🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Honeycrisp on 15-04-2017, 23:14:42</h2>
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				Title: <strong>🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Honeycrisp</strong> on <strong>15-04-2017, 23:14:42</strong>
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				<div align="center">(https://68.media.tumblr.com/1abe5b252f9950b791b802ebc37342b6/tumblr_oogx1ungJU1tppytvo1_540.jpg)&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; (https://68.media.tumblr.com/9cbeca81d0d6bc4dfd94c215d95b0df1/tumblr_oogx2qJ22W1tppytvo1_540.jpg)&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; (https://68.media.tumblr.com/fb8e81af3812c8c2e7bdef1701054f50/tumblr_oogx3h3gCq1tppytvo1_540.jpg)</div><br>The Great Room of the One-Night Bride has two separate entrances to accommodate the privacy levels require by their clientele.&nbsp; &nbsp;For those who wish the status of being seen as able to afford and sophisticated enough to be permitted there is a public entrance off the Bazaar, flanked by discrete guards who draw velvet ropes aside as the client approaches.&nbsp; For those who desire a more discrete entrance, the hookah bar adjacent to the One-Night Bride offers a private entrance from the inside of a private smoking room.&nbsp; Simply order the Marrakesh Gold and the customer is brought in with full privacy. <br><br>Light music plays at all times and wards in the room reduce conversation to mere buzzes after a few yards.&nbsp; Fresh flowers brought in every day and simmering pots of spices and oils give the air an exotic and spicy smell.&nbsp; The lighting is subdued but sufficient for normal humans to see without struggle.&nbsp; One wall is a living green wall, covered with vines, moss, and flowering plants and water trickles down the stone wall into a low pool at the bottom that is filled with tiny exotically colored fish.&nbsp; Custom has it that valuables thrown into the pool in honor of the Brides and Grooms services come back three fold to the donor.&nbsp; Rumor also says that anyone other than the Brides or Grooms who removes anything from the pool will suffer a curse.<br><br>Decorated in a Middle-Eastern and Asian fusion style, there are numerous sitting areas for both couples and larger groups.&nbsp; Wide benches offer room for couples to cuddle and discuss the coming intimate moments.&nbsp; For those who prefer, pillowed floor seating is offered in another area. Cunningly placed drapes and divider screens allow a customer to select any level of privacy they desire and though light contact is allowed, full on sexual activity is actively discouraged and guests are escorted to areas more appropriate to their needs.<br><br>Wait staff of both sexes circulate to provide drinks, light foods, and any other items that might be desired with the exception of themselves; they are not permitted to engage in erotic or even flirtatious contact.&nbsp; <br><br>Brides and Grooms spend much of their time in this room, greeting clients both scheduled and those without appointments in hopes of securing a contract for their exquisite and highly sought after services.&nbsp; <br><br>From the Great Room there is direct access to:<br><br><span class="bbc_u">Miscellaneous IC Threads</span><br>The Bazaar <em>(the area outside the brothel)</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266265.0)<br>Behind the Curtain <em>(Staff business)</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266388.0)<br>Production Crew <em>(Staff Lounge)</em><br>Dressing Room <em>(Bride/Groom Lounge)</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266271.0)<br><span class="bbc_u"><br>Socializing Areas <em>(preludes to sexy times)</em></span><br>Great Room (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266080.0)<br>The Casbah <em>(The Restaurant/Bar)</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266114.0)<br><span class="bbc_u"><br>Socializing Area (<em>sexy times can occur)</em></span><br>The Oasis <em>(The Inner Courtyard &amp; Pool)</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266116.0)<br>Madame’s Delights <em>(BDSM Room/Dungeon)</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266117.0)<br>The Vestal Virgin <em>(More romantic/innocent themes)</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266383.0)<br>Magic of Mirrors <em>(for those who want to ‘perform’ for an audience / watch)</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266384.0)<br><br>Thus, the Great Room serves as a hub for access with most other rooms radiating off of it.&nbsp; Recognizing that sometimes clients may not wish to traverse across the Great Room, Madame Celeste has secured, at no small expense, a system of magical portals that may be summoned by simply speaking one's wishes aloud.&nbsp; However, security authorizes each request and will not allow someone to be transported to an area where they do not belong.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>19-04-2017, 05:20:32</strong>
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				<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DpdYCtn.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Mr. Jeffrey</strong><br><br><strong>STAFF</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Opening the One-Night Bride for the evening's business<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>It was dusk, and the heat of the day was rapidly subsiding into the coolness that would become the evening's chill.&nbsp; Inside the Great Room of the One-Night Bride, the temperature was always comfortable, regardless of the temperatures preferred, and Mr. Jeffrey, for one, was thankful for it.&nbsp; The proper attire that Madame Celeste required from her staff, while quite to his taste, was rather uncomfortable in the Bazaar's daytime heat.<br><br>Mr. Jeffrey made his final rounds, checking that all was in readiness -- the waiters and waitresses were in their formal dress, crisp tight pants, white crisp shirts that were tailored to suit their forms, whether it was best to reveal or conceal, bow ties, jet black jackets, little serving towels upon the waiters arms, mithril gilded trays for serving ... the waitresses in their short, black skirts with frills, net stockings, frilly aprons that were designed to make the best of their assets ... all as Madame liked it.<br><br>Very good.&nbsp; It never boded well when Madame felt the staff were not paying proper attention to the niceties, and she or Ms. Makropoulos would find ways to make his life most unpleasant if he let them slip by his watchful eye.&nbsp; <br><br>Mr. Jeffery snorted.&nbsp; As if that would happen.&nbsp; There would be a howling blizzard upon the city and snow piled above the doorways before he let that happen.<br><br>With a crisp little nod of his head, he signaled that all was in readiness to receive their guests.&nbsp; Soon the courtesans, the brides and grooms as Madame Celeste insisted upon calling them, would be making their way through the Bride, offering up their delights to those who had come to sample them.&nbsp; <br><br>The soft notes of music sounded in the air, though there were no musicians visible, no instruments.&nbsp; The song was called, he believed, Nocturne, and it was one of Madame's favorite opening arrangements, inviting without overwhelming conversation.&nbsp; Later in the evening, once things were in full swing, live music would be performed, along with livelier tunes through the Bride's innate magic.<br><br>Things were much better since the magical suppressants were installed, allowing only certain magics pursuant to the Bride's business be cast, courtesy of small stamps upon the backs of guests hands that would last until the dawn, or until they left the Bride's environs.&nbsp; Then, they would disappear without a trace -- another of the club's enhancements that Mr. Jeffrey thoroughly lauded.<br><br><em>"Open the doors,"</em> he instructed one of the security staff, and it was done.&nbsp; Mr. Jeffrey stepped forward with a small, professional smile, his white-gloved hands clasped demurely over his baton.<br><em><br>"Welcome to the One-Night Bride," </em>he said to those early arrivals who had been waiting upon the doorstep. <em> "We offer the best kind of wedded bliss here - that which does not grow demanding and strident over morning tea, but rather delights from sundown until sunup.&nbsp; Come in, come in, and see if I do not speak the absolute truth!"</em><br><br>He said one of the same seven things, in no particular order, each night when the doors were opened, depending on which took his fancy, though occasionally he had been guilty of accepting a bribe in exchange for helping a frequent customer win a bet from some gullible newcomer.&nbsp; Yet whichever he said, it was always delivered with panache, and his habitual mostly sincere smile.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cold Heritage</strong> on <strong>19-04-2017, 06:12:17</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/e0/ONB_-_Thyrnir_Bjornstruck.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Thyrnir Bjornstruck (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13127938#msg13127938)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Thyrnir the adventurer returns from walking the planes, his purse heavy with his share of the spoils from the hoard of the Chaos Dragon Xardion!<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr>After a successful adventure, there was nothing Thyrnir loved better than to spend an evening and ample lucre at the One-Night Bride, but there were things he needed to see done before he could enjoy himself. In order to maintain his good standing with the Adventurer's Guild, Thyrnir visited a crotchety old accountant and pay his guild dues and several months advance. They always seemed to increase every time he returned. Then there was the matter of depositing twelve percent of his earnings in the Bazaar's foremost bank. After that the matter of hiring someone to travel to his home with another twelve percent for his family. Sometimes his family sent letters, but this time there were no missives waiting Thyrnir. It was for the best, anyway.<br><br>So by the time all of this was done, Thyrnir missed Mr. Jeffrey opening the One-Night Bride. In the past, Thyrnir had been one of the fleeced newcomers, but he bore no ill-will for it. He had taken it in stride and with good cheer, and the experienced clients who had fleeced him returned it by paying for the novice adventurer's drinks those nights.<br><br>Thyrnir Bjornstruck smiled as two guards drew aside velvet ropes as he approached the One-Night Bride, brimming confidence and good cheer brought on by a deep draught from the chalice of victory. So many said it could not be done! So many said that the Chaos Dragon Xardion was an invincible foe! But Thyrnir knew better. He knew that there was no such thing as an invincible foe. For had he not seen with his own eyes the Legend struck down by Araghast the Grey upon Geddon, the Wall of Death? Aye, Thyrnir had beheld with his boy's eyes the end of an era as Araghast dealt that mortal blow. But so too had he seen Araghast, having spent the last of his might, fall to his knees, his life's blood staining the stones of Geddon. Thyrnir shook his head. Those days seemed so long ago now - a trick of the planes. Thyrnir thought, in bouts of nostalgia or melancholy, that the planes had stripped him of his time. How else to account for spending an age fighting in the Blood War, and returning to find that only days had passed in the Bazaar? Or to spend a handful of hours at foot of the path to the Gates of Paradise, and find months had passed by? <br><br>Thyrnir plucked a pair of golden coins bearing the visage of some monarch he did not know, and tossed one to each guard. The blond adventurer gave each a courteous nod and carried on into the Bazaar, trying to shake away the past.<br><br>The sound of the light music and the exotic scent of the interior gave the adventurer pause. It always did whenever he returned from a journey out into the planes. Always Thyrnir believed that he would not react like a callow youth, stunned by the splendor of the One-Night Bride. Always Thyrnir was wrong. He was, perhaps, not so overwhelmed as upon his first half-dozen visits, but this place evoked a wonder in Thyrnir that demanded pause and appreciation for what those who worked in this place wrought. <br><br>Thyrnir smiled and tried to place the different spices and oils as he made his way to the living green wall. He was able to place a few, but there were always several scents that stymied him. It was a good mystery. <br><br>The youthful adventurer glanced down at the fish that swam in the low pool at the base of the wall. He knelt down and his hand went to a bulging leather pouch at his belt. Thyrnir carefully opened the drawstring, and he withdrew four rubies. Each had more polished facets than Thyrnir could easily count, and each was the size of a large hen's egg. Thyrnir carefully placed each stone into the pool so as not to disturb the fish who swam beneath the water's surface. Then with the same great care he drew shut the drawstring on his pouch and returned it to its place on his belt.<br><br>The wait staff were out, and Thyrnir's eyes glanced over them. He sought out, in particular, one waitress. Then his eyes lit up as he found her, and Thyrnir's long legs carried him to her.<br><br>"Tzacsha," Thyrnir said with an easy smile and breathless tone. His blue eyes fell upon the waitress and he took in her form with undisguised appreciation. Tzascha was his favourite waitress, though she was untouchable - both by the rules of the Bazaar and for other reasons. The Aes were only children of ice, but whatever race Tzascha belonged to . . . she was the ice. The air around her misted, her frozen body exuding cold. She was so cold that touch her would burn! Even for one of the Aes, who laughed at ice and danced naked in the snow. If it were not for the rules of the Bazaar, Thyrnir would have accepted the harshness of that cold and caressed a crystalline cheek. At least, were it welcome. <br><br>But it was not. Tzascha turned her head, and snowflakes and bits of ice made a tinkling sound as they fell from her hair. Recognition bloomed in her eyes, and Tzascha glanced for a moment to the floor.<br><br>"Greetings, and welcome to the One-Night Bride." Tzascha said, feigning a lack of recognition. Thyrnir did not mind. From her heart of ice, this sparing of his feelings was as much as he could expect. Thyrnir's mouth quirked up into a boyish grin. <br><br>"It is a fine place." Thyrnir said, and glanced about. He hooked his thumbs into the broad leather belt at his waist, and his gaze returned to Tzascha. "Perhaps I might trouble you for a bottle of Lentrian Red? And a wooden mug, please." The adventurer asked softly. The waitress nodded, and Thyrnir made his way to a table with padded chairs near the middle of the Great Room. He sat down, and glanced about the room. One of the things that Thyrnir enjoyed was the variety of people here. There were so many different races! Of course, Thyrnir's gaze did not linger long upon anyone - he had learned this lesson the hard way: once he had stared too hard at someone of a race that blended dragon and demon and later in an alley Thyrnir had found his ribs a sheathe to a wave-bladed knife of polished obsidian. But Thyrnir proved that he was made of sterner stuff and was the victor that night. <br><br>His gaze settled upon the table in front of him and he let himself become swept away by the music. Soon enough Tzascha returned with his wine and the wooden mug he requested. Of course the One-Night Bride had fine crystal - and finer wines! But Thyrnir drank Lentrian Red from a wooden mug. He had tried, once, a wine served in crystal from one of the Seven Heavens made from grapes grown in the Fields of Elysia, but it had not pleased him. Thyrnir could not explain why. The fault lay with him.<br><br>Thyrnir glanced at the bottle, and then at Tzascha. He smiled to her, and placed a heavy platinum coin on her serving tray. It was much more than the wine was worth, some dozen or more times over. Tzascha dipped her head at Thyrnir's generosity, and she was already off to serve another patron when Thyrnir grasped the neck of the bottle and brought it to his mouth. Thyrnir seized the cork in his mouth and pulled it free, then spat it onto the table. The adventurer poured his mug full of wine and then paused, picking a piece of cork out from between his teeth. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Capone</strong> on <strong>19-04-2017, 15:01:52</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/callmecapone/Setting%20and%20RP/c35e5c8d72d34eb82d71873cb47124bf.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Antonio Cabrello (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129139#msg13129139)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> What's this? A secret code? A secret passage? A delightful new location?<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br><em>"'Speak up, this instant! What's gone into your head?'<br>The mother cried to Jack, not knowing he's dead!"</em><br><br>Antonio's fingers danced along the strings into a flurry to end the song, all accompanied by the laughter of his rather jovial and rotund client. The wealthy man had requested he and his fellow entertainers join him at the Hookah Bar, paying not only for their services but for the fine flavors of tobacco and opiate. Given the laughter of his good percussionist companion, he could guess which substance he had been absorbing the most of.<br><br>"Good show, good show!" the plump gentleman clapped, the hookah pipe clacking against the rings squeezing tight over his sausage fingers. Sir Grumrump, Antonio recalled, and evidently a long time fan of their music and tumblings. "I do love such tragic comedy."<br><br>"And I have plenty more to offer, my good sir," Antonio grinned with a nod, one of his dreadlocks falling over his shoulder. He then leaned back upon the pillow, his hindquarters beginning to feel the numb tingle of having been cross-legged for too long. This was a good opportunity to earn some good coin, but how many toes would he willingly give just to stand for a moment.<br><br>"Indeed," Grumrump nodded, pulling heavily on his hookah. His smooth shaven chins trembled as the man suddenly exploded into a coughing fit, having inhaled too much of the delicious smoke. He wore nothing but a vest and harem pants, exposing his smooth bulk and the deep cavernous naval to the world. "I might have a fancy to hear the one of the fat madam whose corset burst on her and killed her client." Antonio kept his sigh internal as he sat forward, preparing his fingers to the lute. A sudden expression of epiphany struck the fat sir, however, who then began to wave and gesture for service. Antonio quietly waited, watching as a smiling servant, head cleanly shaven, approached and bowed before Grumrump.<br><br>"Is the, um... Marrakesh Gold ready yet?" the plump man asked, his heavy breaths betraying his efforts to discretely whisper. The servant nodded, reaching their hand beneath Grumrump's arm to begin helping him to his feet.<br><br>"Ah, let me assist," Antonio called, eager for any opportunity to be standing at this moment. The floor swayed slightly beneath him, what little opiate he had inhaled already betraying him, swinging his lute to his back in a manner that felt like a natural counter-balance to the floor beneath. Yet Antonio had been far deeper in his cups and still walked and performed with expertise. No slight tilting of the earth beneath would throw him off his game so easily. He jogged about the circular room, grasping Grumrump's flabby arm and helping to hoist him to his feet.<br><br>"Good show, lads!" the wealthy plumper smiled, slapping each on their backs. "In fact, Antonio," he said, slapping the entertainer on his smooth chest, "you shall come and enjoy! You treat me so well, and I'm sure all that glitters in the Marraketh Gold will shine all the more bright for one such as you."<br><br>"As it must, sir," Antonio nodded, agreeing. He fell into step behind the fat man, though his eyes looked back to his companions and the rest of Grumrump's entourage. "But what of the rest?"<br><br>"Ah, their time shall be in <em>due</em> time, my lad," Grumrump said, the smile on his face apparent in his voice. "Tonight, I share this special treat, a master and his favored musician."<br><br>Antonio and his customer were led through dimly lit halls that he had always assumed were for employees only. In fact, he was still quite certain they were, as all curtains and doors were closed upon their passing, all voices hushed. Secret ingredients of the tobacco and opiate needed to be kept hidden from the eyes and ears of competition, after all. It did not take long, however, before they reached the passage's end. The servant remained behind, but Grumrump pushed through the curtain wall, the thick materials smacking Antonio in the face and making his eyes dry and itch. He stepped forward, pushing through several abusive walls of curtain carelessly pushed aside by Grumrump, only to step forward into a rather grand and comfortable looking room.<br><br>"Extravagant," Antonio gasped, spirits soaring high merely at the scents of incense about him. Before he could even get a truly good look around, Grumrump's fat hand clapped him between the shoulders, his rings leaving a bit of a mark as the entertainer was pushed forward.<br><br>"But in need of a good entertainer!" Grumrump grinned. "Go, my favorite! Make the smiles upon the women and lads here genuine! Wipe the lies from their faces and make the mirth real!"<br><br>Antonio turned back, already feeling a bit out of his element, but saw that Grumrump was already distracted himself. The plump finger tickled beneath the chin of an impossibly cute waitress girl, one that leaned forward in such a fashion that her breasts pushed suggestively together and her skirt lifted just enough to make you think you'd see something. She and another waitress took his arms, leading him to a chaise somehow capable of withstanding his bulk.<br><br>Clearing his throat, Antonio looked about the room. Most of the eyes had paid little to no mind on the fat man's booming voice, and others seemed to look with distaste. Others studied him in curiosity, however. He had to admit, the entertainment within was that special upper-crust level of drab, and despite Grumrump's physical appearance the man was certainly not oblivious to why the women smiled at his appearance. Coin and illusion.<br><br>"On with the show, I suppose," Antonio said, unclasping a satchel at his side. He removed three dark blue juggling balls, for starters, and stepped towards the center of the room tossing them into the air. He opened his mouth to say something, but wasn't really sure what to say or whom to address. So he simply kept juggling, popping his hip, catching a fourth ball from the satchel, and adding it to the rotation, all the while his eyes studying the room and listening for any sign of positive reception.
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				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AndyZ</strong> on <strong>20-04-2017, 06:12:06</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i57.tinypic.com/mwv4go.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Araxis (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13136083#msg13136083)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Entering and looking for girls<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> Mild pressuring of a waitress (but taking no for an answer)<br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Creatures closer to humanity always had a number of little rituals, presumably to link them together to earlier generations.&nbsp; The entire trope of the One Night Bride, for instance.&nbsp; Perhaps it made humans feel better to have marriage to begin with, and he appreciated paying by the night instead of by the hour, but it only struck at an attempt to make him feel more pity.&nbsp; If they couldn't keep their loved ones faithful without such rituals, what good did such traditions serve without being magically enforced?&nbsp; <br><br>As always, Mr. Jeffrey opened the door and offered his greeting.&nbsp; Araxis gave an upnod, but didn't pay attention to let him finish; he knew the spiel by heart.&nbsp; Another tradition, but this one he understood: no matter how heavy the door or the strength necessary, it was a display of power to make someone else open the door for you.<br><br>He walked inside, glancing about, when one of the half-elven waitresses caught his eye.&nbsp; As he sauntered over, she gave him a smile.&nbsp; "Drink, sir?" she asked politely.<br><br>He smiled right back, shaking his head as he looked into her eyes.&nbsp; "You're far too attractive to dull with alcohol.&nbsp; How much for the night?"<br><br>A gentle crimson crossed her features, and although she kept smiling, her eyes shifted away.&nbsp; "Oh, I'm not...you want one of the other girls."<br><br>He placed a hand on her shoulder, stepping in a little closer and shifting to help make eye contact once again.&nbsp; "You're certain I don't want you also?"&nbsp; <br><br>Her smile faded, and he stepped back, releasing her.&nbsp; "Do let me know if you change your mind."&nbsp; They parted ways as he checked around for the courtesans.
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				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>20-04-2017, 22:24:38</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/OV6LkpI.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Chantal (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129713#msg13129713)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESEAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; gauging the crowd, letting herself be seen<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>It was not often that Chantal was among the first of the girls to enter the fray.&nbsp; She preferred a later entrance most times, and she was grateful that Madame Celeste did not dictate their presence from opening to closing, save for when they serviced clients.&nbsp; It was, she thought, the difference between those who were confident enough in their power not to have to flaunt it and those who worked most of all to convince themselves of their own importance.<br><br>There were new faces among the crowd, and familiar ones as well.&nbsp; The large man with hair the color of wheat whose eyes always sought out Tzascha, one among the staff who chose not to give herself over as bride or groom.&nbsp; Perhaps one day, she would see what she could do to arrange that which he longed for, as there were many in the Bazaar who could make it so that fire did not melt ice, for a time.&nbsp; The flesh of a man was no hotter.&nbsp; Yet if he had not done so himself, there was likely reason, and she had learned that the loa oft extracted a hefty price for meddling, so she contented herself with a smile, moved on, reaching out to touch where it was invited, touching with her eyes where invitation must be obtained first.<br><br>Another familiar face caught her eye, that of the man whose eyes were akin to sapphires, a worthy gem.&nbsp; He had sought Madame Celeste's company before, she knew, but if the proprietress had favorites, Chantal did not know of it, though she took to her bed those it pleased her to do so.&nbsp; It was a power that Chantal envied a bit, even if the envy was remote.&nbsp; While she could turn down any client she chose to, sometimes she did not choose, if only to remind herself of her own power over her fear.&nbsp; Whether tonight would be such a night, she did not know.&nbsp; When his eyes fell upon her, Chantal inclined her head low, but did not presume to stop.&nbsp; &nbsp; He was one of those who knew his own power, but, she thought, expected others to know it too, and acknowledge it openly.&nbsp; <br><br>A fresh face caught her eye, another man with a young appearance, dressed as an entertainer, and equipped as one as well.&nbsp; He tossed his balls high into the air, with flair, and Chantal watched for a moment, smiling faintly before something else drew her attention to a smiling waiter whose head came up to just about the height of her breasts.&nbsp; He bore upon his tray, with a score of other drinks, a green tinged concoction garnished with a mint leaf, and handed it to her with a flourish.&nbsp; He liked, she thought, the view, and she dipped low in curtsy to allow him a better one, the game between them old but made not boring by the glint of humor in his eyes.<br><br>She liked to have something in her hand as she wandered, feet and eyes, though she only sipped, humming softly to herself.&nbsp; &nbsp;The night was yet young, and she came from a culture where speed was oft linked to both powerlessness, and desperation.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TyCaine</strong> on <strong>20-04-2017, 22:25:30</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DNiFcci.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Nicholas 'Nick' Carlton (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13140334#msg13140334)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Just arrived and needing some stress relief after the days he had faced...<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Nick paused outside, just to the side of the doors of the establishment and closed his eyes briefly as he leaned back against the cool stone of one of the walls. It had become a ritual, whether outside this establishment or another, that he did whenever he had managed to get away from the stresses of his 'home' dimension. Being the most powerful man in the world who controlled the world from the shadows had a wearing affect on even the most hardy of souls, but considering his soul was literally promised to the Devil it was that much more wearing on him. Not that he would show any such weakness back 'there', but here, here he could...perhaps...unwind.<br><br>Access to the Bazaar and it's accompanying establishments had been an unintended perk of his deal with the Devil, and unforeseen loop-hole that the Devil had unwittingly granted him and which literally created a loop-hole through time and space that he found he could access whenever he wished, to be returned back to his home dimension as though he had never left. A powerful ability, for an exceedingly powerful man, and he relished the time he got away to the Bazaar and, more recently, to the One-Night Bride brothel.<br><br>He had discovered the brothel a few trips previously, though had been anxious at the time to return to finish a plot he had set in motion so had not entered at the time, since then he had returned twice though he doubted anyone had noticed him as it had been more to get the feel for the place than to actually make use of it's services, and to enjoy the peace it offered. This time though he had made it through with the sole intent of making use of the services on offer and, more specifically, finding someone who could help release some of the tensions in his mind and body, and with that in mind he was after a particular type of companion.<br><br>Being as powerful as he was, he could literally snap his fingers and have anything he desired brought before him, like monarchs of old he wielded power effortlessly, though his power was more modern being he was from a variant of Earth in the early 21st century, and he controlled from the shadows what we might know as the Americas, though what it had become far exceeded anything we might imagine... What he needed, what he craved though, was a strong female companion, someone who would stand up to him, command and control him, and for a little time at least allow him to release control of himself to someone, and this he believed was possible here.<br><br>Having paused and calmed his mind he opened blue eyes that were filled with intelligence and cunning, and climbed the steps and walked through the doors of the One-Night Bride establishment. He had yet to sample it's delights but had high hopes...&nbsp; He glanced around noting the different clients and staff, before taking a seat in a plush leather chair and relaxing for a moment. He smiled at the waitress as she asked what she could get him, the smile though pleasant was that of a predatory, and his gaze wandered over her briefly as he ordered an expensive whiskey, before settling himself to people watch for a little while, his hooded gaze taking in everything, and revealing nothing...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Top Cat</strong> on <strong>20-04-2017, 22:57:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/bUvpHLC.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Stephen Downing (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13137161#msg13137161)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Entering the One-Night Bride for the first time, desperately in need of something - or more accurately, someONE - to be in control of <br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Stephen had been in The Bazaar for several years. It took some getting used to, but starving was a great motivation for him to get up to speed, <em>fast</em>. He'd stolen some food on his first day... badly. The owner of the fruit stand was a woman who was larger than anyone he'd ever met in his life - someone who could pick him&nbsp; up with one hand. Which is exactly what she did. Fearing for his life, he was startled when she <em>realized</em> that he was starving, and gave him a handful of fruits and nuts, grumbling that he should pay it back when he could manage it. <br><br>He had long since paid off that debt, but every day was a new surprise, a new unexpected trap, a mistake, an accidental stepping on the wrong toes - he always seemed to be in trouble, and it was evident that casual violence was something that happened here. Thankfully, he turned out to be useful. The mechanical engineering skills that he had from his American degree turned out to be a valuable talent in this place. <br><br>Over the next few months, he made somewhat of a name for himself as a mechanic. He dealt with steampunk widgets, magitech gadgets, and a wide range of other devices, from near-stone-age simplicity to a fascinating degree of technology far beyond anything he'd ever seen at home. He was able to apply his skills, and gained a new awareness of things he'd never seen before. Magic, in particular, was something beyond him, but he picked up connections to other crafters who could handle magic. Over time, he even came to understand that there were a thousand <em>different kinds</em> of magic - all of which were beyond him. <br><br>His mistakes cost him money. His successes gained him money - a wide range of bills and coins from places he'd never heard of. It was a mystery to him how they could all be useful, but some of the bigger businesses seemed to flow through the money as though they understood the heartbeat of every world the money came from. <br><br>Finally, after several excruciatingly difficult tasks that took the better part of a week to finish (to the increasing frustration of his customer), he felt like he'd been through the wringer. "Right," he said, angrily proud that this strange whirligig now worked as expected and to the satisfaction of the customer. "If I'm done, pay me." He didn't specify a price. Everyone knew what their work was worth, it seemed.<br><br>This time was... different. The man dropped a sheet of paper in his hands and walked away laughing. Frowning, Stephen opened the paper, to read: <br><br><span style="font-family: andale mono;" class="bbc_font">Madame Celeste, <br>For this young man's service to me, I will vouch for one night of this man's visit to your Establishment. <br>Food, drink, a good lady - it looks like he needs the latter, especially. I will cover the cost. <br><br>Tyrian MacCobble, Trader Extraordinaire</span><br><br>He frowned. He had no idea who Madame Celeste was. He trotted over to the fruit-peddling giantess, who had turned into somewhat of a friend. "Skybelle," he said, looking up at her. "I have a question. A customer just gave me this as payment for a job," he held up the paper, "and it's just a letter to some person named Madame Celeste. Do you know who that is?" <br><br>The giantess leaned down and gently took the piece of paper from him, looking at it with a far-sighted squint. "Ah..." Her eyebrows rose as she realized the implications of the letter. "That would be the One-Night Bride," she rumbled. "I have heard nothing but good things from people who have been there, but I have never been there myself. It is against my lifepath." She looked down at him. "I think you may have been overpaid." <br><br>Stephen blinked. "Overpaid?" he said in a huff. "This job took over a week to finish." <br><br>Skybelle smiled. "Then you were most certainly overpaid." She handed the paper back to him. "I mean no disrespect, Stephen," she said quietly, "but I know of noone more in need of a good fuck than you. While I would be willing to help, I believe that I would break you." <br><br>Stephen blushed. He'd never heard Skybelle say anything that crude before. But after a moment, he nodded. "Okay," he allowed, "maybe you're right... where is this place?" <br><br>She gave him brief directions, then finished, "Ask for more than the note says. A night includes renting a room," she opined, "and you, my friend, desperately need a <em>shower</em>." <br><br><hr><br>It was nearly an hour later when he arrived at the One-Night Bride. He walked in nervously, feeling out of his depth with the obvious luxurious glamour of the establishment. He looked around for a moment, then spotted a waitress and waved her over. "Excuse me," he told the pretty, petite woman, "I think I'm looking for Madame Celeste?" He showed her the letter, and waited for directions, or instructions... and half-expected simply to be kicked back out. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sara Nilsson</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 00:22:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/77/SNorclady.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Snogflog Nosebiter of the Shattered Hand Clan (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13138798#msg13138798)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESEAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Roaming the Greeting room trying to not look like she will kill the next person she speaks to<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Normally Snogflog is one of the first of the girls to hit the floor, after all she doesn't spend as long as the others putting on elaborate flimsy clothing. Just her trusty leathers, and her hair is simple enough to care for. Just a proper wash before the sun hits the horizon so it has time to dry, however today she decided to do a proper workout to burn off the excess energy she seems to have gathered the last few days. While not an unpopular girl by any stretch of the imagination she does have a tendency to scare off more than one gentleman. So the last two days had her spend the night alone, so long before the sun even thought to shine down on this magical place she grabbed her axes and headed outside to work through her exercises until her body shone with sweat and her heart was pounding inside of her. Sometimes a client would ask her to do it for him as a form of dance, and she has heard from some that where they come from they have dances involving weaponry.<br><br>As noon approaches she takes a break to eat a simple meal consisting of raw meat and a large amount of water, like her kind she hates the taste of meat ruined by being cooked. Once her kind would eat the hearts of their enemies on the battlefield but with the old worship being replaced with the worship of the elements those practises have faded away. Still, no self respecting orc would eat cooked food. At least not in any quantity, a small nibble to keep a client company sure. Few clients find the sight of blood dripping down her face very appealing, though there was that vampire a few weeks back. An interesting man, they both sported quite a few injuries by the time he had to flee before the coming sun. Fun times.<br><br>Having burned off the energy tingling in her body she makes sure to take a long bath to get clean, a blacksmiths file working away at her nails to get them into something resembling elegance. Her now friends have spent many a day teaching her the finer art of makeup and care for her nails and hair, but when you are an orc you have to be apply a little bit more energy to get the nails to not look like they are ready to rip an enemy apart. So properly cleaned up, her hair almost dry and with her nicest clothes on she walks into the greeting room. Already the elegant Chantal is there much to the delight of the clients, Snogflog raises an eyebrow in surprise. Usually the charming lady is not the first one here, it seems to Snogflog that the lady prefers to make sure her outfit and clothes are immaculate first. And well she can't argue with the result, Chantal always looks perfect. One would be forgiven for thinking the orc would resent the smaller human but far from it, she quite likes her. After any human that can take a good rough tumble in the bed is doing something right. On top of the ample charm that she holds of course.<br><br>Barefoot Snogflog starts to mingle, trading a fierce smile with a few regulars that she has talked to before. Trading a friendly headbutt to a towering barbarian warlord who already has his arm around one of the male workers, where he comes from same sex pairings are frowned upon so here the normally brutish warlord can be himself. A perfectly charming man with a fondness for overly sweet poetry and of course cute men.<br><br>“Good to see you again Targwolf.”<br><br>She gives a respectful nod towards Mr Jeffries as his ever vigilant eyes never seem to miss anything, she still isn't quite sure what to make of the man. So most of the time she makes sure to keep their interactions pleasant but neutral. Humans, always so confusing. If he even is that, some rumours seem to say otherwise. Then again, rumours seem to say lots of things and few of them true. She has heard a few about herself too, some she even finds flattering. Especially the one about the poor man who couldn't perform and what she did to him that resulted in him joining a Harem guard as a eunuch. She would never do that, well.. not with a cleaver when she has perfectly good tusks to use.<br><br>Over at a table the rather well known adventurer and quite generous spender if the gossip is to be believed opens up a bottle of wine, she approves of him opening it with his teeth. Shows strength to not use some corkscrew, and if all the stories are to be believed and she doesn't believe all of them then he is making quite a name for himself. One day he might fall to someone or something more powerful but so far it seems he has outwitted death. Still it makes her grin to see him back, people like him spend enough money to make up for the ones that don't tip the hard working waitresses.<br><br>A man she hasn't seen before is juggling some colourful balls, she stops a short moment to appreciate his skill wondering how he would handle a pair of knives or axes instead. It doesn't help that he is quite easy on the eyes with fine muscles and obviously a superior taste in hair so she tosses a few coins his way to help encourage others to do the same.<br><br>“P..pardon me? Do you know if the ravishing Miss Follete will be gracing us with her presence today?”<br><br>Snogflog turns to the obviously worried man in the most garish red and gold silken outfit she has ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on. A nobleman no doubt, more money then taste but hey he has some taste to come here at least. So she gives him a friendly grin that shows off her sharp tusks and shakes her head gently, the locks brushing against her bare shoulders.<br><br>“Sadly good Sir, I do not know but I haven't heard anything that leads me to believe she will not. I can only advice you to partake in some good wine and cheese while you wait, I heard we got a new shipment of gnomish blue that is absolutely exquisite.”<br><br>Urgh, it pains her to try and be so elegant in her wording. But the look on his face when she doesn't simply grunt “Me not know, me smash skulls only.” is quite rewarding. The only reason she knows about the gnomish blue is that she saw another client munching on a slice earlier, at least she thinks it was gnomish blue. Could be any form of mouldy cheese for all she knows.<br><br>That taken care of she lets her eyes roam again, briefly she thinks she spots Araxis but from behind it is hard to tell. Another regular that she has heard mixed things about, some dislike his obvious arrogance but she knows of more than one girl that claims he is worth it. Something about the things the man can do with his tongue, or was it fingers? She can't quite remember. Today seems to have it's share of new people she has never seen before, some bold and sure of themselves others more nervous and skittish. To her disappointment she doesn't see any of the few that find her particular talents to their liking so she just circles the room helping the waitstaff here and there by collecting discarded glasses and plates to hand to them. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TyCaine</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 01:53:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DNiFcci.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Nicholas 'Nick' Carlton (http://[url=https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13140334#msg13140334)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Just arrived and needing some stress relief after the days he had faced...<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Chantal or Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><hr><hr><br>Nick's gaze, as he slipped the potent liquor in his hand, wandered over those around him, taking in the dark haired woman who moved with grace and care as she wound her way about the room, and then to the orcish female who also seemed to be doing the rounds. He had never seen such creatures before finding his way to the Bazaar, and his first encounters had been harrowing to say to least, but having been back several times now he was acquainted with seeing stranger sights tab he was used to, and he found it interesting how many others found their way here.<br><br>He listened to the orcish woman as she spoke to the newly arrived male, and noted that appearances could be deceptive, one who might appear uncouth in this case seemed well educated and schooled, at least in language... Leaving the man and the orc to their discussion his gaze wandered back to the dark haired woman and watched her silently, his gaze taking in how she moved as much as her looks, before​ taking another sip.<br><br>He was in no rush, having discovered ​the first time he returned to his own world that things were as he left them almost to the second, whatever trickery was in effect he was grateful for it as it meant he could spend time at his leisure for, perhaps, the first time in his life.... How this affected his deal with the Devil he didn't know, but the deal had been worth it for what he had gained, not only back there, but also here, and he would have sold his soul a thousand times over were it possible.<br><br>He blinked a moment, realizing he had lost sight of the dark haired woman and, after a moment's searching the room, he sighed and let his gaze wander again. "No matter..." he said to himself, "No rush..." he added as he watched the comings and goings some more, looking for someone of interest as he relaxed in what we rapidly becoming, for him, a haven of sorts...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 04:23:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/fJ9JoZV.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Madame Celeste (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13127459#msg13127459)</strong><br><br><strong>STAFF</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Greeting a special customer<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Stephen<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>The waitress looked Stephen over for a moment, though nothing in her expression indicated that she was readying to call for the bouncers to have him removed.&nbsp; Like most who had not made near immediate ends shortly after arriving at the Bazaar for the first time, she knew very well that appearances were deceiving.&nbsp; Instead, she smiled politely, and offered him a drink from a nearby tray, which ended up being a rather nice, if light, bubbly champagne.<br><br><em>"Will you wait here one moment, Sir?"</em><br><br>She headed off, effortlessly weaving her way through the movement, leaving the uncomfortable client shifting as others came in, though it gave good occasion for him to observe, and to note that few seemed to be leaving, though, like appearances, entrances and exits were not always visible, nor where one thought they might be.<br><br>A few minutes later, an elegant, curvaceous woman swept through the room, smiling at those who called to her, but not pausing.&nbsp; In her hands, she carried the letter that Stephen had been given.&nbsp; When her eyes met his, she smiled brilliantly, her teeth very white and appearing momentarily sharp against a glimmer of the overhead lamps.<br><br>"So you are the one that Master MacCobble has praised.&nbsp; He has recommended you to me, and perhaps after you have enjoyed your well-deserved payment for your labors, we may well have other business to discuss.&nbsp; Do not look so nervous, dahling.&nbsp; Everything is all arranged."<br><br>Madame Celeste's long-nailed fingers reached for his arms, and she leaned in and kissed the air near his cheek, the movement and soft pop of her lips heating the skin and leaving a tingle in its wake.&nbsp; Her grip was firm, even assessing, but not painful ... though something in the grasp said it could be, if she chose ... and her perfume washed over him, having an immediate effect upon certain parts of his anatomy, making them stir pleasantly.<br><br>"Now then.&nbsp; I am Madame Celeste, the owner of the One-Night Bride.&nbsp; As you can see, we have a dazzling selection of brides, and all are skilled ... in their own ways ... in pleasing their husband for the night.&nbsp; &nbsp;If you see one that catches your eye, speak to her, or if you're shy, ask any of our staff and they'll be able to tell you a bit about her and the delights she offers.&nbsp; The wait staff will bring you anything that you like, but a word of advice, dahling ... do not indulge so much in spirits that you miss the best of the experience.&nbsp; There is food in the Casbah, many places where you can celebrate as you would."<br><br>Though the words flowed easily from her glossy plum-tinted lips, they did not sound as if she were repeating them by rote, but rather that she truly took an interest, possibly because of the letter, and possibly for other reasons.<br><br>"Relax, my sweet.&nbsp; Breathe in.&nbsp; Breathe out.&nbsp; No one will eat you here ... though we might nibble a bit, if you ask nicely."<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Top Cat</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 04:47:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/bUvpHLC.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Stephen Downing (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13137161#msg13137161)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Starstruck <br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Madame Celeste, Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Stephen sampled the champagne, but put it down after a few swallows. Alcohol poisoning was the chief assassination method back where he was from... <br><br>When Madame Celeste appeared, Stephen gawked for a moment at the astonishingly beautiful woman. It took several moments before he realized that she was passing by other, more obviously well-to-do clients, and approaching <em>him</em>. <br><br>As she started talking in exceptionally complimentary tones to him, his mind swirled into action. She was obviously <em>the</em> Madame Celeste from the letter. How should he address her? It was even more shocking that she seemed to hold him in high regard, thanks to that man's letter. That was... different. Stephen hadn't felt <em>cared about</em> in years. He found that he couldn't do anything but be perfectly respectful to her. <br><br>"I... milady," he started, stammering, "I am honored by your personal attention." He looked over at the other women that had started circling the place, and his eyes definitely caught on the large green one. "She'd make a passable She-Hulk..." he mused, half aloud. "But I'm not sure I'm the man who can conquer her..." <br><br>He turned back toward Madame Celeste, realizing what he wanted. He sensed that direct honesty would work best with her, and even lying to <em>himself</em> would be a disservice to her. "I..." He swallowed. "I want... a woman that I can <em>conquer</em>," he said. "One that I can capture and... make mine. Even if it's only temporary." He cocked his head and gave her a full appraising look, eyeing her from top to bottom. "While I would be honored with <em>your</em> company," he said daringly, "I get the feeling that you're not one that gets conquered..." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 19:38:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/fJ9JoZV.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Madame Celeste (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13127459#msg13127459)</strong><br><br><strong>STAFF</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Greeting a special customer<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Stephen<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Madame Celeste's smile broadened a slight bit as her appearance reduced the young man to stammering, perhaps giving the impression that she enjoyed having that effect.&nbsp; As Master MacCobble's young protege's attention wandered toward one of the brides, she turned, too, breathing in a slight sigh as she noted that Snogflog still clung to her rather ordinary leathers, though her magnificent form certainly gave them definition.&nbsp; The things the armormaster might do to make her truly stunning -- the addition of studs or spikes, perhaps, or a color that would highlight her eyes and the exotic tone of her skin, a few alterations to perhaps spur those who would claim her to more immediate, aggressive battle ...<br><br>But her attention did not wander long.&nbsp; That was a conversation that she and Snoggie had had before, and would likely have again.&nbsp; Only when she was ready for such steps would such attire do her justice, or she justice to the attire.&nbsp; Attitude was a good portion of the battle.<br><br><em>"You might be surprised, dahling, but there is wisdom at testing yourself in a few skirmishes before heading into the major battle." </em> Of course, he did not quite look like the warrior type, so the analogy might be wasted, but it had been long enough since she had visited the place whose aura still hung about his thoughts that she probably would not do any better if she tried to use more ... what was the word? ... scientific terminology.<br><br>And, with more courage than she had perhaps allowed him from her first examination, he admitted to his desires.&nbsp; There was hesitation, but, only because he wished to make a good impression with his phrasing rather than not knowing what he wanted.&nbsp; &nbsp;She reached out, her thumb moving&nbsp; alongside her fingers in preparation to deal an affectionate pinch ... and then changed her mind at the last moment, opting instead for a brief caress along the stubble.<br><em><br>"Mmmm ... I do love a bit of beard on a man," </em>she purred to herself, eyes glittering with amusement at his reaction before she drew away and continued on in a more business-like tone.&nbsp; <em>"Oh, I am occasionally conquered ... but you would find that, I think, an even more difficult task than our formidably beautiful Snogflog Nosebiter of the Shattered Hand Clan."</em>&nbsp; Her eyes said, even if her words did not, that it was not a challenge, only an observation.<br><em><br>"Well, the first step in achieving your goal, my sweet, is to see which of our lovely brides interest you most.&nbsp; There is no need to hurry ... your night, from now until the dawn, is courtesy of your master." </em> That was an assumption on her part, but a logical one, and she did not apologize when his reaction told her it was not, precisely, the current situation.&nbsp; &nbsp;<em> "To properly conquer any woman is deserving of at least a full night.&nbsp; &nbsp; If it takes less, you have not chosen wisely.&nbsp; If it takes more ... well, there will be, no doubt, other nights.&nbsp; To have impressed Master MacCobble, I am certain you will have the resources to return here if you wish, and equally as certain that this night will give you reason to prove me right."</em><br><br>Her eyes swept the room, spied a familiar figure, and her slow smile returned.&nbsp; <em>"Depending upon how confident you are in your abilities, if you find yourself uncertain after you have at least viewed the garden, I might suggest that you introduce yourself to Psyche, that gorgeous creature just over there.&nbsp; Tell her that I recommend her highly ... yet I warn you, she will present a challenge rather than an easy victory ... but it would be worth a substantial effort upon your part, and the reward ..."</em><br><br>Celeste's smile turned knowing as she patted Stephen's cheek again.&nbsp; <br><br><em>"... the reward would be even greater than that given you by a master tradesman."</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gilgameshian</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 19:41:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s22.postimg.org/t5zdc0k4h/Jensen_Ackles_2004_by_John_Russo_-_12004.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Velen Fortensa (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13131617#msg13131617)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Welcoming and Watching<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br>----<br><br>Velen usually was one of the first to be at the door simply because he enjoyed seeing the flood of people. The One-Night Bride was always fascinating to see open. The flood of men and women coming through the door with some looking like they were on a mission and others looking like they were about as confused as they could possibly be since it was their presumably first time. The half-breed incubus stood just off to the side watching the staff circulate, the women look seductive or innocent, and the clients begin their fawning. It was even just a little bit more special seeing Madame Celeste among them today. It wasn't entirely uncommon really but he liked to think of it as a good omen to see her right at the beginning. She had quite the presence after all.<br><br>Adjusting the crimson suit he was wearing he headed to the nearest waiter and took a drink. Generally, he had found, you looked more approachable with a drink. Well, he could just start working his incubus charm but that felt a little like cheating. So instead he took to walking through the crowd slowly letting his eyes linger on any woman who happened to catch his eye. Each one could be his bride for the night and he could offer them anything. But none of them looked for more than a second or two before looking away. Perhaps it was the knowledge of his incubus nature. It was hard to tell really since some seemed to adore that facet of him while others believed it made him too predatory. Quite the interesting comparison since more than a few clients had demanded he be just that. Oh he still remembered fondly one of his first clients who had demanded that he "pin her down and ravish her for hours."<br><br>He hadn't seen the woman for a week after that and when he did she told him she hadn't been able to walk for a few days. She was still one of his recurring clients to this day though her tastes had changed some. But that was neither here nor there. Velen made use of his powers as he walked to allow small illusions to play around his head. One moment it was a comically small dragon circling his head breathing fire and the next it was halo as if to imply he was truly an angel. He changed it every few minutes to keep things interesting but it was more to showcase some of what he could do. It had taken some time to get his magic to a point where it was considered acceptable to use in the building and, outside of his own room, he was very limited to things on his own person unless a client specifically asked for more. But he could work with that.<br><br>Deciding that, perhaps, the best thing to do was to let someone come to him he took a seat on one of the benches. Crossing his legs and letting his eyes roam he was keenly aware of some of the other brides. The more he had come to know them the closer to them he had felt. And more than a few of them he knew, from personal experience over the years, was extremely talented. He had no doubt they would find someone soon enough. Still none of the women seemed bold enough to come to him so he took to meeting their eyes. The first one to keep his gaze for more than a few seconds would be his first choice for the night whoever that woman might be.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AndyZ</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 20:23:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i57.tinypic.com/mwv4go.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Araxis (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13136083#msg13136083)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Chatting up Chantal<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Chantal, Open, Mentioning Snogflog and Madame Celeste<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Araxis had heard of cultures where alacrity was frowned upon, but he never really understood it.&nbsp; Nature and life both demonstrated that speed was often the only thing that mattered.&nbsp; The fastest fox caught the slowest rabbit.&nbsp; The first to step upon a new land got to claim it as their own.&nbsp; Hesitation was an inability to act, a paralysis where any warrior realized the folly of entering into a battle with a dragon shortly before being devoured.<br><br>As many of the other men stood around and adjusted to the building, Araxis took another glance around.&nbsp; One girl briefly caught his eye, an honest-to-goodness orc.&nbsp; He'd heard stories of the prowess of orcs, but many brothels treated them like wild mares: not worth the trouble to domesticate enough to have them in the brothel without the blood of lesser beings being shed.&nbsp; It was a testament to the talents of Madame Celeste, and more demonstrable proof why he wanted a chance to invest here.&nbsp; Eventually he would test if the stories about orcs were true, but it wasn't his current mood.<br><br>Another woman caught his eye, dipping her head in proper deference but without the apprehension of those who truly felt unworthy.&nbsp; He moved over towards her, allowing her some time to get a drink, though not interested in one himself.<br><br>As pleasant as the Casbah had looked when he glanced in before, cooked meat was something more for fire dragons.&nbsp; Some dragons enjoyed the lukewarm taste of food and water in human form, he did not.&nbsp; Simply sipping at water was hardly as vigorous as crunching down on the raw ice, forcing it through your gullet, and regrowing any of the teeth that grew too raw and worn from the brutal experience.&nbsp; It was a metaphor for life itself.<br><br>He stopped near the woman in the purple bodice, offering a polite bow.&nbsp; "Araxis," he introduced himself, and offered a hand, no doubt to take one of hers for a proper kiss.&nbsp; Although his eyes caught on hers, he also watched because he wanted to see her curtsy, and wasn't the least bit shy about it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TyCaine</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 20:57:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DNiFcci.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Nicholas 'Nick' Carlton (http://[url=https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13140334#msg13140334)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Just arrived and needing some stress relief after the days he had faced...<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Madame Celeste, Chantal or Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><hr><hr><br>Having lost sight of the dark-haired woman, Nick's gaze had returned to wandering about the great room and, finishing his drink, he finally stood, his tall, lean frame was clad in a finely tailored suit which made him look more powerful even than he was in his home dimension. The look in his eyes was almost predatory as he took a turn around the room, enjoying the sights and sounds of this place, before finding his gaze taking in the voluptuous Madame of the establishment where it lingered.<br><br>He had heard a few things of the Madame but until now had yet to set eyes on her, but truly she was stunning but then so were most in the One-Night Bride brothel. He caught the eye of a waitress and ordered another drink, before letting his gaze return to the Madame, letting it rake over her unashamedly, almost hungrily, before turning once more to look around. There were several here he would like to be with, whether they would play the role he wanted, or needed, remained to be seen, but for now he was willing to bide his time.&nbsp; After all, it's not like he was wasting time being here...<br><br>He smiled to himself at the thought, that he had spent so many years building his powerbase through the assistance of the Devil herself, had come to his current position of power, but in doing so had been mostly alone, for who could he trust? And there were certainly none he could trust with his particular tastes, such a powerful man operating in the shadows found engaging in bondage and restrained one day by the wrong person, he might as well have killed himself.<br><br>Here though, he had the freedom to be who he truly was, and taste his true desires, fulfill his true needs... And he could do so all in good time...&nbsp; He let his gaze linger on the Madame once more, before catching sight of the dark haired woman on the other side of the great room.&nbsp; So many pleasures to be had, and so much time to enjoy them...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Top Cat</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 21:27:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/bUvpHLC.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Stephen Downing (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13137161#msg13137161)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Starstruck <br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Madame Celeste, Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Stephen listened to Celeste's wise advice. He turned to look back at Snogflog, and murmured, "Learn to walk before you try to run, right..." He wasn't certain that he would ever be able to conquer Snogflog, but as his grade school teacher once said, <em>Aim for the stars. While you might fail, you're likely to go higher than you'd ever expect.</em> <br><br>When she referred to MacCobble as his Master, as though Stephen was a hireling or chattel of MacCobble, he turned back. "I work freelance, milady," he corrected mildly. "And I will seek you in the morning to discuss further business, as you requested." <br><br>He bowed to Celeste, the first time in his life he'd ever bowed to <em>anyone</em>, and turned away again, looking over the crowd. "But for now, as you say," he continued, "I'll try to seek my fortune here tonight." <br><br>He stepped away, clearly signaling that their conversation was over, not realizing that he was subconsciously treating her as an equal... or him as a superior. The discussion had boosted his ego significantly, and he was feeling better than he had in... <em>decades</em>, he realized. <br><br>He scanned the ladies, and laid his eyes on Psyche. She was certainly beautiful, and her features captivated him. He made a note that, even if he didn't go with her tonight, he'd go with her eventually. But as Celeste had encouraged him to look around and make a choice of his own, he kept her as simply a <em>possibility</em> for tonight. <br><br>His meandering course around the room brought him close to Snogflog by simple happenstance. His eyes locked on her once more. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or his ego-boosting discussion with Celeste, but he found himself walking quietly, subtly sneaking up on Snogflog. <br><br>At only an inch taller than him, she made a good fit for him, height-wise. His feet glided him close, closer, until he was right behind her. His hand slid down the back of her leather skirt, cupping her ass for a moment before giving it a solid pinch. "I may not be ready for it tonight," he said quietly - not whispering, but low enough that it would not carry more than a few feet - "but you will be my slave one day. Perhaps some day <em>soon</em>." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sephiriel</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 21:50:40</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>&nbsp;<strong>Name:&nbsp; Semele (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129368#msg13129368)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Entering the One-Night Bride with need, panache and more clients!<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Velen and Antonio; mentioning Celeste and Stephen; Open <br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>devious smiles</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br><br>The curtains to the main entrance were pulled apart wide enough to allow the small group of clients to enter. Semele, owner of the Pink Hydra - the One Night Bride’s main competitor, was fenced by four males, two of which were her personal guards. The others were close business partners which she brought to the ONB for some fun. It was part of her annual report and a self-confident statement – the venture allowed them to test the competition first-hand and thus rightfully compare it to the services offered at Pink Hydra.&nbsp; It spoke volumes of her rather unusual way to run her affairs and in 99% of cases it had the desired impact. The partners had a wonderful time on her expense, always asked for the best food, wine and women, but in the end continued their patronage for the Pink Hydra. It was not because the services at the Bride lacked or because of any major difference of quality between the two establishments… it was due to the eccentricity of the former and partly to Semele’s personal charm. Her clientele was quite the specific one – most of them were either living within the Bazaar or highly knowledgeable of its offerings, just like her. Boredom seemed to be the most unlikely threat anyone would receive at this magical place. And yet for many such as her it was inevitable. So she took them and herself away from the flamboyant and boisterous rooms of the Pink Hydra straight into the luxurious and intimate chambers of the One Night Bride. <br><br>Her entrance was as always, dramatic. The two bodyguards were of the Wolf Clan, twins. Both were large, bulky, their frames covered in ivory and grey fur, their snouts bore one or two scars and both dressed identical bar for the color scheme in leather pieces strong enough to stand the flexing of their limbs. The most loyal guards one could find in the Bazaar and they didn’t come cheap. Her business partners were of a different species. The tall, lanky one was half-dragon judging by the scales on his neck and by the lizard-like nose on his otherwise handsome face.&nbsp; The second partner was shorter than even Semele herself and very young compared to the other members of the group. He was in fact representing his father and despite his efforts to hide it, this was his first time visiting such an establishment. Semele initially thought it was bad business to have his first impression at the Bride rather than at her own. However, if he were to fall in the wrong hands, ones not so tender or patient as required to render his first experience a most pleasant one, she wouldn’t mind it. It bothered her that this was a rather delicate situation: she had to make sure the youngster had enough of a good time to relate it to his father, but not good enough to seek it again here. <br><br>As for herself, she was looking for something really special, someone to help her unwind and forget everything for an hour or two at least, if not for the night. She had her mind set on one of the younger Grooms, those who really aimed to please and who allowed themselves to be molded to her preference. If Fate would present itself with something different that wouldn’t be a problem, either. Dressed in a sparkling champagne-colored dress with white fur keeping her shoulders warm, Semele looked like one of those Hollywood stars Celeste was so fond of. The golden curls and striking red lipstick gave her a Marilyn Monroe edge. The fact that she was surrounded by the four males all dressed in black only added to that image. Giving Mr. Jeffrey a coy smile as they passed by him, the small group took one of the large benches hostage. The woman and her partners took a seat while the bodyguards remained standing behind them. She allowed the dragon-man to order drinks for them and watched him smile to the pretty waitress.&nbsp; <br><br><strong>“Gentlemen, all is allowed, but not all is permitted.”</strong> She joked teasingly while she scanned the room herself.&nbsp; <strong>“Things go a bit different here, I would suggest taking the time to watch and listen before choosing a Bride. Or a Groom. Yet if you need additional information, I am here to please.”</strong> At the Pink Hydra the selection process was based more or less on a client’s profile, they went through a quick survey before one or two courtesans were suggested to them. In most cases the clients were so pleased, that they asked for the same one a second time or even on the third visit. There was also the “surprise draw”, a fun and public event in which the participants took the risk of enjoying (or not) a courtesan completely different to their tastes. Those who backed down on their word were symbolically hit with flowers and booed playfully by other clients and staff members. But she was here to see what the two would choose for themselves and to take more than a peek at what Celeste’s staff has been up to lately. New additions perhaps? Or new approaches. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>Once the drinks were brought, she took the time to savor her own. Eyes closed, she allowed only the taste to woe her, paired with the rich, spicy fragrance of the room. Then she finally gazed around the room, attentive to details. The juggler was certainly a new addition, Semele thought as her eyes scanned Antonio from his long dreads to the tips of his boots. Was he part of the <em>offerings</em> or just an entertainer? If so, Celeste had certainly lost her mind. It wasn’t in her style at all. And speaking of the devil, there she was in full splendour conversating with a client who by all standards didn’t look like much. All standards except the looks, he was handsome enough to pass as a Groom, was this part of a job interview then? Semele chuckled at the thought. <br><br>“Saw anything funny?” &nbsp;the young man beside her asked hopeful, clinging to any chance to brush away his slight unease. <br><br>&nbsp;<strong>”Yes, the juggler amuses me.”</strong> she lied, focusing on Antonio once more. Perhaps she could do some hiring of her own tonight, if he wasn’t already taken. <br><br><strong>”Bravo!”</strong> she raised her glass towards Antonio and briefly touched the arm of the closest bodyguard. The Wolf-man approached him looking as menacing as ever and as he reached inside his black suit, it looked like he was pulling out a weapon for a moment. But then he jiggled the small satchel and the familiar sound of coins ringing reached Antonio’s ears. <br><br>”The lady enjoys you.” he growled. An odd statement, ambiguous at least. The Wolf-man remained in front of him, waiting for Antonio to take the coins. Semele smiled. Would he stop the juggling just for that? <br><br>Taking one more sip, her gaze changed direction and met with Velen’s brown eyes. Now here was a Groom she never bothered to try before. Semele knew some things about him, information gathered here and there throughout the years, but as a competitor she has always focused more on Celeste’s female courtesans. They were more in number and brought in more coins. As a client however, she viewed him as a pretty boy, a player or at best a secret tease. There was something different about him tonight. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TyCaine</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 22:12:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DNiFcci.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name: Nicholas 'Nick' Carlton (http://[url=https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13140334#msg13140334)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Watching and enjoying the show...<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Madame Celeste, Chantal, Semele or Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Nick watched as the young man parted from the Madame Celeste and he let his gaze take her in fully as she turned, she was...intriguing...for one who always got what he wanted, at least in his home dimension, the way things played out here in the Bazaar was not always so...easy... He had learned that the first visit, and made sure never to forget, since coming back here more often though he had learned that he could be as he wished, he just wielded a different power here.<br><br>In his home dimension he was feared, reviled, perhaps even awed, because of the power he wielded, considering his home dimension was the equivalent of modern day earth that he could wield power over life and death from the shadows was power indeed. Here in the Bazaar though such connections were missing, but with intelligence and cunning, and perhaps a certain amount of arrogance, you could still do as you wished, it was the same and yet....different.&nbsp; A paradox he had come to enjoy as it was a departure from his 'norm'.<br><br>He was considering moving towards her when the side-show arrived in the form of the woman accompanied by the were-creatures, if that's what they were, and he instantly recognized another with power, perhaps greater than what he wielded back home, certainly different. He watched with a hooded gaze as she announced herself and sent her minions to do her bidding while taking in those around her.&nbsp; Interesting to say the least.<br><br>Nick's gaze returned to the Madame, watching to see how she would respond to the entrance, before crossing his arms as he leaned back against the cool stone of the pillar behind him, this visit was certainly engaging to say nothing of interesting, and the cast of characters was certainly to be applauded. He smiled thinly, the thought of how this was all but a play amusing him, before smiling more playfully, talk about interactive entertainment...<br><br>He pushed himself away from the pillar, and slowly walked forwards, like a shark swimming casually through a shoal, nothing to see here, no danger at all, move along, move along...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Capone</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 22:42:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/callmecapone/Setting%20and%20RP/c35e5c8d72d34eb82d71873cb47124bf.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Antonio Cabrello (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129139#msg13129139)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> The entertainer entertains!<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Snogflog, Semele; Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Juggling four balls in the air at once was enough to get glances, but not enough to truly grab attention. Such pitiful entertainment for the proles, no doubt. Perhaps he should have begun with a bit of music? If only he had his scarves, whose glittering silks changed colors to magically fit one's thoughts and mood. Those were always good for a show. Instead, Antonio decided to up the ante slightly. He began to juggle his four balls with one hand, slowly reaching into his satchel with his left. Grasping the remaining two rubber spheres, he hoisted them up, adding them to the rotation. It was at this time he noticed slight flourishes of color entering the room, a lovely lady in purple, a woman in green (or that was green?), and a most gorgeous of women that, had he been paying better attention, he might recognize as the owner simply by the flourishing style she exuded with each breath.<br><br>Despite the added load of additional rubber spheres, the immediate audience seemed to maintain a minimal interest. A few cursory glances to make note of the newly increased challenge, but otherwise it was still basic peasant's entertainment. To try and spice it up he began to toss one under his left knee, then the next under his right, then left, then right... he did a bit of a hop as he tossed, but otherwise kept the pace by tossing the balls high, giving him some time between each.<br><br><em>Clink!</em><br><br>He resumed basic juggling as he glanced back to the ground, noticing a few coins at his feet. He looked up, noticing the form of an Orc female watching briefly before continuing her circuit across the room. He smiled.<br><br>"The servant pays the servant?" he questioned softly. "Well that just doesn't seem fair." He leaned forward, his hands behind his back, tossing the balls in the air unseen as he looked to a pair of young courtesans seeming to tease the more nervous of new customers. They paused, faces slightly skeptical at first. "What do you say? Puts me in a bit more of a debt, does it not?" He smirked as they giggled, more at the sudden attention than anything he actually said. It was at this time that the entourage of the Pink Hydra entered, their presence drawing much attention. His, of course, was on the two cute little rabbits before him, who now seemed all too happy to flirt with him as he teased and toyed. He shifted his hands so that each was juggling three balls one handed, his mind juggling the possibility of two courtesans at once for the evening. Yet the mischievous look in their eyes suggested the only fun with him they were interested in would result in a bulge in his loose, silk pants, but for them to remain resting upon his waist. They'd only open their legs (or their mouths) to a very specific type of client.<br><br>Antonio gave each a wink as he sat upright, his hands tossing the balls from front to back, his arms and hands shifting to catch and toss from multiple angles. It was then that he heard the most tempting jingle of coin, his eyes following his perked ears to see who was the big spender.<br><br>”The lady enjoys you," a wolfman snarled from a few steps away. The canine head gestured into the corner, where Antonio nearly dropped a ball at the stunning light beaming off the woman. He hadn't noticed her entrance? With such a crowd surrounding?<br><br>Now, perhaps for some the sight of the wolf-men -- and even the orc woman -- would have caught attention, but for as long as Antonio has been in the Bazaar entertaining he has seen many a creature walk and talk. So the wolfman in a suit provided no surprise. The woman, though... she was certainly no courtesan. Her wealth and company were too intimidating. A customer, then?<br><br>With a grin Antonio nodded his head, swiping the coin purse and adding it to the rotation. Six balls and a jingling bag of coin, all seven objects swirling through the air. The stepped carefully forward, around the wolf and between any other clients, courtesans, or staff.<br><br>"Does the lady have any requests?" he asked loudly. "Tricks, perhaps? Or might she yearn instead for a song?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sara Nilsson</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 22:54:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/77/SNorclady.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Snogflog Nosebiter of the Shattered Hand Clan (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13138798#msg13138798)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESEAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Spirited negotiation with a possible client<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Stephen, Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>If Snogflog notices him sneaking up on her she doesn't indicate it, when it comes to orcs and backstabbing they are not as enthusiastic at it as their smaller Hobgoblin cousins who have elevated backstabbing to an artform. In their culture it is perfectly acceptable to stab anyone in the back for some upward mobility as long as you get away with it, in other words as long as the other person doesn't stab you in the back first. Though why they still do it is a bit of a mystery, after all generations of furious stabbing with their curved daggers has resulting in them growing a very thick lump of bone behind their hearts so rarely do any of them die from it. Still by now it is tradition, and why break tradition over such a small detail. It just means you get the stab the other person again at another time. <br>With orcs however, a simple stab in the back is rarely fatal unless you stab them with something more substantial. Like say a claymore, and between themselves they like to settle disputes tusks to tusks in the pit.<br><br>It is perhaps an universal truth that pretty ladies working in any form of bar, tavern, brothel tend to have their behinds pinched. Exactly why males across multiple species find this acceptable after so many thousands of years of never really getting the desired result is another of those little mysteries in life, probably the same reason they still think the size of their junk matters or why women wear shoes designed to murder their feet just to look pretty for men she doesn't really care about as much as she cares about throwing those shoes away and murdering whoever came up with the idea. One of the few scholars in such things, the renowned rakshasa Aadhishankar spent 73 years studding it before he in frustration burned down his entire library and opened up a brewery for what can only generously be called spirits. Mostly because it contained as much alcohol as is possible and nothing else, all to drown out his frustrations with men and women.<br><br>For Snogflog the pinching phase didn't last long, after the first five men had their noses broken and a few arms and legs cracked people got the hint it was perhaps not a good idea unless you are tough enough to handle her. And when the famous flutist Master Lodovico of Milan found himself farting in a very musical manner from having his flute shoved up his rear it pretty much stopped all together. And with very minimal damage to furniture all things considered.<br><br>So when she feels a hand sliding over her ass followed by the pinch there is an audible gasp from those that see what is happening, and more than one person quickly shuffles a few steps back to avoid getting blood on them. Normally she would turn around and knock him out cold but it is his words that stop her, her long ears are not just for show so she hears him quite clearly and the challenge in his words is unmistakable. Now THAT is something she hasn't heard in a while and her mood instantly brightens, today will be a good day!<br><br>Slowly she turns around with a wide grin on her face, that is to say she looks about ready to tear someone apart but her eyes are brimming with joy not anger as she looks him over. Sure he doesn't look like much, but as she knows all to well looks can be deceiving. After all the Madam doesn't look like much other than a stunningly beautiful woman, but even Snogflog wouldn't dare test her strength. So her eyes bore into his before slamming her forehead down on his, not as hard as she can really. Just more of a lovetap to start and gauge his strength. As he staggers back, she takes a step forward and slides one arm under his left armpit and puts a foot before his so that when she all but lifts him up he can't find any traction on the floor. So his body sails in a wide arc through the air and slams down on a table that thankfully breaks in a most satisfying manner and has the added effect of absorbing most of the force. Even as splinters sail through the air Snogflog resigns herself to another fine from the lovely Madam, meh it is worth it.<br><br>“Pleased to meet you, I am Snogflog Nosebiter. Daughter of the Shattered Hand Clan.”<br><br>Oh yes, today is a good day. She leaps over him, incidentally giving him quite the nice view up her leather skirt if he isn't too dizzy to see. But if he manages to see he can clearly see she isn't wearing anything underneath and has quite the adorable tuft of dark red hair on her most intimate of places. She plants herself on his chest and leans forward so that her ample chest seem to be filling his vision now while her hands grip his wrists and pins him down. His move now and she can't wait to see how he will react. Already her heart is beating a strong rhythm from the enjoyment flooding her system with endorphins to get her ready for either a good fight or a good fuck, or possibly both.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sephiriel</strong> on <strong>21-04-2017, 23:58:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Semele (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129368#msg13129368)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Just starting to enjoy the show <br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Antonio; Open <br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em> intrigued glances</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>All eyes of the Pink Hydra group focused on Antonio as he moved passed the bodyguard and staff members. The Dragon-man sneered, he was clearly not impressed and instead smoothly made his way towards one of the many beauties <em>decorating</em> the room. Semele gently laid a hand on the youngster’s thigh, easing his nerves. <br><br><strong>“I don’t mind you sticking around for the show, but I fear you might waste the night away watching other men juggle their balls, Rodrick.”</strong>&nbsp; She whispered almost motherly, while her eyes moved to Antonio. It seemed a bit of a struggle to gaze away from Velen that time.<br><br>&nbsp; <strong>“See that darling gentleman over there?”</strong> she pointed then towards Mr. Jeffrey. <strong>“Go tell him that you’re looking for Lilac.”</strong> In the language of flowers that meant youthful innocence and confidence. Mr. Jeffrey would know that he wasn’t referring to a Courtesan, but unknowingly described himself. That way, Mr. Jeffrey would know which girl to suggest. <br>Remaining alone on the bench with the other wolf-twin to guard her, Semele now had plenty of room to enjoy herself. <br><br><strong>” A song then!”</strong> she said smiling wide, her pearly teeth flashing in the dim-lit corner. <strong>”Make it an inviting one.”</strong> It remained a mystery on whether he was indeed a Groom or not, but with time she would find out for sure. If so, he was most certainly an unusual one. <br><br>Then something unexpectedly entertaining took place. A man flew in a wide arc somewhere at the other side of the room, landed on a table which couldn’t possibly withstand his fall and broke it.&nbsp; Her gaze switched momentarily back to Antonio as he dropped more than half of his juggling balls, including the coin purse. Her eyes lingered some more on the roundness of his rear as he bend over to pick them up. <em>Now that’s what I call entertainment.</em> she thought.&nbsp; <br><br>Amongst the “aaah”s and short cries from the audience came the impressive voice of the Orc girl. The poor fellow didn’t even blink when she threw herself over him. Was this part of the client’s kink, Semele had to ask herself. Perhaps he should’ve been more explicit in his request. “Not to be killed, just at the point of death, you know, the moment when one feels most alive.” She was already spinning a tale inside her head, inspiration for a new play back at the Hydra.&nbsp; As things got rough, the Wolf-man returned by his twin’s side, resuming position. <br><br><strong>“If this goes out in style, remind me to put an ad tomorrow morning at the front entrance: Come to Pink Hydra - where spirits soar high, not the clients.” </strong> She told them and raised her glass towards Antonio, a signal that he should go on with the song. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>22-04-2017, 02:42:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/OV6LkpI.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Chantal (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129713#msg13129713)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESEAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; making the acquaintance of a potential client<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Araxis<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>There was a change in the air, a certain tingle as the loa that always lingered about Chantal beat a hasty retreat.&nbsp; Even here, at the Bazaar, such a thing rarely happened.&nbsp; Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the one whose eyes she had met as she crossed the room, one whom Madame Celeste treated as a peer, approaching.&nbsp; Her posture, already quite proper and straight, straightened even further as her heart stuttered once as she tasted the fear, and swallowed it down so that it was part of her strength rather than weakness.<br><br>When he bowed, she turned fully, giving him the attention that was his due.&nbsp; He was finely formed, and even if she strongly suspected that this form was not the one he first walked in any more than the one the owner of the brothel called her own.&nbsp; That mattered little to Chantal, though, for it was the form that one had made for themselves that was the one that truly mattered, the one that spoke the deepest, darkest truths of what lay within.&nbsp; His was a form worth the seeing, and the sapphirine blue of his eyes suggested to her a soul that saw more clearly than most. What did he see in her, she wondered?&nbsp; Was it her body alone?&nbsp; Whether the answer was no or yes, the answer was equally strengthening, and exciting.<br><br>He extended his hand, and Chantal laid hers upon it, sinking low in a curtsy without regard to the scantiness of the black ruffled lace that could, possibly, serve as a skirt.&nbsp; The movement displayed the tan skin of her bosom, pushed up by the movement and the corset, an invitation to the eyes, and she held the posture until his eyes moved, signaling a desire to see more than the soft fullness of the tops of her breasts.&nbsp; <em>&nbsp; “Araxis.&nbsp; I am Chantal.&nbsp; It iz an honor to make your acquaintance.”&nbsp; </em>Her voice was rich, cultured, and despite the magic of the bazaar, certain of her consonants gave a faint buzz reminiscent of the accent that she had cultivated to enhance her native tongue.<br><br>Before she could say more, a commotion broke out to their right.&nbsp; It seemed that Snogflog had found a suitor for the evening.&nbsp; Chantal hoped that he proved worthy of it, and did not suffer too many bruises, though perhaps he would wear them with honor, like she wore the jeweled ribbon about her neck. <br><br>It did, however, give her good excuse to move closer to Araxis, which she did as her heart thudded more forcefully in her chest, and she made no move to remove her hand until he gave some indication he desired it. <em> “I have zeen you here before.&nbsp; &nbsp;You are not one who iz forgotten, if I may be zho bold.”</em>&nbsp; Certainly, not by those who he had chosen for the night, and not by any other, if they were wise.<br><br>And wise or not, she could not resist the lure, the chance to glimpse at least something of that which lay beneath the shape of a man.&nbsp; It was both her pleasure, and her curse.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Honeycrisp</strong> on <strong>22-04-2017, 03:38:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://68.media.tumblr.com/95fd6679e62e690437e65aca4b07a11f/tumblr_oogroqpARU1tppytvo1_540.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Psyche Makropoulos (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13127525#msg13127525)</strong><br><br><strong>STAFF</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Not Yet<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Semele, Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br><em>Your wish is granted.&nbsp; As you are now, so you shall forever be upon the rise of each new dawn.</em><br><br>For years, how many she refused to divulge even to Madame Celeste, the djinni's words had mocked her pride, her youthful foolishness in asking for what was given without wanting what came.&nbsp; Youth, eternal flawless youth was wondrous at first, a guarantee that she'd never grow old and withered, dried like a formerly lush grape from which the sun had drawn all the nectar and left a wrinkled raisin in its passing.&nbsp; With every new sunrise she felt reborn, fresh and young and beautiful and she'd always be that way, always the goddess in her beloved's eyes.<br><br>Her beloved, even now she could see him standing in the field of just gone straw-gold wheat, heavy feathery heads brushing against the sculpted calves of a just coming into himself man, the muscles visible below his tunic as his brown eyes drank her in and were left ever thirsty for more of Psyche's form.<br><br>Her beloved, brown eyes still bright and keen even as his body had taken on the more muscled, heavier set form of a man in his prime, voice confident and commanding as he ran their estate or discharged his duties to the - to that which had been mighty and yet was now fallen and barely remembered - she didn't even like to think of it at all lest the weight of the years crush her spirit past the point where she could raise it back against the horrible weight of a thousand thousand thousand dawns.<br><br>Her beloved, still hard and handsome and vigorous in their lovemaking if not quite as frequent at it, hair full but going grey, squinting a little to see into the distance but still capable of holding his Psyche at arm's length and seeing her beauty that had not changed a bit since - since then.&nbsp; Since her foolish decision.<br><br>Her beloved, old now, undeniably old and with limbs that shook as if from a palsy, she beside him in the bed, his head pillowed on her lap and Psyche's hands stroking at his brow, singing to him as she'd never sing to the child she tried so desperately to make with him but which, even if it took hold in her womb, was taken cruelly away each new dawn<br><br>Her beloved, dust now in some nameless plain in a land that no longer remembered what it had been.&nbsp; Yet still the hope, the promise from Madame Celeste that one day her beloved would be reborn, adrift in the ocean of time until a turning of waters washed him ashore here, at the very door of this place, and with his arrival her curse would be lifted and she would be a normal, aging, free girl and reunited with her beloved for a second chance at that which she'd cursed and wasted like a fool.<br><br>Every night she watched the door of the Great Room hoping against hope that he would come, that no matter what he looked like she would recognize him as her beloved, but even as hope wrapped its betraying fingers around her heart and squeezed every time a person entered Psyche had learned to willingly make herself numb to its cruel touch and not let it lift her breasts in quickened breath or flush her face with a racing heart.&nbsp; Well, no more of a racing heart than any extraordinary man or exceptional woman might rouse in her with their presence, for another bit of eternal youth was a sexuality so ripe it threatened to burst her skin unless she sated it, her body screaming for the delightful congress of sex and the possibility of having some strong man's child put in her womb, or even a more Sapphic tryst that would satisfy and not lead to the stinging pain of her virginity spreading in a stain on the sheets below them.&nbsp; That eagerness to be plucked made her a favorite among those who had a taste for the unspoiled, the eagerly innocent flesh.&nbsp; The way her body renewed itself also meant she could indulge those clients who wished to corrupt or mortify flesh, to do near terrible things upon it that would break or render useless another girl.<br><br>Sometimes they were both in the same client, and then her purse would hang full and fat and tempting to any thief who even dreamed about it, only to be given away to some peasant girl for the glory of a few hours of playing nurse to a child not Psyche's own that she could sit and cradle, coo to, change and bathe and love and even sleep with its tiny head resting on her arm and lips suckling at her milkless breast, pretending for the love of all that she had given away to make her fantasy come to be real.&nbsp; In the end she'd part, eyes bright with unshed tears that would come out in the privacy of her room, with a family with a babe in arms rich beyond their dreams and with a strange, almost unbelievable tale to tell.<br><br>Drifting around the perimeter of the room, head up and eyes taking in everything, she was witness to the pairs that were forming and the delights that awaited them even now being given life.&nbsp; Thyrnir had returned and he was ever a favorite of hers though they'd never agreed upon an exchange.&nbsp; Men like him had faced her beloved and impressed him so that the tales he brought back, of their raids and fury and warrior spirit had thrilled her even as she worried about her beloved ending up dead by the hand or axe of one such as Thyrnir.&nbsp; The Brides said he was as talented with his tongue as he was generous with coin and it was almost a shame how they fleeced him and made him believe he had a discount on services.&nbsp; Almost.<br><br>A new one, her eyes studied him carefully but no spark, no clenching deep in her belly said that he was hers.&nbsp; A juggler, a singer, as easy on the eyes as his hands made the intricate looping and twisting of the balls appear.&nbsp; A glance at Mr. Jeffrey and they shared a common though; how had he gotten in?&nbsp; So long as he had the fee for a Bride, and it appeared he might earn it easily, then all was fine.&nbsp; Perhaps she should investigate him later to see about retaining him for employment.&nbsp; Mr. Jeffrey, always Mr. Jeffrey like Celeste was always Madame Celeste, noted her thoughtful look and an arched eyebrow said he would look into the matter.&nbsp; Psyche gave him a closed lipped smile and briefly lowered her head, thanking him between equals before she continued her circuit.<br><br>Araxis was present and Psyche knew that if she went close enough to gaze into his impossibly blue eyes she'd be bargaining to pay him for a night of delight.&nbsp; Madame Celeste herself had admitted him to her secret garden and it was one of the very, very few times Psyche had seriously courted temptation enough to consider being foolish and trying to play voyeur - or possibly join even at the edge as a minor but still joyful participant in the congress of flesh.<br><br>Chantal - her heart hurt for Chantal.&nbsp; As a way to check that the curse had not been lifted, Psyche had once gone through a ritual of marking herself every night with blade or candle flame or even her own nails to see if her flesh was whole again in the morning.&nbsp; Like Psyche, Chantal was youthful delight, though more womanly, and her flesh flawless save for two very, very personal scars that Psyche understood so well.&nbsp; She too would bear them but for her curse, though running up along the great veins of her arms instead across them, cut into her skin by her own hands and a bronze blade as whisper sharp as could be honed, bleeding stinging into the hot bath that turned crimson...only to awake in the dawn in a tub of water that stank of copper pennies and her own foolishness.&nbsp; Chantal was poured into a corset that Psyche hadn't seen before and instantly envied, not just for the royal purple color but for the way Chantal's voluptuous curves seemed made by the gods for it.&nbsp; She was striking, truly beautiful, and they were lucky she chose to work for Madame Celeste.<br><br>Nick, Mr. Carlton, seemed the ideal customer.&nbsp; Confident, rich, in charge of himself and so many others that when he needed to cede control to find release far beyond the mere shuddering pumping thrill of an orgasm he would pay handsomely and offer a Bride the rare chance to pamper a man without equal in a way that empowered her and set her above him, above this king of business, and she could fly for days on the heady thrill of it.&nbsp; Or so she thought it might be.&nbsp; He didn't have the arrogance of power and wealth that suggested he'd want a Bride as a mere toy for his amusement - that seemed beneath him when all he would need do is quirk a finger at any number of girls who were waiting in the wings to be his.&nbsp; He was worth investigating further and she needed to make sure he found the proper Bride.<br><br>Snogflog, that delightful dynamo of raw power and uninhibited primal sexuality, had selected her client for the night and marked him, and the floor, as hers for the taking.&nbsp; If he wished to be taken, so much better for him but Psyche did not doubt it was going to happen.&nbsp; He was quite lucky, few were met by Snogflog with this much enthusiasm and he'd soon learn how tasteful her nether hair was in comparison to her lovely green skin...<br><br>Velen lounged, insolently handsome and with illusions so well crafted and practiced about his head that even her jaded eyes delighted in them.&nbsp; The halo made her snort, audible to him where he sat on the bench, and mirth&nbsp; from Psyche's eyes to his told Velen that she at least caught the irony of the imagery.&nbsp; He was so clever, so talented in things beneath and above the sheets, and she'd always wondered just what his tail could do...&nbsp; Catching him watching with knowing eyes, Psyche raised her eyebrows in a haughty yet wholly insincere display of disapproval and winked before turning away to continue her circle to end up near Semele.&nbsp; <br><br>Near, not close, for her guards tensed as Psyche approached and she stayed just out of their zone of angry wariness.&nbsp; "Miss Semele," she said, voice low and gracious as she bowed, hand to head and heart and lips before rising again.&nbsp; "Madame Celeste is delighted you've graced us this evening and hopes you find our offerings nearly as delightful as those you've left behind at the Pink Hydra.&nbsp; How they must miss you already."&nbsp; Psyche stepped aside, knowing Semele already had an agenda for the evening, but Madame Celeste's courtesies had to be paid as surely as a Bride's price must be paid.<br><br>And courtesy through the lips of Psyche cost Madame Celeste nothing.<br><br>After she'd withdrawn, Psyche took up a spot near the door, welcoming arrivals and using her height to keep an eye out over the growing crowd.<br><br>What a lovely bunch they'd attracted tonight.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TyCaine</strong> on <strong>22-04-2017, 05:52:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DNiFcci.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name: Nicholas 'Nick' Carlton (http://[url=[url=http://[url=https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13140334#msg13140334)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Watching and enjoying the show...<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><hr><hr><br>Nick took in everything around him as he walked, ostensibly in the direction of the Madame, but as much to see everything and everyone as for any particular reason. He watched the juggler entertain the woman with her wolfman guards, the younger man who had spoken with the Madame be treated to an orcish welcome with the damage such a thing caused, the dark haired woman approach the blue eyed man who seemed more than a man, the warrior, the clients, the courtesans, the entire bubbling scene as it was watched over by the Madame. And then the redhead entered.<br><br>He knew little about her, but then he had not been here as often as he would have liked since discovering this place, but she was stunningly beautiful, as beautiful as the Madame even, though some would surely question that thought. Either way the people, or perhaps beings would be a better way to describe them having seen a number who were not human here, that this place attracted was astounding and he wondered, not for the first time, why he did not frequent this place more often, <em>"Perhaps I shall from now on..."</em> he said softly, mostly to himself, as it was the perfect getaway from his life back 'home'.<br><br>Not that he wished to give it up as he'd fought too hard for it, and craved the power he had, but to be able to simply.....let go....once in a while was not a luxury he could afford while there.... But here... He smiled, yes perhaps he would frequent this place more often, it might relax him and give him the edge he needed over those who would oppose him and, since he lost no time, no one would be the wiser... The deal with the Devil he had struck might turn out to have been the best play he'd ever made...<br><br>His gaze took in the redhead once more as he walked, now equidistant from both her and the Madame and able to fully appreciate them both. He smiled that predatory smile once more, blue eyes watching them as a waitress passed by and asked if he wanted anything, he shrugged, the expensive lines of the suit making the movement almost regal or...perhaps...presidential, as he smiled and shook his head placing his empty glass on her tray and sending her on her way. He had had enough to drink, at least for now anyway, he had always known his limits, an occupational hazard if you wanted to be sure you were no taken advantage of at an inappropriate time. Now he wanted something more....entertaining....<br><br>His gaze swept the room once more observing, watching, calculating, as a thin smile graced his lips...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Top Cat</strong> on <strong>22-04-2017, 12:04:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/bUvpHLC.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Stephen Downing (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13137161#msg13137161)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Not the response he expected!<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Snogflog, Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Stephen came to rest on the back of a shattered table, the wind knocked completely out of his system. He was about to try to get up when Snogflog landed on him, pinning him in place quite effectively. With her position, he didn't have the strength or the leverage to throw her off. <br><br>But despite his appearance, Stephen was no pushover if a fight. He'd survived for months in the nearly-lawless Bazaar, the first few weeks being functionally homeless. If he was the type to give up just because a fight seemed hopeless, he would have died in his first few days. He considered the situation, trying to figure out how he could break her grasp. Her weak points seemed obvious - her crotch (like most human-likes), her nipples (attached to breasts that were coming close to suffocating him), her face... her <em>ears</em>. If he could just get to...<br><br>&lt;deet deet deet dedededede...&gt; A tone started sounding off under Stephen. His eyes went wide, and he gasped, "Oh, shi..." before he was sent flying again, as the small-scale military grenade in his back pocket detonated due to damage from his rough landing. <br><br>The XM-138, lovingly referred to by the Consolidated States Police as the "Crowd-Buster," was a concussive grenade, made to deal with unruly protesters without causing <em>too much</em> damage. It used tiny, hyper-compressed CO2 capsules, released in one sudden burst, to send things around the point of detonation flying. It could toss a 200-pound man more than 20 feet in the air, and would often knock down people for more than a dozen feet around it. Broken limbs, noses, and the like from being in the blast and tossed around was considered an acceptable level of injury to the authorities.<br><br>When the grenade went off, Stephen and Snogflog were tossed in the air, while tables and chairs nearby (and the table remains they'd been laying on) were blasted out away from the point of impact. If the grenade had been perfectly square under Stephen, Snogflog would have landed on him again, likely causing greater damage than the first time. But because it was off to one side, the uneven blast had an interesting consequence. <br><br>A fraction of a second after the blast, the two of them landed again. This time, though, Stephen was laying on top of Snogflog, his knees over her waist and his hands on her breasts, looking quite surprised, and pleased that he hadn't been hurt worse. <br><br>Stephen's mind spun through the possibilities in the fraction of a second before she could fully react to the new situation. He immediately rejected trying to bluff with something ridiculous, like, <em>That's only a fraction of my power!</em> or <em>Surrender now, or I'll use the <span class="bbc_u">big</span> one.</em> If anything, he figured that would be seen as another challenge. <br><br>After a stunned second, he squeaked out, "I'll bet you haven't done that before..." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>22-04-2017, 13:29:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/fJ9JoZV.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Madame Celeste (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13127459#msg13127459)</strong><br><br><strong>STAFF</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Some nights start with bigger bangs than others<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Well ... it seemed that the young protege had chosen to throw caution to the wind and enter the battle without first bolstering his courage.<br><br>Celeste smiled as she noted Mr. Jeffrey moving to minimize potential damages.&nbsp; The repair gnomes cost a bloody fortune, but she had to admit that it would cost her more to replace things than it did to pay them to fix them.&nbsp; There was a saying she had heard often about not being able to get good help these days, but it was not a true saying, in her not so humble opinion.&nbsp; You could get perfectly wonderful help -- you just had to pay them the worth of their services in the market, and to value them not just for their skills, but for what they brought to the table in addition.&nbsp; Loyalty was a two way street, and succubi had always known the value of making good bargains.&nbsp; She had simply been fortunate in that she had also been taught that bargains made and kept to mutual benefit strengthened the deal exponentially.<br><br>A succubus who understood higher math.&nbsp; She could chuckle a bit at the irony.<br><br>There was no need for her to stay and watch the show, however.&nbsp; Snogflog's negotiations could be quite amusing, but she took it far too much to heart when she won a little too effectively.&nbsp; &nbsp;There were other things that caught her eye, including the movement of her most invaluable 'help', Psyche ... such a nasty curse, but it was one that her former masters excelled at, unfortunately, and thus far none had found the loophole in the bargain.&nbsp; There always WAS an escape clause, but Celeste suspected that when it was found it might not bring happiness, which was a shame.&nbsp; The thing that Psyche gave so unstintingly to others was the one thing she ultimately was denied herself, on a lasting basis.&nbsp; It was, indeed, a demonic cruelty.&nbsp; Celeste could appreciate that for what it was, artistry of the fiendish kind ... even if she would take great satisfaction from turning the curse back upon its maker.<br><br>For now, though, that was beyond her skills, or her power, particularly now that the Abyss was denied her, save through intermediaries ...<br><br>Her eyes fell upon Araxis, who seemed to have found a potential conquest for the evening in Chantal.&nbsp; &nbsp;She seemed a bit tame for his tastes, but then, it was good not to limit oneself too severely in one's pleasures, lest they grow stale.&nbsp; Her pretty little spirit-driven bride would be pleased to be chosen by him -- Chantal had come to prefer those that some of her species labeled 'monsters' more than her own kind, perhaps to banish demons of her own.&nbsp; &nbsp;In that charming, colorful word that Celeste liked to visit, demons were considered a child's fiction, a product of the imagination that represented fears and regrets.<br><br>And, of course, there was Semele, come to spy and to check out any potential new talent -- or perhaps to simply let her hair down in the arms of one whom she only controlled for the space of a night.&nbsp; &nbsp;Celeste didn't mind -- the rivalry between the brothels brought business for them all, as it drew in people who hoped to be present when the next bit of sabotage was unveiled.&nbsp; Boredom was the one unforgivable sin at the Bazaar, to bore and to be boring, and those who were fortunate enough not to be preoccupied with their own existence strove to avoid it at all costs -- and neither she nor Semele were exceptions to the rule.<br><br>Her eyes closed briefly as she heard the muffled explosion, accompanied by thuds, crashing, screams, and shouts of laughter, disbelief, and encouragement.&nbsp; The gnomes would be busy tonight.<br><br>At the bar, Celeste ordered a Bloody Mary, and leaned back against the dark, polished wood, soaking in the atmosphere ... away from the ruckus.&nbsp; Hopefully courtship had progressed enough that they would seek out one of the less breakable areas of the Bride to take the next step.&nbsp; &nbsp;While Celeste did like to watch occasionally, she preferred a different sort of rough and tumble than the impromptu entertainment was likely to provide.&nbsp; It was probably good, though, that she stay close enough to intervene if it was warranted.<br><br>She sipped at the crimson liquid in her glass, noting that this time, at least, they had put in enough tabasco to give the drink a bite, proving her point that it really was easy to get good help these days.&nbsp; And if some took her drink as evidence of the tales of her deeds outside the brothel, Celeste would not complain.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Capone</strong> on <strong>22-04-2017, 15:25:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/callmecapone/Setting%20and%20RP/c35e5c8d72d34eb82d71873cb47124bf.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Antonio Cabrello (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129139#msg13129139)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Unable to upstage the current show<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Semele; The Brawl; Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>"A song then! Make it an inviting one.”<br><br>Antonio flashed his own whites in a delighted grin. Truth be told his arms were getting a bit tired and his fingers were beginning their recovery from plucking at strings for Grumrump. His job was always best when he was cycling through activities -- including being on a unicycle, if one were available -- though he certainly hoped she was more interested in his other bags of tricks. Grumrump had a tendency to be like a child, requesting the same entertainment repeatedly, clapping and laughing at the same thing over and over. There are times when boredom <em>is</em> a good thing for an entertainer. It's just not right at the start of the performance.<br><br>"Until she knows I'm worth every glittering coin," Antonio commented, tossing the purse back to the wolfman who had given it to him. He then popped his hip, the flap to his satchel opening up, and tossed one of the balls into the air for it to land comfortably in its case. As he was tossing the next one in, however, he heard the sudden <em>CRACK!</em> of splintering wood, causing him to jump.<br><br>His eyes widened as if staring into the terrifying maw of a dragon, jaws large enough to swallow a man whole and curse him to the confined torture of digestion. Hands grasped as best as he could to catch the balls in the air, but three of the remaining five plummeted to the posh carpeted floor. Immediately he kneeled, his entire body blushing, his heart-beat racing as he retrieved the fallen spheres and stashed them all in his satchel. He closed his eyes a moment, trying to breathe even. This was not a disaster. No doubt the cause of that crash was a distraction for everyone. It was not the end of his performance...<br><br>Once he was able to put a smile upon his face again he stood up.<br><br>"One does not expect thunder in such a place as this, eh?" he said, beginning to unsling the lute from his back. "Certainly does make me think of a fine tune that is most inviting." Indeed, a song about a man being welcomed back from the rain, made to sound like a wife welcoming her husband from the rain. It ended with a twist, however, as the welcoming woman was in fact a courtesan, in love with the man who was already partnered to another, and so had to leave after every visit to return to a wife with little time for him. So, perhaps not the most inviting of all, but seemed appropriate for the current company.<br><br>He struck the first chord and his eyebrow quirked at the odd tone it gave. A sort of... <em>deet</em>... noise mixed into the -- wait, no, there was the <em>deet</em> again, isolated... and quickening... It was coming from...<br><br>Antonio turned just in time to see the man pinned by the orc courtesan lift into the air, a sudden burst of wind striking all within the smaller confines of the room. Those closest shielded themselves as splinters and furniture were knocked back and the pair lunged forward from their spot, but Antonio was more distracted by the table leg that had flown from the concussive burst, struck another coffee table, and began whirling through the air like a throwing ax towards his new customer.<br><br>The juggler immediately stepped before the woman, ignorant that her wolven guards were already lifting to their feet to do the same. Not that it would have done any good, as the block of pointed wood had already struck before they would have been before her. Antonio lifted his lute to block the oncoming projectile, another shattering crack piercing his ears before knocking him backward. He sprawled onto the woman's lap, the wind knocked out of him for a moment as the world spun about his eyes. The dizzying breathlessness only lasted a few seconds, and out of courtesy he pressed his hands into the bench that sat her, shifting himself from her lap and onto its cushions beside her.<br><br>"Apologies, miss," he said with a smile. "It seems I have been upstaged by the local entertainment. However, perhaps I can add a more thrilling tune to accompany the--"<br><br>The frozen expression was of shock. Not the same shock as before, however. The sort where you feel laughter rise in your belly because of the absurdity of it all. Grasping the fret in his left hand with the fingers of his right hand hovering over the snapped strings, he looked at the table leg sticking out from the body of his lute. Even if all the strings were intact it would not produce the correct sounds.<br><br>"Well," he sighed, still wearing a smile upon his face, "I suppose I owe you an apology, for I shall not be able to serenade you tonight."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sephiriel</strong> on <strong>22-04-2017, 19:21:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><strong>Name:Semele (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129368#msg13129368)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Holding a jewel (or two) on her lap for the briefest of moments <br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Antonio; Open <br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em> None</em> <br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>She was so ready, so eager for it. Semele hoped for a song good enough to match the dynamic scene going on between the Orc girl and her probable client. That would have been the only way to make a real show out of it, instead of a total fiasco in her eyes. Certainly she was always up for entertainment, but it had to be of a certain quality and she had such high standards for improvisation. Instead of giving Antonio an encouraging smile, her icy blue eyes narrowed. She switched from client to patron-mode, ready to evaluate every little detail of his performance: his pose, his facial expressions, his voice and lute, even the way he would address the audience and herself. But then Semele got to evaluate much more than that. <br><br>The second crack came louder and with a doubled effect of surprise. She did not expect a second toss, much less the breaking of yet another (and expensive) piece of furniture. Oblivious to the immediate danger posed by the whirling piece of wood, Semele sensed movement from behind. The Wolf-twins moved in sync, one going around the bench, the other leaning from behind, stretching his large paw beside her as he aimed to catch the threat before it reached destination. He unwillingly pushed the bench then, slightly lifting and leaning it in front, just in time for Antonio to land straight into her lap. Semele took a deep breath, instinctively trying to balance the sudden pressure of his weight. Then just as fast as he landed, Antonio lifted himself and sat beside her, much to the dismay of her bodyguards. They gave a short growl and nothing more, conscious of their failure to protect her from any incoming threats, be they wood or jugglers. <br><br>Semele curled a smile when she finally realized what the hubbub was about. Antonio’s lute was violently stabbed by a kamikaze table-leg. Indeed, he had performed adequately and then some. Any other client would have perhaps shower him with words of gratitude and coins. After all, he valiantly threw himself in front of the impeding doom to save her, sacrificing his beloved instrument instead. The means to his living, the loyal partner of his travels. The voice of his fingers...she made her mental point. <br><br><strong>”I believe there are other ways you can make up for it.”</strong> she said simply and smiled, gazing straight into his eyes. She was now certain that Antonio was not part of the Bride’s staff.&nbsp; He did mention being “upstaged by the local entertainment” which meant he wasn’t a Groom, nor a hired performer. Suddenly his value as a possible catch for the night increased tenfold. Instead of paying for his services, she would seduce him. She felt like she was suddenly on the winning side. She would get to hire him for much less without having to outbid whatever Celeste was paying him. <br><strong>”I am Semele, owner of the Pink Hydra.”</strong> she gave him the back of her hand. <strong>”Am I right to conclude that you are not part of the establishment?”</strong> It never hurt to double-check. All embarrassing predicaments were fun, until they happened to you. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Capone</strong> on <strong>22-04-2017, 20:17:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/callmecapone/Setting%20and%20RP/c35e5c8d72d34eb82d71873cb47124bf.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Antonio Cabrello (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129139#msg13129139)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Making Do<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Semele; The Brawl; Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>”I believe there are other ways you can make up for it. I am Semele, owner of the Pink Hydra. Am I right to conclude that you are not part of the establishment?”<br><br>Questions sprung to Antonio's mind. Question that he knew would be better left unasked for the time being. He had been outside of the Pink Hydra, but had never entered there himself. Brothels certainly delighted him, but even with the wealthiest of clients he was not quite capable of paying the fees required of establishments such as Semele's and Celeste's. For only a moment he began to feel in over his head, but that quickly spurned him only to try all the harder. If he could entertain one such as Semele, then he'd have no place in the Pink Hydra or the One-Night Bride.<br><br>"Antonio," he nodded, taking her fingers in his own. He rested his lips gently to her hand, taking his time to suggest the polite manners expected of wealthier men without lingering too long. Confidence, but not conceit, nor pedestrian desire. "I am afraid I am not fortunate enough to work such a place as this. My good patron and benefactor, Master Grumrump, thought I had earned a night of delights." His hand extended to across the room, where a courtesan had joined Grumrump. A rather small, petite girl, hardly capable of fitting on the chaise alongside the man, her fingers traveling and dancing along the bouncing belly as the man laughed at the show before him. "Feeling a bit out of my element, I did all I could think to do: bring what sparkle and delight to the eyes of those gathered."<br><br>With a sigh he looked back down at his lute, grasping the piece of furniture and drawing it out. It made a tuneless cry, a death groan as he dropped the piece to the floor. Examining the instrument a moment, he flipped it back over, the back still whole, and ran his fingers along his chin in thought. His fingers then began to tap at its various points, head tilted as if to listen.<br><br>"As I said, I may not be capable of serenading you on this night," he nodded, "but that does not count all forms of music out." His eyes turning back up to the man and orc, he rested his hands to the back of the lute, pondering for a moment, before beginning to slap at its back. His legs were parted where the hole in the lute was, allowing the wooden echo to beat out like the rim of a tribal drum. His hands flammed, paradiddled and rolled along the instrument's back, the position of his slap changing the tone of the beat. The tune sounded fit for an ancient performance, one performed by more tribal clans that danced and imitated legendary battles before campfires, lore communicated through gesture rather than word. A soundtrack to the challenge before them, and one most befitting the background of the orc woman that now found herself on her back.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cold Heritage</strong> on <strong>23-04-2017, 03:18:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/e0/ONB_-_Thyrnir_Bjornstruck.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Thyrnir Bjornstruck (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13127938#msg13127938)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Reacting<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>Thyrnir gets aroused from seeing the Brides</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr>Thyrnir drank deeply from his mug of Lentrian Red. Somewhere there was a sommelier who was having a conniption and they would have no idea why. Thyrnir drank the wine from the wooden vessel with no care or love for the crimson liquid, taking it down like other men took in water. For all of his current wealth, Thyrnir's humble roots showed through. He did not have the refined tastes to truly appreciate what he was drinking and did it only because it was the first wine he had ever consumed.<br><br>Like so many things in Thyrnir's life, it went back to when he fought at the great fortress. On a very cold and wet night he was standing on sentry duty, and the toll of the constant fighting had worn him to the breaking point. Thyrnir had been resolved to flee that night. It was not unheard of for men to break and flee. Better, stronger men than Thyrnir had done so. Better, stronger men than Thyrnir had already died by that point. But the Legend was making rounds. It was ludicrous for a man so ancient to be out - the Legend had an arthritic back, water on his knee, and a shoulder reduced to perhaps sixty per cent mobility. Walking along the wall and speaking to sentries - after a full day of fighting! - should have not been on his agenda. But the Legend had come, and spent half an hour speaking with Thyrnir - a callow youth unable to grow a beard. The old warrior had shared wine with Thyrnir. He had said nothing about Thyrnir's desire to flee, though now Thyrnir knew it must have been painfully obvious he was a runner-to-be. And without that talk that night on that cold, wet night . . . Thyrnir would have fled. Perhaps it would have meant much. It might have meant nothing at all for one less boy to stand beside men so tall they rubbed shoulders with gods. <br><br>The melancholy and nostalgic had crept in on the red tide of the wine flowing down Thyrnir's throat. He glanced up as the first of the Brides made their way onto the floor, and he looked hopefully for the sort that he desired most: those who looked least like the race he sprang from. In this respect, at least, Thyrnir pursued a cosmopolitan palate. <br><br>The women who made appearances were all beautiful. It could not be denied. And to see them of course stirred Thyrnir's blood and loins. He shifted in place and adjust his tunic and trousers to be more comfortable as blood flowed to his manhood and it grew quickly tumescent. He saw the green flesh and muscles of the female orc and felt a moment's hope before she found herself approached and engaged with another patron. Thyrnir bit the inside of his mouth and stifled a brief flash of disappointment. The night was still young, though, and it was not enough to sour his mood. He raised his mug to his lips again and drank more. The mug emptied and Thyrnir filled it again. <br><br>The sudden explosion shocked him, and saw Thyrnir standing up straight as a rod. He glanced about, searching for its source, and he could not find some wizard engaged in obvious magic to account for it. The aftermath belied the consternation Thyrnir felt at being unable to comprehend what had occurred, and so he sat back down. <br><br>He drank more wine, and took in the sights. There was so much to see. There always was and it seemed that even for everything that Thyrnir had gone through, there was too much to take in at the One-Night Bride. Rather than overwhelm him, Thyrnir let himself flow with the pace of things. He experienced what he perceived and moved onto the next thing. It was perhaps how he managed to survive walking the planes. <br><br>The adventurer smiled and felt a sense of content take him over. The night was young and ripe and soon enough there would be something else to turn his attention to.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sara Nilsson</strong> on <strong>23-04-2017, 05:40:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/77/SNorclady.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Snogflog Nosebiter of the Shattered Hand Clan (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13138798#msg13138798)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESEAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Negotiating and moving down towards the dungeons.<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Stephen, Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None yet (ominous music)</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Sometimes what can be considered a misfortune can turn into the greatest of boons, the fact that the grenade decides to go off at that point probably saves Stephen a at best serious pummelling or at worst, lots of broken bones. Snogflog does NOT react well when people tug on her ears, and is coming from someone who more than a fair few people consider violent to begin with. While she hears the beeping she has nothing to connect it to so she isn't worried until the momentary flash of panic on Stephens face alerts her that something is wrong just a fraction of a heartbeat before the explosion all but deafens her and throws them both up into the air. Not exactly what she thought would happen so in her stunned state forgets to brace for the landing properly so as she slams into the ground air is exploding out of her lungs when he lands on top of her.<br><br>As the world comes back into focus she notes his weight on her and his hands perfectly placed on her breasts, however the look on his face is quite priceless. Confusion and that smug happiness that something somehow worked warring over who will have dominion, it is enough for her to throw her head back and laugh as he manages to salvage the situation with his not quite cocky but still brilliant line.<br><br>"I'll bet you haven't done that before..." <br><br>With her roaring in laughter it has the added side effect of making her breasts move in quite interesting ways underneath his hands, and she doesn't mind at all that he has them there. He has more than earned that right now, now if he had said something stupid like “That is just a taste of what I can do.” then she would have clocked him cold with no hesitation since it is quite clear he was just as surprised as she was. Braggart to claim credit for something they didn't do she can't stand, but this man now he intrigues her now.<br><br>“That.. that is new. So... not that I mind having a cute guy on top of me fondling my breasts, not at all but well perhaps we should continue this spirited debate in a place with less breakables?”<br><br>Amusement is sparkling in her eyes as she reaches down to tug a large splinter out of her side, she glares at the blood staining the wood before casually tossing it aside. It is after all just a minor wound and will have healed without a mark before they can start discussing things in private. One of the many perks of being an orc, along with the natural charm and beauty.<br><br>“In fact, I insist. Mostly because every broken piece of furniture comes out of my pocket and already we broken quite a bit... aaaaand some people are weaklings who can't stand get in the mood with a spirited fight going on. I know, they are strange but hey to each their own no?”<br><br>When a woman says she insists it is generally known among men that it is a bad idea to disagree, when an orc woman says it even more so. Without knowing exactly what Stephen has in mind Snogflog figures that retreating to the pool area is probably a safe bet. So as he gets off her to allow her to get to her feet she grabs his hand in one of hers and gently leads him away from the common area. A little apologetic smile hovers on her lips as one of the waiters grabs a broom to clean up the mess, she makes a mental note to thank him properly later.<br><br>It doesn't take them many steps until she can peer out to the pool area and much to her surprise the stunning Evi is enjoying the warm waters, not a surprise that she is in the water as such. Evi seems to spend quite a bit of time there but Snogflog thought she would be seducing some charming gentleman and not be spending time alone in the pool. So she assumes that Evi wants to spend some time alone, so some quick thinking leads to the second obvious choice. The dungeon.<br><br>“Oops, seems to be taken but no worries I know the perfect place.”<br><br>A few quick turns and some steps later she pushes the heavy doors to the dungeon open and sucks in a lungful of the cool air. Somehow it always smells so good down here, the scent of sweat impregnated leather, the faint lingering smell of shed blood from a whip or two and of course the heady scent of sex. All in all, perfect for her current mood. And she hopes it will stir his blood as well.<br><br>“Care for a drink? A little snack? Or do you prefer to go straight to the more serious negotiations about why you sought out this wonderful place today?”<br><br>One hand reaches out to run a long nail gently over a rack holding a selection of long wicked whips, then she turns to give him a smouldering look that leaves little doubt what she is thinking of. But she prefers to let him open up the negotiation, after all she is quite flexible in her tastes so she can take her cues from what he will say.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AndyZ</strong> on <strong>23-04-2017, 12:22:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i57.tinypic.com/mwv4go.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Araxis (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13136083#msg13136083)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Chatting up Chantal<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Chantal<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>There were many things about human culture that Araxis had no real hope of understanding.&nbsp; Beards were one of them: he'd taken careful attention to attempt to grow one out in a style that looked suave and sophisticated, but his current appearance was the best he'd managed.&nbsp; Similarly, he didn't understand women who took pains on their appearance and put in significant effort who then balked when one took the time to admire their form.&nbsp; It was like throwing one's coat over a marble statue, to completely fail to understand that beauty was to be appreciated regardless of whether the work of art was alive or not.<br><br>Chantal certainly did not disappoint, and he accepted the invitation of her curtsy to look her over, his lips curling into a smile that could be nothing but covetous and predatory.&nbsp; Yet the way that he kissed the back of her hand demonstrated a practiced refinement that either sought to be more than he was, or had simply seen others do similar and chosen to acquire the custom the way others collected colored beads of glass.&nbsp; Her accent was no less intriguing, leaving him to imagine just how it changed her voice in other ways.<br><br>With the first crash of the orc putting the man through the table, he showed little surprise and barely even glanced over, though he heard everything.&nbsp; Certainly, that demonstrated the level of behavior which the orc possessed: apparently not quite enough to keep from breaking furniture.&nbsp; He wondered how Madame Celeste handled having such repairwork, especially given how expensive repair gnomes were.&nbsp; Still, it was up to her to manage her affairs, and if she could not, he'd be happy to swoop in and start talking deals.<br><br>Araxis had already decided that he wanted to get to know each one of these girls, and he was hardly the type to demonstrate his interest of another when a beautiful creature already stood before him.&nbsp; Perhaps he would find out which of the ladies had an interest in each other, but for the first time, he wanted each one to feel as precious and important as she looked.&nbsp; However, that meant he wasn't watching for something which he'd never before encountered.<br><br><strong>-BANG-</strong><br><br>The sudden force and sound wasn't enough to damage him, but it certainly caught his attention.&nbsp; He tried to wrap his arm around Chantal, wanting to catch her if she would be knocked back by the...what was it?&nbsp; A spell?&nbsp; He had no idea.<br><br>His eyes drifted back towards the mortal who had done it, though.&nbsp; Later on, he would find out.&nbsp; Having seen the man, though, he could discover the strange magic at his own leisure.&nbsp; The sapphire stare returned to the woman before him.<br><br>"Are you all right?" he asked Chantal.&nbsp; If he had to catch her, he would help her back to her feet.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Honeycrisp</strong> on <strong>23-04-2017, 16:23:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://68.media.tumblr.com/95fd6679e62e690437e65aca4b07a11f/tumblr_oogroqpARU1tppytvo1_540.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Psyche Makropoulos (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13127525#msg13127525)</strong><br><br><strong>STAFF</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Scotch for the Gentleman - Black Cherry and Mellow Smoke<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Nicholas Carlton <br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>"What was he drinking?" Psyche asked the girl with Nicholas' empty glass on her tray.&nbsp; A cut of her eyes towards Nicholas' tall form indicated who she meant.&nbsp; He was clad in a suit that had never been touched by anything so mundane as a sewing machine, every stitch put in by hand at great cost in money and time, and it was well spent.&nbsp; It fit him as well as a second skin, moving where it needed to, hugging and showcasing his lean, muscular form in exactly the right places, and of course his cufflinks, tie, and pocket square perfectly complemented and completed the look.&nbsp; He wasn't entirely a pretty man, not like some who came in here, their faces sculpted by magic or surgery into a display of ego and lack of confidence in who they were, but he was a handsome man.&nbsp; Handsome in an almost dangerous looking way and Psyche couldn't decide if his nose had been broken and set or if it was just evocative of the fighter within him.&nbsp; <br><br>"I don't know," the waitress replied and flinched when Psyche's eyes settled on her, almost as if they'd delivered a slap.&nbsp; "I- I'll find out," she stammered and walked quickly to the bar, short little skirt flipping over her perky bottom.&nbsp; It wasn't entirely inexcusable, she hadn't served Nicholas, merely picked up his glass, but it spoke to a level of inattention to detail and desire to be the very best in what she was doing that pained Psyche's penchant for hostessing and organization.&nbsp; <br><br>"Macallan 30 year old-"<br><br>"Scotch," Psyche interrupted the waitress' report.&nbsp; "A single malt, silky finish, scent reminiscent of an orange grove.&nbsp; And not the most expensive but something only a rich man would casually order."&nbsp; Considering, Psyche tapped her lower lip with a finger then nodded the girl away and went to the bar herself, stepping behind it as the bartender moved out of her way.&nbsp; Stretching onto her tiptoes, her dress pulled across her curves, encasing them in rolling silk as she reached up beyond more plebeian liquors to pull down a chocolate brown bottle crowned with gold gone the color of old brass.&nbsp; In another establishment it would have been dusty, allowed to go so by neglect or by the mistaken idea that it bestowed a cachet of value.&nbsp; Here at the One-Night Bride, dust was the enemy of everyone and not allowed to gather much less remain.<br><br>Holding the bottle in one hand and the same hand's fingers hooked into the top of a heavy cut glass tumbler, Psyche walked a path that would intercept Nicholas just in front of the tall, heavy wood gazebo style covered bench strewn with pillows cut from rich brocade.&nbsp; Gliding just in front of him, no hint of a smile on her lips or an expression other than serene calm on her face, the young appearing woman, a girl really, brought him to a stop. Nicholas found her free hand on his broad chest, looking absurdly small and delicate against his muscular frame.<br><br>Without a word she pushed and stepped, never letting the pressure rise above more than a firm guiding touch, and steered Nicholas into sitting on the bench.&nbsp; Turning away from him, the fabric of her dress whispered against his suit clad legs and her bottom just grazed his chest before she sat on his lap, face turned towards his.<br><br>Psyche pressed the bottle into one of his broad hands, "Hold it, please," she asked and then worked the cork out and took the bottle back from him to pour the tumbler half full.&nbsp; "Thank you."&nbsp; Without asking him if he wanted any, Psyche lifted the bottle and held it out to be picked up by a passing waiter, the act giving Nicholas enough time to see it was Glenfiddich, the 40 year old redolent with black cherry and and mellow smoke from the peat fires that distilled it.&nbsp; Green eyes watched his blues as she sipped, lips spreading in a kiss around the rim of the glass and the pink hued mystery of her mouth briefly visible through it.&nbsp; <br><br>Psyche's left hand settled on the back of Nicholas' neck, then her fingers slithered up through his thick hair, the heavy feel of it against them almost as intoxicating as the drink in her hand, and she cradled the back of his head, still looking at him and not speaking, no expression on her face.&nbsp; Again Psyche took a sip of the scotch then held the glass straight out at arm's length and dropped it.&nbsp; Bouncing on the thick Isfahan carpet done in golds and reds, it didn't break but the remaining scotch, irreplaceable treasure from Speyside, spilled out and bathed the two of them in a complex mélange of oaks, leather and toffee.&nbsp; Psyche held the sip in her mouth and pulled Nicholas' head forward, keeping her own in place and not molding it to his as so many other women would have done, so eager for his wealth and power and body that they couldn't control themselves.&nbsp; Fingertip pressure guided him in until his lips met hers in a kiss, an open-eyed, closed-mouth kiss that lasted seconds that felt like hours.&nbsp; Slowly she parted her lips against his, demanding entrance to his mouth, and she let the scotch spill across them and flow over his tongue before following it inside, twining around Nicholas' in an expensive, breathtaking kiss as the fumes from the scotch drifted through her head and his alike.&nbsp; Psyche drew the kiss out, tongue and lips working in sensual pulses against Nicholas' mouth, taking her own pleasure from it and controlling every second if it before she broke her lips free and rested her forehead against Nicholas'.<br><br>Lips a mere thought from his, actually brushing them as she spoke, Pysche murmured, "Tell me what it is you crave."&nbsp; It wasn't a question, like a mere whore would ask trying to earn coin.&nbsp; She was a courtesan, a title reserved for those at the absolute peak of exquisite sexuality, and tonight she was going to take her pleasure with Nicholas, not just deliver it to him.&nbsp; The confidence she exuded warred with the innocence of her freshly reborn body and it was more than the scotch that brought color to Psyche's creamy complexion.&nbsp; &nbsp; 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TyCaine</strong> on <strong>23-04-2017, 22:22:05</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DNiFcci.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name: Nicholas 'Nick' Carlton (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13140334#msg13140334)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Allowing himself, much to his surprise, to be controlled by the redhead...<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Psyche Makropoulos<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><hr><br>Nick's gaze caught the Madame's movement towards the bar and watched how she moved so fluidly and gracefully, his gaze taking in every sensual curve. So focused was he on the Madame that he almost missed the redhead's movement completely, and had to switch focus to watch her move throughout the room, then saw her stop one of the waitresses. Splitting his attention for a moment he watched the two women while his mind considered the fact that the waitress was familiar somehow.<br><br>His life and what he did back in his home dimension relied heavily on the ability to pay attention to details, as details could lead to leverage, and leverage was the life's blood of what he did. His mind retraced his steps as he refocused and watched the redhead speaking briefly to the young waitress and then as she sent her off to the bar Nick's mind identified the young waitress as the one who had collected his glass. Intrigued he watched the scene unfold as he slowly walked, the waitress returning briefly before being dismissed by the redhead who then made her way to the bar.<br><br>He wasn't entirely sure what to make of it and allowed his mind to ponder the problem as, for a moment, he let his attention wander taking in the encounter between the orc and human, as well as the man who was not a man with the dark haired woman. The juggler was courting the attentions of the woman with her wolven guards and the ancient warrior was recovering from the sudden noise further away, so much else was happening within the room that he lost the redhead for a moment until, suddenly it seemed, she appeared in front of him.<br><br>He noticed immediately that she was carrying a bottle and a glass and his hooded, predatory gaze took in her beautiful, if somewhat youthful, appearance and, as he slowed, he realized she was intercepting his path. Now completely focused on her he watched her glide in front of him, the serene expression on her face compelling somehow and then, much to his surprise, her free hand was placed against his broad chest and he, Nicholas Carlton, found himself halted in place.<br><br>A frown creased his brow and his blue eyes flashed in warning, he was not used to being stopped or even approached, he was used to being feared and avoided, and when he felt the pressure of her hand against his chest gently increase he resisted for a moment, his gaze becoming intense, the predator threatening to strike. His gaze raked over her face almost angrily, though he was not in his home dimension his reactions were almost hardwired and the intensity in his eyes burned bright then, as the serenity on her features remained unchanged and she gazed back, the pressure against his chest remaining, confusion began to seep into his eyes.<br><br>A flicker of something like surprise crossed those blue eyes as he felt himself step back, a breath escaping as the frown became concern though concern at himself or her was unclear, then he took another step back as she pushed him further with a gentle almost caressing touch. His gaze flickered between those green eyes then drifted down to her lips, the intensity of his gaze still bright as he yielded another step only to feel the bench behind him and her hand guiding him down to sit.<br><br>The brush of her dress against his legs as he stared up at her was incredibly erotic, and then as she turned he felt the brush of her ass against his chest as his hands moved to the bench to either side of his, gripping it firmly while his mind reeled and tried to understand how this slip of a girl had moved him thusly... Before he could question further she sat on his lap, intimately close and then she spoke. His hand was moving before he realized it confusing him further, making him wonder what power she held over him, over <em>him</em> of all people, as he took hold of the bottle and his mind connected the expensive contents with what he had seen her doing with the waitress earlier.<br><br>He realized then she had been asking what he had been drinking, and he watched as she worked the cork loose before pouring a generous measure in the one glass she had brought with her. The bottle, of the very expensive 40 year old scotch, was whisked away in a moment leaving him to wonder if the glass was for him or for her, a relatively simple fact that under normal circumstances he would have no doubt who it was for, but this was far from normal. His gaze had flickered to the bottle as it left them, only to return to those green eyes, and then those delicate lips as she brought the glass to them and kissed the rim. There was something almost primal prowling behind those blue eyes as he watched her sip, his gaze flickering once more this time to the soft pink of her mouth as she took in the liquor, his tongue appearing briefly to moisten his lips, though he did not realize it.<br><br>When her hand settled at the back of his neck and caressed up into his hair he couldn't help the slight tilt of his head to her touch even as his eyes narrowed slightly, he could feel himself reacting and was almost unable to control himself and that fact, more than any other right then, was strangely intoxicating. He had never been under someone else's control, ever, where he had come from he could not afford to relinquish control, and yet here things were different and he wasn't yet sure what to make of it.<br><br>Their gaze's were locked, his challenging and yet confused, dominating and yet strangely not at that moment, as hers held no expression. His hand had returned to the bench and gripped it tightly as if asserting to himself that he was still in control, still powerful, and yet words failed him, his primary weapon of choice was just out of his reach which was infuriating, and irritating, and he had no idea why... She took another sip of that expensive scotch then held out the glass and dropped it, his eyes widening slightly as it fell and hit the rug, the exquisite liquor splashing out and sending the complex aroma wafting over them causing the frown to reassert itself briefly at the waste...<br><br>He felt her hand at his head pulling him forwards and, for a moment, he resisted as he had resisted her touch before, his eyes narrowing once more as they regarded her before finding himself moving, his head tilting, and his eyes registering that momentary surprise in a fleeting look. Some part of him noted she didn't move her head to his and found the challenge further intoxicated him as any women he had been with before were ever eager to please, and yet this beautiful, youthful redhead whose green eyes held in their depths hints that she knew far more than she should, did not and, in fact, acted more as he would leaving him in the opposite position...<br><br>He swallowed slightly at that revelation, and at the excitement that coursed through his body on that heartbeat, but before he could explore that feeling further their lips met, and his eyes gazed into those deep green pools as time dilated and he felt like he was losing himself. Her lips parted and he felt her demand for entrance into his mouth, and without even registering his choice his own lips parted and he tasted the scotch as it spilled into his mouth from hers. He breathed in the exquisite aroma of the scotch as it teased his taste buds, the tantalizing combination of her kiss and the smooth liquor was breathtakingly​ erotic and before he knew it the merest hint of a moan escaped him, and then their tongues were teasing each other in a sensual dance, his eyes slowly closed to half mast as she kissed him like he'd never been kissed before, and time meant nothing to him....<br><br>His breathing had deepened and his body was reacting powerfully to her body's closeness and the stimulus of the kiss, and when she broke the kiss it left him yearning for more, while his head spun with confusion and conflicted emotions. He felt anger at himself for having, even momentarily, lost control of himself and yet he felt a desire, a need, for more.... Her lips brushed his as she spoke, her words prompting an almost immediate response and, before he could stop himself or think about what he needed, the simple, one word answer spilled from his lips, <em>"You...."</em> he said, surprising himself more than anything as he normally never spoke without thinking about what he would say, or knowing what effect his words would have...<br><br>He swallowed, the frown returning briefly as he tried to regain some semblance of control of himself, but whatever spell she held over him made the thought process painfully slow... He blinked as he gazed into those green eyes and, perhaps for the first time in his life, he realized what he wanted, no, what he <em>needed</em> was not to be in control, but was to relinquish that control to someone, in some way and, since he could not do that in his home dimension for fear of losing his position, or his life, that left here, this woman, at least in this moment...<br><br>The intensity was burning bright in his eyes once more as he forced himself to calm, considering his response fully this time before, finally, speaking, <em>"To not be in control..."</em> he said, his lips brushing hers as he spoke in barely a whisper as though concerned someone might overhear. <em>"To give up control..."</em> he added, before shaking his head slightly, <em>"To lose control... To someone... To you..."</em> he said, his gaze drifting from her eyes to her lips once more, the frown slowly easing as though the act of admitting what he needed had released him from it's hold, even as it led him right into hers.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>23-04-2017, 22:53:13</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/OV6LkpI.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Chantal (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129713#msg13129713)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESEAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; making the acquaintance of a potential client<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Araxis<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Whatever the outer form of this seeker, come to this place in search of a bride for the evening, his lips were warm against her skin and his fingers clutched hers as if she were something rare and precious.&nbsp; It was as much an illusion as his form, but it was a good one.&nbsp; Not only did it fool her sight, it threatened to fool her other senses, and Chantal did not resist.&nbsp; The magic of illusion was the true magic of this place and those who fought against it, to see past the glamour, would only find unhappiness.<br><br><em>“Yes,” </em>Chantal answered softly, but without hesitation, though she made no move to distance herself, though she did spare a glance toward where Snogflog was being, from what she could see, quite effectively groped.&nbsp; Accident, or design?&nbsp; Whichever it was, she would give him credit for making the most of the situation.&nbsp; Hopefully Snogflog would as well.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;It would do the other good to be made much over, even if she, herself, did not see the appeal of violence as foreplay.<br><br><em>“I am zhure you know zhat we all come from many different places, Araxis.”&nbsp; </em>It bothered Chantal faintly to simply address him by one name.&nbsp; For all that she understood the import of her words, it did not mean that all that they knew could always be easily put aside or assimilated.&nbsp; Snogflog and her spirited courtship rituals were, if anything, proof of that.<em>&nbsp; “I am not unaccustomed to zhe occasional disruption, particularly in the pursuit of pleazure.&nbsp; I hope zhat you were not startled?”<br></em><br>Her words were a formality only, her eyes, bold upon his, said with certainty.&nbsp; He did not look like one who would be easily put off anything he had decided to do, or to obtain.&nbsp; If he were, she would be quite disappointed.<br><br>Her calm in the face of chaos was ingrained, even if it did not always soak beneath the surface.&nbsp; A few explosions, a bit of broken furniture, some incidental bruising by those nearby, however, were not nearly enough to ruffle Chantal’s serenity.&nbsp; It was, if anything, vaguely exciting, a sign, perhaps, that the evening would be successful not only for Snogflog and her noisy suitor, but for all concerned.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wyatt</strong> on <strong>24-04-2017, 03:24:33</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6a/ONB_-_Wyatt_-_Andrea.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Andrea Follete (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13135651#msg13135651)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Getting a drink and doing some people watching<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br>Andrea walked into the Great Room form the dressing area, another night of being what her Mother had always desired she would be…a bride.&nbsp; Madame Celeste’s establishment was simply the perfect place for Andrea to now practice her craft and enjoy the fruits and experiences thereof, having been a Courtesan at the One Night Bride for five of her ten years in her chosen vocation and avocation.&nbsp; Arriving for a fresh start after losing the only woman she ever loved, and could never have, Celeste’s sparklingly brilliant reputation, powerful presence and the woman herself, they were all perfect.&nbsp; And yet, true perfection was found in the name of the pleasure palace that was now her home.<br><br>That her Mother had always been so against Andrea’s choice in life, despite her own history as a Courtesan, oft befuddled the willowy blonde beauty.&nbsp; Her Father, like her Mother, practically defined the term sensuality, it was a very large part of why they had been drawn so irresistibly to one another, why he had paid such a fortune to pay off her remaining contract so that he could bring her home to his world and take her as his bride.&nbsp; Truly, she, like most of her class, almost a caste-like social system predominated her homeworld, would choose to follow in one of her parent’s footsteps.&nbsp; Though she understood that her Mother had not become a Courtesan out of voluntary choice, as Andrea had, would she really have preferred her only daughter to follow in the footsteps of her Father?&nbsp; It was not as if Andrea were anything less than a Daddy’s girl growing up, but though the man worked for their government and was considered a warrior of the most revered degree, it was quite a bit of wallpapering over what his vocation actually was…an assassin, and in incredibly renowned one at that.<br><br>The physical gifts that cybernetics and caste-driven selective breeding had blessed those of Andrea’s world that would be considered her peer group led quite strongly to their taking up the more physical and martial of sports, arts and careers.&nbsp; Andrea herself was strong, fast and, if she needed to be, quite deadly, but never by choice, nor by assignment, rather only in defense of herself or others would she strike.&nbsp; Walking into the Great Room, she entered just in time to see Snogflog, such an outrageous and outgoing beauty, an utterly incomparable in Andrea’s mind, hard tossing a rather handsome and apparently frisky fellow through the air and a table.&nbsp; The verdant-fleshed beauty had the undeniable joy and panache to be both warrior and Courtesan, and to wear those titles with equal pride and aplomb, unlike Andrea, whom would kill, and had several times done so, for the Bazaar was not an easy place to live within and stay that way, with cold and ruthless efficiency, seeking only to keep the death she dealt out as painless as possible.&nbsp; Andrea took no joy in it, while she reveled in being a bride, one joined to a partner or pair anew each evening.<br><br>Looking about she grinned at Madame Celeste looking so ravishing and barely even chagrined by the rambunctious activity that the night was starting off with.&nbsp; Chantal was there ahead of her, a true gem of beauty and radiance, she was one of Andrea’s favorites.&nbsp; Psyche moved within the room as if somehow the room moved around her and seemed to have her jade green eyes set upon a powerfully handsome suitor this evening, her skills at setting her lovers off balance being a marvelous thing to watch and learn from.&nbsp; Velen, though not her own taste in partner, was beyond question sexual pleasure made incarnate, and she nodded to him in quietly subtle fashion just as the loud bang and concussion sent Snogflog and her adventurous pursuer off on another aerial adventure.<br><br>Andrea was just far enough from the epicenter of the blast that she left the force of its shockwave wash over her, admittedly a wonderfully bracing new experience, and a waiter walking in front of her was knocked askew in Andrea’s direction.&nbsp; With the speed and strength that were hers by both nature and cybernetic nurture, she caught the man in her left hand, and the drink that had flown off of his tray in her right,<br><br>“A night starting with a bang, Travers,” Andrea mused to the adorably cute and lithe waiter, one of Fae blood, at least half she estimated, one of the many staff beings, and of course gnomes, that made the Bride run with such erotic precision and purpose.&nbsp; Moving the drink in her other hand a few exacting inches to the left, Andrea caught in the glass the fruits impaled on the small plastic sword that had come undone from the drink when the blast had struck Travers.&nbsp; Bringing it to her crimson lips, she took a sip of the sweet and strong concoction, one that tasted like iced tea, but was surely more than that, then turned and lifted Travers from leaning against her for support until his full balance was regained and kissed his cheek,<br><br>“I think it best of you fetch that client a fresh drink, don’t you, but this will do nicely for me, thank you,” she winked at him and shared a smile with him as he nodded to where Semele was standing and winked back at her.&nbsp; Moving off to find a table, her favorites had the tall chairs that allowed Andrea to show off her seemingly endless legs to their most seductive effect, she smiled coyly as she surveyed the landscape to see how Celeste and the rest of the Staff and Courtesans were reacting to the blast and to the owner of one of their direct competitors making such a grand and gorgeous appearance, even as Snogflog and her hopelessly beguiled young man left for a more private locale, knowing that his night would no doubt end with an even more fabulous and earth shaking bang than it began with.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AndyZ</strong> on <strong>24-04-2017, 05:20:21</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i57.tinypic.com/mwv4go.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Araxis (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13136083#msg13136083)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Chatting up Chantal<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Chantal<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>He wasn't always able to easily tell just what would be damaging for humans, but it seemed this had not been.&nbsp; Even so, he decided to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her in, not for any particular reason except to demonstrate that he enjoyed the closeness she offered and wanted her to keep it up.<br><br>As she asked about his response, though, he allowed her to understand, and his demeanor shifted.&nbsp; The gears were turning in his mind, a predator with his eyes on a particular prey.&nbsp; His gaze wasn't quite the same as what he'd displayed to her: he wanted her, but he understood the path to claim her.&nbsp; This was different, something he sought but lacked a current plan.&nbsp; He didn't need to engage immediately; he didn't have to.&nbsp; Some things were a matter of patience, of swooping down only when the time was right.<br><br>"I've never seen magic like that before."&nbsp; The tone was clear.&nbsp; While some feared what they didn't understand, Araxis was ready to battle head-on in order to seek out an answer.&nbsp; He wouldn't rest while a mystery eluded him, and he needed to know whether such a power was truly a threat.<br><br>However, it wasn't immediately necessary.&nbsp; Anyone who possessed that kind of power would probably keep it guarded, and Araxis had ways of handling such reluctance, but they weren't to be used in the One Night Bride.<br><br>He turned back to her, only light disappointment in recognition that he couldn't immediately turn his attention towards acquiring something he wanted.&nbsp; It didn't hurt at all that another something he wanted was right in front of him.&nbsp; "Would you prefer to watch the display, or demonstrate why Madame Celeste has you as one of her courtesans?"&nbsp; He smiled to her, his attention once again undivided.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gilgameshian</strong> on <strong>24-04-2017, 05:49:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s22.postimg.org/t5zdc0k4h/Jensen_Ackles_2004_by_John_Russo_-_12004.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Velen Fortensa (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13131617#msg13131617)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Approaching a potential client<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Semele, Antonio<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br>There was always something happening in the Great Hall and today was no exception as Snogflog seemed like she had found herself a client for the night whether the poor man knew it or not. Everything he'd heard about her was how powerful she was, talented she was, and more than a few men whispering about how intimidating she was. To Velen she was a unique woman that was perfectly suited for this place. She was exotic, by nature, and certainly unique in her methods and mentality. While he wasn't as close to her as others, perhaps, he was certainly fond of the woman. And even more fond of the entertainment she could make with such a simple action.<br><br>But his attention did not remain there for a long as a woman met his eyes and let them linger. He grinned back at her with a little predatory delight playing across his features. A glint in his eye and a supernatural grace to his steps he started moving through the crowd. Effortlessly he grabbed a drink from a passing waitress while managing to avoid every single patron. Except for the ladies who he always drew just a little closer to to see if he could get their hearts racing. He lived for that kind of thing after all. Quite literally given his incubus nature. But he didn't feed on that pleasure. Not here and not now. Madame Celeste had been clear that as long as he was here he needed consent to do that. Some people tended to freak out if you just started feeding.<br><br>As he passed through the crowd he saw a few of the other brides working. Andrea, just making her way out, was the picture of beauty. Designed that way and with a power that made her not unlike him but using technology as opposed to his magic he was fond of the woman. Not bedding her, perhaps, but she was certainly one worth talking shop with as it may be. Chantal was also working her way through the crowd here. Stunning as ever the woman was every bit brilliant and beautiful with every move. He tended to have more fun trying to outwit her on the rare occasion he wasn't just being a plain playful trickster. Madame Celeste herself was among them. He owed the woman a great deal and she was perfectly stunning. She was a succubus, full blooded, so he was in awe of what she could do and how well she knew how to deal with her clients, staff, and anyone else. Truly she was a role model in a number of ways. Psyche was just as unique as the rest of them. He had been here for a little while now and it seemed like she never aged. Cursed though she might be she had eternal youth which most people would die for. And a fair number did for that matter. She was perfectly gorgeous and even a glance was enough to make men swoon in their own way. Velen himself still wasn't entirely sure what he thought of her though.<br><br>But he focused his attention on the woman who was now talking to an entertainer of sorts. The illusory dragon perched on Velen's shoulder with little plumes of fire coming from its mouth as the petite dragon tried to look intimidating and spectacularly failed. Or at least that's how he wanted it to look. The more intricate the illusion the easier it was to sell clients on his power. This dragon was about the size of his hand, covered in small red scales, gold jewelry adorning its horns, and the plumes of fire were a spectacular blue color to denote the heat it would have if it was actually breathing fire. The musician by her side was beating on his instrument in an attempt to play a song of some sort. Velen couldn't tell what at a casual listen but he had to admit the man had a good sense of rhythm.<br><br>Ignoring the two guards, because he was sure they wouldn't see him as a threat, he approached the woman. Once he was closer he recognized her. She had been here before but more often for a bride rather than a groom like him.<br><br>"Lady Semele," he said as he stood not more than a few steps in front of her "a pleasure to see you here. I see your guards are as friendly as always."<br><br>Casually cutting the distance short he slipped onto the bench with just barely enough room between them to be considered decent in most circles. He kept his smile broad and brilliant as the dragon on his shoulders took flight doing a few circles around her guards before perching atop back of the bench.<br><br>"What brings a lovely woman like you here," he said "perhaps you're seeking the services of a bride. Or perhaps you've decided that a groom might be worth sampling this week. I happen to know quite a few of them."<br><br>Velen looked over at the musician who was beating away on his instrument. He wasn't one of the hired entertainers but his narrow focus on Semele had made him act without tact or manners.<br><br>"Ah, pardon me fine musician," he said with a nod "do forgive me if I interrupted. I might be able to fix that lute of yours as payment for my unfortunate lack of manners in greeting you if you would like."<br><br>While the look before had been almost predatory up close was a different story. Perhaps it was just the incubus in his blood that, at a distance, gave him the eye of a man on the prowl. As close as he was the jovial mannerisms from the eager motion of his hands to add emphasis to his words to the vibrant color of his eyes. For someone called "Demon Prince" he certainly didn't seem all that devilish on the face of things. Of course Semele might notice the spade tipped tail peeking out from behind him slowly moving towards her leg so it could brush against her thigh. A light gesture but one that, if unchecked, could easily progress further.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>25-04-2017, 02:24:49</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/OV6LkpI.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Chantal (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129713#msg13129713)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESEAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; making the acquaintance of a potential client<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Araxis<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>His arm was gentle, yet strong.&nbsp; Since coming to the Bazaar, Chantal had come to learn, to understand, that there were many degrees of strength.&nbsp; Yet after a point it mattered little how truly strong the one that held you might be, for you would be left just as broken if it took but a tenth of his strength or its entirety.<br><br>The loa had given her this gift, the gift of mastering her fear, of turning it to desire, and the courtesan did not shrink from it, but welcomed it and even dared to reach for his arms.&nbsp; Her long, slender fingers tipped with squared nails, buffed and polished to a soft pink shine, closed about the arm, stroking over the fabric of his shirt, acknowledging his claim.<br><em><br>“He spoke to Madame when I passed by, zhe possessor of zhis magic.&nbsp; &nbsp;She haz buziness with him in zhe morning, after he haz had his pleazhures.&nbsp; She wishes to hire him, I zhink, but I do not zhink she wishes for him to be a bride.”</em>&nbsp; Chantal’s eyes smiled as she looked up into those jewel-hued eyes, tracking the lines of his face, the smoothness of his cheeks, the dark beard that framed lips that looked capable of being both sensual and cruel. <em> “I betray no confidence.&nbsp; Zhe does not conduct buziness in public if it is zhomezhing zhat zhe would keep zhecret.&nbsp; Zhis you know.”&nbsp; </em><br><br>It was something of a concession, her recognition of Araxis as one of note within the walls.&nbsp; She would not have betrayed Madame – Chantal understood the concept of loyalty very well.&nbsp; Yet she also understood the benefits of making herself useful in small ways that went beyond that which her body could give. <br>&nbsp;<br>And, also, it might well keep him with her for the night, instead of chasing another desire, if it were likely that he could have both.<br><br><em>“Zhere is always somezhing to watch here, Sir.&nbsp; I would watch with you, if it iz your pleazhure … yet I would razher give you reason to turn your eyes upon me inzhted.&nbsp; Your eyes ... zhey are beautiful.”</em><br><br>She had trained from an early age to give a man her undivided attention, whenever he wanted it, however little she truly cared for his doings.&nbsp; With Araxis, with all those who were more than men, she did not need to pretend, and perhaps that was the most refreshing thing of all, as shiny and irresistible as the glitter of gold and gems, the cool allure of platinum and silver.<br><br>And the show, the dance, in the reception room, would go on without them, this night and all the nights after, always the same, ever changing.&nbsp; &nbsp;Perhaps she should have feared it, but her fears had long been focused on another thing, and boredom and fear do not make compatible bedfellows.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Honeycrisp</strong> on <strong>25-04-2017, 02:59:28</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://68.media.tumblr.com/95fd6679e62e690437e65aca4b07a11f/tumblr_oogroqpARU1tppytvo1_540.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Psyche Makropoulos (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13127525#msg13127525)</strong><br><br><strong>STAFF</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> The Heart Desires<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Nicholas Carlton <br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Honesty's reward was the first emotion she'd allowed on her face since deciding on the night's course of action, a smile that spread her generous lips before they parted even as her eyes shut, and their plump softness settled atop Nicholas' own in a sweet, lingering kiss.&nbsp; Lingering like lovers in a late afternoon bed, limbs heavy with sweet exhaustion, Psyche's lips slid across Nicholas', wet and warm and loving in the way they spread his apart so her tongue could taste him and offer her own in return.&nbsp; Nibbling at them, she drew the bottom between hers and sucked lightly at them then chased his tongue back into his mouth, dancing her own with it before pulling away, a single strand of their love between them until it broke.&nbsp; Psyche's eyes opened, green flecked with copper in their depths, and the smile remained even as her hand remained cradling the back of his head, holding him to face her with a firm pressure.<br><br>"Do you know how many men want me?&nbsp; Want to possess me, sate themselves upon my body, desire me to make them feel strong and virile, need to use me?"&nbsp; Shaking her head slightly as if to dismiss them, Psyche looked down at his chest.&nbsp; Nicholas felt her free hand slide inside his suit and pluck at the buttons of his shirt, opening a path for her hand to slide inside and across his skin, fingertips stopping just short of his nipple.&nbsp; "All of them" she answered, then drew her hand free and moistened her fingertips in her mouth, eyes watching Nicholas as she licked each in turn then kept watching him as the now cool, wet digits returned to the skin of his chest, leaving shivery trails in their wake.&nbsp; Circling his nipple, she drew a mark of her intent across his sensitive flesh, then the fingertips closed about the tiny nub of flesh and pinched lightly, just once, before she brushed her thumb across it.<br><br>"Shhh," she whispered, and moved her hand to the back of his neck.&nbsp; "Not a word.&nbsp; If you speak before I let you, I'll leave and no amount of coin will bring me back."&nbsp; The fingers of Psyche's other hand set up a rhythmic swirl in Nicholas' hair, massaging his scalp and keeping him from drawing his head back.&nbsp; Again she thumbed his nipple, then left it in place and pressed firmly on it, as if to push it back into his body, feeling it as a hard spot beneath the pad of her thumb.&nbsp; A dozen, then a dozen more heartbeats she kept it there until she knew that she'd pressed all the blood out of it then Psyche let it free and simultaneously slid two fingers on either side, stroking it like a tiny cock and felt it engorge with blood, knowing the sweet aching sting Nicholas must feel.&nbsp; It wasn't pain but intense stimulation and Psyche enjoyed the shuddering it brought to his muscled chest.<br><br>"Every man wants me," she repeated, moving her head to murmur in Nicholas' ear.&nbsp; Her lips closed around the lobe, suckling it as her tongue slid out to dab at the spot just behind it, stroking across it in a long, wet kiss before she withdrew her lips.&nbsp; "They're so...weak.&nbsp; You're the only one who is strong enough to offer himself to me for my pleasure."&nbsp; Inside his shirt, Psyche's hand slid down from his nipple and onto the rippled abdomen below.&nbsp; <br><br>"I accept," she said and scratched her nails across his stomach, raking them up and up and up till just below his ribs before her palm took their place, soothing in a downward stroke against the faint weals.&nbsp; "I accept control of you and I accept your worship of me, of my body and of my power, and I will reward you for every devotion you render unto me."<br><br>"You're done making decisions.&nbsp; You've no more power to wield.&nbsp; No one relies on you to guide them or decide their fate or give them your wisdom and control.&nbsp; Not tonight," Psyche said, voice firm but sensually husky.&nbsp; "Tonight, I'm your world and your goddess.&nbsp; Surrender all of that to me, my love, and know the release of worry."<br><br>Pulling back, Psyche searched his face, watching the emotions roll across his eyes, and felt control course through her veins like the kiss of a golden needle full of juice of the poppy.&nbsp; "Pick me up like a bride, then lay me down on these cushions and love me with kisses until I tell you to stop."&nbsp; Arms settled around his neck in preparation of the incipient delicious moment.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TyCaine</strong> on <strong>25-04-2017, 17:24:57</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DNiFcci.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name: Nicholas 'Nick' Carlton (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13140334#msg13140334)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> What the heart desires...<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Psyche Makropoulos<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><br>Nick was still coming to terms with the words of his admittance to the stunningly beautiful redhead perched on his lap, when those very same words caused her generous lips to form a smile moments before they pressed lightly against his. He could still taste the expensive scotch on them as he felt her hand on the back of his head holding him in place, though in that moment the very last thing he was considering doing was moving. His blue eyes closed to half mast once more as her lips and tongue teased his lips apart, and his breathing deepened further in response to the sensation of her nibbling.<br><br>The act of her lips drawing his bottom lip between hers to suckle lightly was incredibly erotic, as was much that this woman did it seemed, and then his tongue was responding in kind to the intrusion of hers, teasing and dancing with it until she pulled away, breaking the kiss and leaving him breathless... He was still recovering his breath when she started speaking, his eyes opening to find those wonderful greens gazing directly into his as he became aware once more of the touch of her hand.<br><br>Her question then shake of her head distracted him from the movement of her other hand, and then when her gaze dropped calling attention to it his own gaze dropped as he felt her undo the buttons of his shirt, moments later the touch of her fingertips on his skin caused a ripple of movement across his chest. Unlike many in power where he came from, Nick was very much in shape, not overly muscled but toned, defined, with a strong, lean build, and as he fingertips explored his eyes flicked back to her eyes. He swallowed, about to answer her question, though what he could think to say was an uncertainty as his words, his weapons of choice, were failing him once more, but she answered her own question in that instant, and withdrew her hand.<br><br>His breathing was deep, harsh, almost panting and he felt excitement, and arousal, coursing through his body until he was certain she would feel the effect she was having on him as his hardening member, constrained within the tight confines of the exquisitely tailored suit, nudged lightly against the underside of her thigh where she sat across his lap. He couldn't think of any of that though as his gaze flickered once more to her lips, watching intently as she moistened each of her manicured fingertips in turn, before trailing them back over his chest, his gaze following them as they returned to his flesh. His breathing skipped at the touch and then, and for a moment, his gaze lost focus as her fingertips circled his nipple.<br><br>Conflicting emotions warred across his face, for one used to being in absolute control, having none was a completely new experience which danced between both exhilarating, and terrifying, though what he had to fear from this slip of a girl he did not know. That this yearning need to be controlled, dominated even, had finally made itself known to him was eye opening to say the least, but once more any such thoughts or attempt at thoughts was dashed as her fingertips closed around his nipple and pinched it lightly. His eyes regained focus and flicked to hers, an intensity flashing brightly across them, the powerful man, the predator, giving a warning... But even as he struggled to find the words, the redhead shhh'd him and his body reacted, his hands tightening until white knuckled on the bench he was seated on even as his back straightened slightly and his head thrust back against her hand, but as lithe a form as she had, she held in her a strength he could not fathom.<br><br>He was panting now, the intensity in his eyes becoming softened by confusion, at her actions or his body's reaction was either of theirs guess, but even as she spoke he felt his arousal grow stronger, his, now hardened, member still cruelly restrained nudged more insistently against her, but otherwise he remained still. His grip tightened still further, causing toned muscles up his arms and across his shoulders to harden, as tendons corded slightly in his neck as much to remain in place as to prove in some small way to himself he still had some control, didn't he? The tension in his body was intense and a frown had creased his forehead as he gazed into her eyes, the intensity in his bright blues burning brightly though no longer a warning, but something more, something as yet unreadable as he felt the caressing touch of her hand as it swirled into his hair.<br><br>He felt her other hand teasing, then catching hold of his nipple once more but her words rang loud in his ears, as much as he might wish to speak he kept his words, what few remained at this point, to himself as heartbeats passed and he felt the pressure more acutely on his nipple. The corner of his right eye twitched slightly as he stared at her, his body whipcord tight as he took a shaky breath, and then she released the little nub and stroked it almost phallically causing a breath to catch in his throat at the intense sensation the rush of blood caused, followed a moment later by the breath escaping as a soft hiss through clenched teeth at the aching sting that was soon softened by the caressing touch.<br><br>A muscle pulsed in his jaw directly below the twitch in the corner of his eye, as though they were connected, and his chest heaved and shuddered with every breath as his eyes flashed again, the frown on his forehead undulated, alternately softening and growing more intense as he felt the effects of her teasing crash over him. His mind reeled, never had he felt so completely under the control of someone else, and some part of him knew this was barely the beginning, this was just the foreplay, in fact this was barely the coffee, before the cab ride home, before the frantic disrobing, before the foreplay... He blinked as he comprehended what that might mean, and then realized the beautiful redhead had leaned in close.<br><br>Her words teased him as her breath washed over his skin, and then those plump lips captured his ear lobe and suckled on it, his eyes closing a moment as a shudder passed through him, the muscles of his abdomen rippling and trembling as her hand drifted down. Then her nails were dragging across his stomach, scratching over his skin, his eyes snapped open and another hissed breath escaped his lips, before becoming something close to a moan as her palm then smoothed over the marks she'd left. He swallowed, as her words sank in that she accepted him.<br><br>The next moment he practically trembled as she told him he was done making decisions, as she told him he had no more power to wield, that no one needed his guidance or control, and his gaze flashed a moment, the hardwiring not quite able to understand that he was no longer in control, but then when she told him she was his world, and his goddess, and told him to surrender to her the softest of moans escaped his lips. When she pulled back his eyes refocused on hers, confusion conflicted with domination, surrender asserted itself over control, and he fought to take shaky breaths, the twitch in his eye and the pulse in his jaw easing as he gazed at her.<br><br>Her arms moved languidly around his neck as her words, her command, took a moment to register, then he was releasing his tight grip on the bench, the tension in his body shifting slightly as his one arm slipped under her legs, the other moving to support her back, and he lifted her easily as he stood. His breathing was still deep and his body was like a wire pulled tight, his eyes never left hers as he moved to the cushions as she asked and knelt as he lay her down on them. There was some glint in his eyes that spoke of how incredulous this was to him, that someone had taken such control of him, over <em>him</em>, Nick Carlton, but whatever power she held over him was almost complete.<br><br>As she lay back against the cushions he leaned in to kiss her lips, almost tenderly before allowing his lips to trace down the soft line of her jaw to her neck where his lips and tongue teased that soft skin. He was holding himself over her, his suit jacket open and shirt open to his waist, and the prominent bulge in his pants showing how excited and aroused he was, but with a shuddering breath he ignored it all as he focused on the task she had set him, blue eyes bright as he watched her reactions to his touch, and he trailed kisses over her body wherever they could reach bare skin. Nick eyes flashed once more, the dominant part of him trying to assert control once more, after all she was practically at his mercy, and yet something held him back, the struggle clearly evident in the depths of his eyes as he trailed kisses over her.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sephiriel</strong> on <strong>25-04-2017, 20:15:47</strong>
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				<br>&nbsp;<strong>Name:&nbsp; Semele (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129368#msg13129368)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Surrounded by delights<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Antonio, Velen; Open <br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em> Indecent proposals</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Unknowingly, Antonio had advertised himself as an entertainer in the best possible light. Just from the few words of introduction Semele understood that 1. he was not employed by Celeste and 2. he was a diligent worker, utterly in love with the business if he preferred to show his skills instead of chasing skirts paid by his current patron.&nbsp; The proverbial cherry on top was revealed when he started using the broken lute as a drum. This showed that Antonio was an excellent improviser, just the talent Semele was looking for. A pity that he wasn’t a Groom, she would’ve hired him on the spot and test the hell out of him. But then again, who said he wouldn’t become one if she was convincing enough? <br><br>&nbsp;She took a long, scrutinizing look at him, as the tribal rhythm made her hips want to dance and sway. It was a real delight to watch his sculptured arms move as he held the lute between his legs and to see his large hands hit the back of the instrument. Antonio was clearly enjoying himself, attentive to the reaction of his audience.&nbsp; It was captivating, really. So much so, that Semele became oblivious to her surroundings until Velen came close enough to address her. <br><br>&nbsp;"Lady Semele, a pleasure to see you here. I see your guards are as friendly as always."<br><br>The little dragon on his shoulder flew around, forcing her eyes away from Velen’s seductive smile before it landed on the bench. <br><br>"What brings a lovely woman like you here, perhaps you're seeking the services of a bride. Or perhaps you've decided that a groom might be worth sampling this week. I happen to know quite a few of them." <br><br>She gazed into his brown eyes and just had to smile at the remark. Everything from the red streaks in his hair and pointed ears to the toned muscles slightly hidden underneath the fine suit screamed the exotic despite his best efforts to tone it down. <em>Perhaps not his best efforts</em>, she thought and with a swift, yet coy glance at Antonio she waited for Velen to finish speaking before making a reply. <br><br>&nbsp;"Ah, pardon me fine musician, do forgive me if I interrupted. I might be able to fix that lute of yours as payment for my unfortunate lack of manners in greeting you if you would like."<br>&nbsp;<br>The offer was unnecessary, Semele thought. She was already looking to return the satchel of coins she initially offered and then some for a new lute. She made a mental note to add quality instruments to her hiring offer and complete freedom of choice for his costumes. Her thoughts dispersed at the touch of Velen’s tail making its way up her thigh. A most delightful surprise.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br><strong>"I already have my mind set on you tonight, Velen." </strong> she finally replied, parting her thighs just slightly, allowing the spade tip to slide along her leg just beneath the risen skirt of her dress. <strong>"Will you consider it or show me those that are <em>really</em> worth it?"</strong>&nbsp; Semele was aware that the last remark would sting a bit, even if she was just teasing. But he had to pay somehow for even considering the others, which she already knew and dismissed for the time being.&nbsp; <br><br><strong>"As for Antonio’s lute, you need not worry.</strong> she went on, this time searching the room with her cold gaze before stopping at one of the darkened corners near the bar. <strong> There are other...instruments he can play tonight." </strong> Meeting Vibeke’s eyes, Semele summoned her with a beckoning finger. <br><br><br><hr><hr><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Vibeke Veland&nbsp; &nbsp;(https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13145390#msg13145390)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESEAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Unexpectedly unprofessional of her <br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Semele, Antonio, Velen; Open <br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><hr><hr><br><br>The night’s events almost had her late for the opening act and late for the usual selection of clients. No, it wasn’t Snogflog’s playful little brawl with the newcomer, nor&nbsp; the untimely arrival of a large shipment of booze almost having been sent through the front doors. Luckily, the staff members were quick as usual to detour the carts to the back entrance of the Casbah. What almost kept Vibeke from honoring her timely record was a man. She couldn’t downright call him a client because he never paid for the offered services. He somehow managed to slip away the other week without paying the lovely creature who did her best to please him.&nbsp; He had the gall to return during the day asking for special service from Vibeke herself as he flaunted his coins before the staff. He was well-dressed this time and changed his hairstyle and color, but the quiet woman recognized his slightly limping walk. <br><br>It wasn’t her job to revenge the courtesan he cheated that other time,&nbsp; it wasn’t even her duty to pinpoint him to the owner. Yet the way he addressed her and the staff, entering in broad daylight and crudely boasting with his money ticked her off.&nbsp; Mr. Jeffrey kindly offered to escort the man out&nbsp; despite his ability to pay big money.&nbsp; Madame Celeste ran the One Night Bride with the right to choose her clientele and the man didn’t look like he was part of it. But Vibeke welcomed him in her usual expressionless manner and guided him straight into the Madame’s Delights Room. She got him hot and ready, blindfolded and gagged him, tied him up really good. But when it came to actually provide the service, she left him at the mercy of the house gnome who could give just a good a whippin’ as she, except for the targeted spots on his body. The old gnome was blind as a bat and was versed in the sexual acts as much as a monkey wielding a stick. He battered the unlucky sob like he was a pinata.&nbsp; <br><br>Dressed from head to toe in black, she was now at the bar gauging the clients. The woman made for a striking appearance, all fully clothed and obviously overdressed compared to the other courtesans. She chose a shiny black corset trimmed with silver studs at the upper end and a tight pair of leather shorts complimented by high heeled boots that reached up to her thighs.&nbsp; She left her signature black roses flower band behind for the night and opted for a braided crown made from her own mahogany locks, leaving the rest of her hair loose on her slender back. The dark, smokey make-up enhanced her sultry, mysterious gaze, but the center point of her beauty were her red luscious lips. <br><br>When Semele curled her finger, inviting her to approach her bench, Vibeke didn’t instantly move.&nbsp; She took her time to inspect the group surrounding the blonde patron. It wasn’t the first time she and Semele had met and she knew her bodyguards well. Of course there was also Velen, the ever-charming Groom who she was in more than one occasion tempted to …devour. The Half-Elf, Half-Incubus tease made for a perfect toy if only he’d allow himself to be collared and properly spanked, not like the soft tricks he pulled on his gullible clients. There was something incredibly enticing about his tanned skin which made Vibeke wonder how deeply red it could get under her care.&nbsp; <br><br>She wondered many things in fact, including what it would take to break that playful, jovial personality of his, to wipe that charming smile off his face and turn it into ecstatic pleas for mercy.&nbsp; Then her cruel eyes lingered on the musician. She didn’t remember Madame talking to him about any entertainment for the evening, was he seriously trying to make money off of their hard-work? Well, she just might want to make sure he’ll never consider it again. Perhaps she will even enjoy teaching him a lesson or two. <br><br>With these thoughts in mind, the tall courtesan moved slowly towards her new client, wondering if Semele was fond of a Bride’s company tonight or had something else in mind. With her no one could ever tell for certain, she rarely visited them and when she did it looked like all she wanted was to put them in some kind of difficulty. Well, Vibeke would just have to match that intention somehow. When she walked, people would move out of her way, intrigued and compelled to get as far as possible at the same time. It didn’t take long for her to stand before the eclectic group.<br><br><strong>”Vibeke, this fine gentleman owes me a serenade and seems to lack the equipment for it. Would you be so kind as to help him reach those high notes on his own?”</strong> Now that sounded absolutely dreadful and quite dangerous, but Semele was obviously joking. She just wanted to see Antonio’s reaction, perhaps even watch the color driven out of his complexion for a moment. The tall courtesan knew Pink Hydra’s patron well enough to catch on that hint and offered Antonio a questioning gaze. <br><br><strong>”I’m thinking that the pool should make for a perfect <em>mise en scène</em> for a moonlit serenade. Shall we move to the Oasis?</strong>” the blonde woman asked not without a hint of amusement. <br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AndyZ</strong> on <strong>26-04-2017, 04:17:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i57.tinypic.com/mwv4go.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Araxis (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13136083#msg13136083)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Chatting up Chantal<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Chantal<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Chantal explained about the man, and Araxis smiled all the more.&nbsp; It was the first recognition of intelligence he gave her, something going on as more than just her body, and he was pleased.&nbsp; Intelligent women were not a threat to him; nothing was.&nbsp; Nevertheless, he was still curious about that particular brand of magic.&nbsp; "It's worth extra gold to me if you find out how it works and how the magic can be acquired."&nbsp; He mentioned a number of coins, certainly fair for retrieving information for him, perhaps a little high.&nbsp; While he'd certainly be disappointed if she truly betrayed her Madame, having someone who could find out things for him was invaluable, and he was more than willing to pay for the service.<br><br>With that situation handled, his eyes turned back to her in full, especially after her comments about his eyes.&nbsp; From his perspective, it had always been an imperfection, one more thing that kept him from fully blending in with humanity when he took their form.&nbsp; However, humans saw so poorly in comparison; it didn't really surprise him that he couldn't mimic such flaws.<br><br>"So how much?" he finally asked, his expression demonstrating that he'd already decided to pay.&nbsp; It wasn't as pleasant of a position for negotiation, but he wanted to hear it from her own lips.&nbsp; Whatever number she gave would tell him about her, whether she olderpriced or underpriced, especially when compared to the other courtesans.&nbsp; If he was ever to claim this place, he needed much more information.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Capone</strong> on <strong>26-04-2017, 14:53:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/callmecapone/Setting%20and%20RP/c35e5c8d72d34eb82d71873cb47124bf.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Antonio Cabrello (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129139#msg13129139)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> While being the center of attention is part of his trade, he's not quite used to being the center of this sort of attention<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Semele, Velen, Vibeke<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Antonio's drums did not stop as the new gentleman approached. As Antonio was merely there to entertain, and largely in order to keep from feeling awkwardly out of place, he had no problem having Semele's attention torn from him. In fact, he quieted his drumming a bit, allowing the two a chance to speak without having to raise their voices too loudly. Aware that a transaction was no doubt going down, Antonio's eyes scanned the room to see where he might go next. He briefly caught sight of Grumrump, who seemed to be getting help from his own courtesan in being lifted off the chaise.<br><br>"Ah, pardon me fine musician, do forgive me if I interrupted. I might be able to fix that lute of yours as payment for my unfortunate lack of manners in greeting you if you would like."<br><br>It took Antonio a minute to realize the man was addressing him. He rolled his fingers atop the broken lute, pondering a moment before opening his mouth to speak. Yet it was not he that replied.<br><br>"I already have my mind set on you tonight, Velen. Will you consider it or show me those that are <em>really</em> worth it? As for Antonio’s lute, you need not worry. There are other...instruments he can play tonight."<br><br>Antonio's gaze followed to where the Lady Semele looked, her finger crooking to suggest a rather pale, intimidating looking woman stood. While the make-up and dress suggested a fragile porcelain doll, the expression upon her face burned with the aggressive and assertive nature of a warrior. He wondered briefly if she had performed more penetrations than been penetrated.<br><br><strong>"The orc has already put me into debt to this place,"</strong> Antonio responded to the man. <strong>"And besides, I have a benefactor that can certainly help make amends to my poor traveling companion."</strong> He lifted his lute as if to make his meaning clear, his eyes darting towards the chaise where Grumrump had been sitting. Even if the fat man <em>had</em> been there, he soon would have been blocked by the new arrival. She looked even more fierce up close, and her gaze seemed to suggest that she thought very little of him.<br><br>”Vibeke, this fine gentleman owes me a serenade and seems to lack the equipment for it. Would you be so kind as to help him reach those high notes on his own? I’m thinking that the pool should make for a perfect <em>mise en scène</em> for a moonlit serenade. Shall we move to the Oasis?”<br><br>Antonio's mouth hesitated again. Now <em>this</em> was most certainly not the sort of performance he had anticipated giving. His eyes locked onto the red lips immediately, imagining full well their capabilities at making flutes or trumpets sing. His stare then traveled down to evaluate the rest of her superbly fit body. Most definitely not one to turn down. Yet something about him felt as if <em>he</em> was the one taking advantage of the generosity of others. His performance tonight was certainly not <em>that</em> good. Once more, his mouth opened to respond, but it was not his voice that bellowed next.<br><br>"Would you have my good Antonio perform without me to see?" The fat man Grumrump stepped forward, the courtesan looking to be an absolute mouse beside his bulk. As they slid towards the bench the courtesan, Grumrump's flabby arm around her shoulders, was forced to rub and press against Vibeke, pushing her aside by a step or two. Antonio cringed, hoping she'd keep her wrath in check for now.<br><br>"Lovely Semele," Grumrump said, bowing before the woman. He was as much a customer of her establishment as the One-Night Bride, and just as loud at the Pink Hydra. Antonio imagined that it was only the quantity of coin he left in his wake that made his storm of a presence tolerable, though in truth he knew the man as blissfully jovial. "I am honored that you should show interest in my favored entertainer. I came over to reassure him that his Lute would not be sacrificed in vain, for who could allow such a tragedy to befall a minstrel so brave? But imagine my surprise when you demand a performance from him unlike any I'd have seen!"<br><br>With a flourish Grumrump slipped from his courtesan, performing a spin that seemed all too agile for his bulk, pushing himself between both she and Vibeke, his hands crashing onto each's ass in a resounding smack.<br><br>"But you underestimate him!" Grumrump continued, his squeezing fingers using their hold on each courtesan's posterior to pull them in closer. Antonio began to wonder how much longer his Benefactor would be breathing as he gazed into Vibeke's eyes. "Any man can be pleasured and sing by a courtesan of the One-Night Bride. But I wager you the cost of three nights of the Deific Paradise at your Pink Hydra that he can juggle all six of his balls and not drop a single one as she juggles his own and toots his horn." As if for emphasis, he smacked Vibeke's ass once more.<br><br>Antonio grinned, letting out a sigh. Despite being broken, he slung his lute still behind his back. He placed his hands upon his hips, looking at the crowd gathered around him.<br><br><strong>"I cannot turn down a challenge such as that,"</strong> he shrugged. It was, after all, a trick he'd never performed before, and he couldn't resist the urge to show off just how good a performer he could be.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gilgameshian</strong> on <strong>26-04-2017, 21:16:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s22.postimg.org/t5zdc0k4h/Jensen_Ackles_2004_by_John_Russo_-_12004.jpg)</div><strong>Name:&nbsp; Velen Fortensa (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13131617#msg13131617)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Approaching a potential client<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Semele, Antonio, Antonio's Boss?<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>A little underskirt teasing and dirty illusions</em><br><br>----<br><br>It was easy enough to walk up to her without her noticing so entranced she was. It was perfect really. A casual nod and he was seated beside her. Every word he said seemed to draw her attention from the musician, which Velen considered a success, and he wasn't even using his powers yet. Whether it was the dragon or it was his gaze that caught her attention he captured it relatively easy though he suspected that was more because she was willing rather than a lack of willpower from this particular woman. Owning a brothel tended to give you tremendous nerves so he would have to work hard to make her shiver and quake under his touch before the night was out.<br><br>While his words and eyes focused on the musician his tail was working. Semele seemed to enjoy the attention as her thighs parted just a little bit to bid him entry under her skirt. His tail ever so slowly progressed up the smooth surface of her leg.<br><br>"You wound me," he said with mock pain "but I do know a fair amount of grooms if you're not interested in living your fantasies tonight. After all, they are lovely men, I would agree, but I can gaze into your mind and pull your desires out."<br><br>The dragon roared beside her though it was more of a cute little growl than intimidating. Velen turned his attention to the new arrivals. Vibeke was certainly an interesting woman. He had considered going to her for tips on other forms of dominance more than once but her brand of enjoyment didn't match his. Not that he couldn't have fun her way but more that it would be harder since he'd need to more actively feed on hers to enjoy it. Still he respected her talent and her beauty all the same. Another man joined them, the boss of this musician, and they all began talking. Velen didn't butt in because he didn't feel the need. Instead he let his tail begin caressing Semele's inner thigh only teasing motions towards where she might truly want his attentions.<br><br>"Lady Semele," he whispered "I'd be glad to join you in the Oasis where I can continue to prove my many, many talents."<br><br>He cast an illusion for her eyes only. In this small illusion both of them were in the pool at the Oasis. They were merely talking for the time being but she could see Velen was wearing nothing in the pool itself letting his toned muscle and tanned skin be devoured by her gaze only for the Velen illusion to slowly kiss and tease his way down her body until he lifted her onto the edge of the pool. Though the angle of the illusion hid what he was actually doing it was quite clear he was introducing her to his talented tongue in a more intimate way. Velen smiled as he slid just a little closer to her.<br><br>"Assuming you still find me worthy," he noted with a wry smile as he leaned into whisper into her ear letting his warm breath tease her further "I can do far more than just this little tricks."<br><br>While this man, Grumrump he believed the man's name was, was implying that this man could manage to juggle quite a few balls while having his own tended to was amusing he kept his attentions on his potential client. It wasn't that he didn't find the idea fascinating to see if a normal man could manage that but he did enjoy seeing Vibeke work. She was supremely talented and there was no doubt it would easily get him nice and ready for Lady Semele assuming she didn't have a plan of her own to tempt him further.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>26-04-2017, 21:58:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/OV6LkpI.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Chantal (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129713#msg13129713)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESEAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; attempting to close the deal<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Araxis<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br><em>“I have no love for coin, Araxis,” </em>Chantal answered.&nbsp; <em>“Coin is the most base of all exchanges.&nbsp; If I find out what you wish to know, I would ask … something pretty, something that will make me remember your eyes.”</em>&nbsp; <br><br>It was not greed that motivated Chantal, at least not only greed.&nbsp; To have a purpose beyond moving from one client to the next was its own kind of wealth.&nbsp; Of course, there was competition for the clients, the challenges to acquire more popularity, and to chase the particular pleasures that their congress could bring, what the wealth could bring, but purpose beyond mere survival was all the sweeter.&nbsp; She felt the spark of interest, true interest, light, and her gaze turned toward the way Snoggie and her prospective client had gone.<br><br>She supposed that even if the orc broke him, there were still avenues she could pursue.&nbsp; He had been speaking to Madame Celeste,&nbsp; and since Madame had some difficulties leaving the brothel, she often had them run errands for her.&nbsp; If no opportunity to find out what Araxis wanted to know presented itself, she could always find a way to pursue it on her own … providing that he made it worth her while, either with some pretty thing or in … other ways.<br><br><em>“The price depends upon what you wish,” </em>she answered, instantly slipping from calculation to playing the coquette, letting her hips brush against his as she leaned in closer, the softness of her breasts pressing against his arm, cushioned by their clothes.&nbsp; &nbsp;The house’s rates for most things were standard, with the exotic appeal and popularity of the girls added in as an additional percentage.&nbsp; &nbsp;Nothing other than pride prevented the brides and grooms from discounting their rates for special clients, or increasing them for others, but Chantal did neither in this case. <br><br><em>“Would you prefer somewhere more private, or would you care for a tour of the more public areas?&nbsp; Or have you seen them all already?”</em><br><br>For herself, it did not matter.&nbsp; There was enjoyment in public performances, but more freedom in the private, but it was his pleasure that mattered in this, and she did enjoy pleasing her clients … particularly the ones who were far from ordinary.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AndyZ</strong> on <strong>28-04-2017, 00:35:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i57.tinypic.com/mwv4go.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Araxis (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13136083#msg13136083)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Chatting up Chantal<br><br><br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Chantal<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>When Chantal mentioned her lack of interest in coin, his eyebrow quirked.&nbsp; How could anyone not love gold?&nbsp; She was an interesting one, though, and at least explained what she wanted.&nbsp; He smiled.&nbsp; "A sapphire, then."&nbsp; He didn't have any on him, but they were exceptionally easy to acquire, and would be cheaper than how much gold he expected to give her anyway.<br><br>This woman was an interesting one.&nbsp; He already recognized her as one of intellect, so why would she be more interested in an object than in more money than could buy that object?&nbsp; Perhaps she so rarely got to leave.&nbsp; It was a guess, but the question left him more curious about her.<br><br>She mentioned about the variance of price, of which he took note.&nbsp; Had Madame Celeste simply set her own price and what she wanted to offer?&nbsp; It wouldn't surprise him in the slightest.&nbsp; "I suppose I should ask what all you have in your repertoire," he said.&nbsp; "For the first time, though, let's just let our bodies take over rather than anything too unusual."<br><br>Her demeanor was as lovely as her accent, and he pressed right back up against her, keeping his eyes upon hers.&nbsp; She offered public and private as well, though he expected that that would be equally true of many of the courtesans here.&nbsp; "A bed would be best, I believe," he said.&nbsp; "I want to make sure I don't accidentally break you."&nbsp; If he did badly injure her, he would naturally pay for her healing costs, though he believed that he had sufficient control of himself to make sure that didn't happen.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>28-04-2017, 04:59:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/OV6LkpI.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Chantal (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129713#msg13129713)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESEAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Engaged for the evening<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Araxis<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Was that a hint of surprise in his eyes?&nbsp; Yes, Chantal thought to herself with a good degree of satisfaction.&nbsp; She had surprised him, and she enjoyed the reaction, though not overtly.&nbsp; The biggest outward indication of her satisfaction was a slight tightening of her fingers, a deepening of the professional warmth of her smile.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><em><br>"Az you wish, Araxis,"</em> she agreed, her dark lashes dipping down over her dark-colored eyes as she inclined her head, feeling the soft tickle of her hair upon her bare neck and shoulders with the gesture.&nbsp; &nbsp;Was he being circumspect, or did he simply prefer spontaneity?&nbsp; Either were qualities that added depth to any interaction, but she rather hoped it was the latter.&nbsp; There was artistry in a choreographed performance, but perhaps more in one that was improvised, dependent upon the mood, the moment, and caprice.<br><br>His bright blue eyes suggested something of coldness, but his body against hers was warm, firm, and indicative of bold energy -- all attractive qualities to Chantal.&nbsp; Would Madame Celeste resent that he had chosen her for the night?&nbsp; A shiver of disquiet scrabbled down her spine, spider-like, and then skittered away as she dismissed it as a foolish thought.&nbsp; She had never seen the slightest degree of jealousy from the madame, an attitude that Chantal admired and mostly shared.<br><em><br>"A bed it zhall be zhen.&nbsp; Zhis way, if you please." </em> Her fingers slid down his arm, slowly, the tips of her nails softly brushing, and then her hand was extended in a gesture of invitation, inviting him to take her hand if he desired, or simply an indication of direction, toward the stairs leading upward.&nbsp; <em>"The Azurite Room may please you, in honor of zhe beauty of your eyes."</em><br><br>There was no need to call for the crude exchange of coin, not for a regular such as Araxis.&nbsp; Such things were handled discreetly by those whose wealth was a certainty in the Bazaar, and, as Madame decreed, it often increased the generosity of clients in their gifts, and their tips.&nbsp; Of all crimes in the Bazaar, the most serious was not to pay ones bills, and those mysterious forces that regulated the commerce had ways of collecting ... unpleasant ways, by all accounts.<br><br>&lt;----- Moving to The Azure Room (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266805.0)
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sephiriel</strong> on <strong>28-04-2017, 22:17:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>&nbsp;<strong>Name:&nbsp; Semele (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129368#msg13129368)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Surrounded by delights<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Antonio, Velen, Vibeke <br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em> Decent proposals</em><br><br><hr><hr><br>&nbsp;<br>Things got even more entertaining, if such a deal was possible, when Antonio’s current patron showed up with his chosen courtesan.&nbsp; Semele knew him quite well and was actually pleased to see the jovial man, despite his tendency to talk the night away. He was as generous with his coins as he was with his words at the Pink Hydra.<br><br>&nbsp;"I am honored that you should show interest in my favored entertainer. I came over to reassure him that his Lute would not be sacrificed in vain, for who could allow such a tragedy to befall a minstrel so brave? But imagine my surprise when you demand a performance from him unlike any I'd have seen!"<br><br>She laughed, partly amused with the man’s artlessness as he treated Vibeke like one of his chosen.&nbsp; In the meantime, Velen’s tail moved like a sweet, tempting promise of things to come, distracting her attention from the conversation. His whispering voice gave her a most pleasant shiver down her spine and she was tempted to turn around and bite his lower lip before his illusions made their way into her mind’s eye.&nbsp; The image was enticing and she realized what great advantage Velen had over the other Grooms, adding visuals to his words.&nbsp; Semele could only imagine the possibilities and wondered if he was able to cast his illusions to more than one person at the time.&nbsp; Was he able to cast them differently according to their recipients as well? He was in every sense of the word a one-man-show and he was hers for the night.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>&nbsp; It was then that Grumrump proposed a most scandalous bet, one she should have in fact expected from a man with such limitless horizons as he. There was no chance of boredom, Semele concluded, not with such a creative group of people and if she had any regrets about inviting Grumrump to tag along, they had all been dispersed by then.<br><br><strong>Three nights? You underestimate my eye for new talents, Grumrump! Let's make it a five. Five nights with any of your choosing from my girls.</strong> <br><br>Her gaze moved from Vibeke to Antonio and she was pleased to know that none had any objections. "I cannot turn down a challenge such as that." Antonio said. <br><br>She couldn’t tell for certain what the tall courtesan was thinking, however, but as long as she didn’t voice her thoughts Semele could take her expressionless gaze anyway she wanted.&nbsp; Leaning back, she reached for the Wolf bodyguard to whisper her instructions.&nbsp; One would remain to make sure her clients were safe, while the other would follow the group to the Oasis (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266116.0).<br><br><strong>“Let’s get this show on the road, then.“</strong> She got up, taking Velen’s offered hand and walked ahead as if they were the king and queen of the prom.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Honeycrisp</strong> on <strong>29-04-2017, 16:44:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://68.media.tumblr.com/95fd6679e62e690437e65aca4b07a11f/tumblr_oogroqpARU1tppytvo1_540.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Psyche Makropoulos (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13127525#msg13127525)</strong><br><br><strong>STAFF</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> The Heart Desires<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Nicholas Carlton <br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Kisses like fiery drops from a molten waterfall landed on her skin and left it ablaze in the wake of their passing.&nbsp; Just enough stubble to make the scratches at the periphery of them heightened the sensation and Psyche trailed her fingers through Nicholas' dark, luxuriously thick hair to reward and guide him and his mouth's delicious work.&nbsp; Raising her head just enough to watch him for a moment as he paid devotion to her arm, working a line of kisses down it and towards her wrist and palm, Psyche's serene blue eyes were anything but as her own passion, the eternally youthful and almost anxious virgin passion, rose in her body and she struggled to keep control of herself.&nbsp; No sign of it showed in her body, quite unlike the obvious twitches and hard bulges of muscle as <br>Nicholas fought with his own body against the desire she'd evoked in him.&nbsp; "Yes," she said, voice husky with praise, "right there.&nbsp; On my wrist.&nbsp; Use your tongue an-"&nbsp; A cry did escape her then, young and sharp-edged with passion she'd never felt before intensity as Nicholas caught her cue and gave Psyche what she craved, his tongue licking and tapping in perfect counterpoint to her pulse, driving the blood back into her heart and carrying with it the promise of his body atop hers.<br><br>Almost, almost she gave in wanting to surrender herself to the passions and control of another as she did every other night, as she had always in a vain attempt to rekindle the feeling of her beloved taking her and teaching her the pleasure a woman should know.&nbsp; It showed in the shaky way her fingers trembled in his hair, in how her tummy muscles clenched and she drew up as if to curl around him.&nbsp; Almost she gave herself to Nicholas before the barest edge of her need for something different, her professionalism in making him happy, whipcracked across her heart and head like a switch on the bottom and she laughed, voice husky and delighted.<br><br>"No, I'm not that easy and we will not be turning the tables tonight, darling man," she said and sat up, casually pushing him back with a palm against his chest.&nbsp; Psyche stood, not quite towering over him but standing above him as a goddess did to those who would worship her, promising that the temple would be her body if he showed sensual supplication.&nbsp; Holding out her hand, palm down, she waited until Nicholas took it then used light pressure to signal him to rise.&nbsp; Now he was tall, not quite towering but a good head taller and she'd been unusually tall for a woman in her era.&nbsp; Height had nothing to do with power though, and even though she could fit herself under his arm, head just under his jaw, Psyche didn't feel dwarfed or lesser, only pleased at the size of him and his muscled body and his not quite perfectly beautiful but roughly handsome face.&nbsp; He was a man, not a vain parody of one, and the fact that he'd surrendered tonight's pleasures to her only showcased his confidence.<br><br>"Come," she said, taking him by the hand and leading him off, but not to the bedroom where they would wind up, but to a stopping place along the way.&nbsp; <br><br>They needed some things for the evening's fun.<br><br>&lt;========= Moving to Madame's Delights (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266117.0)
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TyCaine</strong> on <strong>01-05-2017, 16:35:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DNiFcci.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name: Nicholas 'Nick' Carlton (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13140334#msg13140334)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> What the heart desires...<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Psyche Makropoulos<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><br>Nick needed little coaching in the ways to delight a woman, though he may not have had a lot of the more intimate encounters recently, there had been a time while he was up and coming where he had been quite the ladies man. That had been a lifetime ago, and long before the deal he had struck with the Devil for his soul, and more recent encounters had suffered because of it, it was hard to relax and enjoy yourself with a woman when literally everyone would like to see you fall...<br><br>Still, it took only the slightest direction from Psyche before he found his old skills once more and, before she had even finished her sentence, he had her crying out in pleasure. Way back when he would have been more comfortable showing his arousal, but with his life as it was he fought to control it as it could be perceived as a weakness, even as much as this beautiful woman provoked it, and he felt it almost painfully against the confines of his clothes.<br><br>He felt her hands in his hair, guiding him as his kisses continued, and felt her hands tremble as he pleasured her, almost to the point it seemed, that she was to give herself to him. But then she denied him as she laughed and sat up, her hand gently pushing him away from her she did, with as little pressure as she'd used to halt him in his tracks and back him up before, and with as much effect now as then, as he found himself on his knees before her...<br><br>A scowl appeared for a moment, the intensity burning bright in his eyes, he wasn't used to being denied and in such an overt way, his breathing was heavy from his excitement and it took another moment for him to realize this is what he had asked for. The rules and situation were​ different here, and in this dimension he had little true power, at least in his perception of what power was. He swallowed and trying to calm himself, gazing up at the beautiful woman who now commanded his attention, and felt that yearning need once more. Her comment that there would be no tables turned caused the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes once more as he noted the dominant position she was in standing over him, but then she held out her hand and reaching out for in tentatively, he felt her signal for him to get up and he did so.<br><br>He was taller than the slip of a girl, and his build was certainly more powerful, and yet after telling her what he wanted, no, needed, he felt a compulsion to do as she asked, commanded, and wondered to himself again whether there was some trickery or, even, magic involved, as the few times he'd been here he had seen all manner of wonders accomplished by others. He swallowed slightly, controlling himself even though his body betrayed him as he felt his arousal nudging painfully against the tight constrains of his pants, and then she was taking his hand in hers and leading him away from the Great Room, and all he could do was follow.<br><br>He had no idea where she was taking him this was, after all, his first time here for more than people watching, and they stopped briefly in a well-appointed room filled with all manner of contraptions that, with a slight blinking of his eyes, he realized were pieces of furniture for bondage and D/s play. His gaze was distracted by the sights in that room and he missed that she gathered a number of items in hand, while he, his brow furrowed, realized his excitement was increasing to new heights.&nbsp; He swallowed again as he turned his attention back to the beautiful woman who was to control, dominate, him at his request, and wondered what she had planned for him...<br><br>&lt;========= Moving to Madame's Delights (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266117.0)
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Trilby</strong> on <strong>03-05-2017, 22:12:07</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/AviciaB_zpscg0eysap.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Avicia (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13173582#msg13173582)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Just arriving<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> OPEN (possibly Celeste?)<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Avicia stood on the sidewalk, poised to enter the bar before her, willing herself to move. And yet her feet somehow remained still, as fixed in place as the pavement.<br>&nbsp;<br>She had been preparing herself for this moment for days.&nbsp; Everything was perfect, as it should be; each carefully-chosen detail radiated cool, serene confidence.&nbsp; She was freshly bathed.&nbsp; She was lightly perfumed with vanilla and ambergris.&nbsp; Her gown, a cool grey satin, was modest, but still elegant and flattering.&nbsp; Her hair was perfectly coiffed, woven with the grey and white pearls that studded her bodice.&nbsp; She was ready.&nbsp; <br><br>And still she stood at the entrance to the hookah den, motionless as stone, looking up at the sign, her eyes wide and her breath shallow.&nbsp; Her soft white hands, half-hidden in her heavy satin sleeves, were folded together before her, long fingers entertwined; and though a casual onlooker would have missed it, her hands were clutched together so tightly that her knuckles were white.&nbsp; If she relaxed her grip on herself, she might lose her nerve.&nbsp; Her stomach and her throat were clenched as tightly as her fists, and wave after wave of fear and doubt battered against her resolve.<br>&nbsp; <br>But nothing -- not the fear, or the doubt, or the painfully tight grip of her hands -- could still the piercing, trembling tendrils of excitement that coiled in her belly and shot through every part of her, making her heart race.&nbsp; She had waited for this night.&nbsp; She had prepared herself for this night as well as she possibly could.&nbsp; She was ready.<br>&nbsp; <br>Avicia would never have heard of the One-Night Bride -- indeed, would not be standing here at all -- but for her new servant.&nbsp; Tiye had avoided saying how she knew of the place; Avicia had chosen not to press the matter, but she suspected that the pretty, lively girl had once been employed there.&nbsp; If it were so, Lutolf was surely shaming her from his grave.&nbsp; But however that may be, Avicia's interest had been piqued by Tiye’s stories, each one more humorous, or more romantic, or more salacious than the last.&nbsp; The things that Avicia’s sisters and closest friends spoke of only behind closed doors, and in hushed whispers and giggles, Tiye told aloud, as though the acts she spoke of were not shameful, and the pleasure from those acts was not shameful either.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>And somehow, though Avicia was at a loss to explain it, what had started as amusing and risqué tales had turned into a plan.&nbsp; A plan that had brought her to the door of a disreputable hookah bar,&nbsp; to learn of things that it would be sin to know.&nbsp; Or so Lutolf would have told her, with his usual great conviction.&nbsp; In her mind and in her heart, she could hear the words he would have said, and the scorn and disappointment in his voice. <br>&nbsp; <br>Wide brown eyes narrowed slightly at the thought of Lutolf.&nbsp; Thirty years, or near that.&nbsp; For thirty years, Avicia had been a dutiful and obedient wife, guided by her husband’s wishes.&nbsp; For thirty years, she had honored him by being the gracious hostess, the ornament on his arm, the mother of his children.&nbsp; And in return he had given her wealth and comfort.&nbsp; But no more than that.&nbsp; He had not required affection or companionship from his wife, nor had her offered any.&nbsp; The things other women expected from their husbands, in at least some small measure, had been denied her from the moment of her marriage.&nbsp; Was she now to allow him to rule her from his grave as he had ruled her in life?<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>Avicia took a long, deep breath, held it for a moment, and forced her feet to move, one after the other.&nbsp; Graceful as always, she entered the shop with a serene and gentle smile that gave no hint of how hard her heart was pounding, or how the blood was singing in her temples.&nbsp; The mingled scents of tobacco and -- well, something -- engulfed her, and she looked around, blinking in the dim light.&nbsp; Almost immediately, she found herself to be the focus of the attention of two burly men.&nbsp; She gave them her most brilliant smile.<br><br>“I was told to order the Marrakesh Gold,” she said to them, pleasant and polite, her voice shaking only slightly.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>She was ushered through a small, private room; and a few moments later, Avicia stood inside the place Tiye had spoken of with so much enthusiasm.&nbsp; She was no stranger to luxury and elegance, and still the Great Room of the One-Night Bride took her breath away.&nbsp; She paused for a moment at the edge of the marble floor, eyes wide with delight, and took in her surroundings: the music, the artful genius of the colors and fabrics, even the scents that floated through the vast room were exciting and exotic.&nbsp; Why, it was finer even than the Emperor’s palace!<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>The room before her was so lovely, so beguiling, that for a moment Avicia forgot why she had come there.&nbsp; Relaxed and at her ease, she let her gaze drift from one beautiful setting to the next, one handsome couple to the next, until her eyes suddenly came to rest on a tall, exotic woman, exquisitely gowned, statuesque and regal.&nbsp; Could that be...&nbsp; surely that was Madame Celeste?<br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wyatt</strong> on <strong>04-05-2017, 07:38:33</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6a/ONB_-_Wyatt_-_Andrea.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Andrea Follete (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13135651#msg13135651)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Watching, waiting, ensuring the newcomer is attended to.<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open, and openly curious about Avicia<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br>Andrea watched with interest as Psyche nearly mesmerized a powerfully handsome looking man, indeed a man with the presence of a sort that ought not to be seeming as if her were the Courtesan serving the lovely and, to Andrea, the rather alluringly mysterious creature that was the coppery haired Psyche.&nbsp; And yet, he did, and she enjoyed it all if her own expressions were to be taken at full value, and though she was somewhat beyond the understanding of all, save for Celeste, Andrea had no reason to doubt the sincerities of the pleasures that Psyche’s enrapt suitor was lathering so skillfully upon her.&nbsp; It was a&nbsp; delight to behold, the most elegant manner of transferring, of giving and taking power to and from another, and the platinum haired Andrea was quietly applauding Psyche and her man, she for simply being she, and he for having the courage to release what looked to be a powerfully coiled sense of self-control, and to deliver that control so selflessly to the beauty who beguiled him so.<br><br>Other couples were dancing that dance of moths to their delectable flames, and in one corner possibly a threesome were doing so, though in truth they were not fully within Andrea’s eyesight and she was far from the presumptuous type.&nbsp; Her hazel orbs scanned the scene now and again, the sights, the scents, the expressions of…wait, a newcomer had arrived, one who appeared not merely new for the night, but with her eyes drinking in the environs, wonders and sensual denizens of the Great Room, so deeply and with an air of wonder and delight of her own, the woman was surely graced with committing her virginal visit to the Bride that night.<br><br>Andrea swirled her drink, enjoying the distraction, minor as it was, of the ice cubes clinking in their muted fashion within her drink and upon the rim walls of her glass, even as she wondered and watched the golden haired beauty, a woman with the beauty of wisdom and still capable of the prettiness of wonder both visiting their attractiveness upon her more than lovely countenance.&nbsp; Her eyes had found Celeste, which meant she was not a lost soul, but rather a soul wishing to be found, or to find it and herself, a thought and possibility that intrigued the leggy blonde enough to call over Travers once more.<br><br>“The bright and lovely creature who just entered, please find out what she favors in the form of a libation and deliver the most decadently delicious form of it that you can find to her hands, a courtesy of mine and service of yours for which you will be well and truly compensated.&nbsp; Now, if you would, seek her out and discover her desires before she falls under Celeste’s gravity, and bring it to sate her the moment Celeste sets her to her freedom within this House.&nbsp; Thank you, Travers,” she told him with a distracted, or more truly, elsewhere focused attention, as she watched the woman and measured her time and manner from spotting Celeste to engaging her, a telling thing in and of itself.<br><br>Travers, ever the efficient and trustworthy scion of waiter-hood, appeared to greet the blonde, his handsome, lean and youthful beauty a gift to all the world, but at the moment he was a gift given to the well curved and full bodied blonde as she more fully entered the One Night Bride,<br><br><strong>“Dear Lady, would you desire something to drink, and of what vintage, strength and complexity would fill your desires and yet make you wish ever for more?”</strong> he asked, meaning to take her drink order, even as he referred back to whom had sent him forward,&nbsp; <strong>“Mistress Andrea asks that your every thought and whim in the form of a drink be fulfilled posthaste, Milady.”</strong><br><br>Travers subtly nodded in Andrea’s direction, and in return she raised her glass in an elegant salute to the wonder-filled beauty, welcoming the newest addition to the night’s enchanting festivities.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Trilby</strong> on <strong>05-05-2017, 05:42:25</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/AviciaB_zpscg0eysap.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Avicia (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13173582#msg13173582)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Just arrived<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Celeste, Andrea, OPEN<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>For a few moments, Avicia stood motionless, taking the measure of the beautiful, imposing woman across the room.&nbsp; This, clearly, was Madame Celeste: serene, confident, a self-assured queen surveying her domain.&nbsp; She did not appear to have noticed Avicia, but there was no doubt in the older woman’s mind that Celeste was keenly aware of every person in the room.&nbsp; For a moment, the tall Madame's eyes fixed on something that Avicia could not see.&nbsp; Whatever it was that Celeste observed, she did not seem displeased; though it crossed Avicia’s mind that it was unlikely that queenly face ever showed any such irritation in public. She was dressed in the most elegant of gowns, a creation that displayed her statuesque curves so perfectly that it had surely been tailored to her body inch by inch.&nbsp; Avicia’s hands dropped to her own gown, her palms stroking the heavy satin folds nervously.&nbsp; For more than a decade, she had been praised as one of the most beautifully clothed ladies at the Emperor’s court; tonight, looking at Madame Celeste, she suddenly felt overdressed and provincial.<br>&nbsp; <br>But truly, what did that matter?&nbsp; Avicia let her fingers play over the smooth, cool grey satin of her skirts, enjoying the familiar, luxurious feel.&nbsp; This gown was a favorite, and she looked well in it.&nbsp; If it was overly modest, what of it?&nbsp; She was a modest woman.&nbsp; The One-Night Bride might change her, Tiye had warned; and Avicia hoped that it would be true.&nbsp; But it had not done so yet.&nbsp; Her gown suited her well; or at least, it did tonight.<br>&nbsp; <br>Avicia took a few more steps into the room, admiring the many, varied beauties, male and female, human and otherwise.&nbsp; She turned to make her way towards Celeste, but caught sight of a young man approaching her.&nbsp; His form and his face were so beautiful that Avicia might have taken him for a male courtesan, were it not for the livery he wore so well.&nbsp; His smile was both inviting and respectful, and she stopped, turning towards the young man curiously.<br>&nbsp; <br><strong>“Dear Lady, would you desire something to drink, and of what vintage, strength and complexity would fill your desires and yet make you wish ever for more?”</strong> As he spoke, he inclined his head ever so slightly to his left.&nbsp; Avicia’s gaze turned in that direction. To her astonishment, a lovely woman, exquisitely tall, lifted her glass.&nbsp; Avicia gave her a smile of delight in return, both flattered and startled that in this great throng of beauty, anyone would have noticed her at all. And even in this arena, where each person was more glorious than the next, the woman with the glass in her hand stood out.&nbsp; She was quite simply stunning.&nbsp; Hair as white and shimmery as new wheat, eyes lively and bright, and even at a distance her complexion was as luminous as the pearls that decorated Avicia's bodice and hair.&nbsp; Whatever could such a beauty want with a middle-aged widow from nowhere?<br>&nbsp; <br><strong>“Mistress Andrea asks that your every thought and whim in the form of a drink be fulfilled posthaste, Milady.”</strong> The smooth, soothing voice brought Avicia's thoughts back to the young man before her, and she hesitated only a moment before tearing her eyes away from the woman and her gentle greeting, turning her attention to the question he’d put to her.&nbsp; She found herself, suddenly, longing to accept the woman's kind offer; and yet....<br>&nbsp; <br><strong>“If I accept,”</strong> she asked, her eyes turning back to meet the young man’s respectful gaze, <strong>“will it be a signal to her that I....”</strong>&nbsp; Her cheeks had flushed hot and her voice, while surprisingly steady, was low.&nbsp; It was embarrassing, not to know such things.&nbsp; And more embarrassing not to even know how to phrase the question.<br>&nbsp; <br><strong>“Not in the least, Milady,”</strong> the young man assured her courteously, with a gravity that made it quite clear that he took her and her question seriously. <strong>“Mistress Andrea wishes to make you welcome, and to help you feel at your ease.&nbsp; She but offers you hospitality, I assure you.”</strong>&nbsp; Mistress Andrea had not suggested to Travers in any way that she desired him to approach the newcomer on any other subject; and unless Mistress Andrea chose to involve Travers directly, whatever other interests she might have were none of his professional concern.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>Avicia felt an immediate sense of relief, and realized the same instant how ridiculous that was.&nbsp; As if there could be any embarrassment or awkwardness in being approached by anyone, in such a place as this!&nbsp; Why else, after all, were any of them here?&nbsp; With a merry smile at her own silliness, she turned towards Mistress Andrea, catching the woman’s eye.&nbsp; With one hand on her chest, Avicia bowed her head to her benefactor in thanks.<br>&nbsp; <br><strong>“Thank you --”</strong> she paused, glancing at the beautiful young man curiously. <strong> “Travers, Milady,”</strong> he supplied, with a slight bow.<br>&nbsp; <br><strong>“Travers,”</strong> Avicia repeated, fixing his name in his memory, along with his eyes, the sweep of his strong law, the wave of his hair, and his lithe, supple body.&nbsp; She wanted to remember every detail; every smile, every cushion and art piece and flash of color.&nbsp; <strong>“Travers, you may tell Mistress Andrea that my name is Avicia.&nbsp; Please give her my most sincere thanks, and tell her that I would be most honored by the pleasure of her company once I’ve paid proper respects to my hostess.&nbsp; And please bring me --”</strong><br>&nbsp; <br>She hesitated, then, with a quick glance at Mistress Andrea, her eyes merry, Alicia gave Travers a&nbsp; conspiratorial smile.&nbsp; <strong>“Surprise me,”</strong> she said.&nbsp; A little frisson of excitement shivered up her back; she couldn’t even imagine what delights a place like this must be able to offer.&nbsp; <strong>“Something cold, not too sweet, if you please.&nbsp; Nor too strong.”</strong>&nbsp; She was unused to strong drink, and she had no desire for her memories or her experiences to be clouded.<br>&nbsp; <br>Travers returned the smile.&nbsp; <strong>“It shall be just as you wish, dear Lady,”</strong> he said.&nbsp; <strong>“I have exactly what you desire in mind.” </strong><br>&nbsp;<br>And with that, he was gone; and before Avicia had even considered any gratuity!&nbsp; She felt the heat of embarrassment rising to her cheeks once more, and promised herself that there would be another opportunity.&nbsp; A little anxious, she turned towards the room once more, seeking the glamorous figure of her hostess.&nbsp; It would not do at all to embarrass herself again.&nbsp; She had already made a very large payment towards this night's expense, with Tiye acting as intermediary; but there would be other personal payments as well.&nbsp; Taking in the opulence and the grandeur that surrounded her, Avicia was doubly glad that she had come well prepared this evening!&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>05-05-2017, 19:39:06</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/fJ9JoZV.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Madame Celeste (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13127459#msg13127459)</strong><br><br><strong>STAFF</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Business as usual<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>The repair gnomes did their work, as usual, quickly and efficiently, masked in illusion to provide even more entertainment.&nbsp; Debris, dust and splinters had danced and swirled in the air, movement all nicely choreographed to the music, and before you could say 'collateral damage', tables and furiture were all back in place, looking as good as new.<br><br>Mister Jeffrey would no doubt voice his disapproval, but Celeste knew that he secretly loved it.<br><br>Everything seemed under control, more or less.&nbsp; Perhaps she should go see what Semele was up to, no doubt trying to purloin the talent ... as if there weren't enough to go around already.&nbsp; &nbsp;That was one advantage of sanctuary in the Bazaar - things that were needed, even things that were badly wanted, usually had a way of showing up, though the Bazaar worked on nobody's timetable -- a fact that the powerful beings that inhabited their own little corners of the Bazaar found rather frustrating.&nbsp; Celeste wasn't frustrated by it in the least.&nbsp; If anything, she found it reassuring.<br><br>Let Semele have her fun.&nbsp; Celeste would devise a way to get even, in her own time.<br><br>For now, though, drink in hand, she made her way through the laughing, talking, nourishingly lustful crowd, and headed back to the office.&nbsp; There was an old movie that she was in the mood to watch ... though it was sadly lacking in seductive detail.<br><br>--------------&gt;&nbsp; Exiting the reception room
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Top Cat</strong> on <strong>05-05-2017, 21:11:53</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/PsVJPDa.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Benjamin Benedict Brighton (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13173582#msg13173582)</strong><br><br><strong>STAFF</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Successful delivery and downtime! <br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Avicia, Travers, Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Benjamin Brighton strode forward across the Bazaar channel that led directly to the One-Night Bride, pleased at another successful jaunt into the unknown. He had disappeared nearly a month prior, having notified his employer - on shockingly short notice - that he was about to dive into another unknown doorway that had appeared. His past month had been an outlandish adventure of heroism and hijinks, bargaining and theft - tales of adventure that would doubtless become larger and even more exciting with retelling. He could not be happier. <br><br>He strode forward and slammed his hands into the front doors of the One-Night Bride, and the doors swung open with a soft hiss. Benjamin scowled, as he had once again forgotten that he simply <em>could not</em> make a melodramatic entrance here. He glanced back at the three young men walking behind him, each carrying a heavy mahogany crate, and gestured for them to follow. <br><br>With his entrance thwarted, Benjamin chose to skirt the perimeter of the room, rather than striding boldly down the middle. He wanted to present his prizes to the House, but he knew that Madame Celeste would not be interested in most of what he had to offer. While cases of Dragonfire Brandy and Troll Sweat might be of great interest to the more mixology-minded residents and visitors in the Great Room, it wasn't anything that hadn't been seen before. <br><br>With brief words, he directed two of the three youngsters off to the bar, to be directed from there where the intoxicants could be best stored. The boys had already been paid - both in coin and in a promise of a new and exciting world to be in, with far more opportunities than they ever would have had in their backwater world. Once they had delivered their cargo, they would be free to go on their way, and Benjamin did not expect to see them ever again. In the Bazaar, they could die within a day, or find some new adventure of their own. They knew this when they signed on for this delivery job, and Benjamin felt that he owed them nothing more than that. <br><br>As those two went off in their direction, Benjamin led the third to the kitchen, to deliver the rather larger crate of the three, filled with exotic meats, vegetables, and spices from a world where magic was king, dragons were very real, and adventurers risked life and limb in dark and dangerous dungeons for petty rewards of gold and fame. Benjamin felt that he was above that sort of nonsense, despite being a sort of <em>adventurer</em> in his own way. He patted his flintlock pistol in remembrance - it worked in most places he'd been to, and was quite effective in that world of dungeons and dragons, whereas something more technologically-built would fail quickly, if not immediately. <br><br>With that taken care of, Benjamin only had one more prize to deliver, and that was more personal. He was certain that Madame Celeste would take interest in the leather-clad book he had in his vest pocket, a hand-written memoir of a succubus who had renounced her blood heritage, and forsaken the pleasures of the flesh... up until she met a noble knight who had won her heart. <br><br>He returned to the Great Room, acquiring a glass of whiskey on his way past the bar. With his <em>duties</em> taken care of, he'd earned a respite, and felt in the mood to rest, relax, and take in the sights of the Bazaar for a while - at least, until his wanderlust took him to another new world. The last delivery was not duty, so much as honor - he greatly respected the opportunities that Madame Celeste had given him, and especially the place he now called <em>home</em>. <br><br>He looked out over the people in the Great Room. Many showed some glimmer of a promise of something new and different, but at the same time, he already knew many of them. His eyes lit on Travers, who had been chatting with a blonde woman, somewhat more conservatively dressed than most who entered the One-Night Bride, but certainly not <em>that</em> far out of the range to be especially noteworthy in that sense. Travers would be able to pass a message to the Madame, and let her know that he had something for her personally, but it seemed he was occupied at the moment. <br><br>As Travers came over to the Bar, Benjamin lifted his chin and doffed his hat in greeting. "<strong>When you have a moment, good sir,</strong>" he said, knowing that Travers would understand the request well enough. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Trilby</strong> on <strong>06-05-2017, 04:40:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/AviciaB_zpscg0eysap.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Avicia (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13173582#msg13173582)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Trying not to let Celeste get away!<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Celeste, Andrea, Benjamin, OPEN<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><hr><hr><br><br>Her business with Travers and Mistress Andrea completed for the moment, Avicia returned her attention to her hostess.&nbsp; It took her a moment to locate Madame Celeste; she was moving across the room, and the crowd naturally parted for her.&nbsp; Avicia made her way along the fringes of the couples and small groups, hurrying to intercept the taller woman with her longer strides before she disappeared.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><strong>“Madame Celeste?” </strong>She approached her hostess with respect, and with a certain amount of awe.&nbsp; And, if truth be told, a bit of apprehension.&nbsp; Celeste must be a most formidable woman indeed.&nbsp; This entire, remarkable, breathtaking establishment was her creation.&nbsp; The staff, the decor, the music and the ambience were all conceived, assembled, and created from her own sensibilities, her own imagination.&nbsp; What an enormous amount of determination and perseverance it must have taken, to see such a huge project through from beginning to end!&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><strong>“Madame Celeste, may I present myself to you?&nbsp; My name is Avicia.&nbsp; This is my first visit to the One-Night Bride.”</strong>&nbsp; She gave her hostess a bow, one hand on her chest as was the custom where she came from.&nbsp; When she lifted her head, she was suddenly unsure of what to say next.&nbsp; The polite greeting she had rehearsed in her head did not seem at all adequate to the grandeur and elegance that the One-Night Bride and its mistress were due, but it was all she had.<br>&nbsp; <br><strong>“I wanted to thank you for allowing me to come,”</strong> she said earnestly, and very seriously.&nbsp; Not everyone was granted admission, so Tiye had told her; and Avicia had been halfway afraid that she would not be found acceptable.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wyatt</strong> on <strong>08-05-2017, 03:04:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6a/ONB_-_Wyatt_-_Andrea.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Andrea Follete (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13135651#msg13135651)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Greeting Benjamin, welcoming Avicia<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Avicia, Benjamin, Travers<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br>Andrea watched the reactions of the lovely blonde to Travers’ approach with great interest, nodding with the most casual sensuality and grace imaginable in response to the lovely bow and gesture that the woman offered her way.&nbsp; Such manners were all too often lacking in the Bazaar itself, though of course Celeste required all to maintain a certain level of discourse and behavior, though that was ruled as much by fiery passion as polite consideration, as Snogflog and her new suitor had so aptly shown.&nbsp; The woman possessed a certain air about her, a curiosity of the mind and soul, and no doubt of the body.&nbsp; Physical curiosity was hardly a rare thing in Celeste’s establishment, the clientele more than fully suffused with erotic yearnings and the Brides, Courtesans and Staff alike, offered such pleasures and fantasies made incarnate that those yearnings were merely the beginning, the start of what would unfold and envelop a client upon their night there.<br><br>The gnomes were putting the place back together, Psyche and her fortunate prey, his will so elegantly purloined and purchased with her eyes and seductive mind, had departed for elsewhere, while Benjamin entered with a cadre of young ones, mere morsels to the Brides, but a night of the life for the young fellows, even if they were merely lucky enough to find favors given by the Brides still in training, or perhaps even just some of the training devices that the House possessed.&nbsp; Seeing that Travers was getting rather busy, and with Celeste making her way out of the Great Room, for she had much to watch over in her palace of erotic pleasures, Andrea slipped from the stool where she was perched, striding over to the bar, long legs covering the space in a few steps, as she came upon Benjamin and the rather versatile and in demand Travers,<br><br>“What was the lady’s pleasure, Travers?” Andrea asked and as perfectly as always Travers repeated from memory the words of Avicia, not interpreting them for Andrea, but allowing her that privilege, and the knowledge he had gained.<br><br>“Two champagne cosmopolitans then, one with a twist of lemon the other with a touch of midori, Travers, in matching glasses if you will,” she told him and then turned to Benjamin, smiling in appreciation of his efforts, ones which though not always fully known to her in the details, seemed to have an enlivening effect upon the House, clients and staff both,&nbsp; “Your compadres grow more deliciously tasty each time you bring a new one aboard, Benjamin, and so full of zest and eagerness.&nbsp; So lovely to have you brighten our evening just begun, you will be staying and visiting before going off on another adventure, I imagine?” she commented and asked, his compatriots seemed to change from time to time, perhaps some turnover in the lot he hired and employed, perhaps different skills needed for acquiring different treasures, she wasn’t really certain.<br><br>With the drinks completed and set upon the tray, in the elegant stemware that Celeste had likely chosen herself, Andrea took one in each hand, leaving the tray and Travers, the latter to attend to Benjamin's immediate needs, nodding appreciatively to both.&nbsp; She stayed with Benjamin some moments longer, hearing what he had to offer in the way of a verbal treat or two, and then glided across the room to the side of Avicia, even as Celeste slipped fully from sight, moving one step to Andrea’s left to arrive in front of, and to one side, of the glowing and anxious blonde,<br><br>“Lady Avicia, welcome to the One Night Bride, and to any and all pleasures and delights we can offer to sate both your curiosities and desires.&nbsp; A drink for you, choose either, one has a bit or tartness, that is on the left, and the other a hint of melon liqueur, both quite chilled and not sweet or strong, and then again, not too lacking in taste or strength either, as you seem to me to be a woman who possesses both of those qualities,” she offered, the drinks in her hands could be taken without the sharing of a touch, flesh to flesh, or with, as Avicia chose.<br><br>Looking towards the barely visible exit, the Great Room was so elegantly and cleverly designed that certain entrances and exits were almost invisible to those who did not know here to look, allowing grandly mysterious comings and goings,<br><br>“Celeste has much to do this eve, though I am quite certain that you can find her again in a time if that is your desire, but until then, would you share a seat and a tale or two with me whilst we celebrate the brilliant newness of your presence here among us.&nbsp; I am certain that I can speak clearly and, well, loudly seems not very apropos to her style, but perhaps clearly and appreciatively on Celeste’s behalf, to welcome and honor you as our guest.&nbsp; Please, if you would, that sofa nearest the wall draping seems a quiet place to get to know something of you, and to answer any queries and requests you may have,” Andrea offered, taking the drink not chosen by Avicia and pressing it to her lips, sipping it and claiming it with her mouth in a way that only a courtesan could make such a simple act indeed become a claiming, and a marking, as a tiny imprint of her lipstick adorned the glass’s rim when she finished tasting it.&nbsp; <br><br>Meanwhile, her hazel orbs never moved from gazing upon Avicia in a manner that was both thrilled in itself to drink Avicia in even more deeply than she had the bubbly libation, and one that reassured her that her beauty and inherently gentle glamour was quite fitting for the establishment the lady had entered.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Trilby</strong> on <strong>10-05-2017, 05:08:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/AviciaB_zpscg0eysap.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Avicia (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13173582#msg13173582)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Coming to terms with herself<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Andrea<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><hr><hr><br><br>Avicia saw the tall, gracious blonde coming towards her, holding two exquisite crystal stems, and she turned to greet the woman.&nbsp; Her heart was racing, and little waves of excitement shimmered through her, from her belly all the way to her toes and her fingertips.&nbsp; She was no longer standing on the outskirts of the world, looking in.&nbsp; She was on the very edge of taking part in everything this House had to offer.&nbsp; With an odd and exhilarating mixture of apprehension, excitement, and eager impatience, she took a step towards the woman, and another.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; <br>There.&nbsp; It was done; she had chosen.&nbsp; Willingly, deliberately, she had turned her back on the last thirty years of a life that had been dictated to her by others.&nbsp; That life had served her well enough; it had ensured her comfort and security for the rest of her days.&nbsp; How ironic that it had also given her the means to be standing here.&nbsp; But with just those two small steps, Avicia felt the weight of those years fall from her shoulders, and her very soul felt lighter and more joyful.&nbsp; She was free.&nbsp; The next thirty years would be whatever she wished to make of them, and whatever came next would be of her own choosing.&nbsp; For a moment she was dazzled, dizzy with the endless, limitless possibilities spread out before her, ever more inviting, more enticing. And every one of those possibilities, all her new freedom, all her new responsibilities were represented in the warm, beautiful woman with the warm, beautiful smile.&nbsp; She stood serenely, offering Avicia everything in the world, all the countless possibilities that life had to offer, all residing enticingly in a a glass of the finest crystal. <br>&nbsp; <br>“Lady Avicia, welcome to the One Night Bride, and to any and all pleasures and delights we can offer to sate both your curiosities and desires.&nbsp; A drink for you, choose either, one has a bit or tartness, that is on the left, and the other a hint of melon liqueur, both quite chilled and not sweet or strong, and then again, not too lacking in taste or strength either, as you seem to me to be a woman who possesses both of those qualities.”&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; <br>Avicia hesitated for a moment.&nbsp; She was completely enchanted; but she was unsure of how to respond. In her world, women did not discuss such forward things, for women did discuss much of any import at all. "How very kind of you, Mistress Andrea," she said.&nbsp; "Thank you."&nbsp; It seemed so inadequate.&nbsp; Impulsively, for the lack of having fine words of her own, she reached out and touched her fingertips gently to the woman's wrist for a few scant seconds, smiling gratefully up at her, before taking the stem from the woman's left hand. <br>&nbsp; <br>"Cheers," she said simply, lifting her glass to her benefactor.&nbsp; She sipped her drink experimentally, and her face broke out into a smile of sheer delight.&nbsp; "This is lovely, exactly what I told Travers I wanted!"&nbsp; Another sip, a broader smile, and she suddenly looked up at Andrea again with a little twinkle of understanding.&nbsp; It was Andrea, not Travers, who had selected this marvelous drink for her tonight. How kind of her!&nbsp; "You must tell me what it is, so that I may ask for it again!&nbsp; I do regret, though, that I waited too long and lost my chance to speak to Madame Celeste."&nbsp; A small frown of dismay shadowed the bright, lively eyes.&nbsp; What must Celeste think of her?&nbsp; What if she were not allowed to return?<br><br>“Celeste has much to do this eve, though I am quite certain that you can find her again in a time if that is your desire, but until then, would you share a seat and a tale or two with me whilst we celebrate the brilliant newness of your presence here among us.&nbsp; I am certain that I can speak clearly and, well, loudly seems not very apropos to her style, but perhaps clearly and appreciatively on Celeste’s behalf, to welcome and honor you as our guest.&nbsp; Please, if you would, that sofa nearest the wall draping seems a quiet place to get to know something of you, and to answer any queries and requests you may have.” <br>&nbsp; <br>The widow watched, fascinated, as Andrea sipped from her own glass with a sensual grace that Avicia had never seen before.&nbsp; It was dazzling to watch her; every movement, every breath, every flicker of her hazel eyes was like a dance, or a work of art.&nbsp; Her eyes, bright and clear, were fixed on Avicia's own, and the older woman found herself charmed and gratified by the attention.&nbsp; She tore her own eyes away to seek out...&nbsp; Yes, there was the sofa, in a small alcove that nobody else seemed to have noticed.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>"I would love to, Mistress Andrea.&nbsp; How very kind of you."&nbsp; She was repeating herself, and as she turned towards the little alcove, she winced inwardly.&nbsp; She would need to learn how to untie her tongue, and unlearn all the polite and automatic responses that had been acceptable at court.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>Her feet sank luxuriously into the carpets as she walked, and the sofa was small but perfect in its comfort, designed for two people to engage in conversation.&nbsp; Or... or in other activities, she supposed, for that was the whole point of a brothel after all.&nbsp; The music, the comfort, the drinks in their crystal, the rich colours and the rich textures -- they were all here to create the most perfect experience possible for the customers.&nbsp; Even Mistress Andrea.&nbsp; That grace, that intensity, the way she gazed on Avicia, they were all the well-learned tools of a consummate professional.<br>&nbsp; <br>On her way to the One-Night Bride, as Tiye guided her through the twists and turns of the Bazaar, Avicia had reminded herself yet again: she was on her way to a brothel.&nbsp; However elegant, however luxurious, it was still a place that existed for the buying and selling of flesh, pleasure, and dreams.&nbsp; She must not mistake attention for affection, or the trappings of romance for love.&nbsp; Even now, settling comfortably into the sofa, a small voice in the back of Avicia's mind was telling her that Mistress Andrea was a courtesan, a professional seducer, and that all she really wanted was Avicia's coin.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; <br>The small voice was persistent, but it was growing softer and softer.&nbsp; In her head, Avicia knew that she should be wise and wary; she should not accept this woman's interest and kindness at face value.<br>&nbsp; <br>But in her heart, instinctively, she could not believe such a thing.&nbsp; No matter how prudent the warnings were, she simply could not take them seriously.&nbsp; Kindness such as Avicia had been shown was a precious gift, not a trap for the gullible, and there had been far too little of it in her life.&nbsp; She sipped again from her glass, savouring the bright, crisp taste of the lemon, and silenced the small voice in the back of her head once and for all.<br>&nbsp; <br>"You asked about my queries and requests," she said finally, turning on the couch towards Mistress Andrea.&nbsp; Her eyes and her voice were soft, but serious.&nbsp; "I must confess that I don't know what I want.&nbsp; I suppose that sounds strange, but the truth is, I've had very little experience."&nbsp; That sounded strange, too, even to her own ears.&nbsp; "But I know I want something new.&nbsp; Something different."&nbsp; Oh, dear -- that sounded even stranger, and not at all what she had meant.<br>&nbsp; <br>Avicia set her glass down on the side table and turned back towards Mistress Andrea, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, fingers entertwined once more.&nbsp; "It's supposed to be pleasurable," she said earnestly.&nbsp; Her cheeks were flaming crimson, and her voice was almost too low to be heard, but the her eyes met Andrea's frankly, without flinching or wavering.&nbsp; "That's what I want."<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wyatt</strong> on <strong>10-05-2017, 07:06:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6a/ONB_-_Wyatt_-_Andrea.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Andrea Follete (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13135651#msg13135651)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Learning of, and Tempting, Avicia<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Avicia<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br>Andrea gasped so softly at Avicia’s touch that it sounded more like the cooing of a dove, a rather sensual and delectably surprised dive, her hyper sensitive nervous system sending those very pleasurably sublime sensations from her wrist to her mind’s depths time and again even after the grace of Avicia’s touch, and the glass, had departed her hand.<br><br>It seemed as if in a very short time a million and one things, be they possibilities, thoughts, fantasies, even regrets mixed in with all of the more pleasureful things played themselves out in the most subtle and yet, glorious, of ways across Avicia’s expression, her body language, but most truly, in her eyes.&nbsp; Andrea did not have to know what or why these things happened, guesses and conjecture about a guest’s intentions and reasons for being there within the House were not something she dallied in or worried herself about.&nbsp; At night the stars in the sky were beyond counting, beautiful sparkling flecks of brilliance in the sky, and not a thing she might learn from any book or the ramblings of some physicist about the nature of stars was either needed or helpful to her as she gazed upon that celestial majesty, appreciating the mystery of the heavens in a way that made the sight all the more spectacularly beautiful.<br><br>And so it was with Avicia then, that Andrea could watch and see so much within her mind and heart and soul, those thoughts and feelings escaping through her ephemeral presence like flecks of the most ardently lovely starlight, not to be analyzed nor categorized, but instead, Avicia was quite simply a sight of beauty and tremulous grace to behold and appreciate for those very qualities.&nbsp; She offered her delight in what Avicia thanked her for and joined her in the toast, taking another drink, a deeper sip this time of the melon tinged deliciousness, before telling her,<br><br>“You may ask for a champagne Cosmopolitan, Milady, but it is as much in the way you ask as what you ask for.&nbsp; We are all muses, for others, for each other, and your words will inspire the maker of the drink to be more bold and daring and, at the same time, artistically precise in mixing this yummy concoction, if only you grace your request with the same enthusiasm and delight that I now hear in your voice and your words.”<br><br>Andrea was tempted to place her hand upon the small of Avicia’s back as they walked, to return the touch that had been shared with her, but if her touch was desired, there would be time aplenty for it, in time, at the right time, and so she resisted that singularly powerful temptation.<br><br>She walked apace with Avicia, for all the world looking as if they indeed belonged together, be it as lovers, friends or the most rapturous of confidants.&nbsp; Reaching the small and private, though not fully secluded sofa, she turned with an easy crispness upon one heel and her willowy frame settled into the embrace of the cushions with a naturalness that simply was that.&nbsp; One leg crossed with practiced precision and elegance over the other, and after one last sip from her glass, Andrea’s hands settled for the moment in a clasped position, resting upon the knees of her endless legs, knees bared as her tight, form fitting dress rose up her comely thighs a bit upon taking her seat.<br><br>Andrea looked, she listened, not passively, but actively, tasting and hanging upon every word that Avicia uttered.&nbsp; When the relatively few, but so very precious words of Avicia had been said with such emotional conviction, Andrea allowed them to hang in the air as beautifully as they were for a long moment before she replied, at last,<br><br>“Everyday is new, different, oft times in the tiniest and least fulfilling of ways, but that is not your desire, Lady Avicia, even just in the way you so easily call me Mistress, I can feel, taste your calling and craving of something so very new, so very different that the Avicia of yesterday would never have recognized the experience.&nbsp; Yes, it should be pleasurable, and for that I believe you have more experience that matters than you know.&nbsp; But what…what is ‘it’ that you wish to be pleasurable, Milady?” she asked, allowing her own words to dangle enticingly in the air like the earrings did from her ears.<br><br>“Sex,” she said the word with a boldness that was somehow relaxed and beautiful, “Sex should always be pleasurable, Avicia, whether in the fantasizing of it, the memory recalling it, and within the moments that it engulfs you in its ardent and shimmering flames.&nbsp; Is sex that of which you speak and desire pleasure to flow from, Milady?&nbsp; Or is it more, is it the aura of passion, desire, of needs wanting to be fulfilled, and satisfactions borne of rampant ecstasy?&nbsp; Those thoughts, those very ideas and, yes, emotions, they are intensely powerful things, ones that add to and multiply the flavor of physical affections many times beyond what any would imagine otherwise.&nbsp; We offer that here, but more, I see you as a woman wanting…more, Avicia, you desire pleasure to infiltrate and fill to the brim your very life with pleasure, isn’t that true?” Andrea asked, it was an open ended question that didn’t sound like one.<br><br>Avicia had the undivided interest and curiosity of the blonde courtesan, she had gained Andrea’s attentions the moment she arrived, but those attentions become all the more full, and yet in deep need of sating, with each passing moment they spent in each other’s company.&nbsp; <br><br>“Engage the mind, Avicia, as you have already done to mine, and the pleasures of the body will surely follow.&nbsp; We are Brides here, not harlots or whores, neither to be used or to use you, but to be had and to have you.&nbsp; For one night.&nbsp; One night, at a time, to be your Bride and indeed, to be your every pleasure, if that is what you desire, my Lady.&nbsp; Avicia,” Andrea spoke in a purposely halting voice, the way one might lean into a kiss, especially a first kiss, haltingly, carefully, and yet so very, very surely.&nbsp; It was a kiss spoken, and upon Avicia’s ears and mind did the touch of Andrea’s softly pursed lips visceraly touch her words to the woman filling her eyes and sight so spectacularly.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Trilby</strong> on <strong>10-05-2017, 20:47:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/AviciaB_zpscg0eysap.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Avicia (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13173582#msg13173582)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Surprising herself<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Andrea<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><hr><hr><br><br>Eyes wide, all but holding her breath, Avicia listened to Andrea so intently that she no longer heard the sounds that hovered around her, never saw the comings and goings of the other patrons.&nbsp; And she wondered: had Tiye spoken to Andrea or Celeste?&nbsp; Had she told someone here what she had observed of Avicia at her most private?&nbsp; Or was Mistress Andrea simply that brilliant, or Avicia simply that easy to discern?&nbsp; But where this knowledge came from did not matter, for however it had come about, Andrea had effortlessly reached into Avicia’s very heart and soul, found what was there, and brought it to light before Avicia’s eyes.&nbsp; Every word she spoke, every subtle inflection or tone of voice -- everything was hitting the target directly, and some of the words pierced her like darts and arrows.&nbsp; The woman’s astonishing beauty was matched by her equally astonishing insight and perception; and when she spoke of filling life to the brim with pleasure, Avicia could no longer bear to look at the truth of her life, laid open and bare.&nbsp; She realized, to her abject horror, that her eyes were brimming with tears, and she tore herself away from Andrea’s avid, penetrating gaze.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>One hand reached out blindly and not entirely steadily for her glass, found it, brought it to her lips.&nbsp; In just a few moments, Mistress Andrea’s words had unlocked all the pain and the self-doubt and the disappointments that Avicia had stored up for years, and the wave of regret and self-recrimination threatened to overcome her.&nbsp; For so long, she had been less a wife and a woman, than a thing.&nbsp; A possession.&nbsp; Why had she let herself live such a half-life for so many years?&nbsp; Why did she not recognize the damage that was being done?&nbsp; Why did she wait for Lutholf to die before deciding that she deserved some happiness in this life?<br>&nbsp; <br>She took another sip from her glass, struggling to get past this moment of raw, punishing emotion; and when she lifted her gaze to meet Andrea’s again, her eyes were wide and direct, her face open and hopeful.&nbsp; This woman, this stranger, had given her more kindness and shown her more caring than husband or family had done for half a lifetime.&nbsp; The simple, precious joy of being seen whole and not found wanting, of being important to another person for even a few brief moments, had been unfamiliar to her for so very long.<br>&nbsp;<br>Engage the mind, and the pleasures of the body will surely follow.<br>&nbsp; <br>Avicia set her drink down again.&nbsp; Without being fully aware of it, she leaned towards Andrea, her eyes bright with unshed tears, her cheeks flushed with emotion.<br>&nbsp; <br>“Truly, Andrea,” she said, “I don’t know what I expected to find here.&nbsp; Pleasure of course, I suppose, of the kind that can be bought and sold.&nbsp; But certainly not kindness, or any sort of emotional….&nbsp; connection,” she finished, struggling to find the words to express the feelings, powerful and new, that she did not fully understand.&nbsp; “Of course I want a life of happiness and pleasure, and I know that this place won’t provide that for me.&nbsp; But this is a place to start.&nbsp; This is a place where I can learn to enjoy my life again.”&nbsp; <br><br>Avicia paused, and took a moment to collect herself.&nbsp; Her hand reached out and lay gently atop Andrea’s, her touch light, as though she thought she might offend.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; <br>“One night at a time,” she said, her eyes and her smile warm and unguarded.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wyatt</strong> on <strong>11-05-2017, 04:00:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6a/ONB_-_Wyatt_-_Andrea.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Andrea Follete (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13135651#msg13135651)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Seducing Avicia’s Mind???<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Avicia<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br>Andrea’s eyes seemed to shine with a glow that brightened and deepened the amber hue of her hazel irises with each word, every gesture, each moment spent, shared and tasted with Avicia.&nbsp; The woman had a powerful mind, one quite tremulous as it stepped into a realm, one of many she would enter that night and in the future, one full of unknowable things, unguessable pleasures, and that was the point of it after all.&nbsp; To learn by doing, to trust in herself by trusting in another.&nbsp; Andrea would lead her upon the first portions of that path, if Avicia desired, enticing her to take those first brave and beautiful steps into the life Andrea knew the woman desired.<br><br>She gave Avicia time, patience, she gave of herself her smile and beauty, asking nothing in return, speaking not at all, allowing Avicia to make the first contact, and accepting it as given.&nbsp; The warmth of Avicia’s flesh upon her own was enthralling, the first sign that her mind, possibly even her soul were being seduced, more truly Avicia’s own seductive side and nature being drawn out, and her body had indeed begun to follow.<br><br>“Every life begins with a single day, and night, each time you wake anew, it begins again,” Andrea told her as Avicia’s hand rested atop of Andrea’s.<br><br>Then Andrea did the simplest of things, and yet it was so utterly far from simple.&nbsp; The hand upon which Avicia had lain her own, after several moments of the sweetest intimacy possible, turned over and pressed her palm to Avicia’s palm.<br><br>“Every connection begins with a single touch, my Lady.”<br><br>Then, when a few more intricately complex moments of pure delight and affection had been shared that way, Andrea’s long and elegant fingers slipped between and interlaced with their counterparts upon Avicia’s lovely hand, entwining the women together in both the most and least innocent of ways, she suspected at least from what her experiences and senses told her, that Avicia had never touched another woman in this fashion, and Andrea was filled with the thrill and newness of it for and with her.<br><br>“Every night taking a Bride to be yours begins with a single kiss,” she spoke the words to Avicia, her eyes gazing deeply into the woman’s own and piercing into her soul, even as her hand drew up Avicia’s to meet Andrea’s lips as the willowy blonde leaned forward, pressing the soft pleasure and gentle passion, gentle for the moment for the moment was gentle, to the back of Avicia’s hand.<br><br>The kiss upon her hand was warm, silken, languid as her eyes invited Avicia’s eyes to dance with them as the kiss lingered, then lifting her lips from where the faintest of pink colors from Andrea’s lips now marked Avicia’s flesh, warm, truly heated breath rushed and trundled from Andrea’s partly open mouth along and across Avicia’s hand and down around her wrist.<br><br>“Avicia,” she spoke as her head rose further and leaned towards the middle line between the women’s bodies, an invisible line in the air, one that had been pierced by hands touching and holding, by a kiss delivered upon Avicia, but behind Andrea’s side of that line, and now she offered to meet her there at that line, not to pierce it, but to make that line, one that had separated Avicia from so many and so much for so incredibly long, to make it disappear and no longer exist.<br><br>“I ask to share myself with you on this first night, my Lady, to be your Bride all the night long, to ask more than you know to give, to seek more than you realize you possess, but to take nothing other than that you are moved to share and give.&nbsp; There can be no price discussed, nor paid this night, it is a brothel and I am who I am, but there are times and things and moments that are priceless, so worthy of passion and desire and so filled with need that truly, it is I who feel, among so many things, a deep and abiding debt to you for taking me as yours this eve…” she paused and for once the blonde tigress so filled with power and majesty as her marks of beauty, she became the tremulous and needful one, the one who was unsure and willing to trust in Avicia that indeed, Andrea was wanted, would be taken as her Bride that night, “...if you will have me.”<br><br>Andrea could not help but to add one more thing as her tongue ran itself around the circumference of her pliant and pretty lips, wetting them and tasting them at once,<br><br>“You did not choose the melon flavor, but please, taste the sinful pleasure of it upon my lips…” she asked and offered, Andrea having pushed and pierced the invisible line as much as she dared on her own, her mouth and gaze now calling Avicia to take that enormous and frighteningly beautiful step, to meet Andrea’s lips with her own and to connect with a part of herself she had never guessed might exist in her so very beautiful being and thoughts.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Trilby</strong> on <strong>12-05-2017, 19:21:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/AviciaB_zpscg0eysap.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Avicia (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13173582#msg13173582)</strong><br><br><strong>CLIENT</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Helpless<br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Andrea<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><hr><hr><br><br>Somewhere, a horizon had been crossed.&nbsp; Not in a single step, and not without doubt, but in many small motions, halting and hesitant; but always forward, always in a single and sure direction.&nbsp; When she accepted the champagne cocktail from Andrea, Avicia had been solidly on one side of that shameful, forbidden line.&nbsp; When Andrea turned her hand upwards, interlacing their fingers with palm to warm palm, the widow was astonished to find that somehow, without meaning to, she had passed completely beyond the boundaries she had lived with her entire adult life.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; <br>And when Andrea lifted her hand for a kiss, Avicia’s very soul shook and her limits shattered on the spot.&nbsp; She heard herself gasp out loud, catching her breath at the sheer sensuality, at the erotic charge of such a simple act.&nbsp; Her hand had been kissed a thousand times before; a polite, perfunctory gesture.&nbsp; Occasionally, a man’s lips had lingered there longer than was proper, or had moved over her flesh in a way that made Lutholf scowl.&nbsp; But never, never, never had she felt the heat, the tenderness, the desire that flooded her senses as Andrea’s warm lips and warmer breath caressed her hand.&nbsp; Her heart beat all the harder, her breath came all the quicker at the immense surprise at how the avid hunger consumed her.<br>&nbsp; <br>Was she so starved for affection, for attention, for the tender and intimate touch of another that she was willing to throw herself so wantonly and the first person who showed her kindness?&nbsp; If she was, it didn’t matter.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; <br>It was sinful.&nbsp; It was degenerate and depraved.&nbsp; And that did not matter either.<br>&nbsp; <br>Her eyes, wide and clear and unwavering, held Andrea’s gaze.&nbsp; Be it foolishness or not foolishness, be it sin or not sin, it made no difference to Avecia.&nbsp; In her heart and her thoughts, she had already accepted whatever Andrea might choose to offer her.&nbsp; And her body had followed, without hesitation or pause.&nbsp; She physically ached for the touch of her tall, beautiful benefactor; she desperately longed to feel that cool, pale skin against her own heated flesh.&nbsp; There was one more step she must take, only one, and everything she had longed for, everything she had come here seeking, would be within her grasp.&nbsp; It was within her reach even now, but some last fear, some last shyness or uncertainty kept her frozen in time and place.&nbsp; &nbsp;Everything she yearned for was beside her, clad in white hair and hazel eyes and a clear, lively, perceptive mind; and Avecia had no idea how to claim it. <br>&nbsp; <br>Generous and kind, Andrea showed her the way once more.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>Avicia’s eyes were still fixed on Andrea’s.&nbsp; One hand reached out slowly, savoring the moment, and her soft, light fingertips caressed Andrea’s cheek.&nbsp; Her other hand followed, catching the courtesan by the waist, fingers fondling the woman’s body experimentally.&nbsp; Her breath was rapid and shallow, and her pulse was racing in her temples, but fear and trepidation had both vanished, defeated by Andrea’s kindness and her tenderness.&nbsp; Without hesitation, her choice made long before this moment, Avicia slid her hand to the small of her Bride’s back.&nbsp; Fearless, alive with passion, she closed the small distance between their bodies and drew her plump curves tight against the slender, willowy, luscious frame.&nbsp; Gently, slowly, treasuring every moment, she brought the tall woman’s head down to hers, and with her fingers tangling in the soft white hair, Avicia took Andrea’s full, soft lips with her own.&nbsp; It was only the space of a few rapid heartbeats before she relaxed into the kiss with a deep, hearfelt sigh.&nbsp; Her mouth and her soul opened to Andrea, giving all she was and all she had to her chosen Bride, and the taste of melon and lemon mingled into a singular, unique taste on their tongues.<br><br>&nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Top Cat</strong> on <strong>12-05-2017, 21:39:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/PsVJPDa.jpg)</div><br><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Benjamin Benedict Brighton (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13173582#msg13173582)</strong><br><br><strong>STAFF</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong> Patience is a virtue... and a pain in the ass. <br><br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Travers, Open<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br><br><hr><hr><br>Benjamin watched out of idle curiosity as Andrea descended on the primly dressed woman and swept her off her feet. It wasn't a surprise - Andrea (and many of the other Brides and Grooms) was quite talented at that. But it was only of momentary interest to Benjamin. <br><br>Benjamin was not an <em>impatient</em> man, precisely; patience had its place in bartering, and it wasn't uncommon for him to have to wait for the right moment for a deal (or a heist) to work. But he hated <em>idling</em>, waiting for things to happen, and his patience absolutely wore thin when he started to feel the pull of wanderlust again, guiding him to new adventures to experience and new treasures to be claimed, both for himself and for others. <br><br>With boredom starting to edge into his view, he pulled out the small book in his waistcoat pocket, and started reading it. He had already read it completely, but he knew that any story had hidden paths, bits that were not evident on the first read-through that only came into light with multiple readings. He momentarily admired the leather work - something that would never have been done where he came from. Leather had such great value for the airships that it could scarcely be used for anything else; the only other known use was for foppishly extravagant clothing. Using it to hold a <em>book</em> - that was unheard of, and for a person's private diary even moreso. <br><br>He cracked the leather binding with care, and started reading. <br><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">A few paragraphs</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://i.imgur.com/JRGliw2.png)</div></div> </div><br>Closing the book again, he puzzled at his own <em>knowledge </em>that Madame Celeste would want this. He'd never met a succubus, or any other form of sex demon. While he'd found that the legend of sexy, lethal women existed everywhere, in every world, it varied - and to the best of his knowledge, they didn't actually <em>exist</em> where he'd come from. But his time in the Bazaar and the myriad worlds it connected to had convinced him that there was no such thing as <em>impossible</em> - there was only that which one had not experienced yet. <br><br>He was the Acquisitions Specialist of the One Night Bride, not one of the Husbands himself; his talent was in finding things. He knew the usual things that would always be in demand for the House - both residents and guests would always want food and alcohol in varying quantities, and variety was <em>very much</em> the spice of life here. But every now and then, he picked up some oddity that he <em>knew</em> should be delivered to someone specific. Often, they didn't even know that they <em>wanted</em> it until they'd had it for some time, and the utility of the item became suddenly apparent. Less often, it was a more general need, and that's what he figured was the case with this book - being a unique tale of the life of a sex demon who found love would go quite well in the House's library. But Benjamin's sense told him that it had to be delivered to Madame Celeste, specifically and personally, so that was what he intended to do. <br><br>It was truly none of his business <em>why</em> she would want it, although it did prick at his curiosity. He knew that he would likely never know... but perhaps the Madame would be so gracious as to tell him, once <em>she</em> knew. He knew it was not a pressing need, though - it was not urgent to deliver it to her <em>now</em>, and he was comfortable with carrying it until the next time he met her in person. <em>And... probably alone?</em> he thought, wondering why <em>that</em> would be. <br><br>Retrieving another rocks glass of whisky from the bar, he sat back down off to the side and continued reading, the day-to-day goings-on of the Great Room no longer interesting him. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: 🎩 The One-Night Bride - Great Room (Reception Area)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wyatt</strong> on <strong>13-05-2017, 22:35:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6a/ONB_-_Wyatt_-_Andrea.jpg)</div><br><strong>Name:&nbsp; Andrea Follete (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13135651#msg13135651)</strong><br><br><strong>COURTESAN</strong><br><br><strong>Situation:</strong>&nbsp; Claimed by Avicia<br><br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Avicia<br><br><strong>Content Warning:</strong> <em>None</em><br><br>Avicia’s beauty was so quiet and still, touching Andrea, hand holding hand, her finest offering made, waiting to be accepted.&nbsp; Andrea hungered, no, more truly thirsted for the woman’s touch, her taste, most of all, for her affections.&nbsp; A Courtesan was a Courtesan, but a One Night Bride, that was something that could and should be so much more.&nbsp; Yes, she was a woman who gave and took pleasure from others, and indeed a heft y price of some kind was usually required to participate in that sharing of pleasures, but the Bride, to be a Bride, that is where Madame Celeste’s brilliance outshone all others.&nbsp; Semele was an incredible creature, an unknowable one like Celeste herself, in that regard at least.&nbsp; But the brothel Semele owned, though filled with gorgeous, exotic and talented performers to match or exceed any other, it still merely offered Courtesans and the like, drink and flesh, the best money could buy.&nbsp; This was more, and Andrea trembled, barely within notice, but she trembled because of it.<br><br>An innocent beauty like Avicia, would not find in any other House that which she was finding here.&nbsp; Her innately and deliciously sinful nature, a nature all possessed and too few reveled in as fully as they should, Andrea could bring out of her, as could any Courtesan, but far too many would ruin her in the process.&nbsp; A Bride was never innocent, but never entirely sinful.&nbsp; The achingly powerful way in which Avicia drew herself closer to Andrea, and Andrea to her, the pressing of her amply soft and erotic curves to Andrea’s long and arching frame that melted into that of the woman claiming her, it was Avicia becoming more, not less.&nbsp; The touch of their lips melded across the spectrum from soft and glorious in its gentleness, to deeper and deeper, each learning and knowing what it meant, how it felt to kiss the other.&nbsp; Their tongue met and mouths contorted together in a manner both beautiful and wantonly sensuous, the line that had separated them the bonds that had held Avicia to a place so deeply within her own self had been erased, and Andrea’s free hand curled around her lover, the lover who had just claimed Andrea as her Bride, slipping long and powerfully elegant fingers up and into Avicia’s thick golden mane as their tongues, lips, the everything of their mouths made love one top the other and the women curled around each other, pressing the space between them to nothingness and opening a thousand doors to the future, as one heavy and difficult door to the past was closed, and more importantly, left in the past.<br><br>The kiss lasted and lasted, Andrea grasped at Avicia’s hair, not pulling it, but holding it at times and pulsing with small reaches and combing motions through it as they both relaxed into the luxurious beauty of the kiss, one that awoke every part of their bodies to possibilities, wants, delicious hungers, until at last the kiss and the ten or so small kisses that followed like aftershocks, tender and desperate in so many ways, finally broke and parted, with Andrea’s still tingling lips curling into a girlishly lovely and stunningly glowing smile.<br><br>“I am your Bride, Avicia, I love being claimed by you.&nbsp; Alone, with me, please?” she asked in a breathy plea.&nbsp; When Avicia was willing and able, Andrea took her hand that was still held in Andrea’s, rose and drew Avicia to her feet and another kiss upon that hand and wrist as she stood and began to move with Andrea.&nbsp; Their steps were smooth and easy, walking on air must be indeed feel like they did then, coming to a door with a singular ruby used to open the door and then to sequester their private times within.&nbsp; Nodding to the gem, Andrea asked again, for she was the Bride and Avicia had claimed her,<br><br>“Yours to lead, my Lady, my pleasure to be entirely yours.”<br><br><br>===To the Ruby Room===&gt;&gt;&nbsp; &nbsp;https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=267498.0
			</dd>
		</dl>
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