she attempted to feed on the soul of the donor of that particular experience the following morning, the 'painful torture' of having one's skin flayed off by demons...&nbsp; These were the experiences she had selected to view that morning, during the few hours in which the room would be open to her.&nbsp; She was confident that each new set of data would provide its own insight into the life that she had chosen to lead.<br><br>Before the construct could reach her appointed room, however, a surprising occurrence caused her to stop short.&nbsp; The door to the room had been left ajar as expected, a sign that the room was unoccupied, but a person had nonetheless some rushing out from within, and taken off at a run down the hallways.&nbsp; Strange and unexpected as it was, it caused the Modron to come to a complete halt, standing motionless in the hallway as she attempted to process what had happened.&nbsp; What <em>had</em> happened?&nbsp; The door had been left ajar, the room should have been unoccupied, but a person had come out from within.&nbsp; This person was female, race indeterminate, with olive skin and dressed in some brightly-colored material, likely silk.&nbsp; This person, tentatively identified as 'the unknown woman', was moving at great speed.<br><br>Hypothesis: The unknown woman had reserved the room for use before her own arrival.&nbsp; Supporting evidence: The urgency with which she departed the room was not unfamiliar to the Modron.&nbsp; Though she herself kept precise timing in all activities, others were unable to be as accurate, especially when they were caught up in the many sensations the sensoriums had to offer.&nbsp; This often caused them to experience the phenomenon known as 'running late', a curious phenomenon which appeared to be so named because of the large amount of running required of those under its effects.&nbsp; The possibility thus existed that the unknown woman had become enthralled by the experiences she was calling up, her timing had become inaccurate, and she was now 'running late' to her next destination.&nbsp; Conflicting evidence: None.<br><br>Hypothesis tentatively deemed 'proven'.<br><br>The agate necklace the construct found on the floor of the sensorium when she entered the room provided further supporting evidence for that hypothesis.&nbsp; Those who were 'in a hurry' were known to occasionally leave items behind when they departed.&nbsp; This new piece of evidence caused her to stop short again as she began to contemplate other lines of thought, however.<br><br>The floor was not a proper place for an agate necklace.&nbsp; The proper place for an agate necklace was either to be stored in a safe place, or else displayed for one of a variety of purposes, typically by hanging it around the neck of a person or a mannequin.&nbsp; The agate necklace was not in its proper place.&nbsp; As a Modron, a being that hailed from Mechanus, the plane of law and order, Harmony felt that this fact was...&nbsp; Irritating.&nbsp; Yes, that was the proper descriptor for the emotional feedback she was experiencing.&nbsp; It was an irritant, for this necklace to be out of its proper place, and that irritation would affect her ability to properly absorb the data from the sensations she wished to experience.&nbsp; The course of action to take, then, was clear, and the Modron wasted no time in picking up the necklace and exiting the sensorium.<br><br>And that was the story of how Golden Morning Radiance would soon find herself being pursued by a strange, naked woman with golden skin and a body partially made out of a variety of metals, chief among them bronze and brass.
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				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>04-04-2013, 23:28:22</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> Public Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> It Begins with a Body<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/d1/Alzeggra.jpg)</div></div><br>Alzeggra was a frequent visitor to Sensates' headquarters.&nbsp; Although they did not have the unmatched libraries of lore of the Fraternal Order, the memories, thoughts, and feelings of millions of entities across the Planes was one of the most valuable forms of knowledge.&nbsp; As a devotee of Fharlanghn and scout-for-hire, the dark elf made an honest, if dangerous, living exploring the vast reaches of the planes for interested patrons.&nbsp; A wealthy patron petitioned her help for finding a secret passage to the Phantom Plane, an Abyssal layer which has been closed off from outside travel by its lord for centuries.&nbsp; Many interested parties tried finding ways to sneak into the layer, with little success, but this did not deter her in the least.<br><br>The familiar face of Talren greeted Alzeggra with a smile.&nbsp; The aasimar had light features and an aura about him which made him appear more lively and colorful.&nbsp; "It's good to see you, Alz.&nbsp; Are you here for business or pleasure?"<br><br>"I'm here for the Abyss," Alzeggra said.&nbsp; "Particularly regarding its danger."<br><br>"An interesting request," Talren said as he put his hand to his chin.&nbsp; "Might I ask why?"<br><br>"I need to remind myself of what's to come."<br><br>"We should have a room reserved for you."<br><br>Alzeggra walked inside the chamber and grasped the smooth recorder stone by its sides.&nbsp; She spent a lengthy bout of time in a singular chamber, absorbing the twisted thoughts and desires of beings made of Chaos and Evil.&nbsp; Hatred, domination, centuries of scheming, and all manner of sadistic selfishness flew past her like so many leaves upon the wind.&nbsp; It helped to remind herself of the many dangers to come as an explorer in the Planes.&nbsp; She was not a masochist by any means, but the memories of pain helped teach her what was at stake should she fail.<br><br>Suddenly a scream brought her out of her trance.&nbsp; It was not part of the memories, for she found herself back in the chamber.&nbsp; The cry came from the same floor, not far from her location.&nbsp; Alzeggra immediately sprung to her feet and to the source of the disturbance, short sword in hand.&nbsp; A single body lay on the floor beyond the doorway.&nbsp; The drow clutched her holy symbol and uttered a prayer, yet the conjured healing spell failed to rouse her.&nbsp; She was dead.<br><br>"Alzeggra, was that you?!" Talren exclaimed.&nbsp; He gave a jump backwards when he saw the corpse.&nbsp; "What happened here?!"<br><br>"I don't know," Alezeggra said.&nbsp; She noticed that her body was not far from the recording stone, and her arms were splayed out as though she was touching it before her untimely demise.&nbsp; "I don't see any wounds.&nbsp; I'd hazard a guess that she was mentally assaulted.<br><br>Talren began to cast a divination spell, but Alzeggra grabbed his hands, preventing the motions for its completion.&nbsp; "If the spell which killed her is still active, it might affect you as well.&nbsp; I'd hazard a guess, but the recording stone might be trapped."<br><br>Talren shook his head.&nbsp; "How did this happen?&nbsp; Why?"<br><br>"I don't know," Alzeggra said.&nbsp; "Sensations can be powerful, but they're never lethal.&nbsp; This looks like a murder, if I ever saw one."
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				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>05-04-2013, 08:31:20</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Reception Hall, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Suspicious Characters<br><br>Even to many of those who knew the Civic Festhall well the place could be a little confusing. The mishmash of styles and materials didn't come together in an unpleasant way —&nbsp;which was something of a surprise in itself, really —&nbsp;but it certainly was a little dazzling at the very least. And Perrin was convinced she had it worse than anyone else. She <em>worked</em> at the Festhall half the time, and while she'd never get lost there she did find moving around the great building to be an overwhelming experience. <br><br>It was the floors that were the problem. Everyone noticed how diverse and varied the floors were, carved in a hundred different ways out of as many different stones and woods, and it was said that with a little pracitse you could tell exactly where you were just by wiggling your feet a little. <br><br>Which was all in good for those who wanted to practise the skill, but at least they had the option. And even when they did there was a world of difference between a pair of dainty feet and twenty odd feet of body length. It wouldn't have been too bad if it were just a transition from tile to flagstones to hardwood to whatever else had been cheap, but whomever had designed the Festhall had decided to get <em>creative</em>. There were certain spots that were so bad, whether so smooth as to be slick or whatever else had gone wrong, that she had to abandon her usual lateral undulation in exchange for a sidewind, or even a concertina or rectilinear push here and there. <br><br>At least the most travelled areas tended not to be too bad, some spots even feeling rather nice as she undulated over them. And the broad stone sheets by the entrance, she had to admit, where absolutely brilliant at drying off her coils as she came in from the drizzle. A good thing, as it was bad enough making sure she wasn't tracking mud all over. On a day like this it must have saved half an hour's work toweling off before she could get down to work. <br><br>Which was more valuable than it appeared. She didn't quite have a reputation for being a lazy worker. A lazy person, certainly, but not when it came to her responsibilities around the Festhall. That, however, was a carefully maintained bit of deceit, and while she was productive enough to sometimes even manage to almost catch up on everything that came her way, it was not for diligent labour. She barely spent two-thirds of her time actually seeing to <em>that</em>. <br><br>But that didn't mean she was simply coiling up and wasting time. Take today, or really the entire previous week, spent turning an idea about risk over in her mind in between signatures to this document or her seal added to a summary report, and the thousand other details that soaked up her official attention. There were a hundred ways to deal with risk that the Society employed, of course, but they by and large had more to do with how to avoid being eaten by a glabrezu than the sorts of risks Perrin was more familiar with. <br><br>A few hours into the day and Perrin couldn't take it anymore. Undulating back to through the building she raised the human part of her up an extra foot or two for a better view as she scanned the crowds milling by. <br><br>Aha, Cuatha was remarkably easy to find, and easy to corner as well, chained to a desk as she was, slowly eating through paperwork in between being pestered by passers by. Perrin put on her best smile, fangs gleaming —&nbsp;the one so pretty that it actually made people feel nervous being on the receiving end —&nbsp;and sped up, straightening out her body to weave through the crowd.<br><br>…and of course she was headed off before she even got close, a pack of half a dozen lost looking snack-sized things sans shoes clustering around the woman's seat. Perrin stuck around the edges for a minute or two, but by the sounds of things they were going nowhere in a hurry. She huffed, the tip of her tail vibrating in annoyance as she uncoiled. Well, Cuatha probably wouldn't have had more than a few minutes for her anyhow. She'd just have to find someone else important. Where did all the important people congregate at this time of day, anyhow? That was the problem with the Society. Everyone kept peculiar hours, and there weren't exactly reliable guidelines as to which party room they'd be in anyhow.<br><br>She had gone just a few bodylengths onwards, chewing over this latest problem when she was drawn up short. The accent was weird enough, but the content of the words was weirder. <br><br>Normally it would hardly have been any scales off Perrin's tail what odd things were said, and indeed, she could barely go a day without hearing something that left her baffled, offended, or puzzled-yet-aroused. But concentrate on what it felt like to no longer be a modron? Okay, so perhaps it <em>could</em> have been innocent. And perhaps they weren't referring to the only sort-of-former modron she knew, and even if they were they really were simply curious how it felt. And maybe they hadn't done their research and managed to track down the signed in triplicate court proceedings that had led to the feeling of no longer being a modron. And it could be that even if they had they still had only the best of intentions. <br><br>And as long as she were chaining together that many ifs, maybe someday she'd return home, quit her position at university, and skip off to be a Sea Beggar captain. <br><br>Perrin ran her tongue over her fangs as she did an abrupt about face. No point in sticking around to eavesdrop, not with the way she managed to be the complete opposite of inconspicuous. <br><br>Well then, time to find Harmony, find out if this was all above the board, and if not start worrying about what kind of hot water her well-documented stint in Mechanus might have landed her in this time. And the modron too, she supposed, but mostly her.
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				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>12-04-2013, 07:37:46</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/8b/White_hair-Changeling.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fei<br><strong>Location:</strong> Elloweth Theater, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Carnival<br><hr><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;No matter how accomplished an actor was the butterflies before try-outs still came.&nbsp; Fei wondered if this was a sensation her brothers and sisters would find stimulating.&nbsp; She was new to the Sensate and often had to remind herself that every sensation had value.&nbsp; The mild sting of a Chexxian Humming Bee held a vastly different sensation than the crushing despair one gets gazing into the River Styx, but that difference is where the value of a sense lies.&nbsp; So again Fei wondered.&nbsp; Is that slight queasiness of anticipation, that quiet shake of adrenaline before stepping onstage to be judged a worthy sensation? Perhaps, she would have to ask.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; The beautiful Iosican human standing next to Fei was shaking like the proverbial leaf.&nbsp; Poor Aella.&nbsp; She was a terrible actress.&nbsp; Truly horrid, but she had other talents that oh so made up for her complete destruction of Fei’s beloved art.&nbsp; First of all Aella was beautiful in a way few human women were.&nbsp; She was the kind of beautiful that started wars between men and nations.&nbsp; She was also an exquisite lover.&nbsp; She was attentive and curious and oh so very willing.&nbsp; These were the qualities Fei required for her art.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; Aella gave Fei a terrified smile as they waited for the air dancing sylphs to finish their act.&nbsp; The smile elicited a sympathetic look from Fei.&nbsp; She appeared for the moment as her favorite of guises, a porcelain skinned Tian woman with coal black hair.&nbsp; Her familiar silken robes had been replaced with a diaphanous white gown in the style of Aella’s Iosican kin.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Do not be concerned.&nbsp; Your part is easy.&nbsp; You will do fine.” She assured the veritable Goddess of Beauty.&nbsp; “I promise.”&nbsp; She cupped Aella’s perfect chin in her hand and stood on her tip toes to kiss her lightly on the lips.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was a wonderful distraction.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"Who's next?"<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Fei pulled away from Aella and looked over her shoulder and called.&nbsp; “That would be me <div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/12/PZO1112-Medusa.jpg)</div>Factorum Webspinner.” Before any sudden bouts of panic could set in on her exquisite companion she grabbed Aella’s hand and pulled her onstage with her and positioned her at center stage where Aella’s posed arms outstretched as if reaching for something unattainable.&nbsp; Once satisfied Fei whispered an incantation and watched as Aella’s beautiful, naked skin turned to agate streaked marble.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Fei walked to the front of the stage and bowed respectfully to Annali, her form rippling under her robes.&nbsp; Fei’s skin tinged green, small scales covering her arms and legs while her eyes yellowed and iris’s split like a snakes.&nbsp; Her long strands of hair roiled and twisted into a mass of snakes until the beautiful and terrible form of Pharessica stood before the crowd.&nbsp; The legend of Pharessica was Iosican.&nbsp; It was the tale of how the great Medusa fell in love with one of her victims Talia and begged the gods to release her love from her stone curse so that they could be together once more.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; Pharessica began her solliloquiy in a haunted tone as she approached the marble statue, her hands caressing the stone curves of its waist and its perfectly flat stomach.&nbsp; She pressed her full figure against Talia’s perfect back feeling the cold stone skin against her flesh and wrapped her arms around her lover in anguish at the state she had caused.&nbsp; Her voice now filled with wanton desire as her serpentine hair caressed the smooth neck and shoulders of the naked statue, Pharessica’s delicately clawed hands cupped eternally nubile breasts and drew fingertips across marble nipples.&nbsp; Pharessica body writhed against her stone lover as her prose quickened with heightened breath and desire.&nbsp; She twirled before Talia her loosened robe spinning away from her body revealing her own wonderous scaled and naked form.&nbsp; Pharessica prostrated herself before her frozen Talia begging for her forgiveness. She clawed at her own flesh in ways both sensual and vile begging for Talia to be flesh once more so that she could feel her again, be touched by her again. She pleaded with the gods to grant her her wish.&nbsp; The once proud Queen groveling at the feet of her beloved as the marble skin began to fade and Talia was flesh once more.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Her performance done Fei placed another soft kiss in Aella’s lips.&nbsp; She had done so well after all.&nbsp; Much better than the last time when she had fainted dead away the moment they had stepped on stage. Fei wasn’t sure if she was to high culture or not, but she was happy with the performance and that was a most delightful sensation.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>12-04-2013, 10:07:22</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Open<br><br>The almond-eyed woman was a stranger in the private halls of the Sensate Sensoriums. It happened, from time to time- an addict itching for unfiltered experience, or a rebellious sod with more curiosity than caution, oft times. Golden Morning Radiance was neither. She was bedogged by something unseen, scampering silently through the rings within rings of the Sensorium halls on shoes made of cloth, a flash of colorful cloth around endlessly curving corners. Soon, she reached the open gallery to the levels above and below, where the guard would be on her if they were not already. She spun around, and in her rush nearly ran into Harmony. She was a tickle of silk, and a scent of fading ritual incense, and quickly backed away.<br><br>It shocked her that the modron was naked, even though modrons could be said to always be naked. Her hands came up to shield her eyes, both of them, in a stiff-fingered steeple over her nose. Her mouth was a line of embarrassment. "Forgive me," she said, though her fingers began to tilt to allow her to see more. The necklace drew her attention. "Are you...a Sensate god?" Already, her voice sounded ready to believe that the strange creature before her was divinity. But there were no gods allowed in Sigil- everybody knew that. "I didn't mean to upset your shrine. I only came to pray for an experience. Please- I need to change my fate, or the Judge of the Dead will find me a dull waste of life. Will you help me?"</td></tr></tbody></table><hr><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2c/Doomguardra-aketh.jpg)<br><em>Doomguard Ra'aketh</em><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/95/Doomguardtaurnil.jpg)<br><em>Doomguard Taurnil</em><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/36/Doomguardmalmury.png)<br><em>Doomguard Malmury</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Ra'aketh, Taurnil, and Malmury<br><strong>Location:</strong> Public Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra, Open<br><br>As Peregrine was departing, the three strangers moved deeper into the Civic Festhall, past the lecture halls where the experts and blowhards of the planes were sharing their experiences with an eager new generation of planewalkers through story and demonstration. Through one open door, an ursine creature with tiny spectacles perched on his distinguished muzzle and dressed in a robe embroidered with sweeping celestial imagery was giving a lecture on the rakasta of a world called Mystara. Within another training hall were the sounds of target practice, the howl of wind and the sizzle of fire as pockets of planar energy posed the challenge of learning to shoot in the tunnels of Pandemonium or the killing blaze of the Plane of Fire. One of the strangers- the elf rogue- stopped to watch a moment.<br><br>"Come along, Taurnil" the githzerai called after him, "their education is a farse."<br>"Isn't it worthwhile to learn how to fight?" asked the elf.<br>"If you wish to throw knives into the winds of Pandemonium, go there, and do it. Training with simplistic mockeries will only teach you to fight simplistic mockeries," the githzerai deadpanned. "To reduce the great entropy of the planes to a classroom exercise is folly. All of this is folly."<br>"Lay it on thick enough, Ra'aketh?" said the witch.<br>There was a moment's ponderance from the elf, and then they continued on. There were crowds already pouring into the Public Sensorium as they arrived. The rogue bumped shoulders with someone in the hall, and a recorder stone clattered to the rough-textured floor. "Oi, you're in a hurry," the elf grunt. He scooped up the stone, twirled it lightly through his fingers, and pressed such an object into the palm of its owner. "Be more careful with those."<br><br>They were farther in, among the tiny chambers of the budget Sensoriums, when the rogue opened his hand again and the pilfered recorder stone flipped nimbly over his knuckles. "Right, that's my part done. Let's get on with it, shall we?"<br>The pacing of the witch's staff came to a stop as she sighted the gawkers come to see the late Nilasa. "Is that what I think it is?" she wondered with more wicked amusement than one really ought to have watching people grieve. "Some berk's shuffled the mortal coil in one of them. Most likely orgasmed to death."<br>"That does not happen," the githzerai said. "But keep your ears open." His beady eyes lingered for a long moment on Alzeggra there by the body, as the three of them together moved down the hall and into an available Sensorium.<br><br>No sooner had the door closed than the recorder stone's magic sprang to life for the three Sinkers.</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>13-04-2013, 01:45:31</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Location:</strong> Public Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Alzeggra<br><br>Though Nilasa was not long dead, it was too late for any healing to save her. She had been a young woman, relatively healthy, for a Cager. Now a chill emanated from her body from the center of her chest to the surface of her skin, and her eyes had gone blank as though the iris and pupil were simply erased. She had died in a state of terror. It was reminiscent of the drain of a wight, feeding on the energy of a living creature, or a vampire, or any number of intelligent undead. Though the Sensoriums could relay such an experience, it was never supposed to result in actual loss or death. The whole point of the Sensoriums was that they were safe.<br>"Is that Nilasa?" came one voice from the murmuring crowd.<br>"She hadn't been in there long," said another. "Only five minutes."<br><br>The illumination in the chamber where Nilasa had lost her life had been snuffed, but that posed no difficulty for drow eyes to see. A humble but untidy bag of her belongings still sat on the floor where Nilasa must've taken her experience, tipped over, spilling a few platinum coins, each a fresh mintage- much larger coinage than someone using the common Sensoriums usually had to throw around. Among other things, there were her Sigil papers, identifying her as Nilasa, born at the gate-town of Automata in the Outlands beyond Sigil- a gateway to the plane of Mechanus. A work visa was given for her stay in Sigil, vouched by someone named Heiron Lifegiver.<br><br>The recorder stone, which might have delivered a sensation that claimed Nilasa's life, lay inert in the groove where it'd been placed, a lone gleam in the shadows.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>13-04-2013, 03:15:06</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> Public Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> It Begins with a Body, Open<br><br>Alzeggra knew that it was a risk to do so, yet she crept up to where the recording stone lay and picked it up in a protective cloth before depositing it in one of her pockets.&nbsp; It reverberated ever so slightly at her touch.<br><br>It wasn't typical of her to steal or take things without permission.&nbsp; It happened a few times in her career, but every time it involved stealing something back.&nbsp; Today would be her first theft, of a murder victim no less; it wasn't a pleasant thought.<br><br><em>Besides, this woman's probably a fellow Sensate,</em> Alzeggra thought.&nbsp; <em>We should look after our own.&nbsp; I'm only using it to help solve her murder, a minor theft can be justified.</em>&nbsp; She left the bag alone, for now.<br><br>"Clear the way, people!" a voice boomed out.&nbsp; "A professional is on the scene, now!"<br><br>A human female clad in plate mail made her way to the front.&nbsp; The blade at her side and the symbol of a sword with a shining hilt marked her as a member of the Harmonium.&nbsp; Alzeggra recognized her as Rachel Syrios, a priest of St. Cuthbert and one of the self-designated peacekeepers of Sigil, the Harmonium.&nbsp; She shook her head disapprovingly as she laid her eyes on the crowd, Alzeggra in particular.<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5f/HarmoniumCleric.jpg)</div></div><br>"Why are you lingering around the scene?!" Rachel asked.&nbsp; "Get out of the way!"<br><br>All the onlookers meekly shuffled outside the room, except for Alzeggra, who stayed.<br><br>Rachel scanned the crowd after casting a light spell and retrieving Nilasa's belongings.&nbsp; "Here's how we'll do things," she intoned.&nbsp; "I'll ask each of you some questions pertaining to the incident.&nbsp; I'll start with you, drow."&nbsp; Rachel then uttered a spell, and a sensation of impending judgment swept all of them.&nbsp; Alzeggra recognized it as a zone of truth spell.<br><br>Alzeggra glared at her.&nbsp; The Hardheads were too zealous and thuggish to be trusted when it came to more sensitive affairs.&nbsp; Rachel was one of the more dedicated and introspective among the order due to her clerical training, but when it came to dark elves she was prejudiced to assume the worst.&nbsp; She hoped that things would go more pleasantly than the last time they had met in the Hive Ward...<br><br>Talren and the others were looking in her general direction, expecting a response.&nbsp; She was one of the few Sensates experienced in more dangerous matters, and was at the scene of the crime.<br><br>"I heard a scream while perusing the Sensoriums," Alzeggra said.&nbsp; "It broke me out of my concentration and I rushed to investigate, and I found her this way when I came into the room."<br><br>Alzeggra was not particularly focused on her inquisitor when talking.&nbsp; Out across the room she spotted three people in cloaks, the githzerai's topknot on an otherwise bald head the most distinct features among them.<br><br>"Right.&nbsp; And why did you linger here, instead of summoning the authorities?"<br><br>"I hardly had time to do so, and immediately fleeing a murder scene would look most suspicious."<br><br>Talren raised his hand.&nbsp; "I can vouch for her trustworthiness," he said.&nbsp; "She could not have killed her from where she was."<br><br>Rachel stared at Talren for a minute, as though considering whether the aasimar really meant what he said.&nbsp; But even without magical compulsion Alzeggra knew that he wouldn't say it any different.<br><br>Alzeggra briefly slipped her hand into her pockets when Rachel turned away, feeling the stone buried under the cloth.&nbsp; She hoped that some distraction would arise which would grant her opportunity to leave.&nbsp; <em>That cloaked trio in particular looked out of place,</em> she thought.&nbsp; <em>I'll need to keep my eyes on them, since it's clear that the resident Hardhead won't.</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kunoichi</strong> on <strong>13-04-2013, 04:14:00</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Harmony<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance, Open<br><br>Harmony had little difficulty pursuing the unknown woman through the hallways of the Civic Festhall.&nbsp; She was far more familiar with the layout of the building than the woman she pursued, after all, and had also the benefit of not growing tired when she exerted herself.&nbsp; Keeping pace with the unknown woman was an easy task.&nbsp; When the woman stopped, she slowed her own pace as she walked up to her, and extended the hand that held the agate necklace, intending to return it.&nbsp; However, the unknown woman's reaction was... unexpected.<br><br>Covering her eyes and forming a facial expression that the Modron had come to recognize as being consistent with 'embarrassment' was not the surprising part of the unknown woman's reaction.&nbsp; Indeed, it was a reaction that the rogue construct had seen quite often since coming to Sigil, typically in those who were meeting or otherwise seeing her for the first time.&nbsp; Based on those previous encounters, the construct predicted that the woman would soon move from covering her eyes to staring at her, and felt some satisfaction when her prediction turned out to be correct and the woman began to peek at her from between her fingers.&nbsp; She felt that she was beginning to gain a better grasp of social interactions.<br><br>That feeling was proven incorrect when the unknown woman spoke, however, and her words were so surprising and confusing that the Modron ceased movement for several seconds while her brain attempted to comprehend the meaning of what she was being told.&nbsp; The unknown woman... believed her to be a god?&nbsp; There were no gods in Sigil, however.&nbsp; This fact was common knowledge.&nbsp; Additionally, the Modron knew of no shrines that had been 'upset', and knew that one did not have to pray for experiences in order to receive them from the Sensoriums.&nbsp; The unknown woman appeared to be mistaken about many things.<br><br>Hypothesis: The unknown woman was one of those individuals colloquially referred to as 'Clueless'.&nbsp; Supporting evidence: The lack of knowledge displayed in nearly every word she had spoken.&nbsp; Conflicting evidence: None.&nbsp; This was enough for Harmony to upgrade the unknown woman's identifier to 'the clueless woman', for the purposes of interacting with her.<br><br>The clueless woman's request for aid, however, was a sensible one.&nbsp; Someone with such a complete lack of knowledge was certainly in need of any aid they could receive.&nbsp; Additionally, the experience of 'helping' another individual in some task was one that Harmony had not considered properly appreciating before.&nbsp; With her own schedule already disrupted, she saw no harm in pursuing this new experience in place of those she had been planning to examine earlier.&nbsp; They would still be available tomorrow, and she had the free time in her schedule to accommodate them.<br><br>Taking the clasps of the agate necklace in both hands, the Modron moved to put the jewelry back into its proper place, fastening it about the neck of its owner.&nbsp; Allowing a small, satisfied smile to show on her face from having properly sorted the item, she then spoke.<br><br>"You seem to misunderstand many things about this place,"&nbsp; She began, starting off by informing the clueless woman of her mistakes, so that she could correct them.&nbsp; "Nevertheless, I will help you.&nbsp; In order to do so, however, I will require more information.&nbsp; Why are you here?&nbsp; What, specifically, are you seeking, or hoping to accomplish?"<br><br>From her earlier words, the clueless woman had apparently been seeking an experience at one of the Sensoriums.&nbsp; This was consistent with her earlier behavior, as she had first come to the Modron's attention when she was leaving a Sensorium.&nbsp; However, the construct did not understand what this had to do with changing fate, or why a 'Judge of the Dead' would be interested in the experiences of the living.&nbsp; She did not even know what a 'Judge of the Dead' was to begin with.<br><br>Perhaps it had something to do with the faction commonly called 'the Dustmen', and their task of collecting and interring corpses...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>13-04-2013, 04:30:09</strong>
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				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/20/Annalimug2.jpg)<br><em>Factotum Annali Webspinner </em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Factotum Annali Webspinner<br><strong>Location:</strong> Elloweth Theater, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br>The single applause of Factotum Webspinner was lonesome among all the empty seats, but it was given more heartily this time. The bariaur's hoof gave a stamp when the applause stopped; rumor was that this tell was like the swish of a cat's tail, but told with equal confidence was that the bariaur stamp was like a bull preparing to charge. "That one has pizzazz," she said. "I like it. Keep in the jump scare, people respond to being scared. They'll remember it, and they'll tell their friends, and they'll come back. That's the kind of thing we need."<br><br>There was more movement of her pen across the time sheet than normally punctuated a performance. "I want you to come by my office tomorrow, so we can schedule a meet with the panel." She was speaking to Fei, specifically, though her eyes did flit to Aella for just a moment. "Is she alright? You seem distressed, dear." Cut the fat, that was what Annali was known for. As she was peering at Aella through her tipped-back spectacles, she was gauging whether the glorified prop would really benefit the performance, whether she were a weak link that needed replacing, whether she could be trained. "It's an accessible story, a love story. It's alternative; raciness is good. It has emotion and boasts a new experience of being afforded a peek into the den of a medusa. A medusa queen, was it? I'm not familiar with that one." She was writing as she spoke, reminding herself on paper of why she had liked the performance. There were many more to see before the auditions were done.<br><br>Annali trotted up to the stage and placed a little slip of paper at the apron of the stage, where Fei would need to kneel down to take it. Drawn with an artist's care was a map from the Reception Hall to the Sensate Sensorium, showing exactly where Annali's office lay. There was an unmistakable glint in the Factotum's eye as she looked up at the changeling. "My office doors open about this time every morning, unless we're doing auditions. Slide a note under my door if I'm out. Try to remind me of who you are- none of this <em>it's me </em>nonsense." She aimed a frown at the applicants still waiting for their shot: an earthy creature studded with bioluminescence, clockwork knights in elaborate armor, a wild-looking dwarf with a wagon of caged animals, a bariaur jingling with a portable lab of stoppered phials, and dozens more. "I lose count of all the messages I receive that begin with <em>it's me. </em>Do you know how I sort them?" A pause, while nobody ventured a guess. "Straight into the refuse."<br><br>The Factotum waved for Fei and her lover to vacate the stage as she took her place out in the empty audience and grabbed a complimentary pastry. "Who's next?"</td></tr></tbody></table><hr><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/4d/FaithfulServantLi.jpg)<br><em>Faithful Servant Li </em><br><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/59/Dustman.jpg)<br><em>Dustman </em></td><td><strong>A Most Urgent Matter</strong><br><strong>Location:</strong> Reception Hall, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><em>"G</em></span></span>ood day, and welcome to the Civic Festhall," sang the honeyed voice of Cuatha Da'nanin, at her perch on the reclaimed throne where she sipped her morning tea. "What have you come to experience?"<br>The short and heavy man before her was out of breath and mopping his brow with a corner of cloth. "I am looking for someone," he announced. "It is imperative that I find her."<br>"Ah, yes, I see." Cuatha could not be rushed. She had a natural flow that went uninterrupted as she gingerly lifted a leatherbound book from beside the throne and opened it beside her teacup. She turned the pages as though she were preserving an heirloom for future generations of clerk. "The Civic Festhall houses many offices, but we keep a record of them here. Do you have an appointment with the party you wish to reach?"<br>"No, it's nothing like that. She isn't a, ah, <em>one of you," </em>the man replied. "She is about five feet high, with long black hair, and dressed in fine silks. Have you seen her?"<br>"Many pass through these doors. I do not remember such a person- my apologies."<br>Flustered, the heavy man continued forward, gesturing with his hands. "This is important. I am Faithful Servant Li, proxy to Yen-Wang-Yeh. This woman, she is a petitioner who escaped to your city."<br><br>Cuatha's smiling eyes came up to meet those of Li. She slipped away the book, and finished the last of her tea, and slipped an elaborate sword scabbard around her hips. The seal of the Sensates decorated the hilt of the elven blade, and around the pommel was engraved an Elvish promise to her betrothed, Factol Darkflame. "Then let us find her quickly," the half-elf said. The throne went unattended as she strode into the Festhall, leaving the pudgy proxy to jog after the strides of her long legs.<br>A gloomy, bedraggled woman stepped out of the queue as Li and Cuatha moved away with purpose. With shoulders hunched under a frayed cloak still wet from the rain, she began to follow a safe distance behind the heavy man. The Festhall was not a common destination for the Dustmen, who sought the True Death that could only come from the suppression of emotion, the waning of desire, and the void of sensuality that was antithesis to the Society of Sensation. She was not here for the Sensoriums. A wickedly curved sacrificial dagger hung at her plain brown robe as she moved a little bit faster, into the wake of the proxy and the Factol's lover, keeping pace with them.</td></tr></tbody></table>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>13-04-2013, 11:02:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Near the Reception Hall, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> A Most Urgent Matter<br><br>It was a curse, sometimes, having good hearing. So much of Perrin wanted to turn on her coils again at the very mention of the so-called great entropy of the planes. Now <em>there</em> was an opening if ever she had heard one, just her size and begging to have her sink her fangs into. Then again, you had to be careful about who you talked philosophy to in Sigil. Some people's arguments were more… pointed than others, and for some reason Perrin seemed to bring out that quality in people more than most did. <br><br>Folly indeed. Well, discretion and valour and all that. All the more so when it came to shady looking characters on business that was uncomfortably close to things she herself had been involved in in the past. And anyhow, how often was she handed an excuse to meddle in someone else's business? <br><br>Back in the reception hall. It probably wouldn't be <em>too</em> hard to find Harmony, she suspected. The Modron blended in about as well as Perrin herself did, and even if she wasn't present in the Festhall itself this day someone would have an idea of where she had headed off to. Hopefully. <br><br>When she had spotted a face she recognised and asked, however, she had received nothing more than an "I think I saw her back towards the sensoriums?" <br><br>"Oh yes, thank you ever so much for your help," she snipped back at the pixie. <br><br>She received an affronted look for her trouble. "You're the one who apparently can't find a Modron off Mechanus. If you need your hand held that much she probably has a schedule filed with Cuatha."<br><br>Perrin opened her mouth to retort then closed it again, wrinkling her nose. Why did the world just keep begging her to get bogged down this morning? "Oh, go sneeze on your own dust, bite size. I do not have time for you."<br><br>The tip of her tail vibrated in irritation as she slid up the hall, back towards the first wing of sensoria. What was it with today? Death of a thousand cuts as everything vied for her attention. Of course, she wasn't the only one. A <em>different</em> demanding presence had taken up Cuatha's attention in Perrin's absence — at this rate the Society was going to be doomed to poor risk management for the rest of eternity — and one important enough that she actually abandoned her seat, at least for a little while, instead of finding someone to foist the man off onto. <br><br>Or maybe she was just bored. Either way it was hard to resist the opportunity to corner her before she was sucked back into her role as shepherd for the throng that infested the reception. She hesitated just long enough to nearly let Cuatha disappear from sight before making up her mind, then undulated after the pair. <br><br>Just in time to pass a bundle of rags abandoning its spot and follow along behind the retreating elf. Someone with the same idea as Peregrine? Well, perhaps it was that her mind was on stalkers what with Harmony and all, or elsewise that it was in fact an <em>armed</em> bundle of rags, but either way she found herself accelerating to a healthy clip. A moment later and she had drawn up parallel, changing her gait to take up only a third of the corridor to avoid tossing either of the bipeds into the wall as she kept pace. <br><br>She never had managed to kick all of her finishing, not when dealing with people who could make her stay with the Society uncomfortable at any rate. "Lady Cuatha! A moment of your time?" Her politeness did not extend, however, to actually waiting for a response. "I simply must at the very least schedule a time to talk to you about <em>risk</em>. I have been considering the figures — " One hand went down to half produce her abacus and clicked a few beads for emphasis. " — and I have some absolutely fascinating ideas on how to prevent fatalities and other failed field expeditions from being an excessive drain on our balance sheet." A pause. "Also, that scraggly thing is following you. The one with the knife." <br><br>Another pause as the pixie's words came back to her. Well, they had been sarcastic but why the hell not? Even a rogue Modron might not shed all their habits. "And, just a thought, but by any chance has Harmony — our new Modron if you recall — filed a schedule with you?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>13-04-2013, 13:37:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Open<br><br>The clueless one reacted shyly to having the necklace re-fastened around her throat. The silk of her veil pulled back by Harmony's reaching fingers, and a long strand of black hair spilled out. One disorder led to another. With eyes downcast, she went quickly to her knees, her cloth shoes making not a sound. "My life, it seems, has been short and uneventful," she lamented. "I lived as a fruit harvester, never wed nor traveled. I did the same things every day, until such time as I was called before the Judge of the Dead."<br><br>"There my deeds were read aloud, and my fate is to go to a terrible place, a house of dust, where everything is the same forever. But, Your Holiness, I am <em>not </em>that boring person. Those deeds were done by a woman who had no choice. I am certain of this." She prostrated herself at the modron's feet, and her stray lock of hair tickled across exposed toes. "If only I could experience more, the Judge of the Dead could see my deeds in a new light. I need to try new things. I need to do something <em>wild." </em>A tentative smile was forming as she rose again to her knees to see how Harmony reacted. "I- I have heard that you give new experiences here. I beg you, help me to prove the truth I know is in my heart."<br><br>The woman was both taut and trembling, infused with a feeling of liberation that was yet fragile and stacked on Harmony's whim. She was still glancing up the hall, around the curve of the modron's naked hip, and afraid for what pursuit was still to come. "I don't have much time," she admitted. "They will come for me, and I will be powerless to resist when they do. Please."</td></tr></tbody></table><hr><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/e8/Cuathadananin.jpg)<em>Cuatha Da'nanin</em><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/4d/FaithfulServantLi.jpg)<br><em>Faithful Servant Li </em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Cuatha Da'nanin, Faithful Servant Li<br><strong>Location:</strong> Reception Hall, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Open<br><br>"Perrin," Cuatha remembered easily, though she did not stop, even with the red-faced proxy unable to close the gap between them. The mellow half-elf did not get <em>bored </em>so much as she got <em>fascinated- </em>fascinated with people and their stories, and with the goings on in all corners of the Festhall grounds, popping up in any unexpected place and at any hour like the Sensates' own personal Lady of Pain. "We must speak while we move. This man has lost a diminutive and dark-haired petitioner. We must ensure she does not reach the center of the Festhall," she said without elaborating nor brooking request for elaboration.<br><br>The effortlessly athletic half-elf spared a glance backward to catch a hint of the pursuer Peregrine had mentioned. "I think it is not following <em>me, </em>calculating one. I am an easy woman to find, most hours of the day. Nor, I think, is it following <em>you, </em> Perrin, since your location is readily volunteered by those around you. Faithful Servant Li, I believe this one may be pursuing <em>you." </em><br>"Me?" Li puffed, "But," interrupted by a need to breathe, "why?"<br>"How many before me have heard this tale of a lost petitioner, Faithful Servant Li?"<br>"Um, everyone," he gasped, "I could," finally reaching his peak and starting to catch up with a groan of complaint, "find. Where lies the error?"<br>"Word travels quickly through Sigil," Cuatha answered, "when the information is valuable."<br><br>Branching halls spun by in a way that brought the circular maze of the Festhall into sharp focus. "This is fun," Cuatha said to Peregrine and Li in a way that made fun seem quaint. "I am afraid I do not have a schedule for your Harmony, but, is a modron not a creature of manifest law? My love, the Lady Darkflame, will have a spell to help you pinpoint her." The half-elf made a rare show of raising her voice to call the guard from the corridors they passed. <em>"Patrols to the Factol's hall,"</em> she urged, <em>"Eject visitors and Namers from the area until relieved. Perrin is the only exception."</em><br><br>Without slowing down- in fact, gaining a little in speed- she tugged the Factor's emblem from her breast and flipped it on a twirling trajectory for Peregrine's hands as a deputy's badge. "Go with them," she suggested. "There will be time to hear your proposal later."</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kunoichi</strong> on <strong>14-04-2013, 02:50:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Harmony<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance, Open<br><br>As the clueless woman spoke, a number of things about her that Harmony had found puzzling were suddenly made clear.&nbsp; The world that she hailed from on the Prime Material Plane appeared to have some very strange customs, especially those centered around this 'Judge of the Dead' figure.&nbsp; Still, the Modron could understand and even empathize with this woman, having lived a very similar life of monotony and constant toil until her own liberation.&nbsp; More than that, as a Sensate, the very idea of being doomed to live forever in a place where everything was the same, where there would never be any new experiences, was repellent to her.&nbsp; It seemed that deciding to help this woman had been the correct choice to make, then, as she was certain that her duties as a Sensate required her to help this woman avoid such a terrible fate.<br><br>It seemed that she was still being mistaken for a deity as well, however.&nbsp; That was an error that it would be best to correct as soon as possible, so the Modron wasted no time in holding out a hand to the kneeling woman before her.<br><br>"I am not a holy figure,"&nbsp; She stated, calmly.&nbsp; In an attempt to help the woman feel more at ease, the construct attempted a smile.&nbsp; "You are not required to bow to me.&nbsp; My name is Harmony, and like you, I am someone who is here seeking new experiences."<br><br>Assuming the woman took her hand in order to stand up, the Modron would not let it go once she was standing.<br><br>"Since you have little time, come with me."&nbsp; She would explain, attempting to lead the woman off into the hall they had both come from.&nbsp; "I have a Sensorium reserved for the next three hours and forty-nine minutes.&nbsp; If you will allow me to share in the experiences you choose, I see no problem in allowing you to make use of it."<br><br>Admittedly, if she did not have much time before her pursuers caught up to her, the woman would probably not be able to make use of the facilities for that long, but hopefully she would at least have the time to gain the new experiences she needed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>15-04-2013, 01:00:22</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> Public Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> It Begins with a Body, Open<br><br>Alzeggra's interrogation was interrupted by a passing patrol of guards.&nbsp; "All Namers and visitors are to leave the premises immediately until further notice," one of the guards said to the group.<br><br>"Upon whose authority?" Rachel asked.<br><br>"By the authority of a senior Factol.&nbsp; Please follow us out of the building."<br><br>Rachel gritted her teeth as she traveled alongside the group, clearly unhappy to be so suddenly interrupted.&nbsp; Alzeggra blew a sigh of relief, something which did not go unnoticed by Talren.&nbsp; Even it was just the diversion she needed, this interruption would only make Rachel more suspicious of her and the Sensates as a whole.<br><br>"You alright?" Talren asked.<br><br>"Yeah I am.&nbsp; I've been through worse."<br><br>It certainly didn't feel that way.&nbsp; Maybe it was due to Rachel's focus on her, or her placement at the murder, but the onlookers shot brief glances at the dark elf every so often as they passed through the luxurious hallways.&nbsp; The guards were too focused on the group as a whole to devote special attention to any one, but the accusatory glances of the bystander sunk into her like poisoned blades.&nbsp; Alzeggra could only imagine what dreadful thoughts they had about her, doubtless made all the worse due to the public reputation of drow in many corners.&nbsp; This made her hate Rachel all the more, for making the perception of others who tolerated her before turn dark and ugly.<br><br>Eventually they came to a larger group headed by a naga with a deputy's badge.&nbsp; Alzeggra recognized Peregrine from before, although they weren't exactly acquaintances; at the very most, they might have exchanged glances a few times in the public Sensoriums before going about their ways.<br><br>"Good morning," Alzeggra said noncommittally.&nbsp; It felt like an odd statement, especially so soon after a murder.<br><br>The sight of a designated figure in authority seemed to ignite something in Rachel, and her pace picked up remarkably quickly in that plate armor of hers to get even with the naga's upper body.<br><br>"I take it you're the Society's head of security?" she asked.&nbsp; "What do we know so far about the attack?&nbsp; Are there plans for a joint investigation?&nbsp; I ask not only as a member of the Harmonium, but to ensure the security of all Sigil, no matter their allegiance."<br><br>It was probable that the murder was the reason for their escort, but Alzeggra had a hunch that there was more to it than that.&nbsp; "Talren, I need you to look into a man named Heiron Lifegiver."&nbsp; She did in a low whisper.<br><br>"Why?"<br><br>"Research purposes.&nbsp; Trust me on this one."<br><br>She overheard Rachel mention her name at one point.&nbsp; And with that, she interposed herself as close as she could to Peregrine and Rachel which would not get her blocked off by guards.&nbsp; "I don't mean to <em>interrupt</em>," she said with emphasis to spite Rachel, "but I'll need to relay my side of the story when you've finished your conversation."<br><br>"Piss off, drow."<br><br>Alzeggra normally did not act this way; normally she was much more reserved, especially when on a mission, but Rachel seemed to bring out a darker side of her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>15-04-2013, 08:26:44</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Instinct took over as the shiny fragment arced through the air towards her, and Perrin plucked it out of the air with a motion that would have been a lunge if it involved more than just her arm. Only after it was in her hand did she actually manage to stop for a moment and stare at it. Well then. Someone willingly and without hesitation handing her authority that she didn't absolutely need to have? Today was certainly going to make for a story for a family dinner. <em>And</em> it sounded like she was going to sooner or later get a chance to corner Cuatha, something most people usually did there very best to avoid. At least, most Sensates did after the first time. Then again, she couldn't remember ever doing so to Cuatha, so perhaps that was it.<br><br>Oh, now if only she had thought to wear one of her hats — maybe the broad brimmed one that just <em>screamed</em> dashing and authority — the day would have quickly gone from infuriating to perfect. Sadly no time to get it now. She threw off a hastily sketched salute towards the already retreating Cuatha. "By all means, skipper, my coils are yours." <br><br>She peeled off from Cuatha and the panting Li, collecting a handful of the suddenly much more visible guards as she went. Then she stopped and stared as she realised who exactly she had picked up. "Bite size? <em>You're</em> a guard here?" <br><br>The pixie — Perrin reached for her name. Ivy? That sounded right. — bristled. "I'm an excellent guard!" she snapped. "I read minds, dazzle and ensnare people, move unseen, and — " She patted the diminutive crossbow that rested at her hip. " — my arrows put you to sleep." <br><br>Perrin quirked one eyebrow upwards. "And I bet the way no one suspects lets you get the drop on every intruder we might have." <br><br>Ivy glared for a moment, but soon enough just sighed, bobbing where she floated in the air. "I wish I could deny that." <br><br>"Oh, then it's a very good thing that you value being good at your job, and are able to ensure your pride doesn't get in the way of using every advantage that might present itself, isn't it?" Perrin waved a hand placatingly. "Now, do we actually have any regular procedure for securing an area?" <br><br>There was a moment of awkward silence as Ivy glanced between the rest of the half dozen odd people Perrin had picked up. Perrin wasn't sure whether it was because Ivy was the most senior one there, or just that the others weren't willing to speak up, but she eventually volunteered, "I could… go look it up? Not so that's been drilled."<br><br>Well, Perrin supposed that made sense. The Festfall wasn't known for being all closed to the public most of the time. On the other hand, with the very well-meaning Cuatha having just roused everyone in magically boosted hearing distance, and then word travelling from there… Oh dear.<br><br>"All right then, here's what we'll do. There are, what, six entrances into the inner areas that are actually open to public traffic about now?" She glanced to Ivy who gave it a moment's thought then nodded. "We'll round up enough more to set two at each of those to keep people from getting in, then sweep from each of the five radial ones to the main entrance with patrols to clear everyone out. Once we can report it secure we'll just squeeze tight till someone gives the all clear to go back to normal." <br><br>It was Ivy's turn to arch an eyebrow in a deliberate mimicry of Perrin's gesture. "Squeeze tight?" <br><br>Perrin frowned. "Hang tight? Whatever it is bipeds do to stay in one spot." Ivy declined to press the matter farther, instead giving a confirming nod, echoed by the rest of the band. "Wonderful. Ivy, you're quick and traffic can't get in your way. You start finding the rest of the guards in the area and see if we can't nip off the confusion before it gets out of hand. The rest of you follow me and we'll place the checkpoints."<br><br>After she had got her little group moving it actually went smoother than she had expected. It didn't take long for Ivy to report back in that she had updated everyone in the Factol's Hall — it fortunately was a fairly restricted part of the overall Festhall — and setting up checkpoints mainly consisted of just dropping off someone at every door and having them look official. There were already patrols started to clear even before the checkpoints were all in place as well, so that was just a matter of getting them to stop sweeping places the others had already covered and missing some areas entirely. Most of that just required working Ivy's wings to death flitting back and forth working out sections. <br><br>By the time it began working without Perrin directing every moment she was feeling fairly smug. Of course, it helped that it was rather a limited area, small enough that their aerial guard could manage to cover the distance and ensure decent communication. The entirety of the Festhall would have been a <em>nightmare</em> to—<br><br>"Ah, Legate van Slithers?" <br><br>Perrin jerked her head around at the address, a title she had appropriated for herself to make her sound like she had business ordering people around. "Yes?"<br><br>The young man shifted in place under her gaze. "The last patrol just reported in. Should we push the checkpoints farther out now?"<br><br>Push out the checkpoints? Perrin frowned. "Why would we— oh." She hesitated for a moment. "Guard, ah, Sanjar, yes?" There was a nod. "Tell me, are we clearing more than just the Factol's Hall?" <br><br>Sanjar frowned. "I was told we were to just expel all the Namers and visitors?" <br><br>Oh dear. <br><br>"No, Sanjar, and I can't imagine you were the only one to hear wrong, and — <em>potverdorie!</em> — Ivy only checked the Hall itself…" Perring puffed out her cheeks for a moment as she considered this new problem, because of course her little microcosm of order and good communication couldn't have been anything more than a fluke. And she should have realised it, too. Oh well, no use crying over dropped eggs. "Sanjar, fetch Ivy and a few others. We're going to head out and see what we can make of the chaos." <br><br>Outside her neat little world, well, the best thing Perrin could say about it was that at least their guards took their jobs seriously. She also thanked every god that might be listening that Cuatha had handed her a deputy's badge. They couldn't do a sweep through the entire Festhall the way they did for the Factol's Hall to inform everyone, but at least this way she could herself move through the busier areas and get the worst of the snarl sorted out. It helped that sorting it out didn't require much more than an "Oi, guys, cut that out!" or she really would have been in for a headache. <br><br>Oh, and there was yet another group being escorted outwards. She recognised a couple of the people — one of the guards did errands for her, and the dark skinned elf was nearly as noticeable as she herself was — but the one that actually accosted her, much to her surprise and before she could undulate up to them in turn, she could only recognise thanks to the insignia. <br><br><br>"I take it you're the Society's head of security?" The woman was armoured and armed, and looking decidedly like a peeved authority figure who had been stymied and stone-walled. Was this some sort of divine joke? Go looking for Harmony, find a disgruntled representative of the Harmonium? "What do we know so far about the attack? Are there plans for a joint investigation? I ask not only as a member of the Harmonium, but to ensure the security of all Sigil, no matter their allegiance."<br><br>Then before anything else could go on, the drow — the one with too many consonants… Alegrazza? Alzeggra. — slipped in between them. <br><br>"I don't mean to <em>interrupt</em>, but I think I should relay my side of the story when you've finished your conversation." Apparently the officer of the law was not the only one to have a temper this morning.<br><br>"Piss off, drow."<br><br>Perrin blinked at the two of them, wondering what in the world they were on about. They… thought this was all about them? And what attack for that matter? The whole point of the security was that it hadn't happened yet. Nothing for it. She used their tiff to give a meaningful glance over at Ivy, thinking very loudly indeed, then gave the two in front of her her best smile. The one that showed off her fangs. "I am Legate Peregrine van Slithers, duly appointed representative of the Lady Factor Cuatha Da'nanin. Allow me to assure you, Custos Harmoni, that we are doing our utmost to evaluate the situation and take appropriate steps to ensure the security and prosperity of all of Sigil, and proceed in a manner fitting with our history of cooperation with the agents of the Harmonium. Of course, you must understand that with a situation as serious as the one at hand, we do not wish to make any rash conclusions—" <br><br>Ivy interrupted her stalling, flitting up to whisper. "There's been a murder. Recently somewhere around here, but details are scarce without intruding enough to be noticeable." <br><br>Well then. She could fake with that. Perhaps they'd even be able to spin this together and make the Festhall not like a disorganised mess, but as a place taking reasonable and moderate precautions. Or at least a little less embarrassingly confused. She hesitated for a moment, glancing down to the… suspect? No, the woman had been dismissive of Alzeggra, not outright hostile. <br><br>"I will, of course, be happy to brief you on what we do know, just so soon as I make my own enquiries enough. Ivy, if you could ensure that the esteemed officer is well taken care of?" Ivy looked like she wanted to do anything but that, but reigned in her tongue and she inserted herself before the woman had a chance to protest, allowing Perrin to pull Alzeggra aside. <br><br>"Now," she said, her voice low and her body flattening to let their faces rest at the same height. "What in the world is she on about? Who's dead?" <br><br>The day really had been one that refused to let her focus.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>15-04-2013, 19:57:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> Public Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> It Begins with a Body, Open<br><br>"Wait, you don't-"<br><br>Alzeggra caught herself just in time.&nbsp; "Sorry.&nbsp; A visitor died in one of the Sensorium chambers while perusing a recording stone.&nbsp; Nilasa, a worker from the Mechanus gate-town.&nbsp; There's no marks on her body, but I think it's murder."<br><br>Alzeggra looked over her shoulder.&nbsp; "While the Harmonium investigator was questioning witnesses, I noticed three cloaked figures pass by.&nbsp; They looked out of place, and I couldn't just follow them without incurring suspicion on my part.&nbsp; It's really just a hunch, but they seemed to be keeping their distance from the crowd and departed quickly."&nbsp; The dark elf mentally conjured up the scene for a moment before continuing.&nbsp; "One of them was a gith, bald except for a topknot.&nbsp; Githzerai, possibly."<br><br>"I'd also exercise caution when using divination spells in the chamber.&nbsp; She died from a mental attack."<br><br>It wouldn't be long before Peregrine or another Factol noticed the disappearance of the recording stone.&nbsp; It weighed on her mind too much that it was becoming a liability, and would look worse on her part if she kept it.<br><br>"I have the recording stone," Alzeggra whispered.&nbsp; "I noticed the Harmonium approaching, and I didn't want her to claim it.&nbsp; I apologize, but I don't trust this particular one."<br><br>This was a little white lie.&nbsp; Alzeggra picked it up long before she heard Rachel, but it did cast her in a better light.&nbsp; If anything it made her appear more paranoid than actively malicious, and she did genuinely want to find Nilasa's killer.&nbsp; She gave a slight tap to one of her pockets, subtly indicating its presence there.<br><br><em>A safer gamble in the long run,</em> Alzeggra thought.&nbsp; <em>Hopefully she doesn't arrest me for that.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>16-04-2013, 05:03:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/Fei-favorite_avi.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fei<br><strong>Location:</strong> Elloweth Theater, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Factotum Webspinner, Harmony<br><hr><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Fei bowed deeply to the Factotum, her skin once again rippling to take human form.&nbsp; “Thank you Factotum Webspinner.” She said retaining the bow until she hears the curious concern in the Factotum’s voice.&nbsp; Fei stands and glances at Aella who, bless her kind heart, was trembling with stage fright even after the performance was over.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Just a little stage fright.&nbsp; This is her first real performance.” She answered knowing Aella was stricken to the point of unintelligible squeaks.&nbsp; Given the right circumstances those squeaks were quite nice, but now was not one of them..&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“It is Iosican.” She offered but kept her offerings to a minimum as it was clear the Factotum was very busy and it would not due to offend her with unnecessary blathering.&nbsp; She nodded her understanding and when dismissed, she gathered her gossamer robe and Aella and exited the stage.&nbsp; &nbsp;Off stage she paused for a time to make sure that Aella was actually going to be okay.&nbsp; It took a couple of minutes of quite talking until her wide eyes grew less wide and the excitement of finally completing an audition set in.&nbsp; By that time Fei had retrieved Aella’s robe and was tying the soft cotton sash.&nbsp; She worked slowly and deliberately, her voice soft and calming.&nbsp; The sash drew in around Aella’s slender waist hugging it snuggly. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; “I did it.&nbsp; I really did it.” Aella’s said in disbelief.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; “Yes you did dear one.”&nbsp; Fei nodded, a soft smile on her lips.&nbsp; Dear one was a term of affection that Fei’s people, the Lei-Shu, used often.&nbsp; It was reserved for those one knows intimately, but were not bound too.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Thank you.&nbsp; I know it isn’t much, but I could not have done that without you.” Aella’s eyes brimmed with tears and pulled Fei into her embrace.&nbsp; The Iosican beauty gave a light laugh as she let go of Fei who was taking the manic display in stride.&nbsp; “I mean, I know I didn’t really do anything, but…” <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“I could not have done the scene without you.” Fei gently cut her off. “It is because of you I know the tale of Pharessica and Talia and there is not another in Sigil so beautiful to be chosen for Talia.”&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The bright smile was reward enough for Fei.&nbsp; It pleased her, another satisfying and underrated sensation.&nbsp; “And now that you know you can.&nbsp; Nothing can keep you from the stage.” Some may have thought it cruel of Fei to engender such hope in Aella.&nbsp; She was destined for little work in low theaters, but she loved it&nbsp; It was in her blood even if the talent was not.&nbsp; It would be crueler to take even that away.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“We should celebrate!”&nbsp; Aella’s face beamed with the idea. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Yes, we should, but I have a Sensorum reserved and I must go.”<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Full pouty lips met Fei’s protests. “Are you sure I cannot convince you otherwise?”&nbsp; Long dexterous fingers reached out to play with the edge where Fei’s silken robe met the soft mound of Fei’s breasts.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; “I am sure that you could, dear one, but I ask that you do not. Go find Efari and Uneste and perhaps I can join you later.”&nbsp; The twin Gensei would be more than happy to celebrate Aella’s success.&nbsp; So much so that Fei truly hoped she could join them later.&nbsp; To many of the Sensate, Fei was the worst of their kind.&nbsp; She was a hedonist and often wallowed in debauchery.&nbsp; She was the stereotype than many in the Sensate thought gave them a bad name.&nbsp; It wasn’t simple charnel lust that drove Fei however.&nbsp; It was her Shen, or more accurately, lack thereof.&nbsp; The Lei-Shu believed that to be Lei-Shu one must maintain a balance.&nbsp; This balance, Shen, is how the Lei-Shu survived in Limbo or so it was said.&nbsp; Fei had been confined to a single form and forced to abide by the Law of the Githzerai monks. This repressive stagnation swung her Shen dangerously out of balance and once released and brought to the Society of Sensation, Fei knew her prayers to Lah-Pho, The Ever Changing had finally been answered.&nbsp; The reward for her torment would be a hundred years of form, pleasure and sensation and her Shen would return and she would be Lei-Shu once more.&nbsp; So she let the waters of derision slide from her shoulders and pool forgotten at her feet.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/47/Dark_hair_japanese.jpg)</div> Aella acquiesced and Fei gave her a peck on the cheek before seeing her off and making her way towards the sensoriums.&nbsp; Imagine her surprise to find a young woman prostrating herself before a Modron.&nbsp; A naked Modron, with features more human than she had ever seen since coming to Sigil. Fei stopped at the doorway and listened to the conversation.&nbsp; It was very obvious that the young woman was one of the clueless, just as Fei had been not that long ago.&nbsp; As the two women turned towards the sensoriums they would notice Fei watching them.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“My apologies for eavesdropping.” She said placing her hands together in front of her chest and bowing towards them, dark flesh of her areolae peaking from the billowing silk.&nbsp; The young woman’s plight had touched her.&nbsp; The sights of Sigil could be confusing and frightening to the clueless.&nbsp; “I too was about to use the sensorium and I am curious.&nbsp; What sensation do you wish to experience?&nbsp; What experiences do you wish try?”&nbsp; She remembered the question being asked of her and knew that it often revealed much about a person.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>16-04-2013, 08:41:06</strong>
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				Name: Peregrine<br>Location: Near the Sensoria, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br>Time: Mid-morning<br>Tagged: Alzeggra<br><br><br><br>That explained why the investigator was making a fuss, and probably why she thought all this was about her. Perhaps it should have been. Perrin had to admit she found herself decidedly curious about these latest revelations. A murdered person from the Mechanus gate town, and nearby passes what sounded very much like the group she had spotted probably talking about Harmony. That didn't sound at all very coincidental to her. <br><br>"Well, good work picking up the stone. If at all possible we will be handling this investigation behind closed doors. No need to involve the Harmonium unless absolutely necessary." Ooh, setting Faction policy was fun. Perhaps she should spend more of her time aiming for promotion and start politicking. Then she might even be able to make it stick. <br><br>And the rest was useful as well. Perrin let out a breath. Now she just had to fit it all together. Definitely they were going to have to find those becloaked figures, and unravel this murder, and she had to wonder if this issue with Li was going to end up tied in as well. It was turning out to be that sort of day, after all. At this rate she was never going to get back to her figures. On the other hand, at least this was interesting. Also potentially dangerous to herself, which was all the more reason to be on top of things. <br><br>"Oh, how fun," she rumbled to herself, idly twirling her ponytail around one finger. She didn't know Alzeggra by much more than reputation, but she had never heard anything poor about the elf, and she needed <em>someone</em> who knew what was going on here. "Well, if you're already involved in this, the ejection order is an overzealous and confused response to a possible assassination attempt on a guest. It was only supposed to be the Factol's Hall but… things got a little out of hand." She sighed. <br><br>"On the face of it it seems unrelated, although today's been awfully coincidental, and the group you saw have been seen acting suspicious elsewhere with sensory records relating to Mechanus." Harmony would stay anonymous for the moment, at least until she could interrogate the Modron herself, as none of this sat right. "We'll probably want to track down someone with extensive experience with the stones," she mused out loud. "I'm certainly not going to be the one to poke my nose into one that may or may not be fatal to use, and I wonder if it's too late to catch Nilasa's ghost before she scarpers." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>18-04-2013, 02:14:53</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> Public Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> It Begins with a Body, Open<br><br>A thought immediately popped into Alzeggra's head.&nbsp; "I have the right spell for that!" she exclaimed.&nbsp; "And I'm sure that the latent danger is within the stone I have, so I should be fine in casting it.&nbsp; If you don't mind, can you accompany me back to the murder scene?&nbsp; You can vouch for me in case any guard tries to escort me off the premises."<br><br>After hearing no claims to the contrary, she traveled back with the Naga in tow to the Sensorium Chamber.&nbsp; The normally bright and bustling Festhall had an eerie sense of silence now that the public was gone.&nbsp; The bright and colorful decorations felt wrong and out of place without the exchange of chatter and merriment characteristic of the faction headquarters.<br><br>"It won't be long before the whole of Sigil is talking about the Sensorium's sudden lockdown," Alzeggra said.&nbsp; "Are you going to tell the public the truth, or are we going with a cover story?"<br><br>Five guards stood around the body, which now had a white sheet draped over it.&nbsp; The bag remained untouched as well.<br><br>"Good morning, officers," Alzeggra said.&nbsp; "I believe that it should be safe to use divination magic on the body.&nbsp; I wish to communicate with the deceased woman and find out what she knows."<br><br>They let the two women through after seeing the deputy's badge on Perrin.&nbsp; "Be careful," one of them said.&nbsp; "We don't know the cause of death, or what happened to the recording stone.&nbsp; Might have been destroyed upon impact."<br><br>Slowly, carefully, Alzeggra pulled back the sheet.&nbsp; With more time to examine the body, Alzeggra could peruse Nilassa's face appeared serene, emotionless even, despite the scream from earlier.&nbsp; Certain spells were fully capable of scaring someone to death, but the idea that a person's face was etched into fright upon death was an old wives' tale.<br><br>The first order was to brandish her holy symbol.&nbsp; <em>Fharlanghn, show me the way across this troubled road.&nbsp; Show me the magic which binds us all.</em>&nbsp; Her silent prayer was answered with knowledge, as Alzeggra detected the presence of illusion and necromancy emanating from the recording stone within her pocket, and an aura of equal strength lingering upon the body.<br><br>"Death magic was used upon her," she said.&nbsp; "With a touch of illusion.&nbsp; Most likely an intensely painful and dangerous stimulation designed to kill.&nbsp; Illusion auras would not be out of place in the Sensoriums, but Necromancy is an oddity."<br><br>Her hand was immediately upon a notebook.&nbsp; Alzeggra was so used to keeping updates on her travels that the cataloging of phenomena was now automatic to her.<br><br>The platinum pieces scattered across the floor remained untouched, possibly more out of concern that whatever malady killed Nilassa might still linger within.&nbsp; "It's quite odd, I think, that a worker with a visa would be so well-off," she said to Perrin.&nbsp; "What do you think about a possible underworld background?&nbsp; No, that's highly implausible for a Mechanus native.&nbsp; Perhaps its a political killing.&nbsp; Only one way to find out."<br><br>Alzeggra laid her hands out over the body.&nbsp; <em>I summon the conscience of the soul named Nilassa.&nbsp; Do you know who killed you?&nbsp; Do you know who might want you dead?&nbsp; These are my questions to you.</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>19-04-2013, 14:35:22</strong>
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				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Fei<br><br>The clueless woman was eternally thankful as she followed Harmony and now Fei with a bobbing bow. She was the sight of a virgin to the Sensoriums, someone whose imagination had run wild and who had not yet felt the stifling of reality or come to know the politics of the faction. It was all new and mysterious, and though she flustered some at the idea that these two women would be sharing her experiences, she found the courage on the walk to Harmony's little chamber. "There are many things I missed out on," she said in a rush, as though she were practicing her argument. "I had never traveled before coming here. I would like to see new places, many new places, to fill my memories if I must linger forever in a house of dust."<br><br>When they came to the small room that would give Golden Morning Radiance both the experience and the hiding place she vibrated for, she was nervous. The chamber, both sterile and intimate when shared by two strangers, echoed with the sound of her open-mouthed breathing. She knelt down in the way she had before, a practiced way that was familiar to her silk-wrapped body, and took cues from Harmony. She placed her olive-toned fingers onto the recorder stone, along with Harmony's cool golden touch like the statue of a goddess, and waited expectantly for Fei's graceful white fingers to join. Then she was to call sensations to mind. It was all up to her.<br><br>"A sense of accomplishment," came her first request. It came to her slowly, suffusing her humble being with immense and glowing pride that made her giggle. Her fear began to abate with that soothing sensation of having done something worthwhile, however artificial, like a syringe to relieve her anxiety. It was palpable in her body over the several minutes she savored it, but she was hungry for more.<br>"Show me my child's smile." This one was more daring, and her fingers fret against Harmony's and Fei's as she experienced it, perhaps grasping at imagined tiny fingers, or simply uncomfortable with what she was seeing. It brought a strong physiological response, one that made her heart ache and elicited a shuddering, single sob when it ended. The smile had been illusory and the child so vague that it could not be described, but the loss was side by side with the real thing.<br><br>The third was never a surprise coming from a virgin to the Sensoriums, though she had her own strange way of phrasing it. "I wish to know if I should ever tire of making love," she announced. But her request had to be refined, as the library of sensation could intrinsically tell nothing about her. "To make love," she said finally. And for many, this was what the Sensoriums were <em>for. </em>A library of experiences with all manner of lover, every gender, species, personality and body type, millions of discreet orgasms or cruel teases to choose from. Her mind skimmed too quickly over the women and flirted with the first few seconds of experience with half a dozen different men, never allowing more than a touch or a kiss. She was dancing around the notion of a lesbian experience, and squirming, and thumbing the fingers on the stone with her.<br><br>"I want to become a Sensate," she announced with sudden confidence. "Not here, but in reality. I want to be a Sensate. I will start at the very lowest and work my way to this. Tell me, what must I do?"</td></tr></tbody></table><hr><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/d0/Prisine.jpg)<br><em>Prisine </em></td><td><strong>Will of the One</strong><br><strong>Location:</strong> Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><em>P</em></span></span>early teeth sank impressions into the tough leather of a bit as a pigmented needle raked across a naked back, inserting ink between skin and bone. The ink outlined a starburst at the shoulderblade, an arch down either side, and dark, thick lines suggesting a great doorway opening to unknown horizons. The woman under the needle was stiff and clutching satin pillows to her breasts, as the smiling face of a glittery-eyed water genasi looked on. "Perfect," the genasi purred. "Welcome to the fold, sister." She placed a light kiss on the stiff upper lip of the other woman, oblivious to the pain on her face.<br><br>Half a dozen bodies were sprawled in the rented hall, many of them naked, glistening and bony from the wracking effects of the drugs in their system, skin too tight, musculature taut and stressed, elated. Key among them had irritated patches of pink or grey skin where they were freshly inked with the forbidden symbol of Aoskar, the defunct god who dared defy the Lady of Pain. "No longer are you merely of the Sign of One, but a part of the Will of the One." Half among them were Signers, and the rest Sensates, enlisted for a senseless and self-destructive party that had gone the whole night through. The genasi, Prisine, had reason to celebrate. And though the Signers had shown up in masks and hoods, only a few fashionable coverings still hid the identities of the shy among them. Prisine was very good at convincing an addle-cove that her way was the right way, and the right hand of the One never wore a mask.<br><br>As she reclined from a scratched and worn and freshly inked Signer, Prisine was looking over at one of the Sensates, an aasimar whose sheer density of tattoos put these mewling pink bodies to shame. "Would you like one?" she offered. Her head tilted to discern an image on the woman's palm, and smiled gently. "I'll bet each one of those tells a story, but none so important as the return of a god. It takes a confidence to wear that symbol. Cutters see that and respond to it." Prisine brought a nearly drained bottle of liquor to her lips, and hidden gills low on her neck flared on reflex as she finished the contents. Through the smoky and lusty haze, bodies were intertwined, covered in sweat and spit and all trembling limbs. A shimmering curtain of coppery hair and a flourish of feathery wing spilled from the pile, while the sucker mouth and worming tendrils of the rutting psurlon worked across flesh, leaving it freckled with popped blood vessels.<br><br>"There's going to be another get-together before the One makes his proclamations at Elloweth Theater. A social thing to bring in some new members. It's going to be here at your Festhall, and I'd like for you ladies to be there. No promises," she said with a preternatural awareness of when the tiefling, Rysse, was looking and when to quirk her brow. "But you keep an open mind and you're not afraid to really live. I like that."</td></tr></tbody></table>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>19-04-2013, 16:05:00</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/fb/Erinmug.jpg)<br><em>Factol Darkflame</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Factol Erin Darkflame Montgomery; the late Nilasa<br><strong>Location:</strong> Public Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Perrin, Alzeggra<br><br>The guards recoiled as the dead woman's blank eyes shot open, and her cold mouth stirred. There was no soul, no emotion left as the victim's body spoke to answer, with the literal and unfeeling words of a tablet carved in stone. "I do not know," she answered to the first question, a once lovely voice gone hollow as though it was made to echo from her still chest. "I do not know," she answered equally unhelpful to the second. Once the answers had been coaxed from her body, she went perfectly still again, though the guards continued to give the corpse space.<br><br>The wary guards snapped to attention at the sound of heels approaching up the Sensorium hall. Factol Darkflame was quite at home in the halls of her own Festhall, and in the luxury draped across her like queen of all Sigil. An open robe of woven shadow insulated against the breezes that blew through the circular chambers, its translucent shade muting the color of a long and diaphonous dress arranged in a kaleidoscope of shapes like stained glass in a Xaositect temple. As she approached, fingers that shimmered with jeweled rings reached out for the Factor's emblem that Perrin had been waving around like a badge of authority. She reclaimed it with a not unkind turn of her hand, never sharing her reasons.<br><br>The emblem clicked against her rings as she examined it, and then the hall which had earlier that morning been bustling with activity- then the few solemn faces that remained around the dead body. "Good work," she said with the cold detachment of one who has watched her parade be trampled and needed to congratulate those who swept up the pieces. Emerald green eyes fixed on the drow's face, and the cool touch of her rings came up under Alzeggra's chin. She breathed deep. There was more to knowing a face than just seeing its features. "We have some controversial guests staying with us at the Festhall. Their safety is paramount." The Factol regarded the body, an accomplished cleric in her own right, but far from any ability to raise the dead. If Nilasa had been slain by necromancy, as Alzeggra inferred, then resurrection might be beyond any but the most powerful magic. There was a flutter of long lashes over her eyes, and she recovered from the sight of the murdered woman.<br><br>"Another dead in the Sensoriums, and another stone missing. It's strange. The recorder stones should revert to paperweight when they leave the Festhall. They oughtn't be worth stealing, unless they would give the killer away." Her hand left the drow, and she beckoned as she turned away. "Come with me, please. This is going to be complicated by the fact that this woman was a visitor. I want you to tell me all that you've discovered. We'll have privacy within my chambers."</td></tr></tbody></table>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MdG</strong> on <strong>20-04-2013, 01:52:28</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Will of the One<br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>There was some aural distortion. That was the first thing in Rysse's mind. The sound of Prisine's voice caressing the walls of the hall, invisible spirals of sound sliding over stone, wood, metal. She blinked for an instant and saw the words made colour - a riotous palette that seemed to echo Ihaana's countless tattoos. Words etched and clear like stories in a picturebook. For a moment, her mind sought to grasp the ineffable conclusion: the union between sound and form. Then the surging, leaden blow of the Gehenna Thistle smoke crackling in violet embers in the dragon-snout pipe in her long, red fingers. <br><br>Rysse suppressed a cough and sat up. Cool air on her bare torso. Sweat kissed her crimson skin. Her heart hammered - a dull monotone in her chest. She peered down and saw the soft curve of her belly, her ash-grey leather breeches tugged down to her hips, strings pulled open and the rich thatch of dark, damp hair. Her memory focused. A copper-skinned fire genasi woman, her strong biceps tattooed like her shaven head - that had been her handiwork. Fucked her, biceps straining - lips, tongue and teeth latched on the tiefling's throat to feel the pulse of lifeblood raging like a meltwater stream.<br><br>Memory was a fickle, odd thing. It could have happened moments ago, or closer to a watch. Time was acting funny. Which meant that that the Gehenna Thistle was working. Rysse brushed back damp tendrils of unkempt hair from her face. Strands of pitch black and arterial red. She shifted a little, cushions and fabrics shifting under her bare feet. <br><br>"Proclamation," she said - repeating rather than speaking, "what's he proclaiming?" That was a good sign - the hallmark of a good party was forgetting why she'd turned up.<br><br>She stumbled over to Prisine and saw sweet narcotic smoke coil like coupling bodies. Crouching by the water genasi's side, Rysse inhaled sharply from her pipe. The embers crackled, spouting indigo-tinged smoke. Holding the smoke in, she drew her fingers over the blue-tinted skin of Prisine's throat and exhaled onto her gills.<br><br>Rysse smiled through the haze and turned to Ihaana. "Are you getting another one then, girl?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meikle</strong> on <strong>20-04-2013, 02:49:44</strong>
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				Will of the One<br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>"Every story is important," that's what Ihaana said.&nbsp; There was more -- she had more ideas, more thoughts on the matter, but she lost them in the haze.&nbsp; They came and they went more quickly than she could seize them.&nbsp; That was the way Ihaana liked it, if she were to be honest.&nbsp; She didn't know exactly where all these people were, what they'd put into themselves to get there, but she appreciated the scene.&nbsp; The setting.&nbsp; A situation worth remembering, maybe.<br><br>She shrugged, though, first one shoulder and rolled into the other.&nbsp; She wasn't any more dressed than any of the others here, and it left her on display like a mad gallery, the work of a hundred artists with a hundred different visions.&nbsp; Some she'd gotten blind, stepped into an artist's workshop and laid herself down, presented her body as canvas and demanded real art.&nbsp; Others were cruder, uglier, the work of aspiring artists or friends with ink and needles and no interest in the work.&nbsp; The bleeding eyes on either of her palms were not the only marks of gods, live or imagined, on her body, but they were the only ones that had real meaning to her.<br><br>Finding space for another tattoo -- that might be difficult.&nbsp; Not a challenge for Ihaana to worry about, though.&nbsp; More thoughts came and went.&nbsp; "If you can make it," she said at last, "then I'll wear it."&nbsp; She glanced down at herself, looking over her own body; she knew each and everyone of them, where and when, but those memories didn't come easy to her right now.&nbsp; Perhaps a new tattoo would swallow up old ones.&nbsp; Wasn't that the idea?&nbsp; The joy was in the needlework, the art, not the permanency.<br><br>Ihaana rose unsteadily from where she'd sat, cross-legged and bare save the iron bits that pierced her body here and there, glinting under lamplight.&nbsp; She stepped closer to the genasi and the tiefling that hovered near, and as she closed, she reached a hand out, beckoning toward Rysse's pipe.&nbsp; "And what have you got here?&nbsp; Share?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kunoichi</strong> on <strong>20-04-2013, 04:37:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Harmony<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance, Fei, Open<br><br>Harmony was surprised, initially, to find that another Sensate had been eavesdropping on her conversation with the clueless woman.&nbsp; Another human woman, one whom she was unfamiliar with, had apparently taken an interest in their conversation, and was now as curious as she was about what experiences the woman would wish to see.&nbsp; Given the philosophy and inherent curiosity present in almost all members of the faction, this should perhaps not have been as surprising to her as it was, but nevertheless it was enough to keep her frozen in place for several seconds, processing everything, while the woman answered the questions put to her on her own initiative.&nbsp; Before long, however, they were traveling once more, this time with their eavesdropper having joined them.<br><br>The Modron had no problems in allowing this third person, Fei, to join them in the chamber she had reserved.&nbsp; It was sized to comfortably fit two people within, and so was somewhat crowded with three, but she did not mind the closer contact with either of the two women.&nbsp; Becoming acquainted with more people would give her greater opportunities to be introduced to new sensations, and would give her access to more differing viewpoints on what those sensations meant, what lessons could be learned from them.&nbsp; This, in turn, would help in her own development, while simultaneously allowing her to help in theirs.&nbsp; It was a mutually-beneficial arrangement, either way.<br><br>Showing the clueless woman how to work the recorder stone was a simple affair, and took less than a minute of their time.&nbsp; Soon enough, the woman was calling up her first choice of sensations, and the Modron quieted her own mind in order to better experience it.&nbsp; A sense of accomplishment was her first choice, a feeling of satisfaction in having finally completed some worthy task.&nbsp; The Modron, familiar with a life of constant toil, of working long hours on a thankless task, with always another task to complete once the current one was finished, felt that she could understand the woman's reasons for selecting such an experience.&nbsp; It was an emotion that she had managed to feel personally, after learning what a major contribution she had made to the Society's archives with her own life experiences, and the striking contrast that feeling had carried compared to her former life had erased any lingering desires she may have once had to return to her former rank in the Modron hierarchy.<br><br>The second experience selected was related to one that the Modron had been planning to experience for herself, earlier that day.&nbsp; Seeing the smile of her child, recognizing it as something born of herself, knowing that it was happy and healthy...&nbsp; She experienced the same sensations that the other two women in the room did, but she lacked the ingrained physiological responses that were often associated with them.&nbsp; As the experience ended, she was smiling softly, and was left feeling somewhat confused at the apparent sadness the clueless woman was displaying.<br><br>She filed it away to ask about later, however, as the woman began on her third choice of experiences shortly afterwards.&nbsp; Sexual pleasure, a subject that Harmony had heard was among the first choices of many who were new to the Sensoriums.&nbsp; She had explored many of the recorded sexual experiences within the archives during her second week within Sigil, but beyond the intense pleasure of the experiences themselves, she had not found much personal benefit in her studies of them.&nbsp; It did not help that many of the experiences she had selected were apparently considered unusual.&nbsp; Few people had been willing to publicly debate with her about the subtle differences between such esoteric topics as, for example, a human woman's recorded sexual experiences with a centaur versus those of an elven woman's experiences with a unicorn.<br><br>More importantly, it seemed that the clueless woman was choosing to experience these recordings only shallowly, stopping after the first kiss or touch with the male partners, and skipping over the lesbian experiences altogether.&nbsp; That was enough to have the Modron frown, slightly displeased at the apparent fear of trying a new experience that the woman was displaying.&nbsp; She understood that intimate contact between members of the same sex was frowned upon on many material worlds, but had she not stated earlier that she wished to experience something 'wild'?&nbsp; If the culture she came from was as strict about such things as her behavior was suggesting, then the experiences she was avoiding were precisely the experiences she was seeking to change her fate.&nbsp; Why, then, was she hesitating to experience them?&nbsp; What was the logic in doing so?<br><br>Before Harmony could make a direct inquiry about this, the woman asked a question of her own, proclaiming her desire to join the Society of Sensation and asking what steps she would have to take in order to gain membership.&nbsp; This was a more complex question than the woman realized, and the Modron spent a few seconds formulating an answer before she realized that her own experiences could help her here.&nbsp; She had once asked the same question herself, and so needed only to paraphrase the answer she had been given.<br><br>"Membership within the Society of Sensation is open to any being who is willing to follow the tenets of our philosophy,"&nbsp; The Modron began, looking over at the woman.&nbsp; "If you are unaware of our philosophy, it is quite simple to grasp.&nbsp; Since we use our senses to learn about the world around us, the only way to truly know something is to experience it for yourself.&nbsp; Following from there, if something cannot be sensed, it does not exist.&nbsp; Also following from there, the most worthy pursuit in life is to seek out new experiences, to enrich yourself by learning and experiencing as much as you can.&nbsp; There are many who are unwilling to follow these tenets, however, who seek only to experience the same pleasant and pleasurable sensations without any variation.&nbsp; In order to sort these hedonists out from those who truly wish to learn, there is a test that must be passed for any prospective member.&nbsp; You must contribute five new experiences to the archives, one focused on each of the five senses, or one single experience that contains new sensations for all five senses.&nbsp; Your contributions will be judged by a senior member of our Faction, and if they are found worthy, then you will be granted membership."<br><br>And, with the information given, the Modron waited to see the clueless woman's reaction.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MdG</strong> on <strong>20-04-2013, 14:21:47</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Will of the One<br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>She felt Ihaana's presence before she saw the aasimar. A familiar scent - iron, sweat, desire. The sweat she had licked, the slickness she had tasted many times before. Then the clear, almost melodic ring of Ihaana's voice, rising between the sighs and breaths and rustling of fabrics. Rysse's lip curled, playful and knowing. She took a long drag from the silvery pipe and the metallic dragon's eyes flickered deep purple. A hit of bitter, tarry heat. Rysse held her breath in and then exhaled. A tail of vapour flickered from her black-painted lips.&nbsp; <br><br>"Here, angel," she said with her usual wisp of irony and handed Ihaana the pipe, "Gehenna Thistle - they grow it in amphorae inscribed with broken promises and feed it warm tears." <br><br>Rysse sat crouching, her touch lazily trailing the skin of Ihaana's thighs, tracing each tattoo, following the swerve and path of the ink on golden skin. The script and pictures seemed to flow, flaring to life and dancing madly - a Pandemonium of endless revelry feeding itself. Rysse swallowed and felt her throat dry. She licked her lips and raising a half-empty flask of Baatorian firewater, drank. <br><br>It was harsh - tasting of pitch and razors. She felt a rush of heat flood her. That mingled with the delicious tension in her belly and the tight, swampy wetness of her swollen sex still half-sheated in tight leather. Her nipples felt almost uncomfortably stiff - fat and porphyry-dark on her heavy breasts - the left pierced with a silver cold iron ring. Githyanki make. For an instant she remembered when she had it done - a silver needle and no opiate, just a leather tether on which to bite down. The evoked memory sent a tingle of desire down her spine. Curling her pointed tail to caress Ihaana's ankle, she leaned forward and planted a wet kiss on the smooth, inked flesh of the aasimar's bottom, nipping slightly with her teeth until she could see redness under the fluid tapestry of tattoos. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>21-04-2013, 05:42:27</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Public Sensoria, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Factol Darkflame, Alzeggra<br><br>Peregrine had hung back just a little as she followed along in Alzeggra's wake. It was a chore travelling next to anything that walked, all straight lines and linear thinking, and this way she got to loom over the elf as well. It had no effect on the elf in question, walking away as she was, but it looked suitably authoritative, she thought, and it didn't really get in the way much of conversation. And the extra height let her check around them until she was confident there was no one around to eavesdrop, and even then she spoke low enough that only elven ears could really pick it up. She hoped.<br><br>"If our dear friend with the Harmonium has anything to say about it the best I expect is to do damage control more than a proper cover up. I suspect this isn't important enough to dispose of her over, especially when that could easily backfire, so I imagine it's mostly going to be trying to soften it before we cause enough scandal to depress revenue." <br><br>There was a souring thought and she wrinkled her nose as she imagined the amount of red ink that could get spilled if this turned into something serious enough to stain the Society's reputation, even for a little while. "If we can keep what's her name spinning in circles for long enough we can make the word on the street ours, and perhaps keep this other business private entirely."<br><br>She peeled off, letting Alzeggra brush past the guards as the arrived at the corpse, stilling her tongue now that they had company again. She almost wished they hadn't arrived —&nbsp;as souring as the conversation was, it was still a sight more cheerful than the investigation went. She made a mental note next time to yank Alzeggra aside and have a long preparatory conversation before any questions were asked. Dead people were notoriously stupid, after all. <br><br>Not that she had a chance just then to bring it up, as none other than Factol Darkflame herself clicked her way in, dripping assurance and gliding along in a dress that Perrin thought was fetchingly reminiscent of a sheath of scales, what with the patterning and colouration. That was certainly one of the benefits of her new home —&nbsp;there was never a shortage of pretty things to look at. Even if she did her best to be subtle about it, and politely lowered her torso down a bit, despite that apparently meaning being relieved of her authority. <br><br>Oh well, it couldn't last. And now she could blame any further confusion as to what the hell was going on with the eviction of people from the premisses on whomever succeeded her. At least the Factol didn't seem all that upset. Yet.<br><br>She bobbed her head and set her coils into motion again with an "Of course, Lady Factol" taking up pace aside Alzeggra this time. <br><br>There was only so long she could go without resisting needling, and she gave in fairly quickly. "Soooo… outthought by the dead, huh?" She flicked the tip of her tail, casting a thin smile over to Alzeggra. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>21-04-2013, 09:11:06</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Alzeggra nodded in agreement with Perrin's suggestions.&nbsp; "If anything, I'm more concerned about the Harmonium's interference in the case," she said.&nbsp; "They're too unimaginative and orthodox to see all the angles."<br><br>Factol Darkflame's sudden presence felt out of place in the now dark room; the faint light of the chamber magnified into a riot of colors through her garb, bathing the floor and the body in shades, blue, green, yellow, and a myriad subtle shades thereof.&nbsp; It was a strange sort of beauty, one which can be found amid the unlikeliest and least appropriate situations: not too many others could pull such a feat off without appearing jarring or callous.<br><br>"Good work," she said to Alzeggra and Peregrine.&nbsp; Her rings felt cool to the touch as her fingers gently braced Alzeggra's chin, and the drow could not help but blush as their eyes met briefly.<br><br>"Uuumm, thank you," Alzeggra said, her face turning away slightly.&nbsp; "Unfortunately, my spells were unable to find out much except the magic used in the murder.&nbsp; Nilassa, the victim, was in the dark as to the killer's identity."&nbsp; Darkflame's hand was still upon her, but she didn't brush it off; it felt soothing, reassuring, and took her mind away from the matter at hand, if only briefly.<br><br>"We have some controversial guests staying with us at the Festhall.&nbsp; Their safety is paramount."<br><br>Alzeggra's thoughts wandered as to who she could mean.&nbsp; <em>The figures in cloaks?&nbsp; No, they were in a hurry to leave.&nbsp; I do recall hearing about a wild bacchanal yesterday between the Signers and Sensates.&nbsp; I would assume that they cleared out by now.</em>&nbsp; She decided to refrain from asking until later, as it was clear she was presently focusing upon Nilassa.&nbsp; She could detect a loss of composure in her eyes, if only for a second, as they fluttered at the dead woman.<br><br>It was enough to make her sad as well.&nbsp; Alzeggra had lived and died many times in the realm of Ysgard, each snuff of life an important lesson of failure.&nbsp; The experiences made her relatively jaded to the sensation of death, enough that the only fear which remained was but of her everlasting soul.&nbsp; But many did not have such a privilege.&nbsp; In another plane, another life, she could have met the same fate as Nilassa, her spirit now a petitioner in a distant realm, her memories soon to be gone like so many of the others.<br><br>She let out a sorrowful sigh as she contemplated this eventual finality.&nbsp; Darkflame's hand departed from her face, and Alzeggra regretted not savoring it for a little while longer.&nbsp; <em>There can be time for that later,</em> she thought.&nbsp; <em>If later ever comes.</em>&nbsp; It was now time to follow Darkflame back to discuss the dreadful events again and again.<br><br><br>"Soooo… outthought by the dead, huh?"<br><br>Alzeggra looked over to Perrin.&nbsp; It was obvious that the naga was trying to get under her skin, but she was not so prideful to take it personally.&nbsp; In retrospect, she should have given more thought to her two questions.<br><br>"I figured I'd start with the basics," she replied.&nbsp; "But that didn't work out well.&nbsp; Tomorrow I'll have another casting ready, and hopefully we'll make more progress."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>21-04-2013, 09:22:10</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/Fei-favorite_avi.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fei<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Golden Morning Radiance, Open<br><hr><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Pleased to be allowed to join them Fei bowed once more to listen to what the clueless one wished to experience.&nbsp; She gave her a kind smile.&nbsp; Yes, the young woman’s mind flittered like a baby bird testing its wings but yet unable to fly. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“I am Fei.” She said in greeting.&nbsp; “My thanks for allowing me to assist you.” She looked from the silk clad lovely to the golden woman holding her hand.&nbsp; She had never seen a Modron that looked quite like Harmony.&nbsp; Her form so human-like with metal and flesh seamlessly formed into such pleasing shape. Gold and brass accentuated her hips and spine, but her beasts and flattened belly looked so very soft and slick.&nbsp; Her nudity did not seem to bother the clueless one nor did it concern Fei.&nbsp; The Modron was an elegant creature and beauty was created to be seen and enjoyed was it not?<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; Fei knelt next to Golden Morning Radiance and placed her pale delicate fingers onto the stone where they laced themselves into the warm touch of the silk clad woman’s fingers as well as the cool metal of Harmony’s golden digits.&nbsp; She sat quietly while the Modron woman explained how the recorder stone worked and let her mind empty so that she could experience the sensations in their purest form, without preconceptions or bias.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; Golden Morning Radiance surprised her with her first request.&nbsp; A sense of accomplishment.&nbsp; Had she not accomplished much by finding her way here?&nbsp; The sense of pride that welled forth from the stone reminded her of her own accomplishments of the morning and it brought a smile to her face, yet the thought remained.&nbsp; Had the girl not already known accomplishment?<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp;Ahh, yes.&nbsp; Motherhood.&nbsp; Fei herself had wondered what it would be like.&nbsp; She had experienced childbirth many times over in the sensoriums and did not wish to bear children now.&nbsp; Her duties to the Sensate would be hard on a child and she was not so callous as to have one and give it away just to experience the sensation of loss and depression that she was certain would follow. Like many memories in the Sensorium they often elicited an unexpected response from the viewer.&nbsp; She let one of Golden Morning Radiance’s fingers wrap around her own and gently pressed against it as she released a sob.&nbsp; A single tear rolled down Fei’s own cheek as the child’s smile faded away from their minds. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; Fei smiled to herself when she heard Golden Morning Radiance’s last request.&nbsp; The clueless one was a virgin in more than one sense it seemed.&nbsp; However she only dipped a toe into the pool of experiences that were available to her.&nbsp; Like a child testing the water and finding it too cold to jump in, not trusting that they will warm to the experience.&nbsp; She teases the others with but a simple kiss or touch never truly experiencing anything but a fleeting and unfulfilled twinge of lust or passion or need.&nbsp; Fei felt the fingers gentle caress against hers and Harmony’s.&nbsp; She allowed her own finger tips to travel along the olive skin of Golden Morning Radiance’s hand where they wove together with Harmony’s welcoming the unspoken and forbidden thoughts the girl might be having.&nbsp; She too was aware of other cultures taboos though her own had very little when it came to sexual preferences. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Golden Morning Radiance’s sudden conversion to the Sensate wasn’t entirely unexpected and it brought a bright smile to her face.&nbsp; &nbsp;Fei understood the draw of the recorder stone and it’s library of sensations.&nbsp; Many had made the same pledge of allegiance after their first experience in a sensorium.&nbsp; Unlike Harmony she was not nearly so concerned about the girl’s seeming reluctances.&nbsp; Everyone was a namer at one time and many were drawn to the idea of pleasurable experiences, those like Fei soon learned to expand upon them.&nbsp; She was sure that Golden Morning Radiance would be able to do the same.&nbsp; Then again Fei was blindingly optimistic at times.&nbsp; The changeling let the golden Modron state the requirements for admittance, they could seem quite intimidating, but in reality they were quite simple.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“And first it would be nice to know your name.” Fei added once Harmony had finished.&nbsp; “If you truly wish to become a member of the Sensate, I do happen to know where we can find a Factotum.&nbsp; Tell me though Young One, do you simply wish to while away the hours in the sensoriums or do you wish to experience these things yourself?”<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>21-04-2013, 10:14:19</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Public Sensoria, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Factol Darkflame, Alzeggra<br><br>Another tail flick at the decidedly measured response. Perrin glanced forward, tilting her head back and forth for a moment as she weighed how likely it was that an exchange might arouse the Factol's displeasure. Certainly it would be heard, but would she really care? <br><br>In the end there wasn't really a question of which would win out. Perrin had never in her life so far really stopped to reign her tongue in, and she wasn't about to start now. Of course, she was also still a Namer after an odd two decades, but that was as much laziness as anything else, she was sure. And anyone that blasé was just <em>asking</em> for escalation, right? <br><br>"Persistence is clearly the answer," she responded in a quiet, but entirely too cheerful tone of voice. "I mean, you had the same question twice to begin with and by god if that ghost was looking like it was beginning to wear down. Two more tries and I'm <em>certain</em> it'll give you the answer you want." <br><br>Perrin let her coils slide sideways during her next undulation, the smooth and surprisingly warm scales running up against Alzeggra's calf in what was Perrin's version of an elbow to the ribs. She flashed one of her friendliest fang-smiles. "You'll just have to be careful. With such genius maneuvering it looked like it was about to start crying in the corner you had boxed it into."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>23-04-2013, 04:31:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Fei<br><br>As reactions to Harmony's stipulations went, the retreat of the woman's hand from the recorder stone and miserable expression on her face did not inspire confidence. "I do not understand. I must surrender experiences in order to gain experiences? I have none to give. That is why I came here." She looked from one woman to the other, but avoided Fei's gaze at the last moment. Yes, she had thought to while away the hours in the Sensoriums, and perhaps she was one of those hedonists to be weeded out. The clueless woman was flustered, not just from the puerile near-sexual experiences still fresh in her mind, not just from being sandwiched between two women with a single loosely tied cloth between them, though that was certainly a part of it.<br><br>"My name is Golden Morning Radiance," she said, with equal weight to the whole title, not even entertaining the possibility of shortening it to a syllable or three. "I am not sure if I remember pieces of my life, or if I only imagined it based on a description I heard. The one thing I truly remember is awakening before the Judge of the Dead and having my deeds read to me. If I had a worthwhile experience to offer, I would gladly- or if I had a guide, I would fetch these things the Sensate gods crave." Her eyes were pleading, and her fingers clung to the hem of Fei's silk. "Will you instruct me on finding sensations within this city?"<br><br>There were voices out in the halls. "...looking for a visitor who may have come this way," came the familiar dulcet of Cuatha Da'nanin. "Five feet high, with straight black hair. She may be dressed in fine silks." She could be heard interviewing Sensates in passing, asking the same questions, providing the same description that bore a certain likeness to Golden Morning Radiance- but then again, it was at least halfway accurate for Fei as well. The door to the shared body heat of Harmony's Sensorium was closed, and so the Factor did not disturb its occupants. With a lockdown in place, she wouldn't need to. It would be a simple matter of tightening the vise, unless the quarry were very crafty. Golden Morning Radiance was anything but.<br><br>On a flight of panic, the olive-skinned woman pressed her lips to Harmony's mouth. Maybe it was to silence the law-abiding modron, but she was too timid about it, her hands behind her back and her soft mouth ticklish from the touch. She learned, not from the sensations the recorder stone had already given her, but from Harmony. Her silk-wrapped head tipped to put her mouth vertical across Harmony's, and a shy tongue etched lightly along the slot to lay claim to the modron's mouth from one corner to the other. Her hand went across the recorder stone again, not to activate it, but to tangle with Fei's fingers and Harmony's. It took real fear, fear that thudded in her chest, to exhibit any of the wildness she sought to nurture. "I need more time," she whispered.</td></tr></tbody></table><hr><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/d0/Prisine.jpg)<br><em>Prisine </em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Prisine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>"Proclaiming the future," Prisine answered to Rysse. The tiefling's fingers at her throat and the hot smoke of the drug against her gills soothed her, though both were implements of destruction. "What the One dreams will come to pass. You know all about the power of thought, don't you? Of course you do- you're a clever woman." There was no longing when Rysse moved to nibble the next body that caught her eye. Prisine was the calm eye of the storm that surrounded this upstart sect of Signers, the rocks against which crashing waves broke. "You exist because you imagine your world. Maybe when you're drugged out of your mind, you've got someone else doing it for you. Point is, the whole multiverse is thought up by something."<br><br>The tattooist's needle was cleaned to an oily shine, and Prisine was surveying its next conquest. The glittering jewels of her eyes marveled at the landscape of Ihaana's markings, and the light touch of her fingers followed the roam of her gaze so that she wouldn't lose track. "Most of us have our limits, especially non-Signers. I might think up a little pocket of Sigil, and maybe you and your angel, when you forget. <em>You're welcome." </em>A sprawl of her fingers across Ihaana's skin told that she'd scoped out a place for the brand of Aoskar, a conversation starter to be sure if only one could find it amidst the aasimar's crowded ink. "But the One, he has no limits. Don't listen to them when they tell you he's barmy."<br><br>The needle made a tinny clink on the palette as Prisine framed the canvas for the tattooist on Ihaana's flesh. The firm pressure of the water genasi's fingers was a gentleness all around the white-hot sting of the needle's first touch, again close to the bone- the pain was a part of the incentive to remember Aoskar, and steal the forgotten god from the clutches of oblivion. "I've seen into his mind. It's...thought so dense it collapsed in on itself. A pinpoint of light that stretches off to infinity and opens into some vastness we can't comprehend." Her voice followed the perforating stroke of the needle, as though she were narrating its journey. But much like her relationship-apparent to the One, Prisine was only a bystander, interpreting.<br><br>The guest quarters sprawled across half a dozen large chambers. Even as this one filled with smoke and sweating bodies, Prisine pressed against her Sensate companions to stand and sashay into the open bath. A conduit to a plane of eternal water cascaded like a crashing, senses-drowning waterfall, and the genasi stepped into the flow. In seconds she would be cleansed, devoid of the marks so many of her sisters and brothers had taken, keenly sober, ready to face the new day. "Sods are going to come to Elloweth for a vulgar show," she said as the water swept her hair down to her knees and brought out the shimmer of miniscule scales amidst her skin. "We're going to give them the very center of the multiverse."</td></tr></tbody></table>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kunoichi</strong> on <strong>23-04-2013, 06:57:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Harmony<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance, Fei, Open<br><br>An immediate hypothesis leapt to Harmony's mind, as the clueless woman responded to the explanation she was given and the questions put to her.&nbsp; This woman, Golden Morning Radiance, as she had introduced herself...&nbsp; Could she be a petitioner?&nbsp; The answer seemed so obvious, now that the thought had occurred to her.&nbsp; She had repeatedly spoken of her life in the past tense, and this 'Judge of the Dead' had a title which very aptly described its job.&nbsp; From what little the Modron knew of petitioners, all the facts fit perfectly.&nbsp; The woman's motivations were suddenly much clearer, as well.&nbsp; She felt that the gods she had worshipped in life were now sorting her soul incorrectly in death, and wished to correct the error.&nbsp; Since she had her own strong feelings on the chaos that improper sorting could cause, the Modron felt that she could sympathize.<br><br>The voices from out in the hall clarified a few other things, however.&nbsp; Harmony recognized the voice of Factor Cuatha Da'nanin, and recognized from the description she overheard that there was a high probability the Factor was searching for one of the two women in the room with her.&nbsp; It was possible that she wished to speak with Fei about some urgent business related to their faction, but Golden Morning Radiance had already stated that she was being pursued, and that it was likely that her pursuers would catch up to her quickly, making her the more likely candidate for the Factor's search.&nbsp; Either way, this changed things.&nbsp; Before, she had been engaged in a harmless exercise in gaining new experiences, while at the same time helping a troubled young woman gain the experiences she would need to better her own life.&nbsp; Now, unless she acted immediately, she would be actively hiding an individual whom a high-ranking Sensate wished to see, in violation of the Society's rules on such matters.&nbsp; Rules she had sworn to follow when she was inducted into the Society of Sensation.&nbsp; This was unacceptable.&nbsp; Acting immediately, the Modron opened her mouth and-<br><br>A pair of soft, warm lips was pressed against hers, her vision obscured by olive skin and colorful, perfumed silk.&nbsp; Needless to say, the Modron was taken completely by surprise, and unable to properly react as fingers intertwined with her own and the source of the voices out in the hallway moved further and further away.&nbsp; She could only take it all in, the feel of the petitioner's tongue against her own, loose strands of hair and silken fabric teasing against her skin, the scent of incense, the realization that her own heart rate had increased to match the rapid pace of the other woman's...&nbsp; As part of her explorations into the many recorded experiences of sexual encounters within the archives, the Modron had experienced the sensation of being kissed dozens, perhaps hundreds of times, but this was the first time she had actually experienced the act first-hand.&nbsp; She knew what emotions were typically associated with the act, and her mind was a confused jumble of thoughts as she attempted to decipher which of those emotions had led the petitioner to initiate the act with her.<br><br>Even after Golden Morning Radiance pulled away, Harmony was still left unmoving for a few seconds, eyes still widened in surprise, mouth slightly parted, the golden-yellow skin of her face flushed a deeper amber color while her heart continued its rapid beat within her chest.&nbsp; Eventually, however, she settled back upon her original course of action, and pulled her hand away from the stone, turning towards the door and turning her back on the two women sharing the sensorium with her.&nbsp; <br><br>"I am sorry,"&nbsp; She responded, attempting to bring her heartbeat back under control.&nbsp; The heat that had spread over her face was beginning to fade, as well.&nbsp; "But if Factor Da'nanin is looking for you, it must be an important matter.&nbsp; The Civic Festhall's regulations require me to take you to her immediately.&nbsp; Please cooperate and come with me."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>23-04-2013, 20:55:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/fb/Erinmug.jpg)<br><em>Factol Darkflame</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Factol Erin Darkflame Montgomery<br><strong>Location:</strong> Erin Montgomery's Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Perrin, Alzeggra<br><br>The Factol consulted the emblem in her hand as she walked, her heels a crisp echo in the desolate halls. "Tomorrow will be much too late, I'm afraid. The body will leave our Festhall, and then it will be a matter of dealing with the Harmonium and the Dustmen. But don't be discouraged- we have enough to carry out our own investigation." Cuatha's emblem was tucked away into the shadowy sleeve of her robe with a small smile, still visible in the translucency of the enchanted fabric. "It seems Lady Da'nanin has taken a shining to you. By your leave, I'd like to hire you on for this special task. You will be my five senses in pursuing this killer. Would you like that?"<br><br>Through the guarded checkpoints she moved with Perrin and Alzeggra, bringing an effortless authority and renewed energy to those who served to protect the Festhall from its foes. "Regardless of your decision, I want you to indulge me. Come inside." A pair of narrow and towering doors, joined in the center by a long face of animate and sentient wood, marked the chambers of the Factol and her consort. At thirty-three years of age, Factol Darkflame was young for a Factol, young even compared to many who came to fill the halls and the pocketbooks of the Society of Sensation. She was one of the wealthiest women in Sigil, outshone by only select planar traders, and this was her abode.<br><br>A seam of light split the wooden sentry down the center, and the doors of the Factol's quarters opened. The Sanctum Sanctorum, the heart of the Festhall, lay beyond. It was a place of mystery. As she stepped into the first earthy chamber, Factol Darkflame slipped from her heels and continued barefoot across a carpet of living, dancing grasses. Flowers from a nearly forgotten world, with petals of corkscrew and noodle shapes fading from cyan to moonlight to coral in color, crowded around the base of a mother tree sculpted to the dimensions of the earthen walls or vice versa. Living motes of color bathed the chamber in light and imbued it with a palpable vitality, a swell of every living organ to perfect health. The Factol took a seat at the base of the sweet-scented tree and laid Cuatha's emblem there on a toughened root.<br><br>"Each time a body is discovered, the victim's recorder stone goes missing. At first, I suspected they were destroyed by whatever killed these Sensates. Now, it seems this is not the case. Some of those same stones have turned up at a shop here in Sigil. It is a place to start, surely. But tell me- what else do you have to go on?" The Factol's piercing green eyes put hooks into the Namers sharing the shade of her own private tree, and refused to let go. Some said that Erin Darkflame Montgomery was psionic; her opponents in the Hall of Speakers rumored at having their minds compromised, their innermost thoughts violated. Maybe it was just the intensity of the Factol's stare that gave rise to paranoia- she was a woman clothed in rumor, and certainly, not all of them could be true.</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>23-04-2013, 23:19:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> Erin Montgomery's Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Perrin, Alzeggra<br><br>"I did what I could," Alzeggra said to Perrin.&nbsp; "By the way, I don't believe that I caught your name.&nbsp; It would be nice to know in the future so I can personalize my future retorts.&nbsp; And don't try to give me a false answer, I will find out the truth eventually."<br><br>Darkflame's information did not sit well with her.&nbsp; Future access to the body would be securely guarded in the Dustmen's Mortuary, and their relationship with the Sensates was strained at best.&nbsp; But having more leeway in the pursuit of Nilassa's murderer was always welcome, even if the Society didn't have as much legal clout as the more lawful factions.&nbsp; "I'd be more than happy to assist you," Alzeggra said.<br><br>The dancing grass felt nice on Alzeggra's bare feet; where she expected a tickle she received soft, soothing sensations.&nbsp; The inner chambers of the Sanctum Sensorium were beautiful in their own way, although Alzeggra perceived its wonders differently than others.&nbsp; To the untrained eye, the pastoral landscape would be a seamless portrait to the unbound wonders of nature.&nbsp; But to a planar traveler who had ventured far, from the alpine glades of Arcadia to the abyssal beauty of Shendilavri's forests, it looked more like a patchwork quilt taking the best traits of every little layer from the Great Wheel to make a greater whole.&nbsp; Alzeggra smiled as she spotted the arch of living coral rising and writhing from the nearby pond.&nbsp; Some time ago she acquired such a specimen while traversing the River Oceanus, and it was heartening to know that her gifts were appreciated.<br><br>The ambiance of the room was enough to take Alzeggra's mind off of the business at hand and just bask in the radiance, but her mind was pulled back to full attention by the presence of another.&nbsp; Something foreign.&nbsp; Darkflame's question of the recording stones immediately brought to mind the one she had in her pocket, the trapped replica.&nbsp; She told the naga of it, but not her.&nbsp; Alzeggra produced the stone, if only to end the inquisitive stare.<br><br>"I believe that the recording stone theft was part of setting up a trap," she said.&nbsp; "I found this lying on the ground near the body, possessed of the same lingering magic which brought an end to her life."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>24-04-2013, 07:00:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/Fei-favorite_avi.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fei<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Golden Morning Radiance, Open<br><hr><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Of course you do.&nbsp; As you say, you stood before the Judge of the Dead and had your life measured.&nbsp; This is a sensation few have recorded.” Fei replied with a sympathetic smile.&nbsp; She too had been judged once.&nbsp; “Did you or do you wish to experience them yourself but are afraid?” Fei asked and turned completely to face Golden Morning Radiance, the movement brushing silks against one another.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; “That is a truly beautiful name.” She complimented, her fingers lifting the olive-skinned ones chin to gaze into her eyes.&nbsp; Golden Morning Radiance was as beautiful as her name.&nbsp; She had slim almond shaped eyes and sharp yet delicate features.&nbsp; Fei’s finger brushed against her cheek feeling the tremble of fear and desperation and waning arousal from the fading sensations.&nbsp; Fei herself felt the pull of those sensations.&nbsp; Her body was warm and the press of silken cloth and naked flesh would not let the exhilaration fade so easily.&nbsp; Fei could see Golden Morning Radiance’s quickened breath in the rise and fall of her breasts against her silken death shroud and Fei body edged ever so slightly forward as if drawn to be closer.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; Fei was nodding her head without thought.&nbsp; “I will guide you, though I wish not to do this alone.” She said taking away her pale fingers from Golden Morning Radiance’s chin and placing them over the ones grasping at the hem of her silken robe, where she held them.&nbsp; &nbsp;It would only take one well-placed tug to the shear drape to fall free of her body.&nbsp; Not that she would care at the moment.&nbsp; Fei was about to say more when she heard the voices outside and paused to listen.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <em>‘Curious.’</em><br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“If I may ma…oh,” Fei stifled a giggle at the sudden and unexpected kiss she was witness to.&nbsp; She quieted quickly, though unabashedly watched Golden Morning Radiance explore her first kiss however small with the golden one.&nbsp; It may have been tentative and clumsy, but most first kisses were.&nbsp; However, it would be filled with wide open possibilities and new horizons.&nbsp; It was frightening and exhilarating and desperate, but it was shy and exploring and even sweet.&nbsp; Fei drank it in like a fine wine.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; Questing fingers tangled with the hands still resting on the stone.&nbsp; Fei caressed them lightly, stroking them as if to say, it pleases me, I am here, I am willing. These caresses were not for Golden Morning Radiance alone as her fingers played against both olive and gold. The moment was as fleeting as a dream upon awakening, but the look of surprise one Harmony’s exquisitely crafted features bought about another epiphany.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <em> ‘A virgin sensate?&nbsp; Oh glorious Lady of Change.&nbsp; What wonders have I stumbled upon?’ </em>&nbsp; She looked from Golden to Olive, both beautiful and arousing.&nbsp; <em>‘Your thousand smiles shine on me.&nbsp; I promise I will do what I can to guide them.'</em><br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; “Then time you shall have.” Fei said quietly as Harmony slipped her hand from them and turned towards the door.&nbsp; Fei looked up confused for a moment as the Modron paused, her armored backside towards them.&nbsp; She knew little about the Modron, but she knew about the plane she had come from.&nbsp; Everything had an order, a job and these were followed without exception and without question.&nbsp; If Harmony’s superior requested something she would instinctually do it, as she was doing now.&nbsp; The Factor was her superior and she was doing as she had always done and yet she was here.&nbsp; She was apart from her collective.&nbsp; It showed free will and free thought.&nbsp; Fei did not know why Golden Morning Radiance feared her pursuers, but she very much did, she was seeking a release from her natural order, a path of her own.&nbsp; Surely the Modron could understand that.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; Fei, still holding the olive hand reached out to gently touch the golden arm of Harmony, connecting the three once again through touch.&nbsp; She could feel the warm skin that had replaced unfeeling metal and the toned muscle of her bicep.&nbsp; The Modron was strong and firm under her smooth flesh.&nbsp; Fei’s pale thumb traced alone golden skin.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; “Tell me Modron.&nbsp; Do you always follow regulations?”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kunoichi</strong> on <strong>24-04-2013, 07:53:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Harmony<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance, Fei, Open<br><br><em>"Tell me Modron.&nbsp; Do you always follow regulations?"</em>&nbsp; Harmony felt it as Fei chose to make physical contact with her to punctuate her question.&nbsp; She briefly contemplated the meaning of the gesture, wondered if perhaps the woman was holding her arm as a prelude to attempting to restrain her...&nbsp; But no, her hold was too gentle, her grip not firm enough to be threatening.&nbsp; What meaning did it have, then?<br><br>"Yes."<br><br>The question itself was a strange one, though it was not the first time it had been asked of her.&nbsp; Rules and regulations existed for a reason.&nbsp; They provided order when faced with a lack of direct orders, prevented confusion, even when clarity was not forthcoming.&nbsp; The idea of not following them without explicit orders to disregard them never even entered her mind as an option.<br><br>Still, having the question brought up now did bring to mind the last time someone had asked it of her.&nbsp; She had given the same answer then, and it had been followed up by a number of even stranger questions.&nbsp; Would she follow the regulations, or follow orders given to her, if they required her to destroy those Modrons under her command?&nbsp; Yes.&nbsp; Would she follow them if they required her to destroy her superiors?&nbsp; Yes.&nbsp; Would she follow them if they required her to destroy herself?&nbsp; Yes.&nbsp; Then, did she have no instinct for self-preservation?&nbsp; No, that was incorrect.&nbsp; Being destroyed would render her unable to continue her duties.&nbsp; She desired to continue functioning.<br><br>Then, if she desired to continue functioning, why would she be willing to follow regulations, to follow orders given to her, if they required her to destroy herself?&nbsp; The inherent paradox had left her struggling for an answer for some time.&nbsp; Eventually, unable to conceive of one, she had instead, for the first time in her entire existence, asked a question of her own.<br><br>"Do you have a convincing reason to disobey them?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>24-04-2013, 13:11:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Erin Montgomery's Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra, Factol Darkflame<br><br><br>Perrin pursed her lips for a moment, giving Alzeggra a contemplative look. She had in her time been accused of many things, but this was a first for having her very name doubted to be sure. All the more so when she was fairly certain she <em>had</em> introduced herself, if maybe not to the elf directly. She wrinkled her nose, turning back forward, deciding to fill the time in transit with a proper response. "Peregrine van Slithers. Or if that's not sufficient, given that I am fairly sure it has been said before, I take as my middle names that of my mothers. My right-hand mother is Sabien van Slithers, herself daughter of Aleit van Slithers, who took the surname as a common name in stead of her own expanded Oranje-Hissner-Berg, having married Anna of Berg, daughter of Maria III the Rich of the United Duchies, although the combined house is considered a cadet of the Oranje-Hissners, the crowned republic taking precedence. Aleit's elder sister Annika took the tiara and my second cousin once removed, also named Aleit but the middle names are different, inherited a few years ago as Princess of Oranje. Now my <em>left-hand mother</em>, Prisca van Slithers—" <br><br>Alzeggra was spared further genealogy by their arrival at the Factol's chambers, and Perrin would admit she was happy to let the subject go with the new set of distractions. Grass was not a common thing in Sigil. Or when it was, it typically had spikes, or was enchanted to scream when you walked on it, or drank blood, or something equally unpleasant. That this grass was <em>indoors</em> was probably the least remarkable thing about it, next to how otherwise unremarkable it was. <br><br>It felt nice on her scales, with more give than the stone out in the hall, lubricating and padding her undulations, reminding her that she probably was meant for living in a forest by a river, not a city. At least the bipeds had to contend with merely two feet getting in contact with the filth. It was a little reminiscent of home, if with the obvious and glaring lack of any of her nieces. Still, those were the sacrifices one made to live in a place with a dozen dedicated masseuses. <br><br>She wrapped a strand of hair around one finger, nibbling on the ends of the strands thoughtfully as Alzeggra speculated. It wasn't a terribly big leap in logic, especially if they were missing a certain number that could be… tampered with elsewhere before being reintroduced. She settled herself in a little more before speaking up, winding her coils in on each other, then simply wiggling in place until they settled comfortably. <br><br>"To potentially complicate things, this may be related to another matter. There were a trio of guests at the Festhall today, a gith of some flavour, an elf, and a human, two men, the last a woman, philosophically unsound and careless. I am told Alzeggra observed them by the murder scene acting suspiciously, whereas I have reason to suspect that they have also been investigating our new Modron initiate, Harmony.&nbsp; They were investigating memories of <em>not</em> being a Modron anymore."<br><br>She paused. "At least one of them bore a Doomguard emblem. He was also the one with the facile thinking, although the rest didn't really disagree." <br><br>Another pause. "Hold on, they had an incident with a recorder stone too." She frowned, her brow wrinkling and the tip of her tail vibrating where it stuck out of her wound coils. "Someone dropped theirs, I think, and one of them returned it. I would not assert that it must be related, but it's another coincidence for the nest." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>25-04-2013, 22:44:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/Fei-favorite_avi.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fei<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Golden Morning Radiance, Open<br><hr><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Fei had lots of reasons, but were they good ones?&nbsp; Here own heart called out to the plight of the petitioner.&nbsp; She was lost, in need of help and desperate for the sensations Fei and Harmony could so ready guide her too and give.&nbsp; But would the Modron care?&nbsp; Does she understand sympathy or regret and would they move her? Perhaps, but if Fei was wrong it would take but a call from Harmony to doom the young woman clinging to her Fei’s hand.&nbsp; There had to be something she could say to stall Harmony if only for a time.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Because you have never done so. It is our duty to seek out experiences unknown to us and experience them so others may also experience them.&nbsp; Even in this vast library there may not be so unique an experience as a Modron that disobeyed a regulation.&nbsp; You could be the first to do so.”<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Fei hoped the Modron would see not only the value of her idea, but that she would be disobeying a regulation only to be following the tenet of the Society, to seek out new experiences.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“I would be very grateful if you were to help me guide this one, I am but a namer like you and only have so many experiences to give.” Fei’s thumb continued to stroke the firm muscle of Harmony’s arm.&nbsp; She gently pulled in hopes of turning her captivating form to look at them again, her hand sliding along Harmony’s forearm to eventually lace her pale fingers with Harmony’s golden ones if she lets her.&nbsp; “Perhaps together we can all experience something new?”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kunoichi</strong> on <strong>26-04-2013, 00:38:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Harmony<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance, Fei, Open<br><br><em>"Because you have never done so. It is our duty to seek out experiences unknown to us and experience them so others may also experience them.&nbsp; Even in this vast library there may not be so unique an experience as a Modron that disobeyed a regulation.&nbsp; You could be the first to do so."</em><br><br>Harmony had to admit, the logic in Fei's argument was... compelling.&nbsp; She had never broken the rules before, had never disobeyed an order.&nbsp; The very concept of doing so was alien to her, something she had only even begun to consider because others had brought it up for her in the first place.&nbsp; Logically, then, would not such an alien experience have a great deal to teach her?&nbsp; Could she not learn and grow a great deal by committing an act that was so at odds with her own nature?<br><br><em>"I would be very grateful if you were to help me guide this one, I am but a namer like you and only have so many experiences to give."</em>&nbsp; The Modron didn't resist as she was pulled in closer to the other two women again, allowed herself to be turned around to face them.&nbsp; <em>"Perhaps together we can all experience something new?"</em><br><br>"...Yes."&nbsp; She finally answered, after a few more seconds of silence.&nbsp; Her mouth began to twist into a genuine smile as she spoke.&nbsp; "Yes, I believe we can.&nbsp; That was an excellent reason.&nbsp; Fei, Golden Morning Radiance, you will both have whatever assistance I can give."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meikle</strong> on <strong>26-04-2013, 15:09:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Will of the One<br><strong>Location:</strong> Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>Ihaana drew on Rysse's pipe slow, let the idle ember grow and glow bright before her.&nbsp; The smoke burnt as it made its way into her lungs, but she could hardly expect that a plant grown in tears would go down smooth.&nbsp; She kept an eye on the genasi, Prisine...<br><br>Until Rysse moved to her side, and her eyes slipped down to follow that half-naked sight instead.&nbsp; So many pleasant memories, but none of them caught, just passed through her mind's eye like a cool breeze.&nbsp; Her dark, smoky exhalation matched, hung in the air before being whisked away by air gently blown past the aasimar's lips.&nbsp; She smiled, pleased at her own handiwork, just for a moment before moment.&nbsp; She grinned instead, with a pleasant, distant giggle, when she felt wet lips on her behind, the coiling tail around her ankle.&nbsp; In her mind, she saw herself pulled down, tumbling onto the devilish woman.<br><br>This woman, Prisine, she scribbled new ink into Ihaana's skin, and while she spoke, Ihaana thought, though her thoughts didn't stick, either, and gehenna thistle just seemed to make those memory-stealing winds blow stormy.&nbsp; <em>That should be me</em>, she'd thought once.&nbsp; <em>Is it everyone?</em>&nbsp; Later, <em>How could she create me?&nbsp; Did I forget myself?</em><br><br>Maybe she had.&nbsp; The ink went in so quickly, and then she was somewhere else, somewhere with less smoke and more water but the haze in her mind hadn't cleared, and where was the devil she'd arrived with?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MdG</strong> on <strong>26-04-2013, 16:29:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Will of the One<br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>Rysse's eyes focused on the shear of reflected lamplight on Prisine's needle. A fine, shimmering point that sowed dark ink on Ihaana's skin. <em>It's not inscribing, but revealing something already written there and simply hidden from view</em>. The thought occurred to Rysse in a flash of tremulous inspiration. She chuckled and nipped, this time, hard on the sleek hill of Ihaana's bottom. Rising unsteadily to her feet, she observed Prisine's work, admiring the water genasi's speed and precision whilst always questioning whether the process had, in fact, been quick at all, rather than a temporal distortion birthed by the Gehenna Thistle. <br><br>She scanned the room and saw light, fabrics and bodies merge. A sinuous mass of energy, movement and colour. Rysse could still taste the hard, tarry alcohol on her tongue. It burned. Spicy and raw, like that fire genasi's sex, leaving tiny little pinpricks on her tongue and lips. Prisine's ruminations were familiar enough. Time and the Hive had taught her the various screeds of Sigil's factions. It didn't change the fact they all lived with a hollowness at their centre. Everything could be made to make sense to a poor sod, flowing and adapting to her need until it became the philosophical equivalent of the narcotics she smoked incessantly and the alcohol she drank copiously. Prisine was pretty enough - though she didn't quite have the powerful swimmer's shoulders and thighs Rysse adored in water genasi women - but the Sign of One had yet to give her anything approaching the sublime oblivion of her Gehenna Thistle, or of her Stygian Moss, or her Dispater Blue for that matter.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Only hazily aware that she was being ushered into another chamber, Rysse moved, feeling weightless. Her eyes focused on the new design on Ihaana's skin. It seemed to move again, serpentine and with a mind of its own. It was then that she noticed that the humidity and temperature had changed. There was a gurgling sound - a cascade of water and a fine, damp mist. A mineral scent, too - clean to clear away the miasma of smoke, sweat and sex. <em>What a shame.</em> She finally decided to tug off her breeches, feeling the cool, humid air soothe her sweat-slick thighs. <br><br>Ihaana seemed disorientated. Ryssed edged closer, embracing her from behind, tail coiling playfully around the aasimar's calf. "It looks good on you, angel, this one is a fine artist," she murmured, her tongue flickering and wet on Ihaana's ear, "but this one," her molten gaze hovering on to Prisine, "this one would show us the centre of the Multiverse. A grand claim, no?" Rysse's hands rested on Ihaana's belly, dark red skin streaked with thistle-ash on the paler, celestial tones of the aasimar's abdomen. She kissed the skin of Ihaana's throat, her tongue tracing the carotid - the primal pulse of life itself.<br><br>The glint of the fine scales studding Prisine's scales seemed dazzling - flickering like droplets of water splitting the light into its component colours. Rysse felt hypnotised, caught in a trance of the play of light and water and the rhythm of the beating of Ihaana's heart. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>27-04-2013, 17:47:35</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Fei<br><br>Golden Morning Radiance was completely at the mercy of the arguing Sensates. Her attention moved back and forth between them, Fei and Harmony, called as often by the sound of a voice as by the curl of fingers against her own, adding a physical dimension to the debate over what was to be done with her. The tug of war was more implied than acted out, but it was so very different than the arguments within the halls of the Judge of the Dead. Golden Morning Radiance was glowing, like a prize to be won. She reclaimed her hands in order to tidy up her silks, perhaps to exacerbate the duel of wills.<br><br>There was no visible register of having kissed an almost unresponsive mouth, so caught up in the winds of new experience was Golden Morning Radiance. "I am willing," she said brightly, careful not to interrupt, as though it were her choice. They were speaking about experiencing something new together, and Fei's hands were reaching past her to touch Harmony, hearts were picking up speed and she became aware of her own breathing. Feeling that the two women had decided what to do with her, the almond-eyed clueless woman began to disrobe with a quiet dignity.<br><br>The colorful silk that wrapped her head danced breezily at the tug of her fingertips, and a heavy weight of long, dark hair dropped out of the unseen bowl it had provided. It was much longer than it had seemed, and fell all the way into Fei's lap, straight and black, imbued with an onyx shimmer, curled into exploratory wisps at the very ends with an affectionate cling to each of its sister threads. Her knees sorted against Harmony's body in the crowded Sensorium chamber as she adjusted to run her fingers down the ever plunging neckline of her silk covering, and loosen the jealous cling it held to her rounded shoulders and the tops of her olive-hued breasts.<br><br>She was demure, like a concubine doing her duty, but consulting Harmony's already naked body informed her that this was accepted, perhaps even expected. The weightless silk shrugged loose from her shoulders and pooled into a lotus flower at her hips, leaving the swells of her breasts uncovered, perky, equally anxious for any sensation at all, thrilling or ruinous. It was a petitioner's body, made to match the hills of Arcadia where everything was perfectly ordered and defined. Her every contour and line was graceful and easy to follow, without an inch out of place, except that she had bared it to two strangers on a wild streak of rebellion. Like Harmony before her, she was going rogue.</td></tr></tbody></table><hr><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/fb/Erinmug.jpg)<br><em>Factol Darkflame</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Factol Erin Darkflame Montgomery<br><strong>Location:</strong> Erin Montgomery's Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Perrin, Alzeggra<br><br>There was a swell of feeling as the stone touched Alzeggra's fingers, like the first buildup as a recorder stone made contact with a willing Sensate's mind. The Factol's cupped palm was there to catch it, should it startle from the grasp of a drow who had discovered it on a dead body. Erin seemed to perceive it as well, as she took the stone. She embraced it, closing her fingers around the stone and allowing whatever radiated from it to enter her unshielded. A true Sensate savored the unpleasant along with the pleasant. But as quickly as it had arrived, the impulse from the stone seemed to fade, and the Factol's fingers uncurled from its dark smoothness.<br><br>"An ache," she said. "It's an ache between thumb and palm, like a writing cramp. There's a gleam of tiny metal pieces. That's all. Fragments of an experience." She examined the stone and digested what the newly deputized detectives were telling her. "This is still a recorder stone. It shouldn't retain any magic outside of the Sensoriums. Still, there's something trapped inside. Perhaps some of what you detected before was emitted by the stone itself?" The more she speculated, the clearer it became that this was a lead that Alzeggra and Perrin would need to follow. She passed it back to the drow, but before she did, she wrapped it up in a sash from her robe of shadows, to give it some sense of insulation from touch. The bundle of darkness was a spool of shadows woven into cloth, cool like a splash of water and equally weightless upon the skin. It resembled a ghostly black hydrangea with a kernel of black nestled within.<br><br>"The Doomguard are our most outspoken critics in the Hall of Speakers. Factol Pentar seems to oppose me instinctively. There is likely little in the Festhall that would tempt them, just as you or I rarely have reason to visit their Armory." As she considered, she frowned. "Easy though it is to accept them as spies, the idea that you witnessed them behaving suspiciously and brandishing Sinker emblems causes me to wonder if it were only a ruse. If you believe they spoke in a way at odds with the Doomguard philosophy, it may be so. Tread carefully when it comes to the Doomguard, and to Pentar especially. Her grudges are extreme."<br><br>"It may benefit all of us for you to stay close to this modron, Harmony. Do you know where to find it?"</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>27-04-2013, 20:07:19</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Erin Montgomery's Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra, Factol Darkflame<br><br>Well, that was just <em>lovely</em>. The situation was confused enough as it was, and now it was apparently even twistier than it at first appeared. Or at least probably was, in one way or another. Of course, she had never known the Doomguard to be particularly philosophically sound to begin with —&nbsp;the entire organisation was either malicious or vacuous depending on which horn of the dilemma you took —&nbsp;so perhaps this one was a coincidence? Then again, why be so vocal about it. Now she just had to sort out the incompetence from the fakery. <br><br>Perrin restrained the irritated huff, but only just barely. She could deal with that later when she had time to ponder. "I was on my way to try and find it when I came across your consort," she said. "While I do suspect Harmony is about as unaware as we are as to the exact motives behind the investigation into it —&nbsp;although I suppose it could surprise me in that regard&nbsp;—&nbsp;I was of the mind that it should be informed at the very least." <br><br>There was, after all, <em>some</em> kind of scandal just waiting to happen there, even if Perrin couldn't quite yet put her finger on what it would be. "Fortunately, while I never got the chance to actually track it down, it blends into a crowd about as well as I do. I'm sure we can track it down quickly enough, and after getting in touch we will see if we can't get to the root of this peculiar situation with the recorders."<br><br>That alone was enough for Perrin to take on this task, even if it weren't blindingly obvious how good a thing it was to have the Society's Factol think highly of her. The thought of suddenly unreliable recorders, the constant fear of tampering for who knew what ends. And if you could kill with them, could you influence decisions? Or anything of a thousand other very disturbing possibilities. <br><br>No, this was certainly the sort of challenge to the integrity of the proper running of the Society that really couldn't be allowed to stand. The crisis of confidence alone would have her drowning in enough red ink to dye her entire bodylength, and that would just be the beginning of it. The very thought of her own frequent jaunts in the sensoria being compromised was enough to make her scales rustle as her flesh crawled. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>28-04-2013, 03:58:45</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> Erin Montgomery's Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra, Factol Darkflame<br><br>Alzeggra took back the stone, then stretched out on soft grass below her.&nbsp; "Hhhmm, a modron...&nbsp; I do recall seeing one about the Sensorium during my appearances.&nbsp; More humanoid than the others, and... unclad."&nbsp; There was no other way to describe it.&nbsp; "I presume that's Harmony?&nbsp; There's not too many modrons in the Society."<br><br>It wouldn't be out of place for the Doomguard to stir up trouble against the devotees of Law; or anyone else if it would help further their goals of universal entropy.&nbsp; "Perhaps they were visiting to kill Harmony or steal her memories, and attacked the wrong person?&nbsp; You said that they were searching for memories of not being a modron, Peregrine?&nbsp; Perhaps they mistaken Nilassa for her.&nbsp; That might explain the recorder stone's trap; it could be a lethal way of absorbing memories.&nbsp; This is all theory of course."<br><br>She got up to wander about the tree.&nbsp; "I did take some initiative.&nbsp; I asked Talren for some help after I looked over Nilassa's papers.&nbsp; It was there I spotted the name of Heiron Lifegiver and asked him to inquire further.&nbsp; So far I know that he grants worker's visas to people in the gate-town of Automata."<br><br>After making a full circle around she came back to Factol Darkflame.&nbsp; "I did not take the papers.&nbsp; Do we still have access to them, or were they taken away?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>28-04-2013, 08:29:40</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/Fei-favorite_avi.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fei<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Golden Morning Radiance, Open<br><hr>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Fei breathed a sigh of relief.&nbsp; They had their time.&nbsp; She gave Harmony a thankful smile. “My thanks,” she said bowing her head slightly. “May I know your name helpful one?” Fei asked realizing she had yet to be introduced to the naked Modron. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Just as she finished her question she felt the feather light tickles of the pool of lustrous raven hair pooling in her lap. Her attention had been so focused on Harmony that she had not noticed the silken drapes falling away from the olive-skinned petitioner.&nbsp; For a moment she was dumbstruck.&nbsp; Golden Morning Radiance was a vision as beautiful as her name. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Oh my.&nbsp; Yes you are.” Fei said in surprise at the vision before her and had to stifle a giggle.&nbsp; It was nice to be surprised.&nbsp; “The sensation you are seeking is but one that we would be honored to show you.” Fei was making that decision based on the wonderful reaction of Harmony’s body to Golden Morning Radiance’s frantic kiss.&nbsp; The Modron may not have returned the caress, but that didn’t mean that Fei hadn’t noticed the signs of physical arousal in the golden woman’s body.&nbsp; Perhaps she too needed a lesson in the art of the kiss.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“But here is not the place for us to begin our quest.&nbsp; There are people looking for you and eventually you will be found.” She explained rising to her feet and with some regret let the pile of silken strands fall from her lap, oh to feel them cascaded over her own skin, letting there tips tease and torment her flesh.&nbsp; It would be to simple to toss aside concern for the woman and bed her here in the sensorium lost in a tangle of olive and gold limbs, but she had made a promise and would follow though if able.&nbsp; However amid carnal thoughts an idea did spring.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “But those people are looking for a lone woman, bound head to toe in silks.&nbsp; They are not looking for three woman, bound in nothing but their skin.” Fei held out her hands to help Golden Morning Radiance to her feet allowing the woman’s silken garments to completely fall away.&nbsp; She placed olive hands on the silken band that held her own robes in place and brushed a lock of lose black tendrils fallen in front almond eyes.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“You have but to pull gently here and you will undress me, and we will walk past the guards and into the city to begin seeking answers to your quest.”&nbsp; If Golden Morning Radiance wished to truly join the society she was going to have to do these things herself.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kunoichi</strong> on <strong>29-04-2013, 05:41:07</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Harmony<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance, Fei, Open<br><br>Golden Morning Radiance's actions continued to be a puzzle to Harmony, as time went on.&nbsp; The petitioner had been hesitant to indulge in recorded impressions of sexual activities with other women, yet soon after, she was willingly disrobing herself, her actions consistent with sexual displays meant to arouse and attract potential partners.&nbsp; She had confessed to being willing, and through her actions seemed almost eager, to engage in sexual activities with both herself and Fei, in clear defiance of her earlier actions.&nbsp; Could it be that she simply had a reason to prefer the real act over the recorded one, even though there were few qualitative differences between them?&nbsp; But then, what could that reason be?<br><br><em>"May I know your name helpful one?"</em><br><br>"I choose to call myself Harmony."&nbsp; The question had been simple enough to answer, though it also left the Modron somewhat puzzled.&nbsp; Fei had been listening in on her earlier conversation with Golden Morning Radiance.&nbsp; Did she only arrive after the point in the conversation where the Modron had introduced herself?&nbsp; That would explain the lack of knowledge...&nbsp; But there were more pressing concerns, at the moment.<br><br>As a petitioner from a lawful good-aligned plane, Golden Morning Radiance's form held an innate appeal to Harmony's sense of aesthetics.&nbsp; She lacked many of the odd little touches of asymmetry that mortals never seemed to notice within themselves, little accidents of natural growth that were too small for most people to even bother noticing.&nbsp; Both breasts were precisely the same size, for example, with no deviations in mass or other measurements that the Modron could detect.&nbsp; Her olive skin was flawless, containing no imperfections; her long, black hair was perfectly straight without even the slightest hint of tangling or even a single follicle out of place; her lips were smooth, her eyes and ears level, and, from the angle the Modron could see from, at least, her ass was also-<br><br><em>"But those people are looking for a lone woman, bound head to toe in silks.&nbsp; They are not looking for three women, bound in nothing but their skin."</em><br><br>"I approve of this plan."&nbsp; The words left Harmony's mouth automatically, almost before she could process what the plan actually was.&nbsp; The two women sharing the chamber of the sensorium with her would make slight changes to their appearance in order to avoid matching the description that had been given, and the three of them would exit the building together, thus neatly avoiding the ongoing search.<br><br>On review of the plan laid out by the other woman, the Modron found no reason to amend her earlier statement, hasty though it may have been.&nbsp; She could not conceive of any potential flaws in this course of action whatsoever.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meikle</strong> on <strong>30-04-2013, 14:53:38</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Will of the One<br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>Ihaana's eyes had that far-off glaze; she didn't take as easily to the drugs, maybe, as her companion, or maybe she'd taken something else?&nbsp; She didn't remember.&nbsp; Tried, but couldn't.&nbsp; She laughed when she felt a tongue on her ear, but awkwardly slipped an arm around Rysse, resting her hand alternately on the tiefling's waist, back, wherever as she moved.&nbsp; Each of Ihaana's fingertips was scarred save her index fingers, tiny little lines that had been cut, scarred, and cut again until they stood out fractionally above the rest of skin.&nbsp; Like so much of Ihaana, even her touch demanded to be remembered, to be unique.<br><br>"The center of the multiverse," Ihaana echoed, staring off toward the pouring water, the genasi that had disappeared within it.&nbsp; Another memory shifted through her mind, an echo of a philosopher she'd met when she'd first stepped foot into Sigil, when she was still one of the Clueless, an aimless prime crushed by the wonder of the city in the center of everything.&nbsp; He'd told her, <em>Wherever we stand, that is the center of all things.</em>&nbsp; Was he one of these, a Signer?&nbsp; Or maybe just a cartographer.<br><br>Under Rysse's tongue, Ihaana's pulse was languid, drugged.&nbsp; <em>Thump...&nbsp; Thump...</em>&nbsp; She tried to speak, but lost the thought.<br><br>Instead, she considered: "Are we the vulgar show?"&nbsp; She laughed at that, and pulled Rysse closer, or maybe just leaned toward her.&nbsp; It seemed the same to her.&nbsp; More quietly, so Rysse might hear but not Prisine, her drug-addled brain left her to mutter, "Or maybe we're the Center."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MdG</strong> on <strong>01-05-2013, 20:02:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Will of the One<br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>Rysse exhaled sharply, teeth bared, nipping at the inked flesh of Ihaana's shoulder. Little, wet kisses spiced with sharp, little bites on the aasimar's exposed neck and throat. Ihaana's textured touch felt illusory. Sublime in a way few of her lovers could have matched. Rysse adored the sensation on the small of her back, the full curve of her bottom - even, and perhaps especially, if it was the absent-minded, half-affectionate caress in the playful lull between bouts of coupling. But oh what those fingers could do inside of her, teasing, fucking, strumming her sweet spots - the very thought made Rysse shiver. "You know my centre well, don't you?" Rysse purred, her mind distantly gathering her thoughts. "Does she mean that we make the Multiverse when we think it and feel it, and so we're all at the centre - maybe there are as many Multiverses as there are thinking sods. I'm clueless one way or the other, but you know, I'd never turn down an offer for a vulgar show - I guess that makes me a vulgar woman, which being a tiefling and all, is sort of a given. Vulgar's interesting though, it's this highfalutin screed that needs to prove it's more than a show."<br><br>She rocked with Ihaana - a strange, half-dance to the languid pulse of the aasimar's heart. The water and the colours refracted there swirled with the movement, leaving long, glimmering trails like a shower of comets in Rysse's vision. <em>All the same - these Factions</em>, she thought, nuzzling Ihaana's throat, <em>godspoke words, just-so stories - don't bother thinking, we'll just tell you the fucking answer.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>02-05-2013, 01:05:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/d0/Prisine.jpg)<br><em>Prisine </em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Prisine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>New factions and splinter groups budded up all the time in the political landscape of Sigil. Most of them were never allowed to rise to power, never had a chance- those who threatened the peace of Sigil, like the Incantifiers, vanished without a trace. Those who played the political game on the major factions' terms were buried with a single misstep. The Will of the One was a small splinter, drawing membership from its mother faction, the Sign of One. Already it was making waves. Prisine was a dangerous cutter to be around.<br><br>But she was a force of personality. Still dripping wet, shimmering with tiny scales arranged like freckles, she observed the orgiastic aftershocks of the previous night's festivities as though it were exactly how things ought to be. No, she was not the well-muscled swimmer of a native to the endless ocean- she was more of a minnow, raised in a Cage, a stranger to the plane of her heritage, like Rysse, like Ihaana. "I want you to be at this thing, when we take the crowd at Elloweth. We don't have your confidence just yet- that's expected. You haven't been there for the One's miracles so far, but this promises to be the biggest yet."<br><br>There was a cool, wet touch to the dazed aasimar's new tattoo as Prisine stepped through the tangle on the long beanpole legs of a nereid's child. She had to search for it to find it among the rest, erasing the ash of Rysse's touch as she did and leaving dirty dewdrops like the kind that gathered on Sigil's streets. "I've always known the truth of the Signers. I was immersed in the truth before I even learned to swim. Not everybody has that opportunity to understand the chant. To really understand it." Her body was narrow and hard and slippery against the drugged pair sliding over one another, crouched in an empty gesture of camraderie. She was sober and she was unbranded, and there was an equally lucid woman coming to fit her into a clean white sundress to start her day of politicking. "The Will draws many from among the disenfranchised. Talk is easy, but seeing real power, belief made material, that's special."</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>04-05-2013, 17:51:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/fb/Erinmug.jpg)<br><em>Factol Darkflame</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Factol Erin Darkflame Montgomery<br><strong>Location:</strong> Erin Montgomery's Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Perrin, Alzeggra<br><br>"What I know of modrons tells me they need special guidance to adjust to Sigil. We should protect each of our own, but especially those who can't protect themselves," she said of the solidly built swordswoman, demonstrating how very out of touch she was compared to her consort. "Finding and protecting Harmony is well within the means of the Festhall guard, though with a petitioner loose on the grounds, spies among us, and a murder to sort out, it may not be a high priority. You're going to have to make a judgement call."<br><br>When Alzeggra next appeared around the circumference of the garden tree, Factol Darkflame was watching her, legs folded and fingers curled against the shadow of her robe. She had known the wickedness of Toril drow; it was shown in her face. Her eyes, though, were as curious as the most voracious Sensate. She was, perhaps, seeing something that was not there.&nbsp; "It would be suspicious if her papers went missing. If we obstruct the Harmonium's investigation at all, they will turn on us- on you, especially."<br><br>"The name of the shop I mentioned is Tivvum's Antiquities. It's...a distinctive building, a great column of midnight green marble at the edge of the Great Bazaar, on the Saint's Boulevard side. Near the debtor's pole." There was no north, east, south, or west in Sigil. The touts gave directions by streets and by landmarks, or with words such as ringward or spireward, wheelwise or counter-wheelwise. But even these failed, as the city was changing, the streets rearranged through the tinkering of the inscrutable dabus. A whole neighborhood had gone sentient not too long ago and changed everything around. Even lifelong inhabitants of the Cage could get lost at times. "It's run by an old tiefling named Lu. She's bound to be crafty."</td></tr></tbody></table><hr><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Fei<br><br>"Out there?" Golden Morning Radiance cringed with embarrassment, her intertwined legs wiggled from the ball of one foot to the other as Fei's hands guided her silks to fall and expose her from head to toe. It took more than a moment for her to compose herself, and turn the fluster back into that hot desire to do something wild. "Yes- alright. I will do it." Her fingers worked apologetically at Fei's sash, her head down but her eyes keen to see the present she was unwrapping. Though the temperature in the Sensoriums was quite agreeable, she was shivering.<br><br>"Where will we begin our quest?" Her slender fingers worked under the tie, a small tickle caught between the tension of the sash and Fei's body. With a shimmy she threaded it through folds of silk, a familiar skill, and drew open the sash to expose Fei to the same air that she was breathing deeply. "This is all new to me," she said, but she seemed to know what she wanted. Her hands caressed the open edges of Fei's robe, up to the changeling's shoulders, and gave a gentle push to send the colors rushing down the lines of the woman's body. Golden Morning Radiance's hands continued halfway down the light flesh of Fei's arms before she stopped herself.<br><br>The petitioner's body pushed lightly to Fei's as she turned her head to try to see Harmony over her shoulder. Her neck was exposed to the tickle of Fei's breath, and her dark hair was a curtain just as soft as the silks they'd discarded. A little of this and a little of the hot swell of embarrassment caused her to giggle, and her chest smeared to Fei's with that small vibration. She was on the small side, at only five-foot-aught, precisely the way Cuatha's search party was out there describing her.<br><br>And they were out there, the Factor, a security team, maybe half a dozen Sensates pulled from the bliss or agony of Sensorium experiences. They would surely spy three women in the nude immediately.</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>04-05-2013, 21:33:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Factol Erin Darkflame Montgomery<br><strong>Location:</strong> Erin Montgomery's Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Perrin, Alzeggra<br><br>Alzeggra thought for a while, her hand on her chin.&nbsp; Harmony was surely in danger, even if she could not confirm the source of it.&nbsp; If the Doomguard was indeed responsible for Nilassa's death and going around killing devotees of Law, then the Modron would surely be next on their hit list.&nbsp; On the other hand, whoever's responsible for the clandestine trade of recorder stones will soon catch on to the hubbub around the Sensorium and go dark.&nbsp; Despite the uncertainty and danger, all eyes were on the Festhall, and not on Tivvum's Antiquities.&nbsp; And the added presence of the Harmonium could act as a sort of balance against Doomguard machinations.&nbsp; But modrons were very literal and did not understand the subtleties of social interactions. <br><br>Helping out Harmony seemed the best choice from a moral standpoint; she was one of their own, and needed to be alerted of the full danger.&nbsp; But from a practical standpoint, Alzeggra's talents were best suited to tracking things down others did not want found.&nbsp; And she'd not get another opportunity so soon; if Harmony was indeed safe and the Doomguards had left, then her efforts would be for naught.<br><br>"I'll look into Tivvum's Antiquities," Alzeggra said.&nbsp; "If I find anything within 24 hours, I'll contact you with the dead drop system.&nbsp; I'll plant a message in the Market Ward, the S-shaped alley near the Parts and Pieces shop.&nbsp; Look for some red chalk graffiti, designed to look like a children's drawing.&nbsp; The container will be nearby."<br><br>"Peregrine, you can choose to accompany me.&nbsp; Otherwise I'd see to Harmony's safety as paramount.&nbsp; She's likely the next target, if the Doomguard's targeting people connected to Mechanus."<br><br>Alzeggra reached into her bag of holding and pulled out a repeating crossbow.&nbsp; It was quite the distinctive piece of work, its stock designed with curving, flowing patterns which faintly emanated with divine energy.&nbsp; The wood comprising its frame was a deep red, crafted from the wild trees of the twilight layer of Brux.&nbsp; The memories of animal spirits living out the afterlives among the shadowed groves were still vibrant in her mind, as was the process of crafting the weapon in its entirety among the pastoral scenes.&nbsp; It was one of her many pieces of handcrafted work she made while on the road, and one of her most prized creations.&nbsp; "You can never be too careful," she said as she loaded several bolts into the magazine on top.<br><br>Without a further word she left the chamber and ventured out into the streets of Sigil, en route to the curio shop which surely held more answers to Nilassa's past.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>05-05-2013, 08:19:38</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/Fei-favorite_avi.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fei<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Golden Morning Radiance, Open<br><hr>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Harmony.&nbsp; Such a beautiful name,” Fei replied with an appreciative smile that turned into an amused one at the Modron’s quick agreement to her suggestion that they all disrobe.&nbsp; Perhaps she was more interested in the early kiss than she had at first appeared.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>“Out there?”</em> The question caused Fei to turn her attention to Golden Morning Radiance and the perfect contours of her olive skin.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Yes,” She nodded and felt the fluttering attempts at her sash, “but I think you will have to leave Golden Morning Radiance behind.&nbsp; That name is known to those following you.&nbsp; Perhaps Dawn would suit you just as well.&nbsp; It is still beautiful and appropriate.” She suggested.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Where will we begin our quest?"</em> <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “You already have.” She said letting Golden Morning Radiance’s fingers play tentatively at the sash, gaining confidence as she went. The sash fell away and the silken curtain parted to reveal pale, smooth skin that sloped pleasingly down a smooth belly and curved into the small patch of dark hair crowning her sex.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <em>"This is all new to me.”</em><br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Fei watched the olive-skinned ones movements, her hands feeling and touching the edges of Fei’s robe running along the pale skin underneath.&nbsp; She let her do so enjoying the feeling of fingers exploring the contours of her body, running over her modest and firm breasts and tracing along her delicate collar bone to finally push her robes off pale shoulders. Fei felt her own tingle of excitement when olive flesh drew across powder white.&nbsp; She leaned in to the dusky neck that presented itself so wonderfully to her lips and briefly the met.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Isn’t that why you came, to experience something new, live the fullness of life?” She whispered, turning her head ever so slightly so that she could look past the curtain of dark hair to the lovely eyes of the golden maiden.&nbsp; “Tell me if this looks right.” She said shifting her body to match the one so close to her taking in every detail of Golden Morning Radiances perfect hills and valleys and sculpting her form to match until she stepped away and there was two olive skinned women standing before Harmony, twins more perfect than the gods could have created.&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kunoichi</strong> on <strong>06-05-2013, 20:21:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Harmony<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance, Fei, Open<br><br>Harmony was... surprised, to say the least, when Fei's appearance changed to a near-exact match for Golden Morning Radiance.&nbsp; Not that she had any objections, as the woman's new shape would allow her to further appreciate the aesthetics of the petitioner's form, but the simple fact that her fellow Sensate had such capabilities required her to revise several previous estimations.&nbsp; To say nothing of making a mental note to inquire in the future about what else she could do...<br><br>Ah, but a question had been asked of her.&nbsp; As soon as she realized that, the Modron slid around the edge of the crowded chamber, brushing past the two women sharing it with her so that she could get into a better position to inspect the two of them.&nbsp; Smiling again, she nodded.<br><br>"It is an exact match,"&nbsp; She stated, though that did not stop her from continuing her inspection.&nbsp; "Would it be correct to assume that this disguise will increase our chances of safely escorting 'Dawn' from this building?"<br><br>As a hypothesis, it had some supporting evidence behind it.&nbsp; The Modron still did not have a full grasp of mortal social customs, but the appearance of twins would surely throw off anyone searching for a single lone woman, would it not?&nbsp; There were undoubtedly other reasons for the choice as well, reasons which did not occur to her due to her limited understanding, so the logical choice on how to proceed was fairly clear...<br><br>"Fei, when we exit this room, I believe you should handle social interactions with any who wish to speak to us,"&nbsp; Harmony suggested.&nbsp; "I will do my best to support your statements, but I do not believe our chances of success will increase if I am in the lead."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>10-05-2013, 16:27:33</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Corridors near Erin Montgomery's Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra<br><br>Oh, a Harmonium investigation. Perrin wrinkled her nose; there was a prospect she was not at all looking forward to. Not that she really had that much of a problem with the Harmonium, not compared to most people it seemed at any rate. Especially not with a lot of those she ended up associating with at any rate. She probably just had more vested in a law-abiding society, in either her capacity as legal or financial aide. <br><br>But even so, this was not exactly the kind of thing one wanted aired, at least she didn't think so. And honestly they probably could kick up enough of a fuss to keep the Harmonium out if not forever then certainly for long enough to finish their own work. Of course, it probably would get a few noses bent the wrong way, so perhaps there were better ways to spend that bit of political capital.<br><br>Nevertheless it felt like someone was running their hands along her scales against the grain. Oh well, she could stake out territory once the dike actually broke. No sense worrying about it too much now, not when they had other things pressing. <br><br>"Harmony is within the walls of the Festhall I imagine? If so she's about as safe as can be at the moment considering the alert we're on. Anywhere else and I'm not the person you want tracking her down in all likelihood anyhow." She took a moment disentangling herself, working out the kinks in her muscles as she unknotted her coils. She undulated forward, falling in beside Alzeggra, hands clasped behind her back. <br><br>"Lead on, ma petite souer. It'll be awfully boring around here till we can make it so I don't have to worry before picking up a recorder stone, anyhow." Then again, was going somewhere that required a crossbow be any less hazardous to one's health? Even if it was in theory just being careful and all. On the other hand, how often did you get mugged while going antiquing? The thought alone was enough to make her lips curve upwards, even if there was in this case plenty of reason to believe they might. <br><br>Well, she was already up past her tail in it, and she'd be on the list somewhere eventually. Might as well get it over with, and if she had someone around at the time at least that was someone to throw in the line of fire while she went for reinforcements. <br><br>She glanced over towards Alzeggra, and lowered herself slightly to make conversation a little easier. "Do we really have a dead drop system?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>10-05-2013, 22:11:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> Corridors near Erin Montgomery's Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra<br><br>"The entire Society?&nbsp; No.&nbsp; It's more of an impromptu system me and a few others have worked out in case secrecy becomes a necessity.&nbsp; As a devotee of Fharlanghn, I've learned that you can't just carve out a wide path somewhere for everyone to see.&nbsp; 'All roads lead to you, but don't advertise it' was a common saying by Brother Bjartr."<br><br>Alzeggra smiled at her memories with her traveling companion.&nbsp; "It wasn't very often one ran into a fire giant cleric of the God of Roads, especially since his people had a habit of wiping out any traces of apostasy from the god Surtr.&nbsp; Sometimes I wondered if it was a common saying among the clergy, or his size made him realize the need for subtlety."&nbsp; She laughed a little at this.&nbsp; "A giant and drow traveling together led to a lot of misunderstandings, to put it lightly.&nbsp; One more reason I like Sigil so much; no matter how much you might stick out, people are unfazed because there's always something stranger around the corner."<br><br>It was an odd thing to say, but it did have a hint of truth to it.&nbsp; This truth became reality once she and Peregrine stepped out the front gate and onto the twisting streets of the Festhall District.&nbsp; Surrounding the grand Festhall were endless rows of theaters, eateries, and homes-turned-shops where down on their luck artists sold their creations to passing Sensates and anyone else interested in the arts.&nbsp; Every so often Alzeggra spotted a Harmonium guard looking utterly out of place amid the throngs of wandering performers and street shows passing through town.&nbsp; A lillend flying through the air briefly slowed her course to quizzically look at the armored figures who did not seem to be joining in the fun.<br><br>"I kind of feel bad for them," Alzeggra said to Perrin.&nbsp; "They have to stay vigilant to find the murderer, all the while surrounded by these crowds.&nbsp; And their presence is putting a damper on people's fun.&nbsp; Either way they lose."<br><br>The pair spotted the green marble tower of Tivvum's Antiquities before they set foot into the Bazaar proper.&nbsp; Even a newcomer to the City of Doors couldn't miss the building standing proud above the twisting streets and shops of the Market Ward.<br><br>"Alright," Alzeggra said when they came within a block of the store.&nbsp; "We'll pose as customers.&nbsp; It's unlikely that whoever's dealing in purloined recorder stones is going to display them openly, or if the shop owner's even aware of this."<br><br>Alzeggra broke a bread loaf she bought from a stall on the way over in half and offered it to Perrin.&nbsp; "By the way, how skilled are you in matters of espionage?&nbsp; Lockpicking, divination and illusion magic, that kind of stuff.&nbsp; I'll need to know so that we can formulate a plan."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>11-05-2013, 09:40:49</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Bazaar, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra<br><br>Perrin let her mind drift idly over an image of what Alzeggra must have looked like back when she was travelling more. It certainly did sound like they would have been a sight, all the more so that she recalled something about coal black skin and flaming beards. They must have entirely recast the notion of a big brother and little sister to everyone they met up. <br><br>And then she let her mind drift over thoughts of the lillend flittering by. While there was much to be said about legs, Perrin had discovered during her time away from home, or first home at any rate, the exoticism only took you so far. And <em>there</em> was a tail, body sleek and fully stretched out in flight in a downright <em>licentious</em> manner, showing off every inch. She looked western —&nbsp;even if Perrin realised that typically didn't hold outside her home —&nbsp;with a olive and tan mottling, and a pale underbelly with brown skin up above where the waist ought to be. Very fer-de-lance in that pleasantly exotic native princess sort of way. <br><br>It wasn't as though she was <em>ignoring</em> Alzeggra, but admittedly she had to forcibly pry her attention away from the flying serpent, the lot of which always struck Perrin as incorrigible exhibitionists —&nbsp;not that anyone ever caught her complaining about that —&nbsp;and back to the task at hand. <br><br>"I suppose it depends on the circumstance," she said as they strolled into the bazaar. "I admit I haven't had much occasion to do much in the way of <em>low profile</em>, but the magic end of things I most certainly can do." She was a little sharper on the theory than practical side of things, but only sometimes had that blown up in her face, and no need to advertise the fact. Her entire species was inherently better at it than the vast majority of people anyhow, so it's not like she wouldn't measure up in comparison to any competition she might have here. <br><br>"And if we ever have to look at their books or audit their inventory management system, I have not yet found one so horrible and poorly designed that I couldn't find the embezzlement and fraud. Doubly so if they have connexions to one of ours, and trust me they will. You can't survive around here without, really." Not that she actually expected things to come down to an audit, but there wasn't any harm in polishing your scales a little given the opportunity. <br><br>"But magic I can handle. And I rarely set off pressure plates? They're usually designed for bipeds, although trip wires are utterly <em>awful</em> for me. Karma and all that." She paused for a moment, then scooted off to a slightly more private spot. "Speaking of illusions, I'm rather well known around here." She closed her eyes for a moment, her tongue partly sticking out over her top lip as she concentrated. It wasn't much of a change, but on the other hand easy to maintain. Non-descript dark hair, a tan, scales now a rather lovely ebony with lighter coloured striping, and just enough blurring to her features that everyone would talk about her colouration rather than anything that could be traced back to her. <br><br>"I end up making rounds through here fairly frequently," she said apologetically as she fell in beside Alzeggra again. "Never been to this shop, but undoubtedly been past it, and I do more to give us a bad reputation than any ten of our theatre pick pockets put together." <br><br>She gave Alzeggra a pleasant smile. "Now, do we intend to just poke our noses through and see what we turn up, or do you have something more that we should be squeezing out of this?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>14-05-2013, 04:35:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Bazaar, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Alzeggra, Peregrine<br><br>Peregrine's new form was beautiful to behold.&nbsp; Not that her original wasn't, but her dark scales reflected nicely off the ambient light.&nbsp; They must be smooth to the touch, and Alzeggra fantasized about running her fingers along her length.<br><br>"Well, first we should try going into the shop and pretend to browse," she said, looking thoughtfully over to the tower.&nbsp; "Look for any oddities in the area, people acting unusually or suspicious characters.&nbsp; Financial blackmail could be useful if we do find anything amiss in their records, although I don't think they'll just hand over their records to just anyone.&nbsp; We'll need a convincing cover story for that dilemma."<br><br>A red-robed humanoid figure passed into the shop, the distinctive pentagrams on the back marking him as a devotee of Asmodeus.&nbsp; Despite no deity claiming a stronghold over Sigil, it was nonetheless friendly to most faiths which didn't upset the power balance.&nbsp; Even worshipers of evil gods didn't elicit cause for alarm like they did in so many other worlds.<br><br>"I have an idea," Alzeggra said.&nbsp; "You can pose as a Fated trader seeking a business deal.&nbsp; Appeal to the owner's greed, offer promises of tax-exemption and hidden trade routes through the Planes.&nbsp; This can be a good precedent for getting him to disclose financial details; just make it seem like you're being pragmatic and act impressed at his capital.&nbsp; Surely a shopkeeper of the Bazaar's most distinctive building has a big enough ego to match."<br><br>She licked her fingers as she finished off the last piece bread, smiling.&nbsp; "While you're doing that, I'll be scouting the area.&nbsp; It would be great if you got him to turn over his records, but I will need enough time, so try to keep him at the front desk if you can."<br><br>The shop's interior would ordinarily be quite large, except the cluttered and haphazard arrangement of shelves made for a cramped and uncomfortable experience.&nbsp; Strange and macabre objects bunched together with little rhyme or reason, no visible signs indicating either their price or purpose.&nbsp; Even the flickering orbs of continual flame situated in the corners were not enough to illuminate the shop's entirety.&nbsp; A colony of eyes swimming in a jar trailed the path of the two newcomers.&nbsp; Alzeggra took a shawl off from a hanging chair and tossed it over the jar.&nbsp; <em>Not the first time I've had to deal with voyeurs.</em><br><br>The red-robed Asmodean busily arranged a set of dark seeds on a shelf, carefully analyzing each one.&nbsp; He appeared too busy to notice Alzeggra's presence.&nbsp; "Hmm, druidic make.&nbsp; Not exactly what I was looking for."<br><br>The voice was at once all too familiar.&nbsp; This man's dress was different enough the first time they had met about the business regarding the Shadow Plane.&nbsp; Doubtlessly he'd ask her long, detailed questions about the research and leads, neither of which met with significant progress.<br><br><em>Shit, now I'll need to look out for him <strong>and</strong> any guards in this shop!</em><br><br>He passed by to the next aisle, unaware of the dark elf under the table mere feet away from him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>15-05-2013, 01:58:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> "Dawn"<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Fei<br><br>There was not a beat missed as Golden Morning Radiance- Dawn, now- stood before a perfect copy of herself. "You look just like me. Such powerful women number among the Sensates," she marveled. Without much room to move, her limbs tucked close and her personal space small and discreet, she bowed to Fei with a gentle elegance made to make silk flow. One eye peeked open to see if the bow were being returned. It wasn't purely a show of respect. It was for Fei's instruction on how to become Golden Morning Radiance. "From this moment forward, I will answer to <em>Dawn." </em><br><br>Before she could step out nude into the crowds of Sigil, there were trembles Dawn needed to calm. Her fingers curled into rings, and she took a breath to center herself. There was a superstition, in Sigil, that rings had a significance. Rings were where portals formed, they were the shape of the mysterious city and the Great Road that ran endlessly through every Outer Plane. A second superstition was the rule of three: that things, for better or worse, whether events or Sensates streaking through Sigil, tended to happen in threes. There was, of course, a third superstition.<br><br>"I am Dawn, worshipper at the Society of Sensation. It is my task to experience new things." The olive-skinned petitioner gave a single firm nod, and opened the chamber door. There were Signers in robes out in the hall, a tall and gaunt old figure with a wisp of white hair, and a pair of new recruits learning the hows and whys of the Sensorium. They looked on thin-lipped as Dawn took her first steps out into the halls, every muscle of her body on display.<br><br>Without being told, she resisted the temptation to re-fold her hands across her lap. Covering herself would only diminish the experience. When she began to move a little faster, her long hair swished and tickled across her nudity, hiding just enough to keep eyes lingering on her in want of more. "This is very...<em>very </em>intense," she whispered tersely, when she believed the others were with her. Leaving through the Sensate Sensoriums meant descending a spiral ramp that was open to observe all galleries, and in return open to observation from many floors at once. There were often dozens of Sensates, Fei and Harmony's peers, arriving from the commons below. There would be guards. There might even be Harmonium.</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>15-05-2013, 04:03:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fei<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Golden Morning Radiance, Open<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"It is an exact match.&nbsp; Would it be correct to assume that this disguise will increase our chances of safely escorting 'Dawn' from this building?"</em><br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; Dawn-Fei nodded, the motion sending a ripple through the shimmering curtain of dark hair flowing across her shoulders and down her back. “I believe so. They are not looking for twins or three lovely Sensates out for a stroll.”<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;At Dawn’s words she positively beamed and placed delicate fingers on her now dusky hip posing so that Dawn could look at herself.&nbsp; “Thank you, Dawn.” She said and returned the bow expertly.&nbsp; Life as an actress and mimic made such a simple gesture quite easy for her even peeking out of one eye before giving her a playful wink, the bow causing Dawn-Fei’s smooth posterior to brush along Harmony’s thigh in the close confines.&nbsp; Dawn-Fei listened to Dawn’s mantra and again smiled.&nbsp; “Yes that is who you are and that is your task.&nbsp; Remember those words and live them and you will receive the reward you seek.&nbsp; For the moment call me Dusk, I find it fitting for the moment.&nbsp; Fei if she is known is known as a Changeling and that information would do us no good.” She suggested turning around when Harmony spoke once again.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“I will do so if you wish.&nbsp; Do you have a destination in mind to start out endeavor?” She asked slipping an arm into Harmony’s and stepping them out together following the suddenly emboldened Dawn. Harmony was unexpectedly warm as Dawn-Fei hugged up against her like the tall Modron was escorting her on a night out.&nbsp; The warmth coupled with the Modron’s wondrously exotic form sent a pleasurable shiver through her new body.&nbsp; New bodies were so delightful, each reacting in its own unique way to stimuli.&nbsp; Yes it was still Fei, but the way Dawn-Fei’s small dark nipples puckered and swelled at the nearness of golden flesh was different in its acute ache than the bulbous globes of an Asgardian Valkyrie or the rows of leathery scaled nipples of a Yuan-ti.&nbsp; She was so very happy to have stopped by the sensoriums today.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>“This is very...very intense.”</em><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Isn’t it wonderful?” Dawn-Fei agreed indicating that the neophyte sensate should take Harmony’s other arm as she had.&nbsp; “We will be but a beautiful frame for our Golden Goddess and see what sensations we can find.”&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Yeah, when Fei took a roll she really through herself into it.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kunoichi</strong> on <strong>16-05-2013, 01:03:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Harmony<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> 'Dawn', Fei, Open<br><br><em>"I will do so if you wish.&nbsp; Do you have a destination in mind to start out endeavor?"</em><br><br>This was a valid question, and one that gave Harmony a few moments' pause.&nbsp; The most obvious and immediate destination was 'outside the Civic Festhall', but if Dawn was not found within the premises, it was logical to assume that those searching for her would expand their efforts.&nbsp; Simply staying within the immediate vicinity of the Festhall would thus be counterproductive to their goals.&nbsp; In addition to that, they had an overall objective to achieve, now, and it would be difficult to seek out new experiences if they remained at a single location.&nbsp; Clearly, they would need to discuss their overall plan in more depth at a later date, but for now...<br><br>A quick glance at the loose pile of silken clothing on the floor brought up an idea.<br><br>"We may wish to purchase clothing to replace the outfits you have discarded,"&nbsp; The Modron suggested, gesturing down at the clothes in question.&nbsp; "I have not been in Sigil for a long enough time to familiarize myself with its layout, however.&nbsp; Will you guide us to a suitable clothing shop once we have safely exited the building?"<br><br>Whatever the answer, soon enough, the Modron stood outside the Sensorium with the newly-named Dawn and Dusk, each of the two identical women hanging off one arm.&nbsp; The arrangement was somewhat inefficient, limiting mobility in ways that would hamper her movements severely if she was required to fight, but she was mildly surprised to find that she did not mind, instead finding enjoyment in the experience, the warmth and smoothness of their skin adding an extra layer of intimacy that she found pleasant.&nbsp; The weight of so many eyes gazing upon them was a welcome feeling as well, with the Modron experiencing a strange-yet-familiar sense of excitement building slowly in the pit of her stomach with each face they passed.&nbsp; This, too, was a pleasant experience for her, though it was one that she had already experienced several times at this point.<br><br><em>“This is very...very intense.”<br><br>“Isn’t it wonderful? We will be but a beautiful frame for our Golden Goddess and see what sensations we can find.”</em><br><br>"I am not a goddess.&nbsp; I am a Modron,"&nbsp; Harmony's first instinct was to correct the phrasing the changeling had used, though the tone of her voice was warm, and carried neither anger nor annoyance within it.&nbsp; Next, addressing Dawn's statement...&nbsp; "Walking nude through large crowds can be an intense experience at first, but that same intensity can be... pleasant, in its own way.&nbsp; Exciting.&nbsp; I am not certain I can describe it properly, though I have experienced it several times, myself.&nbsp; If we are lucky, some of those we pass may even reach out to touch us."<br><br>Another benefit of having the two women holding her arms as they were was that they would be the ones placed within easier reach for any who wished to make physical contact.&nbsp; Since it was likely that neither of them had ever had the experience before, the Modron felt fairly certain that they would appreciate the opportunity.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meikle</strong> on <strong>16-05-2013, 02:24:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Will of the One<br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>Ihaana laughed a quiet laugh to herself at Rysse's little digression.&nbsp; "I like to think," she said, thoughtful, "That your vulgarity comes from someplace beside your blood."&nbsp; Her laughter escaped after that, and her scarred fingertips travelled, until her thumb rested atop the tiefling's tail and the rest of her fingers rested on the flesh below with the slightest hint of a grip.<br><br>For a moment, Ihaana thought it might be rude, to let Rysse distract her so while she was a guest at ... Prisine, right?&nbsp; Prisine's event.&nbsp; She'd done plenty enough to distract herself from any concerns of that sort so far, but now her wits were starting to return, just a bit, and she was really starting to hear what the genasi had to say.&nbsp; But she held tight to Rysse nonetheless, and her grip tightened when she felt the Signer's wet touch on the still-raw skin where her newest tattoo had been inked.&nbsp; She gasped, a quiet voiceless, <em>ah.</em><br><br>She wasn't sure what to say.&nbsp; Or what she'd gotten herself into.<br><br>Elloweth -- the theater?&nbsp; As she felt the slightest hints of the haze lifting, she also started to feel very naked.&nbsp; She shook her head and leaned harder into Rysse, and tried to let the whipping wind in her head that carried away her thoughts take lift again.&nbsp; Still, she managed to ask: "When?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>16-05-2013, 14:24:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Bazaar, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Alzeggra, Peregrine<br><br>Ahh, the Fated. Peregrine was well familiar with the group as a whole, and personally knew more than a couple. You only got so far working with Sigilian business before you ended up with a slew of them in your address book. And honestly she probably would have gone much farther there than she did with the Society. Some measure of philosophical prickliness was, so far as she could tell, more expected there, and she certainly would have done well with the currency part of things. <br><br>On the other hand, they didn't have a massage parlour. <br><br>She murmured her assent to the idea and gave Alzeggra a minute's head start before she headed into the shop afterwards. Getting access to the records… that'd probably be difficult on a first visit, at least without some means of forcing the issue, and she doubted that she could manage to bluff her way into a surprise audit from the Hall of Records. Although if it weren't a proprietor, but just a hired shopkeep on hand, perhaps. <br><br>She mused over the matter as she slithered into the building. The nascent plan fled her mind completely the moment she passed the threshold, overwhelmed by the sudden wave of irritation that she had to enter at all. <br><br>It was amazing, she had always thought, that even in the most cosmopolitan of cities the entire place was still laid out for humans, elves, and their ilk. The place would have been a little claustrophobic even if she had been vertically oriented and not all that massive, let alone having over twenty feet of tail behind her. Even compressing herself as much as she could it was a chore to navigate the space, constantly having to readjust so she didn't end up tripping people in the next aisle over. <br><br>And normally she liked this sort of weird collection of odds and ends — you never failed to find <em>something</em> worth the visit, but only if you weren't forced to spend most of your time policing your own body. <br><br>She sighed. At least she was here on business. It took some of the sting out if she didn't actually need to focus on how much fun she should have been having. Now if only they <em>did</em> end up taking the place for all it was worth she might even feel satisfied with the morning. It'd serve them right for laying out the place so inconsiderately. <br><br>Really, they could have at least left enough space for her to manage a proper slither, but instead she was reduced to scooching forward reectilinearly, carefully keeping her coils out of the way till she managed to make it to the counter. <br><br>She smiled, but her heart, for once, wasn't into it, and the clerk barely even drew back at the sight of her fangs."Good morning," she said, letting her eyes run over the clerk critically. The man wasn't all that old, and kind of on the scrawny side. He looked to be about her age, but with humans that meant maybe… mid-twenties? Late teens? Early thirties? Certainly not forty yet she was pretty sure. Not the proprietor then, just hired help. <br><br>"I am Iravana Arjuna, from the Hall of Records. Could I speak with the proprietor?" <br><br>Perrin received a glance in return, albeit one a little more wide eyed, despite the fact they must have gotten a dozen stranger in every day. Was the man new? "Madame Lu is unavailable," he said, the words sounded automatic and rehearsed. Did that imply that she was always unavailable, or just that she always was around now? "Um, can I help you?" <br><br>Her curiosity piqued enough to forget most of her irritation her smile became a little more genuine. For some reason this got a flinch. "No idea of when she will be so? No? Of course not, I suppose I shouldn't have expected the counter boy to actually keep apprised of it." <br><br>That got a touch of indignation, but he held his tongue admirably. <br><br>"As it is, you probably can help me anyhow. As I said I am from the Hall of Records. We have until recently been under contract with Tal Ul Azmiri — " She watched closely as she dropped the name of, in certain circles, a somewhat notorious intermediary for all sorts of less than wholesome things. No reaction. " — as a procurement agent, but he has of late been unable to comply with the terms and we have found it unfortunately necessary to terminate our relationship." <br><br>She gave a smile as though she expected a response out of this, and it took him a moment before he finally came back with, "I'm– I'm afraid you'll have to discuss this with Madame Lu. She handles faction-related business." <br><br>The smile turned condescending. "Of course. I never expected you to have the authority to sign for anything important. But first we need to know if you are actually capable of succeeding where Azmiri could not before we waste any more time. Now, I just have a few simple questions…" <br><br>The following barrage was downright dizzying as she drifted through, grilling on estimated time tables and subcontracting fees and marginal rates. Half the time she didn't get an answer, but that wasn't really a problem. It did keep his attention thoroughly glued to her and away from whatever Alzeggra was getting up to. And perhaps he would even slip something useful in, although she doubted it. She was growing progressively more certain she had cornered little more than a shop watcher.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MdG</strong> on <strong>16-05-2013, 23:53:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Will of the One</strong><br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>"Yes -" Rysse breathed, her voice a hiss like hot steam, "so it is. The theatre. Where we'll all see the centre of all things, the old wheel hub from where everything's spun, no?" The tiefling chuckled, half-supporting Ihaana and half-leaning on her. "Oh, we'll be there. Count on it - I've heard my fair share of extravagant screeds, Prisine, but it's only once in a while I've heard them rattled off by someone who half-believed what she's saying."<br><br>Rysse arched her back and drew in the warm, humid air. The ridged contours of the skin of Ihaana's fingers felt delicious on the skin of her tail, skimming the juncture between the small of her back and the full curve of her bottom. <em>So rare to find someone who knows how to treat a tiefling</em>, Rysse thought longingly. She'd never wanted - and never tolerated - anyone who could <em>put up with</em> her horns, or <em>pretend</em> her tail wasn't there. No, that would never do. <em>I'm a tiefling, and if you don't like the package, go paw at someone else, berk</em>.<br><br>Her thoughts were momentarily distracted by the almost unnaturally composed presence of Prisine. Vaguely, and in the corner of her eye, she saw a flutter of coloured fabric. A proffered dress - and a glimmer of dyed cloth, flickering in her eyes. It was like the dye was running, cascading in streaks, threads coiling like droplets of condensation. Rysse squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and blinked. "Getting dressed already?" A teasing laugh. It was a shame. Water, perhaps naturally, flattered Prisine's form, infusing her skin with a rich, brilliant glow.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>18-05-2013, 21:42:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Location:</strong> Tivvum's Antiquities, Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Perrin, Alzeggra<br><br>Boxes and bins of junk, littering the shelves, seeping from holes in containers, sorted by the tiny hands of industrious little mephits who moved through Tivvum's Antiquities with a sound like rattling beetles. There was a box of loose bones picked through by something with claws, leaving many specimens notched or ground into dust, but nothing was thrown away. It'd been gathering here for at least as long as old Lu had been alive, and who knew what treasures lay buried there? Certainly not a barmy old tiefling. A place like Tivvum's had an appeal to Hivers and anyone who liked to gamble their time for the possibility of an easy coin.<br><br>But that wasn't the type of customer in Tivvum's. Like the Asmodeus devotee, they were all looking for something in particular. The hired help at the counter needn't offer any sales pitch, no <em>new slaad tadpoles, in this week. </em>Those canny to the ways of Sigil would know Tivvum's as a purveyor of gate keys. Just as every enclosed space in the City of Doors was potentially a portal, every portal had a key, else life in Sigil would be utterly impossible. An example well-known to Sensates and Signers alike was the rearing nic'Epona statue that lay between the sister factions, where a portal between the columns of the beast's hindlegs required only a line from a certain poem and a precious stone clasped to the brow to spirit a blood away to Elysium, or Mount Celstia, or one of the Prime Material worlds.<br><br>A precious stone, perhaps, like a recorder stone stolen from a Sensorium.<br><br>There were many kinds of gemstones being sold at Tivvum's Antiquities, though the truly valuable ones like those needed to traverse the nic'Epona's thighs were not out in the open. A place that dealt with the riddles of the planar backroads attracted a clientele of smugglers, cultists, adventurers, and blighted clueless. And although the hired help was friendly enough to hear Perrin out, there was magic at work in its marble walls. There were hidden protections against theft.<br><br>The shop's protections against snooping, however, were very humble. The tightly-wound spiral stair that ascended the higher levels of the marble tower might be a headache for Perrin, with their tight conservation of space and saw tooth of iron-wrought steps. Impeding Alzeggra's way was nothing more than a velvet rope across the bottom with a sign politely imploring customers to <em>'Ask Fore Assistance.' </em>The showrooms above were empty of customers, but there was someone up there- a crackling, merry voice that might've belonged to Lu.<br><hr><strong>Location:</strong> Lifegiver's Workshop, Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Closed<br><br>It wasn't very far away that Talren's investigation had led him to an address just two blocks from the Great Bazaar. <em>Lifegiver </em>read the sign beside the front door of the two-story building, a wizard's workshop without windows to the streets of Sigil. There was dried mud scraped clean on the front step, and when Talren's hand came up to operate the brass knocker, the door swung inward on its hinges with a squeak, unlocked, unsecured.<br><br>In the darkness there were wooden faces and sprawled marionette limbs and strings. The light from outside glinted off the shapened planes of woodworking tools, and the bronze of a clockwork canary half-buried under an avalanche of ledgers, recipes, patterns, and sketches. Someone had been through here, and they had not left. There was a thump from upstairs as soon as Talren had set foot in the workshop. The sluggish drag of boots made the wood of the ceiling above groan. "Get up," came a woman's harsh voice, "get up, you dogs." Then there was a lot of movement, a lot of thumping and ringing metal. There were two or three, maybe four of them up there, waking like thugs late in the morning still in their armor. They were not Heiron Lifegiver. A door upstairs banged open with violent carelessness.<br><br>Talren knew enough to get out of there. He was not a hero. But he would, at least, have something substantial to share with Alzeggra when next they met.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>19-05-2013, 04:38:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> Tivvum's Antiquities, Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Perrin, Alzeggra<br><br>Alzeggra rushed towards the stairs as quickly as she could remain silent before anyone spotted her.&nbsp; Peregrine's conversation with the man behind the counter appeared successfully distracting, and the Asmodean (known only to her as 'merely a representative for an interested party') had his back to her.&nbsp; Not that it mattered, as the numerous crates, shelves, and assorted bric-a-brac gave plenty of opportunities for cover.&nbsp; The velvet rope blocking the stairs appeared so pitiful a security measure that she softly cast a spell of magical detection before moving upwards.<br><br>There was magic indeed, but nothing on the rope or stairs in particular.&nbsp; The entire shop lit with auras, from protective abjurations to dark necromancy, of magnitudes both great and small.&nbsp; She knew that recording stones emanated illusions, specifically phantasms.&nbsp; There were many different forms of sensory magic: ones which imparted false sensations, ones which drew pseudo-real constructs from the Plane of Shadow, ones which altered existing sensations, ones which existed entirely in one person's mind, and more.&nbsp; One did not get to be a Sensate for long without learning of the myriad expressions of this school of magic.<br><br>A cluster of illusion auras appeared on the second floor, up the flight of stairs and in one of the nearby rooms.&nbsp; Alzeggra doubted that whoever was stealing recorder stones would individually scatter them, instead keeping them in one location for accessibility.&nbsp; It was quite clever to use the shop as a front for hiding stolen magic items.&nbsp; In another location the auras would be noticeable, but hidden among others they blended in quite well.<br><br>The second floor was much more organized than the chaotic jumble below, yet its hallways were small and the adjoining rooms filled with stacks of crates.&nbsp; The dark elf's keen ears picked up the sound of an old woman.&nbsp; She was too far away to pick up specifics, but appeared near the auras Alzeggra wanted to investigate.&nbsp; It could be culprit, or a worker in the shop, but that did not matter.&nbsp; Either way, she stuck to the shadows and approached the open doorway to peek in through the sliver.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>21-05-2013, 06:55:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Tivvum's Antiquities, Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra<br><br>It wasn't long, at least, before Perrin felt she had dispensed her duty. She had been keeping an eye out to ensure Alzeggra was moving unmolested and caught sight of the women slipping towards the stairs, and then a minute later she was nowhere to be seen. Perrin put the dots together, and she hardly needed to distract a clerk anymore if there was no one to keep secret. Hopefully Alzeggra would have more luck in the private areas than the public. <br><br>Peregrine continued heckling or a minute later, idly wondering what next as she did so. Her compatriot was off doing sneaky things in a place she certainly couldn't follow, with undoubtedly a much better chance at finding something upstairs than Perrin had down here. That left her more or less to her own devices, even if she probably should wait around till she confirmed that Alzeggra wouldn't end up needing bailing out. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but if worse came to worse Perrin was entirely ready to buy and bribe their way out of the situation. She could always write it off as a business expense.<br><br>"…and so you see," she concluded to the somewhat glazed looking clerk, "It's really just a matter of we simply cannot work under such risky conditions. I do not know <em>how</em> you manage to stay in business like this, but I will certainly be speaking with your proprietor. Now, fortunately I can point you in the direction of a number of reputable banking houses and other organisations that will be more than happy to underwrite these operations."<br><br>That was a lie, or at least half of one. She knew exactly how they stayed in business after all —&nbsp;mostly by price gouging if she were to be a judge of it, but what good curio shop didn't do that? And with only irregular expeditions a fair percentage of which were probably illegal — every shop in the city did <em>something</em> illegal, a fact all the more impressive for how few laws there were&nbsp;— it wouldn't be surprised they wouldn't be insured, or would not be so that the clerk knew about it. Then again, if they really weren't she might have to return in a more usual appearance. She really did know most of the underwriters in the Cage, and would be more than happy to collect the appropriate procurer's fee for a new client. <br><br>She let herself be elbowed aside, metaphorically, relinquishing the clerk to an actual paying customer. He looked grateful to an almost annoying degree for the interruption, one more minor sin to add to the layout of their premises. <br><br>Granted, he wasn't all that interesting to lecture any more than he apparently enjoyed the experience. Now to give Alzeggra time to work. <br><br>Which mostly meant, for the moment, browsing. It was still for the most part a pleasant experience. Cramped, and someone stepped on her tail hard enough that she had to restrain the urge to bite the woman, but other than that it was more than enough to occupy her attention…<br><br>…and perhaps it even wasn't a waste of her time after all. She knew enough about the place to know it was what amounted to more or less a somewhat higher brow and less useless knick knack shop, with a healthy mix of genuine curios and oddities mixed in. <br><br>She hadn't known that they were quite that pushy about it. She barely even noticed the first time the spark hit her, the ephemera of magic trickling through her with a delicate subtly as it nudged her eyes to fall on just what she needed. When the second hit the entire ensorcellment flew apart. It wasn't much to begin with, a subtle suggestion that no one could say <em>really</em> was mind control, and between her familiarity with such things and the utter incongruity of her happening to need what looked for all the world to be a pen knife carved from bone and some sort of geared thing the purpose of which she couldn't divine left the thing in pieces around her. <br><br>Of course, with such elegant craftmanship to begin with, she wondered how it had picked such poor targets. Maybe it interacted weirdly with her, or more likely the entire thing was still on the experimental side. She placed the pen knife back —&nbsp;her curiosity as to the purpose of the other overwhelming her for the moment —&nbsp;and chewed on her lip as she considered. <br><br>It… wasn't <em>exactly</em> the same sort of feeling one got when one used a recording stone. There weren't any visions or smells for starters, but that would have only fooled the garden variety wizard. Perrin had spent an appreciable fraction of her life avoiding doing any work in a laboratory, and it had paid off. It might not have been a sensory application, but the spark of underlying, for lack of a better term, interest generation, was unmistakeable. <br><br>Of course, it could have been independently engineered, or the result of long observation from times spent in the public sensoria. But on the other hand it could have been the result of a clever idea had while deconstructing, studying, modifying, and reassembling a recorder. At least it looked as though their visit was not going to be wasted. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>22-05-2013, 23:12:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/59/Dustman.jpg)<br><em>Dustman </em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> "Dawn"<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Fei<br><br>Dawn's skin was very warm as she linked arms with Harmony and drew the soft yield of her breast to the modron's steely muscle. There was a clinging stickiness when her bare skin touched Harmony's, of like seeking like, even though they were widly different species. If Harmony hadn't shed her clockwork form so long ago, Dawn would never have moulded to her like this- her skin would stop, just beyond the surface, held back by hard, foreign armor. This was a distinctly humanoid sensation. "Touch us?" Her voice was high and breathy, and she tensed as a virgin would at being stripped naked and pushed into the grasping, orgiastic masses. The fear mixed with the heightened pleasure was more than the petitioner could've asked for, but she would never have had the courage to do it alone.<br><br>There were hundreds of people down below as the trio reached the balcony to the huge open space of the Sensorium's center. Resplendent light glittered down from the oculus twenty stories high to the orientation below, with walkways ferrying visitors to and from the spiraling central ramp. The high strength glassteel of the walkways often gave new Sensates pause, as they were forced to step out onto it and trust the transparency to hold. For Dawn, the hesitation as the three of them slinked together, inexorably drawn to one of the glass walkways. Many of them were lavish with color and bottomed with curving glass flowers and lanterns, commissioned by generous donors. But the closest walkway was, of course, completely transparent. It was an unobstructed view to the crowded floor below. Dawn was trembling as soon as she set tiptoes onto its cool, smooth surface. It took all her effort not to scratch pink lines into the modron's golden flesh.<br><br>That was when the experience peaked for Dawn. The glowing moment when she was on full display to a throng of Sensates, both she and her twin who was accurate down to the anatomical level. "Ohh~" she cooed very quietly in Harmony's ear. "I- I do not know if I like it or not. It is a worthy experience." Her dainty toes left cooling marks behind on the glass with every unhurried step they took. There were young men and women in dark burgundy robes coming the opposite way, students of the planar lectures on break from their studies. They didn't turn aside when they encountered three streakers on the walkway. Each of the students reacted to their nudity differently, with giggles, with sour looks, with disbelief. But they were all looking, and they slowed considerably to squeeze by.<br><br>"I...am being touched," Dawn flustered, a continuous wave of wooly burgundy lapping over her, obscuring what was happening to her. It was upsetting for her, but not in a way that caused her to resist. She was much too polite. She was a river stone, her arms high around Harmony, letting the cloth and the touches drift by without complaint. And she was far from alone- it was a crowded space, and even the innocent students were obliged to touch Harmony's hip or Dusk's flank to press through.<br><br>There was one hand, though, that curled slender fingers up under Dusk's ribs and held steady.<br>"You are lucky, godslave," the gloomy, bedraggled woman's voice spoke from behind the changeling. "This knife will grant you True Death." In her frayed brown cloak she had camouflaged well with the students, but she was no Sensate. The True Death was the philosophy of the Dustmen: the goal of all living things, to escape the tormented cycle of rebirth and succumb to oblivion. For petitioners, that goal was tantalizingly within reach.<br><br>Her ritual dagger was noisy as its serpentine curve rattled from the scabbard, being sharpened by internal grindstone as it went. A scream went up, and the guards responded quickly, but on this crowded and narrow walkway, it would be up to Fei and Harmony to protect themselves- and the very vulnerable petitioner.</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>23-05-2013, 00:06:26</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/d0/Prisine.jpg)<br><em>Prisine </em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Prisine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>Prisine did not move away as her arms went up to let the attendant dress her. She was one sleek line, save for the dark teal hair that drifted from her calm stillness as though there were always water all around her, and only Prisine were aware of it. Perhaps it was the water genasi in her, or perhaps it was the Signer, knowing those gentle and invisible waves into existence. "It's morning now. We've been celebrating for hours- all night." The feather-light fabric of her dress shimmied down and spilled between the bodies of the two women there with her, and she pressed to Rysse so that the attendant could lace her back.<br><br>"It was a good celebration. It was so very good. You both are welcome to stay, and enjoy yourselves." <em>But, </em>that was the word she did not say. "There's a big comfortable bed in the other room- in my chambers. Use it if you have need." The genasi rose just slightly to work the sundress down her long legs, and pool its soft, fresh fabric around where her fellow planetouched were sitting. Aasimar, tiefling, and genasi, the three misbegotten daughters of Sigil's sexual melting pot. Something about that resonated with Prisine. Some of the crashed Signers were looking on Ihaana and Rysse jealously. "The bed was lent by your Factol. It's got a sort of water inside, and an elemental weird, perhaps- it can roll like the river Oceanus if you command it."<br><br>With one last tease of her moist fingertips to feel Ihaana's voice escaping her throat, she stood, a suddenly bright white figure in the smoky din and heaped bodies. She was so very confident in her charms, in her ability to navigate the politics of Sigil and work a crowd, and most alarming, in her ability to wish the dead god Aoskar back to Sigil despite the clear opposition of the Lady of Pain. It was working. Factol Darkflame had invited her cadre in, given them the guest suite, security detail, a place to preach, even while the Signers' own Factol Darius had stubbornly dragged her feet acknowledging the growing movement of the Will of the One within their ranks. "When? Maybe tomorrow, maybe a few days from now. That bariaur woman is handling the, ah, talent portion. I'm told it draws a crowd. We have to wait on them."<br><br>The genasi's attendant pulled a belt and satchel around Prisine's hips and took undue care and attention fastening the buckle low on the disciple of the One's hips. The attendant's hand was snatched away once it was fastened. Prisine was dressed for business, now. There was no more time for free love. "Help yourselves to the drugs, if you're staying," she added. "But mind the burn. The cool bath is going to be crowded if everyone comes down from their high all at once."</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>23-05-2013, 06:44:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fei<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Golden Morning Radiance, Open<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; To be completely honest.&nbsp; Fei hated heights.&nbsp; Falling to your death and dashing oneself on rocks formed from the mess that is Limbo will do that to you.&nbsp; She normally found one of the stairs that held a design, a pattern that broke the dizzying decent below into manageable pieces for her brain to handle.&nbsp; So it was that she clung to Harmony a little tighter than she otherwise block out much of the vertiginous view.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;While Fei had learned a long while ago to be comfortable with others seeing her in varying degrees of undress, she to found the touch of others as they sauntered by as uncomfortable as Dawn did.&nbsp; It wasn’t so much the brush of fabric along skin or even the feathery graze of the back of a hand, it was the grope or pinch that she disliked, but she was a Sensate and bore the experience with as much dignity as she could wondering how the Modron, who seemed not to know what clothing was, could wander around unmolested.&nbsp; Perhaps it was understandable then between the fear of high places and the manhandling that she had not noticed her assailant until and curled along her olive flesh.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"You are lucky, godslave. This knife will grant you True Death."</em><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Fei was shocked at the sudden attack her almond eyes widening in surprise and fear. The rasping blade, wicked in its curves loomed huge as it hovered above its scabbard hungry for its victim. She did not see her attacker so much as the blade meant to open her innards or puncture her lung so that she may drowned in the wine of life.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Xe Na.&nbsp; Sha-ya-too, Koora!” She quickly shouted an incantation to diminish the offensive device seeking to end her life. (Casts Shrink Item – Makes an item 1/16th it’s normal size)<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kunoichi</strong> on <strong>25-05-2013, 05:53:39</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Harmony<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> 'Dawn', Fei, Open<br><br>The sensation Harmony felt when the petitioner held onto her arm was one that she could not recall having felt before.&nbsp; A sensation of physical attraction, almost magnetic in nature, similar facets of their existences resonating with one another.&nbsp; Of course, the comparison wasn't exact, since magnets of the same poles repelled one another, rather than attract, but the attraction itself still felt similar.<br><br>It was interesting to compare and contrast the twin sensations of Dawn and Dusk clinging to her arms.&nbsp; Physically, they appeared to be identical.&nbsp; They looked exactly the same, spoke in the same voice, the changeling's performance was close enough to the petitioner's behavior that the modron's untrained eyes could not detect any difference...&nbsp; And yet, that odd attraction was only present in one of the two women, allowing her to tell the difference between the two by sense of touch.<br><br>Behavior changed once they made their way out onto a transparent walkway, however.&nbsp; Dawn became more talkative, whispering details about what she was experiencing into Harmony's ear, excitement and fear mingling in her voice.&nbsp; Dusk, however, went completely silent, clinging more tightly to her side and steadfastly refusing to look down.&nbsp; Could it be that she was afraid of heights?&nbsp; That was another question filed away for later, when they were safely away from the Festhall and she would be free to inquire about everything she wished to know.<br><br><em>"You are lucky, godslave. This knife will grant you True Death."</em><br><br>The first inkling Harmony gained that something might be wrong was the sound of a woman's voice coming from behind Dusk.&nbsp; A statement about a knife, and death...&nbsp; The Modron was still grappling with the implications when the knife in question was drawn from its scabbard, and then Dusk detached from her arm in order to have her hands free to cast a spell.&nbsp; The knife was shrunk down to a harmless size, a transmutation spell, clearly requiring her to further revise her estimations of the changeling's capabilities.<br><br>Except that revising estimates could wait for another time.&nbsp; Action was required, now, and with one arm freed, the course of action for the Modron was quite clear.&nbsp; Turning, she lashed out with that arm, the awkward position allowing her to deal the attacker a painful blow to the face, but one lacking the force necessary to render her unconscious.&nbsp; It would, however, give the living construct the time she needed to free her other arm from Dawn's grip, and to follow up her initial blow with a devastating right cross.<br><br>"Dawn, get behind me!"&nbsp; With both forearms covered in metal, she could both attack and defend competently...&nbsp; But only because her opponent was similarly unarmed at this point.&nbsp; Perhaps it was time to invest in proper combat equipment?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meikle</strong> on <strong>28-05-2013, 03:37:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Will of the One</strong><br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>"She's going?" Ihaana asked, watching Prisine cautiously.&nbsp; She's let the woman put a mark on her not long before, she couldn't even see it, but she knew it was there now.&nbsp; Perhaps it wasn't the wisest thing she'd ever done.&nbsp; <em>That's no way to live</em>, she told herself.&nbsp; <em>Wisdom's for people who don't know better.</em>&nbsp; She shook her head.&nbsp; "We'll be there," she said, but bit her lip.&nbsp; "I'll," she corrected herself.&nbsp; She couldn't speak for Rysee, after all, though maybe she forgot herself now and then, especially under this sort of influence -- the drugs, or maybe the tiefling's infernal warmth so close.<br><br>"A spellbound bed," she considered with a grin, turning her eyes to Rysse.&nbsp; "Though I'm not sure that..."&nbsp; She rolled her dark eyes, scolding herself for losing her thought -- the fog was lifting, but not as quickly as she might have pleased.&nbsp; "I don't want to get crowded," she whispered, as if confiding a great secret, "And I've lost my pants..."&nbsp; Her thumb traced over Rysse's tail, as far along it as she could reach before returning to rest on the tiefling's bottom.&nbsp; "But so have you?"<br><br>Her eyes cast toward Prisine once again, Prisine who was dressed more with each moment and startlingly sober.&nbsp; "But not you," she said quietly.&nbsp; "You're done with that."<br><br>When she whispered to Rysse again, she did it so closely that she could feel Ihaana's lips moving against her ear.&nbsp; "Perhaps we should be on our way," she said, pulling the thought from the haze in her mind before it could be whisked away.&nbsp; "Before there's a crowd...&nbsp; To my place?"<br><br>It was, perhaps, a blessing that she was too inebriated to appreciate just how bad the idea of walking through the hive in her present state might be.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>28-05-2013, 04:44:35</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> Tivvum's Antiquities, Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra<br><br><em>Nobody's inside.&nbsp; Good.</em><br><br>Alzeggra surmised that the merry voice can from elsewhere, yet very close.&nbsp; She crept into the storeroom, ever advancing towards the magical source certain to be the stolen recorder stones.<br><br>Tivvum's Antiquities was an odd shop, to say the least.&nbsp; Normally the dark elf preferred more orderly and to-the-point stores where she can get in and out with minimal fuss.&nbsp; But anybody in the know valued the store for its supply of gate keys.&nbsp; Any planar traveler worth their salt makes it a point to regularly check back here, otherwise journeying across the Great Wheel would be a much more arduous affair.&nbsp; A brief moment of dread entered Alzeggra's mind at the contemplation of being caught rifling through their belongings and subsequently banned for life, but she swallowed her fears and pressed onward.<br><br>The box stood a precarious position, located high above on a shelf surrounded by three other crates.&nbsp; It would be difficult to move them aside without a ruckus, discounting potential magical security and wards.&nbsp; Alzeggra weaved her hands in a circular motion and chanted the magical words of silence.&nbsp; No sooner than the words escaped her mouth that the room fell into an eerie absence of sound.&nbsp; The breath of her mouth, the ever so slight creak of the floorboards, the distant sounds of customers downstairs, all gone.<br><br>Ordinarily being unable to hear is a hindrance, but Alzeggra was imperative that she would not stay here any longer than absolutely necessary.&nbsp; Unburdened by the risk of noise she climbed the shelf and reached for the top lid of the box.&nbsp; Black featureless recorder stones, unmistakably stolen from the Festhall, were mixed in among various necklaces gems, rings, and various shining stones.<br><br><em>My suspicions proved right!</em> Alzeggra thought.&nbsp; <em>Indeed a thief is using the shop as a front!</em><br><br>She pilfered the stones and slid the top over the crate.&nbsp; Not only did she gain a lead, this evidence could serve as leverage against the owner to cooperate with her and Peregrine.<br><br><br><br>Meanwhile, in the first floor below, the Asmodian crossed over to the counter satisfied with his findings.&nbsp; He <em>swore</em> that he spotted Alzeggra in this little shop of sorts.&nbsp; It made a sort of sense for her to be here, as he did hire her to find a back way into a certain abyssal layer.&nbsp; Even though he himself was working diligently on the task as well, his infernal masters expected nothing less than sublime precision in this important mission: the stakes are too high, the time frame too short to let this rare opportunity pass by.<br><br>And he needed information, one way or the other.&nbsp; He could confront Alzeggra as she came back down, but that might not be good.&nbsp; She might have located a relevant portal key, and stole it out from under the owner's nose.&nbsp; His attention towards her would blow both of their covers.&nbsp; He did recall hearing two people enter the shop, including the naga.&nbsp; Perhaps she was her partner.&nbsp; Yes, it would be far safer and more convenient for all parties if he subtly inquired with her instead.<br><br>"Greetings, ma'am," he said to Peregrine.&nbsp; "I don't mean to interrupt, but I recall seeing you somewhere with my friend some time ago.&nbsp; If you ever do meet her again, pass along the word that Wreng is in Sigil.&nbsp; He needs to talk to her about something important, and he travels quite a bit.&nbsp; I hope she takes up the opportunity at the earliest convenience.&nbsp; She knows where to find me."<br><br>And without a further word he made his way out of the shop.&nbsp; He took quite a risk just approaching her, and even though he made sure his words sounded innocent he did not know if possible diviners lurked nearby.&nbsp; If any demons knew of their inquiries, they would have already acted.&nbsp; Succubi aside, their infamous lack of subtlety made them easy to find at the very least.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>28-05-2013, 11:36:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2d/Lu.jpg)<br><em>Lu </em></td><td><strong>Location:</strong> Tivvum's Antiquities, Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Perrin, Alzeggra<br><br>"It's bad manners to pester an old woman." Though Alzeggra was in her zone of silence, the voice of old Lu was still rolling around the lifeless upper levels of the shop, perchance teasing at the ears of Peregrine below. Lu had the habit of the hard of hearing, of speaking a little louder than was really necessary. "That's because you were short this time. Should've brought me more gems, dearie." It was only Lu's voice, nobody else, and it was only Lu's slippers shuffling upstairs. "Oh? Well, you bring me that one, too, you'll get the rest."<br><br>The shadows where moments before Alzeggra had cloaked her form were flickering as by shaky firelight, though the lights of the upstairs were dim but steady. "It always is, it always is complicated. You're a slippery one. You'll find a way." A jeweler's lens swiveled over Lu's beady eye as she deposited a small handful of polished gemstones onto one of the counters. A plum-colored tongue bobbed through her thin lips as her frail fingers traveled across each stone, gauged some quality from them just by touch, and then inspected the prettiest and sparkliest under the light of the lantern. As she brightened the lantern, her plump shadow was chased to the far wall, becoming the silhouette of a much younger and lither creature. "Hmm, hmm, hmm," Lu went on like a pigeon.<br><br>There was a slow wave of reaction from the little box of gems Alzeggra had her fingers in. They were sharing impulses of fear, crudely, like when a recorder stone went misattuned and the sensations became all cloudy and indistinct. The stone wrapped in shadow cloth in Alzeggra's possession, Nilasa's stone, was one impulse among them, voiceless in the silence. It was like a collective intake of breath, but as told though recorder stones. They were only stones, after all.<br><br>"Her? Her who?" Lu's voice creaked with curiosity, and she looked up from her work. Her fingers closed around the lantern's handle, and as the light swung to the old tiefling's side, her shadow moved strangely, rolling along the wall like an ocean wave, becoming shorter, more rotund, more fitting to the tiefling who cast it. "She has my stone?" The tiefling shuffled without hurry to the storeroom where the drow had hidden herself. In the soundlessness of Alzeggra's spell, the horned old woman slowly cast the door open. There in the doorway was Alluvius Ruskin, with a smile too wide for her shrunken face.<br><br>In the shop below, the carved bone Peregrine had been contemplating wobbled and then spun in place. One of the ripped baskets on the shelves finally gave, and a cascade of old bones sloughed out into a dusty heap. The little pixie-sized mephits swarmed to clean up the mess, but scattered again with a squeak of <em>"Awk, pike it" </em>when the pile clicked and moved. From bones broken into utterly unrecognizable pieces, a clawed hand formed itself, and then an arm, which socketed into the broad shoulder assembled from parts and pieces. The bone pen knife skipped across the floor to join what was becoming a golem of bones, a four-armed enforcer of Tivvum's security.<br><br>The peery berks had already fled the curio shop. The clerk ducked down under the hollow of the counter, and the mephits went fluttering up the spiral stairs. "What's going on?" the clerk called up, "Lu, the golem's been activated!" But there was no answer from upstairs. There was a magical silence intervening. The golem's claws sunk into a crate of junk, and with clearly telegraphed intent, it hefted the jangling mass over its height to throw at the nagini.</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MdG</strong> on <strong>28-05-2013, 21:14:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Will of the One</strong><br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>Ihaana's caress of her tail was at least a dimension better than that fingers not shaped by the aasimar's intensely artistic scarification. It sent visceral shivers down her spine. Rysse gave a satisfied, languid sigh, "She's leaving us," she murmured into Ihaana's ear. Her black-painted lips clasped the cool metal of a silvery ring adorning one of the aasimar's ears, teeth bared, snaring the hard hoop and tugging, gently. Rysse looked up at Prisine, keen eyes scanning the genasi's lithe form, "You're leaving us," a playful chuckle, "said your peace, spoke your chant, spewed your screed and now you're leaving us. But she's right. We'll come. Now that the chant's started, we've got to see how it ends." Her hand trailed down Ihaana's taut belly, the tip of her index finger skimming teasingly into the aasimar's navel. In her vision, the ink stirred, threatening to swallow the dark red skin of her fingers in a swirl of intricate symbols. Webs and layers of meaning densely layered like nothing Rysse's mind - sober or reaching heights beyond the Seventh Heaven of Celestia - could fully grasp. <br><br>"You're right, angel. We'd better let her go," Rysse continued, a little ruefully, her breath close and warm on Ihaana's ear "and I'd better help you back to your kip." Rysse released Ihaana from her embrace and stumbled, reaching out for the smooth, stony surface of the pool's wall for support. It was slippery from condensation - like hard skin covered in a sheen of sweat. "And it won't do -" she smiled, a little conspiratorially before losing her train of thought, "and it won't do at all," there it was again, that elusive thought which had escaped mid-sentence and made her look like a fool, "for us to make it back like this."<br><br>She drew in a deep breath and focused on gathering her thoughts into something approaching a logical sequence. The cascading thunder of Prisine's waterfall was doing her mind no favours. It was sensory overstimulation: the shimmering lights, the humidity, the crashing of water echoing on stone walls. Rysse stumbled out of the bathing chamber back into the main atrium and stepped gingerly over naked intertwined bodies, some still coupling, some simply teasing, exploring, stoking their passion for the next, frantic bout. Her memory was hazy, but she recognised her vest, her dark leather jerkin still dusty from work and her boots, with their distinctive black iron buckles. She swept up her clothing and retraced her steps to find her breeches. They were still damp with sweat and redolent of her passion, soft and creaky in the way only old leather is. <br><br>Easing her way back into the bathing chamber she dressed quickly, her jerkin open for the heat and humidity, the light grey fabric of her vest clinging close to her full breasts and the curve of her belly. Then she took Ihaana's hand - a comforting constant in the roiling sea surrounding her. The aasimar's touch was unmistakeable. <em>I always know when it's her</em>. <br><br>"Remember where those pants of yours are?" Rysse ventured. She was sure she knew what Ihaana had been wearing when the festivities began, but at the moment her memory failed her. "Let's find them and I'll walk you home. The air'll do us good." Nice, cool, smoky Sigil air with the characteristic scent of old charcoal, wet stone and razorvine. <em>How else does a tiefling know she's home</em>?&nbsp; &nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meikle</strong> on <strong>31-05-2013, 10:32:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Will of the One</strong><br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>Ihaana followed Rysse as best she could, though while Rysse managed to make her way back toward their clothes and over and around those who remained with easy, Ihaana instead clung to the wall like it was a dear friend.&nbsp; Her head had been clearing, but maybe it wasn't enough, or maybe she'd taken something else and it was just starting to hit her.&nbsp; The pipe, maybe.&nbsp; That hadn't been the wisest choice she'd ever made, but stumbling back looking for her clothes, she didn't regret it.<br><br>It helped when Rysse found her and slipped those fingers into hers.&nbsp; <em>Rysse was so much </em>better<em> at this</em>, the naked aasimar wondered to herself.&nbsp; <em>I can't even ...</em><br><br>She couldn't even keep a thought straight in her head.&nbsp; She couldn't even find her clothes.&nbsp; She said, "No," and it was true; she stumbled through the mess of bodies and clothes that lay assorted between them.&nbsp; She came away with less clothes than she'd come in with, that much was certain.&nbsp; She pulled on a pair of leather trousers, first of all, the sort that laced up at the front.&nbsp; She'd come in with knickers, though, under her pants -- one of these strangers had peeled them off.&nbsp; She didn't know where they were then, but these pants she had on now were laced and it didn't take long before she gave up on bothering with the ties.&nbsp; They hung open at the sides, leaving little triangles of her tattooed hips on display, shrouded by untied leather strips that dangled down beside her.<br><br>They weren't her own pants, either, she was pretty sure.&nbsp; While she searched for something that resembled her own top, or maybe her shoes -- <em>something</em> more than pants that were just a bit too small and a bit too much of a pain to deal with right now -- she heard a voice from the pile.&nbsp; "Where are my ... are those my trousers?"<br><br>At that, Ihaana cast a glance to Rysse, the kind of look that said, <em>I don't know what I'm doing,</em> and then she looked to the door.&nbsp; She looked back to Rysse and mumbled something like, "I think we should go," and started staggering her way that way.&nbsp; Topless and barefoot might mean Ihaana wouldn't be welcome in a few of the city's establishments, but at least it wasn't the <em>worst</em> condition she'd ever been in slogging through Sigil.<br><br>She heard, "Those <em>are</em> my pants!" and she picked up her pace.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MdG</strong> on <strong>31-05-2013, 13:15:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Will of the One</strong><br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>"They almost certainly aren't, but they'll do all the same."<br><br>Watching Ihaana fumble for a pair of pants that had quite probably never been hers, Rysse could only smile through the residual haze of smoke and water vapour. It then occurred to the tiefling that her mind, addled by Stygian alcohol and Gehenna Thistle, had also let slip the memory of what exactly Ihaana had been wearing. No matter - with her byzantine codex of tattoos, the aasimar was so uniquely expressive that it seemed a shame to cover her up. Rysse willed herself to stand straight and firm while she curled her arm around Ihaana's waist, helping support her companion's weight. Lifting the heavy metallic components of machines had given her arms a certain muscular power, but that was pragmatism. Not the mindless, straining contortions of the mindless strivers at the Great Gymnasium. <br><br>With her free hand, she reached down to feel the familiar hilt of her black-bladed, cold-wrought iron knife, the sheathed blade strapped tight to the leg of her breeches with a dark strip of bariaur-leather. <em>Good to go</em>, she thought. She'd seen berks try all sorts of things - especially when she'd been a little worse for wear. But jumping a tiefling was never a good idea. Jumping one with a quick draw, irritable disposition, incubating a hangover and used to wielding bladed implements with pinpoint precision was suicidal. Still, that never stopped them before. Plenty of bashers in Sigil with a death wish.<br><br>She eased her way through the halls stony corridors of the Festhall, steps at first muted by the carpets and, when they finally left the open area of the Guest Quarters, each tap of Rysse's boots sounded out and echoed, reverberating in the tiefling's fevered mind. At least the padding of Ihaana's bare feet was almost silent - a caress on the stone rather than a hard impact. She was sure her movement wasn't making that much noise. At least not to a sober mind. But with every sound amplified, Rysse was keenly aware of the yawning spaces of the Festhall, the mosaics and vaulted arches of marble, of Ihaana's breathing, of the buzzing insects on the far side of the atrium skittering over polished travertine stone. All sensations clearly defined - incisive like an adamant knife. <br><br>Outside, Sigil's grey, sunless sky stared at her. Smoke and dust, with a clammy humidity that spoke of light silty shower that had just passed, the cracked cobblestones still moist. Rysse paused and shrugged off her jerkin, throwing it over Ihaana's shoulders. It was big for the aasimar, and its straps and buckles hung loose, draped over the indecipherable tapestry of tattoos. Rysse's sleeveless vest clung to her, still damp with sweat and humidity, but the cool Sigil air was bracing. A refreshing touch from the now stale sweetness of narcotic smoke inside. Sharing her jerking with Ihaana was a good compromise - no need to draw too much attention. <em>Now I'm an oxymoron - a tiefling lady-knight</em>, the wry thought would have been tantalising had it not been so ridiculous.&nbsp; <br><br>"Got your bearings, yet?" Rysse said, arching her back and stretching her shoulders, "I'm only asking because I haven't and fuck knows when I will." She chuckled. Even with her demonic blood shielding her from the brunt of most toxins she introduced into her system, she needed a lie-down and hopefully something that was once living and now dead greasy and charred black on a skewer. Tiefling cuisine. The only decent way to end a night exploring the outer planes of your own mind.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>01-06-2013, 05:40:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/59/Dustman.jpg)<br><em>Dustman </em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> "Dawn"<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Fei<br><br>There were screams, but none of them came from Dawn. She was obediently behind Harmony, her eyes shut and her hands on the modron woman's hips as violence elevated sharply on the glass walkway. Though the Sensates had every reassurance that the glass was safe, it was still crossed with care. There were never bodies lunging and striking and crashing into the translucent glass like this, and it was never made to vibrate underfoot like a harp string.<br><br>The dustman's own philosophy had long ago drained the fight from her and the strength from her limbs. She recoiled when Harmony's toned, trained, and superior form struck her. The first blow sent her stumbling in surprise, the second dropped her to her knees. The knife, shrunk to the size of a novelty, was lost somewhere in the struggle. The Sensorium's own security and the Harmonium poured from the lobby below to pounce on the dustman like the body's immune system descending on a foreign body. One of the burgundy-robed students dragged the attacker away when she began to regain her senses, and she slid by the seat of her tattered cloak over the glass. "Petitioner! You only curse her to slavery eternal," the woman called out, but her voice was becoming lost as the Sensates swallowed her up.<br><br>The guards would have her soon, and while they were on her, there would be nobody to challenge Dusk and Dawn and Harmony at the Sensorium entrance.<br><br>"I am sorry for this trouble," Dawn whispered, a tremble in her voice that said she did not have the steely nerves of the other women. She backpedaled from the incident, onto the ramp that swirled down toward freedom. Beyond the lobby doors, the crowds of Sigil awaited. It had stopped raining, and proceeded to drip instead. The ubiquitous hoods had been lowered, the denizens of the Cage had come out of hiding, and the streets were filling with creatures of all descriptions. The moment of being on display was lost, but there was always something else to be experienced.</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>02-06-2013, 10:08:28</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Tivvum's Antiquities, Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra<br><br><br><br>A flash of annoyance rippled through Peregrine as the latest distraction pulled her away from what was admittedly a fascinatingly deft bit of enchantment. And what was this about a friend of hers? She didn't really have much in the way of those, not in Sigil at least—&nbsp;<br><br>Oh, Alzeggra, most likely. Wreng was looking for her, was… he, probably, if this thing was indeed Wreng. Well, at least it left her in peace quickly enough. No harm in passing the message along, she supposed, although she probably would have said that about overhearing a few careless visitors to the sensoria as well. If this turned into another chase across Sigil she was going to just start throwing people down the spire and have done with. <br><br>She turned her attention back to the shelf, just in time to witness the crash. That was… that was new. What sort of pen knife did <em>that</em>? Perhaps it wasn't just some experimental spellwork that had pulled her in in a peculiar way? If the thing was magical, and the dweamor was still a bit of a new thing, and she always interacted weirdly with magic anyhow, well, there was more than enough there to explain some peculiarity. <br><br>Her curiosity piqued, she was just reaching out to retrieve the thing again, carefully picking her way through mephits, when the entire pile started moving. She hesitated until she saw the beginnings of the claw then snatched her hand back. Another half second and the word golem being thrown about was all she needed. <br><br>Turning around in a tight space was not something that was terribly easy for Peregrine, one of the very few areas she'd grudgingly admit bipeds might be on to something with the whole rotate in place thing. Backing up wasn't exactly all that much better, as for all she could make a fairly good clip forwards, the other was wasn't as simple as just reversing all the muscle movements. <br><br>Well, if they didn't want their shop destroyed, they shouldn't have put in a golem. Perrin tensed, then launched herself upwards, hauling her body behind her as she went straight up over the shelves. It was a weird sensation, half a dozen bits and pieces digging into her scales, combined with some ominous creaking from the shelves themselves. She was almost all the way over when the crate hit, drawing a yelp from her as she could all but feel her tail bruising. <br><br>She shot out of the new aisle with the speed and intent of an arquebus round, and very nearly the sound of one as well as she bowled over some wispy looking elf maid and sent her crashing into the shelves. She slowed down a moment later, glancing towards the stairway up. Well, Alzeggra would certainly have heard what was going on, and she was a competent woman by all appearances. Perrin was sure she'd make it out just fine on her own. <br><br>And more importantly, any further assistance she could give would require she stick around the bone golem. <br><br>Perrin sped up, not looking back as she cornered, making for the door. Now she'd just have to make for somewhere quiet, turn back to normal and lay low for a while. She'd found enough for an investigation, even if it probably wouldn't hold up in court, and who knew, maybe Alzeggra had had even more luck than she. The elf might even get out alive if she managed to avoid the golem. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>03-06-2013, 06:54:31</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fei<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Golden Morning Radiance, Open<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; Thankfully Harmony was gracefully prepared knocking the Dustman to the ground and as she was pounced upon by the guards of the Sensorium, Fei breathed a sigh of relief.&nbsp; Her different heart raced in her different chest.&nbsp; Dawn was surprisingly calm in the scattering of patrons that followed, while Fei had adrenaline coursing through her veins.&nbsp; Her eyes were wide and her lithe frame vibrated with fear and excitement.&nbsp; As the guards dragged the Dustman away her call echoed in Fei’s mind.&nbsp; Petitioner?&nbsp; That really should mean something to her, but the life-threatening experience would allow for little thought other than to place as much distance from the insane woman and herself.&nbsp; Fei was too far away from Dawn to hear her whispered concern and with the milling crowd frenetic drive to distance itself from danger it made for a perfect time to slip away from the Sensorium.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; “Let us leave quickly and put some length between the hall and ourselves.” Fei suggested.&nbsp; “I think a shopping trip is in order.” She said regaining a little of her carefree demeanor she had displayed earlier.&nbsp; I know this lovely little clothier in the market ward, Illian’s Prismatic Panoply, she specializes in Sensate clothing.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Losing themselves in the crowds of Sigil was easy.&nbsp; Even their nudity would not be strange in the City of Doors.&nbsp; The rain had stopped which looked like it would save Fei from having to cast a series of Endure Elements and that would be a relief.&nbsp; She did not have an inexhaustible number of spells and being naked would make casting that much harder. She had no potions or scrolls with her, obviously and for the first time in a long time that worried her a little.&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>09-06-2013, 21:11:11</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> Tivvum's Antiquities, Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Alzeggra, Peregrine<br><br>Alzeggra turned around to head out the doorway, only to notice the presence of an old woman blocking passage.&nbsp; Silence was no longer useful in remaining undetected, but if she was dispatched quickly nobody else in the shop might notice.&nbsp; No murder, of course, except in self-defense.&nbsp; That would bring too much heat upon the Society.<br><br><em>Or maybe,</em> Alzeggra thought, <em>she knows more.</em><br><br>She removed a single recorder stone from her pockets, the one belonging to Nilassa, and held it up to the light of the room.&nbsp; It pulsed in unison with the others, like tiny vibrations against the inside of her pockets.&nbsp; The tips of her index and middle finger tapped against its smooth surface.&nbsp; Were she a fellow dark elf, Alzeggra would communicate in the sign language of their people while keeping the silence spell up; most spells were verbally cast, and a noiseless environment provided a good 'neutral ground' when both parties could not trust the other (which is the default among the non-Ysgardian drow, or so she's heard).&nbsp; But this woman was surely not an elf of any sort.&nbsp; Reluctantly, Alzeggra dismissed the spell.<br><br>"These stones belong to the Society of Sensation," she said.<br><br>The old woman did not appear to be threatening.&nbsp; She did not carry herself like an experienced warrior, as far as she could tell.&nbsp; But she was perceptive enough to notice her movements, indicating a high level of perception.&nbsp; Most movements of the shadows, even when noticed, are regarded as tricks of the mind or 'just the wind.'&nbsp; But this shop was too high-profile, too full of rare and treasured secrets, to belong to an unassuming old woman.<br><br>"Recorder stones become inert when taken away from the Sensoriums," Alzeggra said as she walked a step closer towards Lu.&nbsp; "This would decrease the demand of ones stolen and sold outside the Festhall.&nbsp; And most of them are freely accessible to the public.&nbsp; Their value as trinkets and antiquities would be quite low.&nbsp; Why are they here?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meikle</strong> on <strong>10-06-2013, 07:00:16</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Will of the One</strong><br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>"Yeah," Ihaana muttered.&nbsp; "Bearings."&nbsp; Maybe that was an obscure way of saying <em>no, not at all</em>.&nbsp; "I'm not cut out for this," she confessed, maybe not for the first time since they'd arrived at that party (or whatever it should be called, Ihaana wasn't sure.&nbsp; The way it looked on the way out, <em>orgy</em> almost felt more appropriate.)&nbsp; The way Ihaana was dressed (or mostly wasn't) served to reflect that she was leaving such a scene.&nbsp; She'd said <em>thanks</em>, just like that, to the jerkin that was offered (or thrown on her), bothered only to button one button.&nbsp; Rysse's garment was maybe a little bit loose on her, but that was all right; when they got someplace that wasn't so ... public, she'd return it.&nbsp; It looked good on Rysse.<br><br>There wasn't much that Ihaana thought looked <em>bad</em> on Rysse, though, truth be told, though some Hivers might have thought that Ihaana's sense of fashion was lacking.<br><br>Much unlike her tiefling companion, Ihaana wasn't armed.&nbsp; She hadn't been when she'd arrived, and now, wearing little more than stolen pants, she was even worse off than she'd been.&nbsp; If anything awful should arise during their trip back to her little dive, it would be up to Rysse to deal with it.&nbsp; Ihaana wouldn't place a bet on her odds of making it home in one piece if it weren't for her companion -- and that's discounting any ne'er-do-wells or brigandly sorts that might have an eye for the two well-intoxicated women.<br><br>She kept close to Rysse on their way, maybe uncomfortably close (though she'd been <em>close</em> to Rysse on plenty of occasions, not many as public as this.)&nbsp; Sometimes she reached for Rysse's hand and held it tight while she lost her focus, like an anchor dragging on an eager skiff.&nbsp; Now and then she'd let that hold go, fall behind, only to jog her way back.&nbsp; Getting out of the Hall seemed to take forever, but at least Ihaana was regaining enough of herself by then to know that it was just something she'd taken, some potent shot of who-knows-what slurped from a stranger's navel (and she remembered that, yes.)<br><br>She idled for a long moment outside of the festhall, back out there -- it was still hard for Ihaana to think of that sunless sky, no clouds above but only more city as <em>outside</em>.&nbsp; It seemed to her like a strange construct, a city inside of a building that never ended.&nbsp; She remembered skies cerulean and twin blazing suns, red and orange overhead that burnt the skin of the pale-skinned people who lived beyond the temple-city.&nbsp; She missed that heat sometimes, miserable though it often was.&nbsp; <br><br>"Do you remember the way?" She asked while she fished around her memory for directions.&nbsp; "Wait," she said.&nbsp; Her hand found its way back to Rysse's again, though this time she wasn't the anchor dragging them back.&nbsp; The drugs in her system, magic and mundane, weren't deterring her from recognizing the signs of this place where'd spent the last decade or so of her life; she could make her way through this place in her sleep if she had to.<br><br>She started off, through the city; it wasn't a short way from the Civic Festhall back to the Hive, but they wouldn't get back without making the trip, would they?&nbsp; She knew a few shortcuts, too, and most of them were safe!
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kunoichi</strong> on <strong>10-06-2013, 23:44:06</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Harmony<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sigil Streets, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance, Fei, Open<br><br><em>"I am sorry for this trouble."</em><br><br>"This is not your fault,"&nbsp; Harmony responded, when Dawn whispered her apology to herself and Dusk.&nbsp; As the petitioner moved to slip away from the scene of the attack, the Modron followed after her, soon enough winding up on the streets outside the Festhall alongside her two companions.&nbsp; Knowing now that there were those who actively wished to harm the petitioner, she kept on guard, taking a moment to scan their surroundings for any signs of hostility before turning back to Dusk to ask where they would head next.<br><br><em>"Let us leave quickly and put some length between the hall and ourselves."</em>&nbsp; Fortunately, it seemed as though the changeling had been thinking along similar lines, as she answered the question before the construct had even asked it.&nbsp; <em>"I think a shopping trip is in order. I know this lovely little clothier in the market ward, Illian’s Prismatic Panoply, she specializes in Sensate clothing."</em><br><br>"An excellent suggestion,"&nbsp; The modron stated, nodding.&nbsp; A clothing shop had been decided upon previously as their next destination, and since Dawn wished to join the Society of Sensation, purchasing Sensate clothing for her to wear would be fitting.&nbsp; While they shopped, it would also give the modron time to get answers to many of the questions that had built up since she was first introduced to the petitioner.&nbsp; "Please, lead the way."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>13-06-2013, 14:31:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2d/Lu.jpg)<br><em>Lu </em></td><td><strong>Location:</strong> Tivvum's Antiquities, Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Perrin, Alzeggra<br><br>The crash downstairs and poor Perrin's yelp did not surprise Lu. It was the drow's steadfast demand for answers that made her bat an eye. Her laughter was squeaking and not entirely unpleasant. "Oh me, you'll never guess whose lost bric-a-brac turns up when the right hand goes into the right basket. Mysteries of the planes." Though she had found Alzeggra snooping in the store room, Lu waddled into the junk amicably to see what the drow had found. "It does resemble any old stone from a-far." A tremendous crash, as the golem downstairs collapsed shelves in pursuit of Perrin. The willowy elf was understandably upset.<br><br>"You're lucky, hmm, that old Lu has her seeing-glass." With unsteady, gnarled fingers, Alluvius Ruskin adjusted down the lens over her eye. "And that one, that one ehn't mine." The golem downstairs ceased its mindless lumber after Perrin, and responded to its mistress' unspoken command. It shambled for the spiral stair with a clatter of bone fit loosely together, and began to climb. No, Lu was not threatening; like many of Sigil's businesspeople, she left that to her hired muscle. Clawed hands made of bone navigated the curve of the stairs, and the golem's mass almost blocked the stairwell entirely as it ascended with thumping steps. Almost, but not quite.<br><br>"Too many treasures to count in these old boxes. I could no more tell you where a gem came from than can a cranium rat tell you when a hair sprouted. But," Lu said with a smack of her lips, the sound of the corrupt seeking garnish. It was the way bureaucracy worked in Sigil, garnish- the grease that kept the wheels turning, the bribe that ensured all the paperwork would be filed correctly and in once piece. "I know who can tell you. A trade. The stone you brought me, for information." Her cupped hand reached out. The bone golem crested the stairwell, and loomed big and broad behind shriveled Lu. The tiefling's fingers beckoned with supreme confidence.<br><br><em>No, </em>came a faint voice in Alzeggra's mind, while her bare skin was to Nilasa's stone. <em>Don't, </em>the voice pleaded.<br><br>Outside, although Perrin had escaped the golem, she was not alone. At first it was like a trick of the eye, shadows hinting at movements that had not occurred. A long, thin silhouette draped along a gloomy back-alley wall, as though a woman were approaching from the light. But no footsteps could be detected through the din of the market a block away, and when the silhouette's owner should have arrived, there was nothing. The shadows rejoined the unmoving lines of darkness cast by the surrounding buildings. A cold gust of air, like a dying sigh, breezed up from the pried-open grating that divided Sigil's dirty streets from the catacombs beneath.</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MdG</strong> on <strong>14-06-2013, 16:01:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Will of the One</strong><br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>Rysse still felt slightly unsteady on her feet. That was unlike her. Normally, she'd be close enough to sober at this point to do some basic wiring. Then, with a couple of hits of volatile Radiance Salts and some oil of capsaicin, she'd feel bright and perky enough to handle the difficult stuff they preferred tieflings to handle - like sorting out a malfunctioning elemental fire core in a steam drill. She took a couple of deep breaths and willed herself to focus. <br><br>Beside her, she felt Ihaana lean close, the aasimar's hand in hers, with that wonderful, textured sensation circling her wrist. Ihaana's trademark caress. Rysse smiled. <em>Ihaana, the razorvine angel</em>. On reflection, that sounded like a bad festhall song. Or at least not a song sung in the festhalls she frequented. She hooked her arm around Ihaana's waist and started to move purposefully, following her companion's lead through the wide boulevards of the Sandstone District, its high turrets and ornate parapets of the ancient and rain-weathered facades piercingt the skyline. Whether Ihaana really remembered a shortcut or not wasn't really the point. Rysse needed to get back to somewhere where she could collapse and she wasn't picky on the route being taken. She knew enough to orient herself half by sight and half by smell, but the Festhall District was alien to her like the Ninth Hell. Not the place tieflings (that is, the real tieflings and not the sell-outs - who were just humans with horns and tails they wish they didn't have) usually frequented. <br><br>From there, she recognised the vast, circular tower of the Hall of Records, where enormous machines she had once helped fine tune and lubricate kept the hours in a bewildering array of notations, and then, deeper in towards the tortured bowels of Sigil, the familiar scents of the Hive. Molten metal and burning coal from the Slags, dank rainwater, wet earth, soot-streaked stone. The finer houses had now faded into a yawning patchwork of habitations, some hovels, some decayed mansions, superimposed upon each other without rhyme or reason, stretching both high into the sunless sky and deep into the bowels of the sewers below. Her keen eyes remained peeled for danger, but any ill-disposed cutters seemed to have the right idea. Giving Rysse a wide berth was always the right idea.<br><br>"I guess we're close," Rysse murmured. She paused for a moment and stretched, almost letting Ihaana slip from her grasp, before recovering her, "It's somewhere down here, right?" The tiefling knew that wasn't helpful. Orientation in the Hive always involved some guesswork. "My head's got to be pretty addled if I don't know my way round the Hive." Rysse blinked - the alley looked familiar - the houses huddled close together like cold vagrants, the wood and stone dark with smoke. It wasn't the deep Hive - the place where reality seemed to break down under the strain of a multitude of planar portals and otherworldly sorcery - and it was pleasant enough. It looked just right - not like her bedsit in a derelict spire. <br><br>"You feeling better?" Rysse queried, brushing her lips on Ihaana's cheek and temple, the vital flow of the aasimar's heartbeat pulsing under her touch, "We're almost there, angel - 'least I think we're there. Just a little further. Otherwise, if you can't find your way yet, there's <em>my</em> place." That wasn't a promising prospect, even for the tiefling. Between the dust, the smoke, the unmade bed, the spilled alcohol permeating the floorboards it wasn't the most welcoming place after a night out. "And we don't want that, do we?" Truth was she didn't want it. She needed cold water, a stiff drink, and to curl up next to Ihaana. If she'd been in one of her nihilistic moods, her lair would have been just fine. That and a self-righteous lady-knight, preferably from one of the uptight shining-armour sects, to strip her, spread her and fuck her in the hungry, angry way only the self-hating could muster. <br><br>It had begun to drizzle again. Cold, needling droplets of sooty water. She turned her glance down to the cracked paving stones and kicked a loose cobble down the alley. It skittered and bounced, splashing into a muddy puddle. "Shit. It's raining. Let's get inside."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>16-06-2013, 22:39:54</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Alzeggra, Peregrine<br><br>Even with a bruised tail there were only so many things that could match a twenty foot long snake in pure forwards momentum, and most bipeds were not amongst their number. Granted, it wasn't that bad a bruise, the golem scoring a hit that glanced off the angle of her body, and Perrin had the added advantage of being able to simply brute force most obstacles like doors and shelves and people, simply going over that which she couldn't knock over. And of course in all likelihood a golem like that wouldn't pursue her out of the shop. People in the bazaar tended to frown on hostile looking bone golems in her experience. <br><br>And yet despite all that it was a good four or five minutes and several jumped walls later that Perrin finally managed to persuade herself to slow down. She actually probably ended up suffering more from her flight than the confrontation itself, she realised as she looked over herself. A number of scales were misaligned and one or two completely torn out —&nbsp;probably by the those blasted weeds that did a fair imitation of barbed chains — and there were a few rough patches where she had simply managed to abrade them. A significant accomplishment in light of how well lubricated they were usually. There was even one or two spots it looked like she came close to drawing blood. <br><br>But aside from all that she was intact, and if the bone golem had decided to follow —&nbsp;she never had bothered to look back to check, not wanting to slow down for an instant —&nbsp;it hadn't been able to keep up with her once she started taking advantage of all three dimensions. And some of the damage wasn't quite as bad as it looked, she learned quick enough as she shifted back to how she looked usually, some of the scores not standing out nearly as much once they were backed&nbsp;against cream instead of black. <br><br>And yet for some reason, despite her approximately clean bill of health, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that she had overlooked something that was going to come back and bite her in the tail, and probably with some considerable vigour. She chewed on her lip as she descended from the roof she had found herself on, carefully extending her body outwards till she could drop on each successive wall or section of grating. A process far easier than it looked for someone of her bulk, her weight spread over such a wide area that she typically exerted far less pressure than a much lighter human might on any given bit that was supporting her. <br><br>Now if she could just pin down what it was that was bothering her the day could go back to being fascinating in that aggravating yet satisfying sort of way it had possessed earlier. She'd also have to track down Alzeggra at some point. The elf probably would have found something out, after all, but it would have to wait. There was no way at all Perrin was heading back into that particular shop any time soon. She had half a mind to try to get the place shut down, save there was sadly no law, yet, about scaring a customer out of her scales with a bone golem. Maybe tax evasion instead? Everyone was guilty of that, and it didn't really matter what form her vengeance took exactly, just that she was the distal cause of it. Hell, even that was negotiable. In a pinch schadenfreude was better than nothing.<br><br>But that could come later. First, well, hmm. First she was going to get lunch. Then maybe see if Alzeggra had extricated herself from the shop and was easy to find, maybe meet back up at the Festhall. And if that didn't work, well, she could always see about some research into what in the world was going on with that dweamor. Now there was an interesting conundrum. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>17-06-2013, 01:11:52</strong>
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				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em><br></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> "Dawn"<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sigil Streets, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Fei<br><br>The wealthiest faction in all of Sigil were not the Fated, who measured worth by conquests and ownership. It was not the Fraternity of Order who penned the laws that determined the flow of the city's profits, nor the Free League with their claws deep in the coffers of the Grand Bazaar. The heart of Sigil had spoken when it had helped the Civic Festhall grow most glorious, most resplendent, and the Society of Sensation become rich beyond reason. The people of the Cage liked to be entertained. No matter the cost in coin or in culpability, the people of Sigil liked a show. When Dawn's bare toes caressed the cobblestone of Festive Way with the sunless light of the city revealing every shy inch of her, there was nobody to lend a cloak. The crowds stopped and watched to see what stunt the three nudists might have planned.<br><br>As clothier to Sigil's most wealthy and decadent, Illian’s Prismatic Panoply embodied the virtues of the Sensates. The clothes that embodied a Sensate enticed all of the senses. There was a cyan-and-purple diaphanous number with a scent of ground seashell, a coin belt that lent music to movement, a taste of brine and sweet tropical citrus, and textures of coarse grain rest lightly on silky softness. With dual purpose to entice every sense and to leave the wearer open to the sensual world around them, the result was often similar to a belly dancer's bedlah.<br><br>And then there were the clothes that weren't meant to be comfortable. Cilices of barbed chain, animal hair coats, and fabrics of bristling plants with their irritating hairs still intact were staples for Sensates of a more penitent bent. Piercings heated or cooled on command, bondage leather for focusing all sensation through a very small window of the body, and cruelly weighted and barbed jewelry rounded out the collection of the masochistic.<br><br>But there was still a walk ahead of Dawn before she discovered any of those things, and she needed to be led through the busy streets to the market throng. Inside the Festhall it had been easy, within the company of like-minded Sensates. Out on the cobblestone of Festive Way, the Cage was still amicable to her nudity, as even if it wasn't expected, it fit a neighborhood of artists and pleasure-seekers. Out as far as the Market Ward, it became more dangerous. Cagers naturally became suspicious, hostile, opinionated, and with an eye for capitalizing on opportunity. Dawn did not truly know where she was headed as she kept up with the modron turned flesh and the changeling who wore her form.<br><br>"Thank you both for your bravery. I could not complete this task without your help," the petitioner beamed, more excited than truly frightened by the struggle that still had her Arcadian-bound heart pattering. "Already any reward is insufficient." The fingers of one dainty hand tugged on one from the other, low down at her thighs.</td></tr></tbody></table>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>21-06-2013, 06:27:33</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fei<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Golden Morning Radiance, Open<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; And lead the way Fei did.&nbsp; She had noticed how Harmony and Dawn stayed close to one another as they walked, their threesome skewed ever so slightly to one side.&nbsp; Once again she found herself thinking of the strange series of events that had led to her wandering the streets naked with the two beautifully virginal creatures hovering nearby.&nbsp; She felt a little guilty that she wouldn’t make it back to Aella and the twins for some time.&nbsp; The lovely, yet terrible thesbian would surely find the gensei entertaining, but she had taken a special liking to Fei and Fei to Aella and would be worried.&nbsp; She would have to send her a message when they reached their destination.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; They had some way to go and Fei knew enough to know that the market ward wasn’t exactly safe to three young vulnerable seeming women, so she watched for signs of trouble as she did her best to chat with her companions, while giving them time to speak quietly together if they wished. The grimy streets of the cage shuffled beneath their feet, feeling slick and greasy from the recent rain. They would have to wash them before entering Illian’s or the lovely Pureblood Yaun-ti might decide to nip them.&nbsp; Illian was a sweetheart, but she did not abide filth and had been known to bite customers that did not take her shop rules seriously.&nbsp; Fei knew there would be bowls for foot washing, for many of the creatures living in the cage did not use footware.&nbsp; Then there were Illian’s handmaidens there to pamper the ladies and massage the fatigue out of there weary toes while they were made ready for Dawn and possibly Harmony’s first shopping experience.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And if Fei was right it wouldn't be the only first the women would be experiencing.&nbsp; It was hard not to see the attraction between the two of them. Fei felt it too.&nbsp; Hedonist and pleasure seeker that she was, she wondered if it would not be a better experience for the two to explored each other without her presence tainting it for them.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;She smiled at the polite thank you from the beautiful petitioner who seemed unaware of the danger they had left behind and were possibly walking into on the streest of the Cage.&nbsp; Looking back over her shoulder, long dark hair falling lustrous and straight to the small of her back and teasing flesh not her own, she glanced again at the two women.&nbsp; Perhaps eventually they would like for her to join them...<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“I will do what you wish to help you complete your tasks.&nbsp; Someone helped me once.&nbsp; I wish to replay that kindness. There is no reward required.” Fei assured her.&nbsp; “I do this because it pleases me to do so. It pleases me to be here with you both.” She said leading them onward towards their goal.&nbsp; <br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>21-06-2013, 07:42:44</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Alzeggra, Peregrine<br><br>Alzeggra heard the lumbering sound of the golem ascend the steps.&nbsp; No doubt some form of armed guard, aware of her intrusion.&nbsp; It would be foolish to attempt to flee now or start a fight; she did not need to be wanted for assault <em>and</em> burglary, not while she was on suspicion regarding the murder.<br><br>The drow watched Lu's hand extend in anticipation for the stone.&nbsp; <em>No, don't!</em> it said.<br><br>Alzeggra at once made the connection.&nbsp; It made perfect sense for the stone to be "attuned" to this area, this woman, if she was indeed tied to the murder.<br><br><em>What do you know?</em> Alzeggra thought, hoping that whatever was inside the stone would respond in time.<br><br>On the other hand, a recorder stone, even a facsimile of one, was but varied sensations and memories, presumably one of them contained the recollection of this old woman.&nbsp; Alzeggra could refuse her offer, but she'd be branded a thief and imprisoned or worse.&nbsp; No doubt Rachel would be over herself in joy, finally having caught her red-handed in some nefarious deed.&nbsp; And it was certain that Lu (<em>is that what she called herself?</em>) had useful information.&nbsp; Making a deal with the store owner proved the better option for now.<br><br>"Alright, a stone in exchange," Alzeggra said.&nbsp; "But this information must be solid.&nbsp; The Harmonium is highly invested in this case, and I'm sure they'll eventually trace their steps here.&nbsp; If someone's using the store to hide stolen goods without your knowledge, they'll want to question you and put your store under heavy watch.&nbsp; If you're innocent, you can help me in this case and find the guilty party.&nbsp; If you're compliant with the thief, then you'll need every opportunity to distance yourself from her or him.&nbsp; Regardless, I can help you if you have anything substantial to provide."<br><br>Alzeggra tossed the stone to her.&nbsp; "Okay, you made a deal and I accepted it, now it's my turn," she said with a grin.&nbsp; "Someone had to know a lot about this store to know to hide the stones here.&nbsp; Probably an employee.&nbsp; Give me a list of likely candidates, and I'll find out if they're misusing your storage.&nbsp; Not only that, I'll speak in favor of you to the Harmonium if I find the culprit, vouch that they abused your trust."<br><br>"So," Alzeggra said softly, "do you accept?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>01-07-2013, 00:01:50</strong>
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				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2d/Lu.jpg)<br><em>Lu </em></td><td><strong>Location:</strong> Tivvum's Antiquities, Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Alzeggra<br><br>Old Lu's hand snatched the stone from the air with a singular inspiration to move quickly. She made a sound in her throat, like the nervous urban birds of Sigil, and caressed the new bit of junk in gnarled fingers. For a moment she was lost in thought as the small areas of her hands that still retained sensitivity inspected the stone's smoothness and precise shape. But it was a recorder stone like any other, indistinguishable, and once it went into the box, there would be no outward sign that it was ever evidence in a murder or anything other than a bauble of colored glass. There had been something, though- a voice, when Alzeggra had touched it. It was gone now.<br><br>"A Dustman," Lu said finally, seeming entertained to make the pretty young drow wait for her end of the bargain. "She can tell you where the stones come from. Sparkling emerald skin, like a jewel, mrr." Lu pawed at the dark pebble in her hand as she described. "Daughter of a planetar, one of those trumpet-squirts. What do they like to be called? <em>Aasimar. </em>Her name is Qaida. Turns up in the Lower Ward taverns, but it's at the Mortuary where she stays, in the company of the dead. Only comes to visit old Lu 'cause I've got one foot in the grave." Another squeaking laugh, and Lu shuffled from the store room with her patient golem looming dotingly behind.<br><br>"If you want to meet her, there's an easy way. I'll tell you this, young lady, just because I'm being helpful. Cooperative." The stone in Lu's hand came up, and she licked it with a thin, pointed pink tongue like a turtle reaching for a piece of lettuce. "Sign a Contract. Earn yourself some jink by signing over your body post-mortem. Or don't, just tell 'em you want to. The money's good, so you might as well. Buy yourself some nice things, enjoy life, ehn't nobody in the Cage going to mourn us when we're gone anyhow." The new recorder stone rattled onto the counter with all her other recent acquisitions, and with a neat sift of her fingers, its uniqueness was lost. "Qaida's a Contract giver. A driven one. She'll sort you out."<br><br>"My employees, pah! All they do is buy, sell, and clean up messes." Slowly, Lu began to smile. "Although..." she said with the ham of an Elloweth actress, "Counter boy's been awful surly recently. Maybe you've got him running scared, hm? You're fixing to blow the lid off his whole operation." The old tiefling's broad smile could have fit on a much younger woman, the playful, mischievous, minxish creature Lu had been once, untold years ago. There was no clear consensus on how long it took a tiefling to get as old as Lu. "I tell them to put the magic stones in that box, and they do. That's all. Nothing suspicious."</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/db/Qaida.jpg)<br><em>Qaida</em></td><td><strong>Heart of Darkness</strong><br><strong>Location:</strong> Mortuary, Hive Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Closed<br><br><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><em><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">I</span></em></span>n the catacombs beneath the streets, the sounds of Sigil's living tectonic shifts echoed forever in low gravely growls, tinny strums, and the sloshing of dirty water. A shadow could travel for miles invisibly, never knowing more than the light of the occasional bioluminescence, glowstone, or faraway lantern. And if a shadow could not be seen, if it was not anchored to a body, it could travel as swiftly as the wind. The catacombs spun by on its unerring passage, through unmapped and ever-changing mazes, until the shadow came to a gloomy candlelit shrine.<br><br>Colorless light shivered around each sickly white candle, enriching the black of the Dustman's robe and muting the normally dazzling, radiant green of her skin. It was a place of solemn quiet and reflection that the shadow peeked its head into. It was the shadow of a woman, long and elegant and unclothed, but it was not the shadow of the aasimar. A gleaming white skull, animate and hovering, floated close to its mistress as she watched the shadow creep shyly closer. The spines of great skeletal wings stretched from the shadow's slender back, made of darkness, cast by nothing. "Mimir," Qaida spoke, her voice slow, cold, monotone. "Begin recording." There was a sharp intake of breath, and the shadow flowed like surging water into her every unshielded orifice.</td></tr></tbody></table>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>meikle</strong> on <strong>03-07-2013, 07:28:27</strong>
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				<strong>Will of the One</strong><br><strong>Location</strong>: Guest Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br><strong>Time</strong>: Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>Ihaana said, "I think I'll be all right," and that was true.&nbsp; She wasn't feeling <em>great</em> by any stretch, but the walk had cleared her head a little bit, or anyway it had helped her to ground herself back to the realm in which her body resided after so much time lost in the rushing winds of her own drug-addled brain.&nbsp; In that way, the trip back had been like waking up from a comfortable nap: it had taken a little while, and maybe she was still a little groggy, but at least she was awake, present.&nbsp; "My kip is closer, I think," she confessed.&nbsp; Ending up at Rysse's place wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, and even if that place wasn't terribly spacious and if maybe the floors smelled of whiskey or rum, so what?&nbsp; Ihaana had fallen back to seedier places for an evening's respite since she'd reached Sigil, and certainly that part of her life was not passed.<br><br>Ihaana had held out a hand and caught a few of the dirty raindrops in her palm; she was looking at them intently when Rysse's practicality pulled her back from the sky.&nbsp; Some of these drops were so heavy with the residue of Sigil that she could see the specs and flakes they carried in them.&nbsp; When she was Clueless, she lived in a land where the rain only came during the day, and the clouds never hid the sun.&nbsp; She would sit on the high temple balcony and watch the city below, as the rain covered it in a shimmering skin that threw back the golden light of the sun.<br><br>And her kip <em>was</em> closer, true enough: their little dip into the alley didn't take long (though long enough for one alley to give way to another), and then they were there.&nbsp; The door was unbarred and wooden, a few stone steps up from the cobbled alley, one door amongst many in the alley that all entered into buildings built so tightly together that it was hard to tell that any of them had been built apart to begin with.&nbsp; That door led into a wooden stairwell that climbed as well as descended; Ihaana was blessed to live one story below the streets of Sigil.<br><br>The door into Ihaana's flat was indistinct from the others throughout the building (though it had the privilege of being the only one beneath the rest of the building.)&nbsp; She rapped on that door with a practiced, well-rehearsed beat.&nbsp; She didn't have much in the way of home security, but at least she had that little trick.&nbsp; It wouldn't keep out anyone really dedicated, but it gave her some piece of mind.&nbsp; As her hand clasped the doorknob, she reflected aloud to her guest, "Before I came to Sigil, I'd never once had to open a door for myself.&nbsp; Can you believe?"&nbsp; She rolled her eyes and twisted the knob.&nbsp; Those eyes, a deep brown that bordered on black, reflected an untarnished soul, someone had once told her.<br><br>Ihaana's little flop was a sight of peeling paint.&nbsp; There was a jar on a wooden shelf near the door that held the flakes that Ihaana occasionally found on the floors.&nbsp; Most of the den was dominated by two aging sofas and the low table they faced, and the room was still scented by the remnants of the incense stick that Ihaana had left to burn itself out the night before.&nbsp; In back, a doorway led into the bedroom.&nbsp; Ihaana used her place as little more than a place to sleep, a safe spot she could escape to.&nbsp; There was no kitchen, no stove: Ihaana much preferred to pick up her meals when she was out in the city.&nbsp; The only thing she could look to as any sort of pantry was a liquor cabinet that was often home to two or three half-empty bottles.<br><br>There were no windows down there; Ihaana's flat was dark, and it was darker yet after she closed the door behind them.&nbsp; Somewhere, there was a lamp, unlit and doing nobody any good.&nbsp; She didn't strictly need it, but some of her visitors couldn't see without it.&nbsp; &nbsp;She said, "Here we are," and quietly knocked on the door behind them.&nbsp; "In one piece.&nbsp; Thanks to you, I think.&nbsp; I'm not sure I could have made it without you."&nbsp; She squeezed Rysse's hand, the one she'd been holding onto for most of their trip through the city, before letting go.&nbsp; She meant to find that lamp; her eyes would adjust to the dark eventually, but it just wasn't the same.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>06-07-2013, 11:53:03</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Alzeggra, Peregrine<br><br><br><br>There were significant benefits to not being poor. Peregrine had tried that for a while after she had been unceremoniously dumped into the metaphorical wilderness after she first been forcibly removed from her home and it had been nothing but a headache. Having to do genuine work was bad enough, and that was compounded by the fact that she was not a particular cheap creature to house and feed. She weighed in at a sizeable fraction of a ton, and contrary to popular belief she wasn't at all cold-blooded. Most snakes could go months without eating in a pinch —&nbsp;she ate a cow a week, give or take. <br><br>And the morning thusfar had been more exciting than she had anticipated. She usually had rather relaxing mornings, curled up looking at figures, and had breakfasted accordingly. Then she had ended up slithering halfway across the city on what might as well have been an empty stomach. <br><br>Which is where it paid to not be poor. She did not actually make all that much in her official capacity such as it was, so she made up for it in graft. Her tab at the Frog and Firkin was entirely underwritten by appreciation for the catering she pointed in their direction in what probably should have been open bids, given the volume of custom. <br><br>It was only a pity they didn't have any actual frogs — she had nearly gotten up and left the first time she had been there and discovered that little fact —&nbsp;and she wasn't sure what a firkin was, but she suspected they didn't have any of those either. They did, however, have actual plates rather than the trenchers most similar places served out of, and their table wine was comfortably far away from vinegar. Perrin wrapped herself around a table and draped over two chairs as she properly got comfortable, half closing her eyes in thought as she watched the serving staff bring out the half dozen or so dishes and glasses. <br><br>On the up side, it was comforting to have for a while her greatest problem to try to figure out what wine went with a kofta sandwich. The answer was probably none of them, and almost certainly wasn't the riesling she finally settled on, but it was reminiscent of home enough that she didn't care. And lamb was a fairly light meat, anyways. Besides, the alternative would be to have it with beer, and she was hardly going to stoop to that level. Her sisters would never let her live it down if they ever found out. <br><br>She was two glasses in and feeling awfully relaxed when she finally got back around to her recent hasty departure from the curio shop. She had to wonder if Alzeggra had made it out all right. Probably. If nothing else the elf could have played the "I'm with the Festhall" card and wormed her way out, with mostly just backlash from some annoyed senior person who had to bail her out. Perrin would have done it herself, and had the cash earmarked for just such an occasion, if staying around and doing so hadn't involved being within a hundred yards of what was in retrospect almost certainly a bone golem. <br><br>Who put those on display anyhow? What if someone had wanted to buy the skull as a curio? Would the clerk have not allowed it, or would the silly thing have activated to prevent it from being taken? She doubted they would have let an unsuspecting customer just waltz out with it. <br><br>There was also the rather puzzling layer of other enchantments. A certain number of those were to be expected —&nbsp;anti-theft measures, or other scrying magics to spot when a wizard was pulling a fast one, coexisting with the latent dweamors on whatever was magical on the shelves, and a hundred other mingled sorceries. That at least was to be expected from any curio shop worth visiting. The one that had snagged her though was far more interesting. Really, it only made sense, putting in a sort of magical advertising where one could, although why it had snared her as it did was puzzling. <br><br>Then again, they also put a bone golem on display —&nbsp;perhaps the proprietor was simply going senile? <br><br>Possible, although more likely Perrin was just missing something. She was dead certain there were similarities in kind to some of the esoteric enchantments used by certain Sensate magicians, but it was hard to put her finger on how and to what degree. In retrospect it was easily the sort of thing that might have been engineered from first principles by a wizard who spent a lot of time in the Festhall, although put together with the place possibly being a site of smuggled recording stones made that suspect to say the least. <br><br>And <em>still</em> she had yet to&nbsp;fit this back to Harmony, whose equally puzzling interest from the maybe Fated now felt far in the past, for all that it was still the same morning.&nbsp; <br><br>Perrin reluctantly declined a third glass as she nibbled her way through her salad. No sense in making it harder to understand this mess. She took a third sandwich with her as well, working slowly through it as she meandered down the street, no more enlightened than she was feeling before she had curled up to eat. Although better fed, so that was something. <br><br>Perhaps Alzeggra had something more to go on? Now she just had to track the elf down. She sighed and removed her watch, glancing at it. A fair while since she had fled, more than long enough for Alzeggra to have finished whatever it was she was doing and make good her escape. Which meant tracking her down was going to be endlessly vexing. Oh well, nothing for it. She slithered off back towards the shop, loitering half a street down for a while before heading back in the direction of the Festhall. If she didn't find Alzeggra on the way there'd be plenty of urchins making a nuisance of themselves there to get a message through. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MdG</strong> on <strong>07-07-2013, 19:41:29</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Will of the One</strong><br><strong>Location: </strong>Ihaana's kip, The Hive, Sigil<br><strong>Time: </strong>Late morning/Early afternoon? <br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Closed for Ihaana &amp; Bryseis<br><br>Inside the ramshackle building where Ihaana had her kip, Rysse admired the subtle processes of decay all around her. The dusty hardwood, once glistening with beeswax, now cracked with age, splitting down its fine grain. The helix stairwell stretching out like the Infinite Staircase, ascending to a damp and musty heaven above. She half-followed, half-guided Ihaana. The place was familiar, but it looked different in the day. There were interspersed rays of light streaming through rickety shutters, which left the place in a kind of uncomfortable shadow halfway between lamplight and darkness. <br><br>Rysse's footfalls echoed through the halls and up the stairs. An aching creaking with each step. She briefly wondered if Ihaana heard it. The tiefling knew she had an ear for even the most muted of noises. In her trade, knowing when a cog wasn't ticking along like it should or finding the creaking joint that needed oiling was often half the battle. It was either that or the overhang of the Gehenna Thistle. It amplified senses so well she'd once tried to use it on a job repairing the clockwork mechanism of an orrery. In retrospect, that had been a bad idea. The ticking cogs and dancing wires had become colours, the sounds an overwhelming landslide of hues and shapes like the spontaneous art the Transcendent Order sometimes displayed, only for some tiefling kid to vandalise it or the rain to wash the senseless, chaotic brushwork into a grey slurry. <br><br>The knock pattern was familiar. That much she'd remembered and when Ihaana slipped into the darkness of her flat, Rysse followed. She suppressed a bitter snigger when Ihaana mentioned doors. "Me, I had a different relationship with doors. No one held them open for me, but there was a time when I was a kid when a big sodding berk used to say I ran into a lot of them. Explained the black eye and the bruised lip every time. Then, one day, his throat ran into a shiv."<br><br>There was no lamplight and Rysse's eyes swiftly adjusted to the dark. The familiar scent of incense, of old leather and the faintly cellared whiff of old paint. Rysse flicked her tail, hooked it round the doorknob, and closed the door behind them. That had always been a favourite party trick of hers. <br><br>She eased Ihaana onto the cracked leather upholstering of the closest couch and sat down by Ihaana's side to remove her boots. Slipping her jerkin off her companion's shoulders, she rummaged in a pocket and produced a slender metallic cylinder the length of her hand. Turning the top of the cylinder, she revealed a large, silvery insect trapped in a crystal prism, its bloated and distended abdomen emitted a haunting silvery glow, like a firefly but with far greater intensity. Rysse laid the open cylinder by the ashes of the incense stick. It cast an opalescent glow on the peeling walls, lambent like a moon flickering beneath dark clouds. <br><br>Rising to her feet, Rysse felt the pleasant, raspy sensation of old wood on her skin. The ivory light from the glowbug gave her deep red skin, a rich, almost coppery tone. She padded over to the liquor cabinet and chose and inspected an indigo glazed earthenware bottle with - at least to her - undecipherable markings. Unstoppering it, she smelled it and took a swig. She grimaced. <em>Sweet</em>. It was unctuous and muscat-like and tasted far too wholesome to be alcohol. "You drink this?" She asked incredulously. "Tastes like the stuff an aasimar knight of some Holy Flame order or other kept ordering - sodding expensive, too. She ended up drinking most of it. Which I suppose was her plan all along - building up the courage to get eaten out by a tiefling and then fuck her and hope it'd all be forgotten the next day. Nine Hells, once she got going though..." Rysse paused. She was positive Ihaana had heard the story before. That she'd feel sharp, electric little pinpricks against her skin when those consecrated to celestial orders came close or touched her. It was a tiefling's survival mechanism, no doubt, but there were ways to put it to sublime use. <br><br>"And so to bed, angel?" Rysse said. She definitely knew the way <em>there</em>. That and she hoped sleep would relieve the uncomfortable pulsing which had begun to spread in her head. "I won't kick <em>too</em> much, I promise. Tiefling's honour."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>08-07-2013, 01:49:37</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em><br></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> "Dawn"<br><strong>Location:</strong> Illian’s Prismatic Panoply, Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Fei<br><br>It was a rough parade through the Market Ward for an unprotected petitioner in a newly-made body. There was no protection for her toes as they traced the slick cobblestones and found the intimate shapes of lost coins, discarded textiles, bits of velvety parchment and sharpness that needed to be carefully avoided. The embers of an azer's flaming mane had sprinkled her fair skin in white-hot pinpoints, and the ash had begun to soil her just as it turned so many garments of Sigil drab and dark. Most of all, it was the touches of opportunity and the light slaps that left her backside blushing red which left Dawn feeling sticky, worn down, and unclean. It was the more unclean than any petitioner of Arcadia, the tranquility, the Peaceable Kingdoms, had reason to feel.<br><br>Dawn did not realize she had found Illian’s shop when she took refuge under a colorful and clean awning, enchanted to repel the grime of the city and preserve a feast for the senses as gluttonous as any yuan-ti celebration. The curious young woman was only obeying her senses like any fledgeling Sensate as she followed the allure of spiced perfume into the Prismatic Panoply, and found the washing bowls of pleasant-smelling water nestled in the alcoves inside. She baptized herself with small handfuls of water, and dragged her anxious fingers down her slim neck, over the rounded shoulders of a body that had been crafted by a god's aesthetic for absolute femininity. A day before she would not have deigned to touch herself this way in private, let alone in public, and with the handmaidens of the shop taking notice. Now she felt sensual, and alive, and her fingers were drawn across every inch of herself to scrub clean.<br><br>"There are so many things to experience," she shivered, chill now that sweet water was trickling down her limbs and cooling her narrow back. "I fear I will not remember it all." It was much more of the water than was customary to wash with, and as the ash cleansed from Dawn's skin, she took on the floral citrusy scent. She knelt down, and passed the water up and down her silky legs, between each toe with a politely restrained delight. Her nudity and newness were brought into stark focus, and the tease of a feathery garland against her glistening skin was only making it worse.<br><br>It was a gorgeous business. Dawn could not stop her lashes from fluttering as she took in all the cloth textures that called out for a hand to touch, all the expensive tastes that promised to completely reinvent her as a Sensate. The handmaidens seemed to be watching the three of them, and in her shyness the petitioner drew her slippery wet body to her identical twin. "They are looking at us in a peculiar way," she whispered.</td></tr></tbody></table>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Skynet</strong> on <strong>17-07-2013, 00:02:28</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Alzeggra<br><strong>Location:</strong> Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra<br><br>The Dustmen.&nbsp; Another complication in an already complicated case.&nbsp; Contrary to popular belief outside the Cage, murder in Sigil didn't usually involve a labyrinthine power struggle.&nbsp; Lots of times, it was some folk out for revenge after being cheated in business, or a crime of passion fueled by too much alcohol.&nbsp; And after the Faction War, the Lady has been very intent on keeping the peace, at least in regards to preventing any one group from claiming the city.<br><br>"Thank you for your help," Alzeggra said to Lu.&nbsp; If you learn anything else that is useful, contact me.&nbsp; My name's Alzeggra.&nbsp; Giving out a name was risky, yes, but she figured that if Lu really wanted to find out, she would eventually.&nbsp; She made her way downstairs to find a scene of chaos, a trail of overturned shelves and broken pieces of glass and trinkets making its way towards the front door.<br><br>A brief twinge of panic made her jump.&nbsp; <em>Where is Peregrine?</em> she thought.&nbsp; The scales of the Naga mixed with the other broken material.&nbsp; Alzeggra diligently collected as many as she could find and put them in a container in her Bag of Holding.&nbsp; Others would soon come to see the disturbance, and the scales would make a good focus for scrying magic.&nbsp; <em>She can thank me later.</em><br><br>Alzeggra chatted with an apprentice Dustman named Julia several years ago.&nbsp; The relationship was brief and strictly business about a planar jaunt to Orcus' realm in the Abyss.&nbsp; The drow briefly contemplated if she could use her as an avenue into accessing the moratorium.&nbsp; Possibly.&nbsp; But first she'd track down Peregrine and assess the situation to coordinate efforts.<br><br>It didn't take long for her to find the Naga.&nbsp; A scrying spell on the scales proved quite useful, and she recognized the landmark as being in the Market Ward.<br><br>"Enjoyed a good breakfast, I see," Alzeggra said as she met Peregrine heading in her direction on the street.&nbsp; "You'll be happy to know how much I found out."<br><br>She told Perrin of what she saw, in but first made sure that nobody was listening in too closely.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>17-07-2013, 06:21:58</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/Fei-favorite_avi.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fei<br><strong>Location:</strong> Illian’s Prismatic Panolpy, Market Ward, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Golden Morning Radiance, Open<br><hr>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Fei really should have stopped Dawn and for a moment she almost did, but the sight of such a perfect creation bathing the dirt and smile from her body caused her pause.&nbsp; She should feel guilty about watching her “twin’s” hands explore her golden skin and how the trickle of water ran in little between her breast and down the flat plain of her abdomen and the beads of glimmering light be-speckling her smooth shoulders and arms, like she was embedded with rhinestones of light, but she didn’t.&nbsp; It was watching a beautiful bird hatching fully grown and graceful from its egg.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“You do not have to remember it all.&nbsp; The memory stones will record your sensations exactly as you feel them now.&nbsp; You just have to remember which memory it is and it will do the rest.&nbsp; It is quite easy really.&nbsp; The hard part is experiencing the event yourself.&nbsp; That is why Sensates are so important.&nbsp; We are willing to experience what others are not and share those experiences with others.” Fei explained.&nbsp; She was sure there were others infinitely more qualified than herself to do this, but she was doing her best.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp;Fei looked to the handmaidens having momentarily forgotten about them in favor of answering Golden Morning Radiance’s question. They were staring somewhat confused and amused. “Oh, yes. Um…the basins are typically used for bathing feet and they are here to wash them for us, they are unused to having someone do it themselves.&nbsp; Please sit.” Fei instructed Golden Morning Radiance and motioned to the decadently cushioned bench behind the basins.&nbsp; “And if I am to be fitted properly I should probably look more like myself,” Fei decided blurring into the form she choose to wear most. Her chosen form was not so different in body structure than that of Golden Morning Radiance.&nbsp; She was slight and preferred her hair long and dark.&nbsp; They had almond shaped eyes and slender builds, but that was where their similarities ended.&nbsp; The sun-kissed skin that was Golden Morning Radiance’s faded and paled like paint washing from a marble statue.&nbsp; Fei’s breasts filled and rounded as did her hips.&nbsp; She wasn’t exactly as Golden Morning Radiance had seen her the first time, Fei was never exactly the same, but in this case the changes were subtle and only noticeable on close inspection.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Fei took a seat on the cushion next to Golden Morning Radiance, placing her small delicate feet into the cool water of the basin and inclined her head to Illian’s handmaidens letting them know she was ready for them.&nbsp; Fei indicated that Golden Morning Radiance should do the same and by the time she would look down again the water in both of their bows was pure and clear, devoid of the sludge she had washed from her body. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“The massage is worth travelling here on foot.” She assured her travelling companion even though she knew the girl would have no idea what a foot massage was.&nbsp; Fei didn’t want to spoil the surprise. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: (Planescape Femslash) Civic Festhall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>frost rose</strong> on <strong>21-07-2013, 08:01:21</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Peregrine<br><strong>Location:</strong> Market Ward and the environs, Sigil<br><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra<br><br>In the end it wasn't even Peregrine that had to do any work to end up finding her erstwhile companion. All in all, the best outcome she could reasonably have expected. That combined with the&nbsp; languid feeling she got whenever she ended up eating well —&nbsp;there were some habits no snake could shake off, really —&nbsp;she was feeling rather well-disposed. <br><br>"I didn't have on earlier, and you were busy." She shrugged, her palms outspread in front of her. Or one of them, anyhow, the other still holding her sandwich. <br><br>The rather calm pace of slithering through the streets with Alzeggra was rather relaxing as well, a major shift from the rapid burst of speed of earlier. Still enough of a clip to put them out of the market quick enough after she realised that Alzeggra meant them to speak at least mostly privately. Too many knew her there, and were keen to know what she was interested in. <br><br>The sun was getting warmer too, or what passed for it at any rate. The mishmash of a thousand architectural styles making for shadows that never covered all that much, save in the back alleys and overhands, and even moving it was giving her a pleasant tingling sensation as she kept up pace with the elf.<br><br>She was most of the way through her sandwich by the time Alzeggra was finished, finishing it off in a which few bites once it was clear she was needed for more than murmured affirmations to keep the conversation going. <br><br>"Well that does sound like an adventure," she said, glancing down at Alzeggra. A moment's pause then she wrinkled her nose. "It occurs to me then that the bone golem is probably your fault. It <em>did</em> seem peculiar that it just woke up when I was doing, well, almost nothing at all out of the ordinary." <br><br>At least it meant that in retrospect it probably wouldn't have ended up following her. "More leads than we know what to do with now, though. The shop is loaded with magic that may or may not have been derived from the stones, or just a wizard who likes poking their nose around the Sensoria a little too much. And now…" She puffed her cheeks as she blew a breath out. "Well, the Dead." Another nose wrinkle. She had never liked the Dustmen very much —&nbsp;who could get along with someone whose transcendentalism brought them to reject the obviously intuitable notion of self? If you couldn't agree on <em>that</em> there was simply no room for anything like a sensible dialogue. <br><br>"I suppose we'll have to talk with them sooner or later. Although we can always check with that clerk first, if he's running scared." She paused as she thought for a moment. "There are a number of gangs we're on good terms with. They make half their coin keeping the peace for our carnies or anything else we have going. We could see if one of them can drag him in so we can have a chat in a more private setting." <br><br>Everyone was always more willing to talk about sensitive things, in her experience, after being hauled to an unfamiliar location with a bag over their head and a few new bruises. 
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