A Master and His Canvas (Warning: Mature Content)

[Jaycy Ashleana]

It was a blur of motion. If you blinked, you may have missed it entirely. In an instant, the door had opened and closed, a figure drifted through the patrons in a path around the bar, leaving a gust of wind in his wake. In less than a second, Vorn was casually filling a mug with black ale as if nothing had happened, a blood red cigarette hanging lazily from his lips.

The mug filled to the rim, another blur carried the Bladecatcher to a barstool, without the slightest slosh or spill. It was then that the shit-eating grin on his face became apparent, as he stared off into the fire with pinpoint pupils, obviously long since intoxicated, and by more than just the opium he smoked and the ale he drank.

Jaycy slipped in, dressed in her more usual jeans, tshirt and bomber jacket. Hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket as she moved deeper into the Inn, green-gold gaze peering about. Noting a certain person at the bar, she grinned slightly. She took a breath and began the trek through the tables toward the bar – and him.

Distant eyes drifted about the room, hesitating for a moment on the singer, remembered from the festival... but the sight of her companions revolted the man to the very core. Vorn quickly turned his gaze elsewhere in disgust, only to find a familiar face that ripped the sour expression from his face like a cheap plastic mask. "...Jaycy." Her immediate approach only broadened the smile that had taken him at the sight of her. "'ello, m'lovely. 's been a while."

Her slight grin broadened in response to the pleasant greeting and his expression. Her pace quickened at the positive reception and soon enough she was at his side - even seated or leaning against the bar she needed to stand on tiptoes to make the attempt of kissing him hello. The kiss was to the lips, yes, but light, short, and just shy of teasing. Words could come in a moment or two, it seemed.

Despite their... adventures... the greeting was somewhat unexpected, and Vorn's eyes widened slightly although he'd be the last to protest. "Hmm... d'ya miss me?" A hand slowly reached out - for this, his speed was quite unnecessary - and his fingertips teased with a stray lock of her hair. Red had become his favorite color as of late.

She allowed the touch to her hair for a moment, even tilting her head toward the touch. Soon, however, she reached up to gently curl fingers around his wrist and pull it away from her... just enough to break the contact. Then she released him and set both palms onto the bar behind her, elbows crooking, crouching. She then hopped up and back, to settle herself on the edge of the bartop next to - and close to! – him. “Of course not.” The tone of her voice belied the words, and the grin did the same. “Did you miss me at all?”

Her sudden removal of his hand was answered by a deep draw from the cigarette in the other. "More than y'know," spoken through a spill of white smoke. "...an' like I told y'before, yer a rotten liar."

The removal was only temporary, really, so her hair wouldn't be pulled out in the jump onto the bar. Her proximity to him seemed to indicate she wouldn't mind further contact, either. “Only when it doesn't count, love.” She chuckled softly, crossing her dangling legs at the ankle. One of her hands reached out to run fingers through his black strands, even going so far as to tuck one behind his ear. “I'm glad to see you. I need your hands on me again.” She paused for several seconds. “For the tattoo.”

Much as she had before, Vorn leaned his head slightly into the contact, his lips curling into something almost devious. "M'hands are yours whenever y'want them. I told ya as much b'fore." If there was one thing this man certainly lacked, it was shame over something he considered as natural as breathing. "...an' I always keep m'promises." To emphasize his words, a hand flicked out toward her side, one of the places he'd indicated for the images they'd spoken of, tracing an outline. "O'course, we'll need some privacy." He winked and gave a slight tug to the edge of her jacket. "The best part o'my work is the sights I get t'see... and I'll never tire o'seein' yours."

“Ah, but if we have too much privacy I may never get the work done.” She teasingly replied, fingers travelling down to the nape of his neck to tickle lightly. Her other hand reached for his at the jacket, to guide it underneath and onto her side, close to the hem of the t-shirt. Not that she was hinting or anything. “How long will you be here, in town, so I can make my ... appointment?” She tilted her head slightly, allowing fingers to continue dancing over the nape in a tuneless rhythm.

Hinting or not, Vorn's eyes lit brightly as his fingertips slowly invaded her clothing altogether, relishing in the feel of her skin, scars and all. Subtlety, however, was not his strong suit; his ascending touch was quite brazen, heedless of any watching eyes. "As long as y'should need me. I'll be 'round till at least midsummer. Plenty o' time for as many... appointments... as y'd like, m'lovely."

[Jaycy Ashleana]

Fingers clenched at his nape, the barest hint of claws touching his flesh as she allowed her eyelids to flutter closed briefly in that brazen contact. A slow intake of breath, then it was released. “ah, Vorn... you have no idea how much I'm going to take you up on that.” Unfortunately, she was so caught up in him that she failed to spy Scotty - at least for the moment. Finally she opened her eyes once more, turning glimmering green-golds onto Vorn. “And you know what'll be fun? Driving you insane between times, and knowing you'll like it because you know I won't truly deny you.” an almost dark grin crawled across her face at the thought. Scotty tilted his head some at Jaycy on the bar, apparently in quite a... a... moment there, looking maybe a bit confused.

The ascending hand showed no sign of slowing, and Vorn's casual tone indicated he thought nothing of it whatsoever. "Y'take pleasure in th'torture, don't ya?" His wicked smile was something to behold, until another draw of smoke took the attention of his lips. "I'd be hurt, but th'game you play is a lovely one indeed." Half of the strange cigarette still remained, and he turned it about in a motion too fast to be seen by the naked eye. "Care for a taste?" Vorn offered it up toward Jaycy innocently.

No, Scotty wasn’t going to interrupt that scene!

A low, rumbling purr escaped from deep within Jaycy. She didn't move the hand, or seek to stop it. “If you didn't encourage me, I wouldn't play. I am at your command, m'lord.” Clawed fingers pressed into his flesh - not enough to break skin but to remind him of their presence. At his offer, she shook her head. “No, thank you. It's a habit I don't want to start.” Her other hand dropped to his elbow - the elbow of the arm close to her, to knead there lightly.

The Scot’s words to Harris make her ears twitch. Ohh, she knew that voice! Swiftly she looked around (without disengaging from Vorn, though) and upon spying him she offered a bright grin! A bright grin that dissolved into a soft gasp and a return to the man she was settled so close to.

"Perhaps there's wisdom in that," Vorn smiled, his free hand toying with a long strip of cloth he'd seemingly produced from thin air, the cigarette back between his lips. "I'll always encourage, but... never command, m'lovely."

Scotty caught that grin and grinned right back at her, though he didn't go and get all vouyeristic, when it was pretty clear that she was really on the busy side. He just smiled to himself, then replied to Harris.

“Mmm. A pity.” She crooned to Vorn, with a cheshire smile. She withdrew her touch from elbow and neck, flexing both hands for a moment and then scooting back and leaving him to play with the cloth, away from him along the bar. She turned on the bartop and allowed her legs to drop behind it, then she fell off the edge to stand somewhat near Scotty. “Hug me, you fool.”

His mind left to its own devices for the moment, a slick grin stretched Vorn's lips as the strip of cloth was now wrapped about his arm like a bandage. "Wicked, y'are." he muttered into his ale, taking a deep gulp.

She granted an arch look toward Vorn before turning again toward Scotty, easing another step closer to him. She didn't say anything the second time, but merely opened her arms in silent request.

Well, he wasn’t gonna deny that. He nodded to Harris and then right into Jaycy's arms he went. “ How are ye?”

Catching Jaycy's gaze, he flicked his arm out and the strip of cloth became a makeshift whip, giving her a slight *pop* on the arse, before winding back around his arm just like before. One last drag from his cigarette followed, then it was crushed into a nearby tray.

Her arms wrapped around him for a tight, warm "I missed you" hug. She even went so far as to kiss his cheek. She also managed not to react outwardly toward the "attack" from Vorn, though there was a faint chuckle in her hug with Scotty. “Busy, and you? Psly says hello, as well.”

He blinked at the little 'attack', then shook it off and grinned. “Still alive. We ended up Nexus-bumped fer a week or so. Just gettin' back together here some. Tell him I say hi back?”

“Aye, of course. You'll have to tell me of your adventure, too, soon.” She gave one more light squeeze before pulling back. She'd seen the crab and didn't want to take up too much of his distraction but she *had* to say hi. Another smile, then she withdrew and hopped onto the bar again, scooting toward Vorn once more. A brow arched toward him. “Did you call me wicked a few moments ago?”

"I did indeed," Vorn snickered slightly, leaning back against the bar to curl an arm around her waist. For now it seemed to behave itself. "Have y'a protest?" He waggled the other slightly, displaying that strip of cloth with a smile. "I went t'all that effort..."

“Mayhap. Are you going to do something about me being wicked?” The brow remained elevated as she reached out for the dangling end of that strip of cloth. “You did, but for what reason?” The grin resurfaced, lips quirked upward. “Content with just that tonight, knowing I'm leaving without you?”

[Jaycy Ashleana]

Vorn took her taunting as an invitation, and that invading hand began its journey anew. "Quite so, m'lovely... although y'don't have t'leave without me," his grin was utterly infectious, and her reaching fingers felt a series of soft slaps from that bit of cloth that he diligently kept from her grasp. This time the creep of his touch wasted very little time in obtaining the treasures he'd unwrapped. The movement was much more subtle now, as his arm came from behind, curled around her body like a snake.

She shifted slightly, allowing her eyes to shut once more. Her back arched a little, and she curled fingers around whatever bit of his forearm that she can reach. “Ah, love...” Her words were just a hint more breathless and spoken without looking at him. “I know I don't have to. But I'm going to, to let you dream of me.” A booted foot edged out, toward his side, to rub against it lightly.

Encouraged by her every move, and particularly the palpable change in her pulse and the catch of her breath, Vorn's touch became consuming. Every inch of skin explored, teased, and truly admired. "Then m'dreams shall be wonderful," Vorn grinned, reveling in every reaction he gained from her. "...it won't be th'first time I've 'wakened in a strange bed and wished it was yours."

"Once just wasn't enough, I'm 'fraid..."

She gave a faint, almost inaudible moan as she shuddered under his touch, shifting her body to encourage contact with perhaps certain more sensitive areas than others - including her sides. Her movements were subtle, though. Her voice remained soft, husked. “I'm going to have to agree.” Slowly, carefully, she eased down off the bar. Slowly, so his arm could follow without losing contact with her. Close, she leaned in to press against him as best she could, and pushed up on tiptoes to deliver another kiss - this one the opposite of the greeting. Demanding, fiery, aggressive.

It was impulsive, so fast that it seemed she'd teleported, that he picked Jaycy up and set her onto his lap, never breaking that kiss. Vorn decided he would give her something to dream about as well. A meep of surprise escaped in the movement but she didn't break that kiss. In fact, she wiggled on his lap, shifting, to grind against him for a moment.

Granted such access and freedom, Vorn neglected nothing; once he had her on his lap, it was no longer one hand, but two that began at her breasts, but made their way to her sides and back. Even her scars, which he no longer feared, were traced by gentle fingertips, almost reverently. The grinding motion was almost unconsciously reciprocated, she could feel just how awakened he'd become.

Not breaking the kiss for a long moment either, her hands came up to either side of his neck, curling around it, rubbing lightly without being restrictive. When she finally did pull away, however, panting, she pushed lightly on one side to tilt his head and allow her easier access for a trail of kisses over his jawline, up that neck, and toward his ear.

Except for the grinding, the subtle hint of it, she kept her hands at his neck. Though there was a slight opening of her legs, of her body in the wanting of him. She refused to be obvious, though. She took the lobe of his ear between her lips and suckled for a moment before murmuring, "I can't tell you how much I want you inside me right here, right now."

In a rare moment, Vorn's own eyes closed, his head sinking into the crook of Jaycy's neck and shoulder, hands still inside her shirt. It seemed even he had a few weaknesses. She gave one last very light, loving nip at his earlobe. “Goodnight, love.” She spoke, but didn’t make a move to slide off his lap just yet.

"Sweet dreams, Jaycy..." His own voice subdued by a lack of breath and devouring lust. He would not release her, however, until she made the first move to depart. "I can grant your wish, m'lovely..." he whispered softly, although he knew she would not take him up on the offer. Instead a hand drifted down, hidden from view by their closeness, directly into her pants. He intended to steal at least one touch before she left him shivering. "...any time, m'lovely."

She didn't seem unhappy in the attempt - in fact, she seemed to encourage it with a subtle but effective trick that he couldn't have known about previously. Her stomach and hips seemed to become more slender as if she were losing weight before his very touch, allowing more room in her pants for his questing hand, and her legs opened just that little more to assist him. When he actually made contact, there was a soft moan into his neck, then she nipped there. "Tomorrow?" The question was whispered against his skin. Her arms curled up and around his neck. She pulled close to him, lifting her body very slightly.

Vorn seemed to be frozen to the spot, whispering between soft presses of his lips against her neck. "O'course," the soft, almost breathless whisper came as he let his fingers take as much of her as she would offer. The other was out of her shirt for the briefest moment before reasserting itself; in that space of time a card was placed in her pocket, with the location of the loft he'd rented for a makeshift studio. "I'll be there." He couldn't care less if anyone saw where his hand settled, so absorbed was he in the beauty upon his lap.

She eased back, unfurling her arms from his neck. One traveled out and to his shoulder, then down his arm and to the wrist. She curled fingers around it, to finally pull his hand from her pants. She was reacting, of course, both in ways visible and tangible (a shuddering that wracks through her, the moisture on his fingers) and knew that if she didn't leave soon she wouldn't be able to stop herself. She had her limits. She squeezed that wrist, then darted in for one last stolen kiss. Swift and hard, a peck, and then a whisper against his lips "So will I." She pushed herself back and off his lap. A final look, then she made her way for the door ... not even seeking to take her cloth back or adjust the crumpled tshirt under her jacket. She was quickly gone, though not at a run as she had done once before.

"Good night, love." Vorn's smile was utterly devious as he licked his fingertips, his eyes following Jaycy until the door closed behind her. "Th'damn woman's gonna kill me," Vorn muttered to no one in particular, and downed the rest of his ale in one long draught. With that, he was gone.

(( Adapted from live play, 5/10/10. Thanks to Scotty and Vorn (Bladcatcher)! ))

[Jaycy Ashleana]

The First Tattoo – the Tiger

Vorn had prepared, and without his usual lightning speed. The furniture was all against the walls, save for a huge table in the center of the room, topped by a firm mattress. To the side was a chair and a stand with dozens of needles and inks, nearly every color imaginable. One who moved such as he didn't need that silly gun most used these days... and his method was much more personal, more intimate. It was rare that he did this for anyone, especially without first having agreed on a rather high sum of coin. It was on that chair he now sat, breathing smoke, two bottles into a case of twelve of Black Tar™ ale.

It was a good thing she didn't specify a time to arrive - it meant she couldn't be late when she got lost! She'd taken the bike, but still had little idea how to use that blasted navigational system. Finding the store that his studio was located over wasn't easy, but finally she managed. The motorcycle was parked outside and she climbed off, freeing her red- and silver- hair from the protective helmet. She settled that in a compartment behind the bike's seat and then turned toward the building, looking for the right door. She strode to one and reached for the knob, to turn it. Luckily it was the right one and she was rewarded with a set of stairs. She didn't take them two at a time (short legs) but she did hurry. Soon enough she' was at the door to the studio, knuckles rapping three times upon it.

"'s'open, m'lovely." Mind you, the man had no way to divine the visitor's identity, but this place was secret. As far as most knew, it was just an abandoned building. Vorn was squatting, but no one seemed to care... yet, and if they did, they wouldn't knock. "Yer earlier than I 'xpected."

She leaned in after the knocking to more easily hear the response. Her lips curved up in a slight smile; he didn't know that something had happened to dampen her mood but just hearing his voice seemed to be stirring the earlier good humor. She took a deep breath and then wrapped her hand slowly around the knob, turning it and pushing the door. For their meeting she was in jeans, boots, a yellow t-shirt and her bomber jacket. She slipped through the space and twisted, to carefully make sure the door was closed behind her. In fact, she further made sure to lock it. Finally, assured they likely wouldn't be disturbed, Jaycy faced him, the slight smile playing on her lips. “Is that bad? Do I need to go away?” With the words, she shrugged first out of the bomber jacket, allowing it to puddle at the floor, then she grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it up over her head. That dropped to the ground as well. There was no cloth band of support beneath the t-shirt.

"Mmm... absolutely not, love." The band was still wrapped around his arm, worn even as he'd spent the last night in another woman's arms. A reminder, maybe? As he regarded her, stripped to the waist, his head shook slightly. "But y'don't have t'do my work for me." In that moment he was upon her, the wrapped arm slipping around her back, fingers driving up into that silver-red spill he'd grown quite fond of. The other set itself upon her cheek, drawing a slow line downward. "...all y'have to do is relax."

Her head tilted back at the touches, her chest arching up and toward his. Lips parted, allowing a soft sigh to escape. Her hands came up, seeking to make contact with his upper arms, gliding her palms over his flesh, up, inching toward his shoulders where fingers clenched. Her words were slightly husked, deep, soft. “In the way you need me relaxed, I am.” Green-gold eyes peered up, hooded. It seemed that first touch from him acted like a switch; it may have been something she'd been anticipating all day. From her reaction it seemed like it was. “But if we don't start work, we'll never get done.” Her words said that, but the tongue over her lips, the glint in her eyes, they might have been saying something different.

"Indeed..." Temptation pulled him in two directions at once, but both of them led to the same destination for now - the mattress on the table, with her wearing nothing but a hairstyle, one that he was currently ruining. "...I only work on th'finest of canvas, o'course." With that, he made to finish her undressing, but without his speed. Vorn would slowly unveil her like a dearly awaited gift, and a devouring kiss sought her lips, something he'd long been unable to resist. Two nights of being denied had made the taste all the sweeter even now.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

She'd left her hair down completely, knowing where she was going today. Luckily there wasn't much ruining of free-flowing waves down her back. She gasped softly at the initiation of the plundering kiss but swiftly opened herself to him, responding with her own need. She didn't help him remove the jeans, however (and nothing underneath there, either). The low boots also remained an impediment to full removal of the pants, anyway. She lifted one foot after the other, rubbing the booted foot against the back of the other boot to encourage them off, stepping up and out of them without breaking the kiss. Her hands remained at his shoulders, their clinging hold tight (but at the moment non-clawed).

For the time he left those jeans on, instead picking her up by the thighs, wrapping them around his hips, the kiss held above all else. Somehow Jaycy found herself on her back on the mattress, although his movement had been so fluid despite its quickness that they'd not be jarred in the slightest. It was a very well-practiced act, performed countless nights over several decades. It was then he'd finish what he'd started, and only by a hair's breadth could Vorn resist the urge to tear the cloth from her body.

The movement, smooth though it was, still drew another meep of surprise. Eyes that had closed in the kiss opened fleetingly - at least until the kiss itself overtook thoughts of anything else; the kiss and contact with his skin. The need for contact made her slide her hands from his shoulders to his back, to push his chest down onto her even as she arched up into him. It probably wouldn't and didn't impede any removal of the jeans because of his speed; at any rate, her hips lifted slightly from the mattress and made it easier to perform the undressing. Finally, though, she was the one to break the kiss, panting, dropping her head back. Work, love...” Breaths came shallowly between the words.

"...work," he repeated heavily, and just as his hips had sunk down to rest between her now naked thighs; despite still being clothed, it was enough to set his blood on fire. "...yes, m'lovely... then we can play..." The spark in his black eyes promised just that. Slowly, reluctantly... even painfully, he drew upward, but only to kneel between her knees. Those eyes examined every inch, as if he were painting her with his eyes. "Where shall we start?" A hand settled then on her thigh, very high up. "Here, perhaps? Th'serpent? Or perhaps..." Leaning forward, he traced the familiar pattern on her side. "Yer proud predator?" The last he would not mention, not yet. The dragon would be the greatest, the largest, and by far the most painful of the three... a work best saved for last.

Even though it was her that broke the kiss, she still moaned with the withdrawal. The reconnection, the touch to first her thigh and then her side, sent her squirming. Hands clenched at her sides (having slid off his shoulders when he pulled back) and she looked up at him, chest heaving. She took several moments to calm down that breathing. “No ... before ... before we start ... we need another place for .... for the dragon. It'd be ruined.” Nothing like thinking of logistics - and not his hands that would be on her in the creation of the tattoos - to slow the blazing fire inside. She tried to scoot back away from him, only enough so she could sit up. She needed to show him the reason, not just say it.

"I know what y'are, Jaycy." The claws, the ever-so convenient changes in her body, they told him much, even if not quite everything. "...but by all means, show me." Calm eyes still admired her every inch, even as barely contained lust burned just behind the pupils.

She continued to scoot back, until she was near the edge and able to kneel. A moment's pause as her eyes closed, but then her arms began to stretch out toward her sides. Briefly, it seemed like nothing was happening ... until the great black-striped silver wings erupted from her shoulderblades and spread, the span close to nine feet. The junction of the wings met at the center of the spine, high on her back - in the area where she believed he wanted to place the dragon. She climbed off the mattress carefully, standing next to it. “If I didn't have this half ... form .... it would be no problem. But I wouldn't want to ruin your art by these.” Calmed mostly for the moment, she focused on the "work".

"...incredible." Truly awed, Vorn came around to stand behind her, his hands reaching out to touch the great wings, and trace along the skin from where they emerged. "...this, I did not expect. T'think, I've been mak'n love t'a dragonborn. The clan would be so jealous..." Not to be too distracted once he'd put his mind to his task, he quickly returned to it. "A simple solution, love." Below the base of the wings, he traced an outline with both hands. "Descending in flight... and the tail... just so..." A single fingertip drifted between them, upward to the base of her neck. "Is that where y'd like t'start? 't'will be th'most intense... and th'most painful. By far." The tone of his voice would infer that his warning not be taken lightly... even to one so obviously used to pain, by the scars she bore.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

Sensitive to his touch, the outline brought a soft sigh - the finger upward caused that tiny shiver and her left leg fell back, shifting closer toward him involuntarily. She was mindful of the wings, though, allowing them to droop to the sides and curve a little back, around him loosely. “Not born, but that is part of the tale I owe.” She breathed in, then released it. “Where do you want to start?” ::Rather, she wasn't sure whether she was ready for the worst one at the onset and so jokingly set the choice to him - the joking undertone of "where do you want to touch me?" unspoken but heavily implied in the question.

"Perhaps we shall start at th'beginning?" His hand came then to her side, where this all had indeed started. A slow, gentle sweep brought his touch from just above her hips upward, brushing lightly along the edge of her breast. "...and that reminds me, m'lovely. I did tell you m'price." The other hand touched a wing once again. "...yer story." There was a weight in his voice, one that spoke volumes. Perhaps this price was one he valued much more than the vast expenses he'd drawn from his clients in the past.

A more tell-tale shudder wracked through her at the next touch, and she tucked her wings tight against her back, stepping forward enough to turn and face him - she'd learned some of how to move with those wings so she wouldn't hit anyone! - and then stepped back in. A hand reached up for his neck to pull him down as she simultaneously rose on tiptoes to deliver a kiss. She kept this kiss soft, and short, but the need hadn't lessened. She had to force herself to keep it as innocent as it was. Kiss delivered, she stepped away, closing her eyes and drawing the wings into her back once more - it wouldn't do to lay on them. “Put me on there how you need me, and I'll tell you as you work.” It was a tempting invitation to touch her - tempting in that they may not get the work done. But honestly, she couldn’t resist.

"Y'tempt me so..." His arms closed around her, pressing their bodies together, and between soft kisses to the side of her neck, he could only whisper. "Y'know how much I want you..." His right arm, still covered by her wrapping, reached down to take her thigh, bringing it up and around him. "M'eyelids paint yer picture even when another screams my name."

She groaned softly. One leg wrapped around him, she shifted her hips to place her lower half pressed squarely - and so intimately - against his groin. “That could be dangerous, Vorn.” Jaycy spoke softly, not chiding but not quite teasing either. “I'm addictive.” That held a true hint of teasing, and she grinded into him. Her hands slid toward his hips, fingertips dipping beneath the hem of his brown pants and pressing into the flesh below. Then, she wiggled her hands in more, until the edge of the pants hooked in that space between thumb and index finger. Hands pushed down carefully to help remove his bottoms.

"Y'are, m'lovely." Without the slightest protest, he stepped easily out of his pants, and spun about to lay her down once again upon the mattress. This time, work was the furthest thing from his mind. Unclothed, he then returned that teasing grind, only slower and more intense, to let her feel every inch of what awaited her. He made no effort to penetrate... not yet. "...an' it's too late, I'm 'fraid. I've become quite addicted." The shine in his eyes was enough to attest to that, before they closed and his lips found the soft skin of her throat, moving slowly downward. Hips disengaging from her altogether, he dened himself that for now to demonstrate for her something else that was blessed with his alarming speed - his tongue. A living whirlwind, it flicked and teased and tasted as he made a trail toward her chest, the eventual destination becoming quite obvious, although he would most certainly stop along the way to work that magic upon her breasts... which his hands had already quite greedily taken.

Almost at her own breaking point, she didn't protest about "work" when she found him over her, grinding. The knowledge of what was waiting for her - both at that moment and so intimately before - was what caused the groan of frustration. She wanted him, and right then, and her hips tilted up, seeking what was so close a moment before. In his descent away, her hands came up and tangled in his hair, fingers clenching around the strands and tugging. Not painfully, but not far from. She dropped her head back, knees parting wide to give more space. Light shivers crawled up and down her spine at the sensations, and she squirmed beneath him. “Vorn, please...” It was something she'd said several times their first time when he'd denied her swift gratification. The 'please' wasn't quite begging, but if he didn't take her it would very soon end up being.

A whisper so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin followed, amidst the trail of kisses. "I'll not make you beg, love." His downward path continued, accelerating ever so slightly. "I've a gift for you... one I do not often share." The last came just before his head descended between her thighs.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

The sun's last rays were lost to the horizon as Vorn's arm cradled her gently against him, fingers entwined in her hair. The wrapped arm lay in the narrow space between them, stroking her cheek softly. "Mmm... y've stricken me, love. 's not often I come back t'th'same woman, y'know. Th'life isn't for me... perhaps it'll never be." Still, there was no denying he'd found something special here. It wasn't love, but it was a connection, or so he felt. She was one he'd never tire of, one he'd always welcome to his bed. "Y'make it damned hard t'concentrate on m'work, that's for sure..." A lopsided grin twisted his lips, and a fingertip lightly touched the tip of her nose. "...fortunately, th'dark is no impediment. Not t'me."

“Mmm.” She sighed, content, with those soft, tender touches. Her fingers played lightly over the skin of his shoulders, walking down his arms a few inches before trailing back up. “I can't lie and say you haven't captured my attention in a way few have.” ‘Few’ being limited to her partners, in fact. Perhaps it was exacerbated originally by the magic of Beltane, but there was no denying that whatever it was hadn't faded in the week since the holiday. "…'s not so often I've returned to the same lover so soon and still so hungry.” She smiled, tilting her head up a moment, just to kiss the fingertip that touched before it withdrew completely. “Does that mean you're ready enough to work, at least for a few moments?”

One last soft kiss was her answer at first, lasting just long enough to let her know his desire hadn't faded in the least. "I am, m'lovely." It was so slow, almost excruciatingly so, that Vorn extricated himself from her. His hands were in stark denial, protesting every inch further he moved away, taking in the skin of her back, then her sides, her chest, and finally her arms, keeping contact until his fingertips drifted over her own. "...beautiful." Along the way, his touch had served a purpose after all; he left her lying on her side, arm raised to expose the other for his first piece. Sinking into his chair, first he fished a cigarette from the pack upon the table and... somehow it was lit. The striking of a match could be heard, but the match itself was nowhere to be seen. "I'd advise ya t'try this, just this once, love. One smoke does not an addict make, after all... and it shall dull the pain quite well."

Another sigh slipped from her, but this was sadness at the loss of contact. Her hands had moved down with him, as long as they could, until he settled her into place. She used her arm to serve as a pillow even as the other draped over her head. Without looking, she shook her head very slightly. “I'll have to take the pain, love. Even just with your smoke I can feel there's something in it. If I take it, I won't be able to keep my shields intact and keep Psly and Kel from the pain. I need all my mind while we do this.” Regrettably.

"So yer link goes much further than I'd thought," he mused, and seemed lost in thought for a moment, the wheels of curiosity spinning in his head. "Did they feel... what y'just felt?" Pulling his chair closer, he sat right at the edge of the mattress, mere inches from the body he so thoroughly adored. Focus... A whirlwind of motion gathered his tools, and managed a swig of ale along the way. Three needles in each hand, he took a deep breath and whispered an incantation in a long-forgotten language. Before he began, however, he awaited her answer.

She shifted slightly, moving only to make her head more comfortable on the arm. “No, because I warned them before so that we could all shield from it. Sometimes it still isn't quite enough, but most of the time it is. If we weren't shielding, however, they'd feel it and get caught up in it.” She heaved a small sigh. “It's happened before.” The tone though indicated she wasn’t likely to explain that particular instance. It wouldn't be fair to Kel for her to tell this man. “Am I alright? Do I need to move over more?”

"If y'come much closer t'me, love... I won't be able t'keep my mouth from you." His grin then held a wicked edge, but he shook it off with a deep inhale from the cigarette held in the corner of his lips. "So, yer minds... are linked t'gether somehow?" As he spoke, the needles struck. Lightning fast, indeed, much faster than the gun could ever be, ink penetrated skin. His speech was low and soothing, with an almost hypnotic quality. Talk to me... think not of the pain, the thought seemed to carry through his words.

The chuckle turned into a gasp of surprise. She couldn't help it after the first strike of the needles, she flinched, her side shifting just an inch. After the first, though, she stiffened, fighting to keep still. She might have heard him, telling her to not think of the pain, or she might have thought of it on her own, but she answered his question. “Aye...” The speech was slower, more deliberate. “With Psly and I, it's more than minds. It started last year. I was lovers with this woman, Teagan, and she was highly ranked in the Duel of Swords. I was also having sex with Psly, too.” The words important, the meaning "casual fucking". “Teagan ... she was Overlord, the top rank in the Arena. Anubis...” Vorn remembered, likely, the story of the brand and Anubis's role in it. “… challenged her, to fight her for it. We thought he was going to try and enslave her too.”

[Jaycy Ashleana]

“So ... she asked me to ...” She tried not to sigh, knowing she needed to stay rigid. “… collar her for the match so that he wouldn't be able to. I did. In name only, supposedly, but it felt real. And I felt horrible. Especially when we were ... the action wasn't well-received. Gods. She called me Mistress.” That time she was unable to help the shudder, or keep the hurt from her voice.

The flinch was compensated for without the slightest misstep; even the strongest, most hardened of clients always flinched at first, and he was quite used to it. "I understand," Vorn shook his head sadly, his eyes swiveled to meet hers, heavy with empathy, as his fingers worked on. "I'd wish th'fate on no one... not even a stranger... much less a lover." Something in his gaze may as well have said that he considered her just that. One hand broke from the pattern, and the back of his fingers lightly brushed against her cheek. "I'm sorry, love." As three needles became six once again, the urge suddenly filled him to change the subject, to take her mind from an obviously dark place, but he resisted. It was her story, and he would not interfere with the telling.

Fingers in the hand over her head jerked slightly with the urge to reach out for him, an urge she managed to contain. It was obvious her wish, though, and her sentiments about him were the mirror of his - lover now. She let him see that for a moment, then closed her eyes. There was no relaxation of her side, however. “That's only mildly painful.” Luckily she was at least used enough to pain to not react overmuch to it. Finally, she sighed again, ready to continue. “After the match, after what everyone said ... I felt so bad. I felt it was all my fault. So ... I ran away to the woods, to a stream, and slit my wrists on my sword.” There was the explanation of two particularly long almost-not-there scars that went from wrist to almost her elbow. “I wanted to save her from me in the future.” That part she seemed able to tell without tears; in fact, without any real inflection or emotion. “Psly, though, he and another friend found me before I was gone.”

Vorn only nodded sadly, his eyes sliding to those scars that he'd touched, that he'd kissed. He was the most tender with those, having already suspected what her words had just confirmed for him. He'd seen that death before, he knew its marks. "Thank th'gods he did," that soothing voice caught ever so slightly, but he steeled himself, focusing on his work, and patiently listened.

“Mmm.” The sound was agreeable. She offered him a soft (though slight, and slightly pained) smile through the dark... perhaps noticing the hitch in his voice. She didn't comment, though, but continued her story. “Psly and Max, neither of them knew first aid or were traditional healers.” The slight smile grew distant, softer, not at him or anything in particular, but in the memory. She didn't need to tell of the creatures coming to scavenge her body that Max and the pack protected her from. “Psly, he's a shifter, an azure dragon. He thought to try and shift into me, to meld our flesh so he could return more blood to me, to replace what I'd lost.” A 'human' blood transfusion machine, in essence. “It ... well, it worked. But ... something happened.”

“While we were connected physically, our minds linked. We don't know or understand why. All we know is that we did ... so he and I, we're connected through mind and body. His blood still runs through me.” That was the first half of her tale; the bond with Psly. She paused, in case he had questions ... it was his price, after all. Perhaps there were details left out accidentally he wanted.

"...and with tha'blood, y'grew th'wings," he nodded softly. "...and therefore, th'dragon." One of the three, he silently noted. "Y've had quite a life, m'lovely. I've seen many things in m'days, but yer a rare one even in th'dozens o'worlds I've traveled." His every word was spoken carefully, with a measure of compassion he spared for very few. "Perhaps now y'understand my price... I've never encountered something quite so special." His fingers worked diligently; if she had looked, his progress would have been quite impressive. The lower body of the tiger was already complete, fully colored and incredibly detailed. It almost looked alive.

“Ah, no...” She gently clarified. “I didn't automatically get the wings from that night, love.” A pause and weak chuckle before she continued. “But aye, he is my dragon, and why it...” … the tattooed representation of him … “should be azure.” She didn't look because she wasn’t going to move without his permission! This may have been her first, but when we're discussing needles inserted in the body it was likely wise not to move. Silence for several moments, though there was a flinch as he struck a particularly sensitive spot. “Ugh.” She grunted softly. “I understand your price, as a listener, a storyteller. I seek out the good stories. And the good people, who I believe are likely to have those good stories.”

[Jaycy Ashleana]

That brought a smile from him, although there was some regret in it. "If only I had some of m'own t'tell... but that's a story all t'itself... and one for another time." One day, I will open to you as you have to me, was the promise his eyes conveyed. "What about this one? Th'predator... th'stalker. I know y've got claws, when y'so desire... or when y'want to bend my will..." The last with a smirk, remembering when those claws would spur him from his teasing to give her what she wanted.

“I have trouble believing any cousin of Lilli, any cousin who's wiggled into her clan's heart enough to be adopted, doesn't have a story.” That time she didn't restrain herself, but reached out with the free-moving hand toward his cheek, brushing the backs of her fingers lightly down it. She was careful to move slow, to avoid stretching her side while he worked. She only touched him a moment, then pulled her arm back to its original resting position. Another of those pained but gentle smiles. “That, is me.” Of course. “But to tell that requires the snake, first.”

“There was a woman. She apparently wanted to kill either me, or both Psly and I. I'm not sure. She sought to get close to us by becoming Teagan's lover. Unfortunately, this was after Teagan and I had parted ways ...” A sigh. “… because of Psly. Because we fell in love.” There formed a tiny, wry grin. “You can't spend so much time in the head of another person, knowing their thoughts and memories, and not fall in love where there aren't any more secrets. Teagan loved me, but I didn't her.” That was something she didn’t want to repeat ... thus the reason behind earlier comments. “So this woman ... she had more trouble. But eventually she started becoming friends with us. She needed somewhere to stay, so Psly offered his house. We were staying at Seaside's Manor at the time.” What that meant, honestly, wasn't important to the story. She paused again, allowing him the chance to speak if he wanted clarification.

Vorn's hands still worked steadily, a slight smile gracing his lips with her touch, and the mention of Lilli and the clan. Through it all, he kept his silence, although an eyebrow quirked at the twist of events. It seemed he would work perfectly without his eyes altogether, as they'd not left hers for quite some time. It was not until her pause that curiosity got the better of him, and he was compelled to ask, "...this woman, what is her name?"

Her tone turned wry. “Kelathe, or Kel.” It was the very name she'd given earlier as being one of her partners. The mention of the name was likely to hint at where the story was likely to go next, too. The grin on his face could be taken a multitude of ways, but he'd leave that for her to interpret. "Another o'yer lovers, mm?"

"Tell me about her... she's next, after all..." he winked, and sent a meaningful glance to her thigh. Of course, he'd not put her through another session tonight... and he looked forward to doing this again.

Jaycy laughed shortly - that is, she laughed until she realized that was moving her side and so she forced herself to stop. “Aye, once, but no.” She continued the story, to explain that ... and since he asked. “Unaware of her intentions, I brought her groceries one morning ... Psly had no food in the house.” She grinned at him a moment but didn't say something disparaging about the male sex even if she was thinking it. “She went into the bathroom, and there was a crash, and she was fighting herself after breaking the mirror. It turned out she was possessed by a demon. Then, another sigh as the story turned unsettling once more. “Psly and I ... we ... well, we psychically fought this demon, to help lock it away within her.”

"You fought a demon?" Clearly impressed, his eyes urged her to go on.

She nodded faintly, cheek rubbing against her arm-pillow. “I have no psychic abilities myself, beyond the links. But in that ... fight ... within her... I was embodied by a tiger at the end. And we saved her, we locked away that demon. It was mostly Psly's work, and her own. But .... she linked with us, through it. And when we came to, out of our minds and into ourselves ... I was afraid. Afraid of what'd happened, what'd we'd done, that she'd joined us. This woman who tried to kill us.” A breath was taken in, held, then slowly released. “ I ... was so afraid I'd shifted.” She paused, but then shook her head a little. “… not into the dragon. Into the tiger.”

An eyebrow quirked once again at that. "So... it was something within you... all along?" The image, meanwhile, was nearing completion. From the top of her hip he had worked, and was at the head, just a sparse inch or two from the edge of her breast, which the flurry of motion from his hands occasionally brushed against. Vorn gave no indication at all whether or not it was intentional, but knowing him, it wouldn't be hard to hazard a guess.

“I guess so.” She answered, after thinking a moment. “Something triggered that night; it'd never happened or gave hints of happening before then.” She lifted her head a little but then dropped it just as suddenly, not wanting to shift her side too much in the work. And amazingly, she seemed to not react to the touches. Either the pain was enough to distract her, or the story, or she actually had some ability at ignoring the intoxicating sensations when she had to. The small woman gave the impression of a shrug in her shoulder without actually moving it too much. “The dragon came at anger. It seemed the strong emotions triggered the shifting, until I learned to control it.” She finished the story, even though the end words might have been superfluous. “Kel, she is the snake.”

[Jaycy Ashleana]

"You make it sound as she's part o'th'past, not o'th'present..." Curiosity guided his words once again. "Why?"

“As partners, she is very much the present. As lovers, she is past, and future. Our lives, we all measure in eons. Psly and I are mated.” The second tale he asked for, of course, was likely to express the true meaning of the word and why. He saved her, she carried his blood to that day, she was his. “She is in love with Neo, a human, and in a relationship with him. Neo does not agree with Kel having other bedpartners, so for the time they are together, we are not. Eventually, if and when the time is right, she will be with us.” The three of them did love each other and were intimate and she knew they likely would be again someday.

"...I couldn' imagine such a complicated life, m'lovely." It was clearly beyond his scope, he was one who lived each day for itself, and without knowing his blood or even his true age, had no idea how many he even had left. He had conjecture, pieced together from the lives of others and what he'd been able to learn in his childhood that hadn't been obliterated by the drugs and the trauma. "Is there truly a place for me in your world?" It was a sincere enough question, although his expression was an impenetrable mask as he spoke it.

“Are you finished?” She asked, instead of answering his question. She referred to the work of art on her side. "Not quite," a slight smile emerged, a slight crack in the mask. "Have I hit a nerve?"

“No.” If it was a lie, it was convincing. “I want to take your hand. So please finish, swiftly.”

One hand broke away from the pattern to switch needles, and once it resumed the task, the other did the same. All that remained was the outline, the sealing. This was the enchanted ink which would bind with the rest and form the bond that would make the work eternal. "I must finish the most important part, love." In the meantime, his eyes studied her. He'd never been the sharpest knife in the drawer; that much was well enough known from one who'd just met him to his cousins of the caravan, but his empathy and intuition often bordered the supernatural. He'd more than once been accused of reading minds.

She closed her eyes, giving that faint nod with the sigh. “I’ll answer you when you’re done,” she promised quietly.

"Brace yourself," he warned, and gave her a moment to do so before the final seal was laid down with deeper driving of each needle in turn, six in all. Then they were gone from his hands as if they'd never been there at all.

“Ugh!” A grunt escaped, the entirety of her body clenching tightly a moment after the warning to brace. Her hands curld, balling into fists - balling enough until fingernails (not claws, though) dug into her palm and fell just short of drawing blood. She took another breath in, releasing it only after several moments, forcing her body to calm itself. He’d warned her but she still wasn’t prepared; finally she muttered, “Is that going to hurt more in other places?”

Vorn nodded softly, regrettably. "Your spine in particular." He then produced a small bottle of clear liquid, pouring it freely over the bleeding tattoo, and with the blood it would also wash away much of the pain. "You may move now, love. It is done, sealed, and... if I say so myself, one of my greatest works." Strangest of all, his accent was nearly gone for that moment, as if he were speaking with a voice from his past, before the words of dozens of worlds had their effect on his speech.

She resisted the urge to look; there was something a little more important on her mind. She didn't move much, in fact, except to reach for his hand. “I'm sure it is. Please?” She wiggled her fingers slightly in an additional silent request for the contact.

Snapped from the strange flashback, the mask cracked once more, and he smiled again, offering his hand. "O'course, m'lovely." Even as he awaited her response, something in his eyes said he already knew the answer to his question, and he only wanted to hear it from her voice.

She slid her hand into his, turning it until his fingers faced up, his palm facing her. Then she pressed her palm against it, twining her fingers with his. “Even so swiftly, Vorn Garridan, I can't imagine a world without you in it in some way.” The words were soft, but there was a simple sincerity with them. “If you think you don't have a place in it, I will do what I can to make you know there is. I may not be able to do everything…” She conceded, honestly. “…but I don't want to lose you now that I know you.”

[Jaycy Ashleana]

Wide eyes stared in silence for the longest time. It was quite possibly the furthest thing imaginable from what he'd expected. Not even any amongst his newfound family had struck a nerve this deep within him... by the stark shock on his face, perhaps none ever had in his life. "...I've... no words." His head turned downward sharply to avert his eyes. He could not let her see him blinking back tears.

Slowly she sat up, attempting to pull her hand from his. He refused to allow the break in contact immediately and she didn't fight it. Unfortunately, in that moment the movement of the animal now emblazoned on her side to keep in proportion was lost - she still hadn't looked at it in the seriousness of this conversation. “I hope that's not a bad thing.” She returned softly; even this woman had moments of uncertainty.

Vorn's head was still spinning, but dry, renewed eyes rose to meet hers as he held tightly to her hand now with both of his. "Far from it, love." That hand he brought up to his lips to kiss before he released her. A cigarette was lit instantly, and he was already breathing smoke by the time the words came. "...y'just spun my world around for a moment." Clearing his throat, he gestured toward a full-length mirror against the wall. "Y'should look. I believe y'll be quite pleased."

In the moment before her hand was released, there was a squeeze to his, after that kiss. Then, she slowly slid off the mattress even as she responded. “Vorn, even if we never make love again, even if we don't see each other again, I will always consider you a friend.” Mayhap even more than friend. “If you ever need me - need anything - I'll be there.” Two thoughts ran through her head, neither of which seemed to be hinted at in what she did say ... not like his unspoken warning against tormenting him again the night of the ball. She was offering him a great deal of trust and she was content to give it, but if he betrayed her, he would pay. She also fervently hoped that he would never need to know firsthand the true extent of the assistance she would give anyone she considered under her protective “umbrella.”

Slowly she moved toward the mirror, careful to keep her gaze on her face until close enough. Then she turned and allowed herself to look down. A stunned gasp came, her hand lifting to cover her mouth. “Oh, gods!” She spun toward him; it was her turn to show him a truly shocked face. “Oh, Vorn. It's amazing.” He was able to see the shine of tears at the corners of her eyes; she wouldn't look away and hide the depth of what she felt at seeing it.

"I certainly hope that's not th'case, in either event," referring, of course, to their never meeting or making love again. "...an' that smile, those eyes... that's why I did this. Just to see them."

"...that was th'price. The story was just t'get t'know you." His own eyes lingered on the body before him - she was still quite naked, after all - and the expression that he could do nothing but treasure. Smoke slowly poured from his lips in silence.

Swiftly she stepped forward, to him. Her arms raised, hands extending and reaching for him even as she walked his way. She was still very naked, except for the art he so lovingly created on her as a living canvas, of course, and unconscious of her nudity. “In that case, you'll owe me a story for the next one.” It seemed she had recovered enough to manage a quip in reply.

"Do I now?" Slowly he stood, taking those hands and drawing her body close. He hadn't bothered to dress either. "Perhaps I shall give y'one."

“Mayhaps?” A brow slowly lifted in question; was that a challenge to draw one out the next time, she silently asked. "I've a few, although none like what y've told me," he shook his head slightly. "Just a short life o'travels, o'knives and fire, dance and song, and..." Eyes darkening for a moment, he hesitated, but would finish the thought. "...a past that I wish I could forget."

“Mayhap that past might be best forgotten, or gotten past, if you let it out with someone.” She slid arms around him in a loose embrace. Close, bodies touching, but not pressing. “With Lilli, or someone you trust and is willing to listen.” She wasn't suggesting herself - despite her words earlier they still were early in their friendship and she didn't expect that level of trust. That, she knew, would have to be earned.

"One day, just so." He smiled then, and ever so slightly closed the distance between them, seeking the kiss he'd direly wanted back ever since it was broken to begin his work.

She stood up on tiptoes again, aiming to meet him halfway. Unlike the earlier fire, this was warmth, gentleness, support. There was no denying the want, but it was a kiss that told him what the words had said earlier. However, it still was a short kiss and she dropped back down onto the floor. She didn't move away, though. “May I stay with you, tonight?”

"I'd love nothing more." If she hadn't asked, he would have, although the mere fact that she did it herself flicked on the light in his eyes like a switch.


(( Adapted from live play, 5/10/10. ))

[Jaycy Ashleana]

A Surprise Visit – Interlude

Her second approach to the studio was much more stealthy than the evening before. There was no loud revving from the motorcycle; no beats of wings as a beast landed. No, she came quietly, walking down the street. She wore the ensemble so normal - jeans, t-shirt and jacket - though the pants and shirt were of a stark black. She affected a lazy stroll, seeking to appear to all the world as if she belonged there. Upon reaching the outer door to his studio, she paused, turning to face it and peer upward curiously. She truly didn't expect him to be there; it was still early and even though they'd slept here the night previous the building lacked any sense of "living space," which meant he was less likely to spend a significant amount of time here. Quietly she pulled open the door and slipped up the stairs, booted feet silent. Last night she'd taken pains to note where the creaks were and took care to avoid them. Finally at the landing, she paused at the inner door, listening within for sounds.

Clinking, splashing, and the occasional whisper could be heard by an astute enough ear, Vorn was preparing the inks and vials for the next session, drinking all the while from a rather oversized bottle of Black Tar. Some of the mutterings would carry just enough... "...inner thigh... lookin' 'tween 'er legs all night... I better get goddamn stoned..."

Ah, those mutterings brought a grin to split across her face even as she inwardly cursed his presence. Half-elf heritage along with enhanced animal senses were enough to make such an astute ear and it didn't require an astute mind for her to piece together the object of his mutterings. She allowed the faintest of frustrated sighs to escape; her mission wouldn't be as easy as she hoped. At least for the moment. Finally, schooling her features into an innocent - at least innocent of what she'd meant to do - smile, she lifted her loosely balled hand and rapped on the door three times.

"'s'open, love." He couldn't move just yet, the mixing wasn't complete, and the slightest mistake could ruin the entire lot. Of course, he knew who'd arrived, no one else knew of this place, not even the caravan.

She took hold of the knob and turned, pushing inward after a moment. Through the space as soon as she could fit, she turned to close the door again behind her. "I'm glad I caught you." She smiled, not yet moving forward but rather looking around, seemingly casually.

"I'm always glad when y'catch me, m'lovely." Still mixing, his hands were an utter blur across the fifty vials on the table before him. Occasionally one fired off to catch his cigarette and dump the ashes into an empty bottle. "Yer early... or are y'just here t'see me?" Of course, he hoped for the second, that meant one more time he'd get to see her, and it showed in the tone of his voice.

"Just here to see you," she answered as the smile grew wider and her green-gold gaze drew back toward the table - and him. "I couldn't stay away." The easiest way to lie was to color it with truth, and so she did. She took a step forward. "Of course, I don't want to interrupt." She indicated the vials on the table with a sweeping wave of her hand. "Should I come back, or can I help in some way?"

"Y'never interrupt me, love." It was almost complete, only another minute or so and he would be finished. "An' y'wouldn't leave me all by m'lonesome right after puttin' yer pretty self in m'eyes again, would'ya?" A slight pout took his features, perhaps not entirely feigned.

"Never, hrm? Not even if I found you making another woman cry out your name?" Her lips quirked, twitched, and she offered him a lopsided grin. "If I didn't join in, I mean." She took another step, but still tried to remain out of range of the table. She didn't want to accidentally bump into it when she was focused on him - indeed, with the conversation she'd stopped her perusal of the studio. Her hands slid carefully into the back pockets of her black jeans, fingers twitching with the need to touch him but knowing that to do so would destroy his work. "I'd only leave if my being here would be too distracting for you."

"Y'can't distract me, m'lovely. I been doin' this for a looooong time." A quiet smile crept over his face as he watched her, it seemed this task, as the tattoos themselves, didn't require his eyes, so well rehearsed they were. "Almost..." Then a whisper followed, much like the one after he'd finished her tiger, in the language of another world. "...an' that's that." Suddenly he was within inches of her, but his speed slowed for the final approach, a slight lean downward for a kiss that had become by far his favorite greeting.

She was getting used to his speed and slid her right foot back, just a few inches, in preparation of his approach. That backslid foot gave her balance too when she leaned up to meet him halfway in the greeting. However, her hands stayed settled in the jeans pockets and she pulled back after allowing only a light peck. She was on a mission, after all, even if he didn't know it. Instead, she peered up at him and the lopsided, impish grin returned. "I would join in, y'know, likely." No, of course she wasn't trying to distract him by turning his thoughts toward daydreams of them in various states of undress!

[Jaycy Ashleana]

"I'd not sully a bed with someone else if y'were in it with me." His expression at her retreat, as well as her words, seemed to have stung a bit. "I may not be a one woman man, but I do have taste, love."

"Ah, love. I don't say that you don't have taste." She shook her head, sobering a moment. Distraction she'd meant, but not unhappiness. "I was really just teasing, and my comments weren't a reflection on my thoughts for you." Only then did she remove a hand from the back pocket and reach for him. However, it was to the forearm that she made her motion; a spot that likely wouldn't be construed as sexual. Such a motion may well insult him more, and she had no wish to do that. "I'm often teasing, or playful in what I say ... not as serious." New-friends, they still didn't know each other well enough, she knew. "I'm sorry."

The hand was gently taken to his lips, as his familiar smile returned. "Never be." Her mannerisms had him somewhat confused, however, and it showed. Lust was etched in his memory as a symbol carved in stone at the sight of her; it was, after all, what brought them together, at least at first. This... distance... was something new, and his simplicity of mind and purpose was clearly becoming a handicap. "Y'seem... different. Somethin' troublin' ya?"

"Troubling? No." She chuckled. "I'm just afraid to touch you because I won't stay with you again tonight." She paused, then continued. "Yet I came because I couldn't resist. There's the paradox and I'm not sure how to handle that or what it means." That, at least, was very true. "I want to get to know you better, I guess. Outside of bed." She'd meant it when she said she couldn't imagine a world without him; and she sought the action to fit those words.

For a moment, he simply gazed into her eyes, seemingly weighing every word. "Y'tease me so, love... y'know I can't keep m'damn hands off you..." But somehow, he did. "...I don't speak o'm'self much... but y'know that." It was clear he was still conflicted, trying to somehow puzzle out her intentions. "...but 'sonly fair, as y'told me yer life's story an' I've told y'so little. What would y'like t'know?"

Suddenly the couch that was pushed against the wall was dragged out, and he took a seat. It was a small one, there was just enough room for the two, but it wouldn't be without touching, at least a little. The case of Black Tar was there as well, and he offered one up to her with a smile.

"Well, first, I suppose ..." She tilted her head, just slightly, as she gazed down at him. Silently she waved off the offer, but gave a smile of thanks at the thought. "Is it possible for me to sit in your lap without you keeping me all night?" In that was an admission that if she sat with him, or more accurately on him, she knew they would end up being intimate once more. The real question was could he let her go afterward.

"Wouldn't be th'first time, love. I'd only hope y'd not be so cruel as t'leave me burning in the blood when y'go." The answer was truly that simple; I can let go, just don't start a game you won't finish.

He'd said it himself - he didn't normally return to women so often, and he'd claimed to be addicted already. She'd taken his words at face value, truly, and so she'd felt she had to ask. A sigh escaped, and a light shake of her head. "No, love. Not tonight." There would be other nights for that. She shrugged out of the jacket and leaned forward, tugging off her low boots. Jean and t-shirt clad, she closed the space between them and sunk down onto his lap, sideways. For a moment she laid her head on his shoulder, then tilted forward to press the lightest of kisses on his jawline. "Tell me about the bracelet, and this." She pointed lightly at the tooth around his neck, then dropped her hand onto his chest.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

His eyes closed for a moment; in a way, this anticipation was torture all unto itself. An arm curled around her back as he spoke. "This," taking the tooth in his hand and giving it a soft rub before his hand settled on her thigh, "is th'fang of a displacer. A few years after I escaped th'circus, I met a tribe o'nomads. I was an outlander. Skuth. They took t'me though... not 'nough t'take me in, o'course, but I spent some months with them. There was a ritual they performed, an' they let me in on it. One enters th'chamber, an' finds th'beast o'their soul inside it."

"...usually it doesn't end like it did with me. I hadn't reached th'peace, th'zenai. M'mind was still fucked from th'years in th'cage, an' th'holes in my memory. I was at war with m'self, they said." His gaze was far away, the images painting themselves on the walls before him as if it were yesterday. "Th'displacer is a huge cat, with huge claws an' tent'cles. It moves like I do. It's here, then it's not. I didn't join with it like th'ceremony's s'posed t'go. It came at me, from ev'ry direction... but only once did it touch me."

She'd most likely have long since noticed the scar on the back of his right shoulder. Claw marks, a perfect line of three, but covered with tattoos and as thin as the marks were, it may not have been so easily apparent to anything but her touch. "...I came out w'this, an' they cast me out."

She remained quiet in the telling of the tale, allowing it to spill as it would from him. Through it, however, she lightly kneaded his chest under her hand; non-clawed fingertips pressing and then relaxing against him. She meant the gesture as one of comfort; this was no happy tale. So too were details enclosed in the story that she intended to ask him about, but that would be for another time. Her other hand reached up, over his shoulder, to allow her to run her fingers lightly through his black strands. "Oh, Vorn," she breathed softly at its conclusion. She did not, however, apologize for what had happened - while she felt sorrow for him, it didn't seem to be something he'd need or mayhap even want. Comfort, companionship, yes. Pity, no. She leaned forward, to brush another kiss, this time over his cheek, a soft wisp of a thing.

The hand on her thigh slid upward, in a strangely chaste gesture. Of course, its path brought his fingers close to her more delicate places, but did not stray to touch them. Instead, a simple line was drawn up through the center of her chest, along the side of her neck, coming to rest on her cheek. Soft strokes of his thumb caressed the skin as fingertips threaded through her hair. "It's th'past now... and I found m'way. Such as it's always been."

"Mmm." It was a sound of both content pleasure at the contact and one indicating agreement with his words and she tilted her cheek toward his thumb. "That doesn't mean you couldn't use the comfort of a hug in the retelling. We can't change the past, no, and we need to find ways to survive, but it can be all the better shared with someone rather than kept inside, aye?" The hand on his chest slid up, toward the hollow of his throat. She stroked there gently for a brief moment, then continued her path toward the farther side of his neck.

A slow nod, careful not to break from her touch. It was something he'd come to treasure. "Just so, love." Caught in the tender moment, it would take some time for him to start into the second of the stories she'd asked for.

"Th'bone... that's from a sirraschlai. 's'a big fuckin' snake. That's th'smallest bone it's got. Damn thing nearly killed me when I was escapin'. I was runnin', an' y'seen me run. It caught me 'bout th'leg, an' it's one o'those that wrap 'round an' crush ya. Snapped both th'bones in my leg. If not for th'healin' lady that found me, I'd've bled t'death intern'lly. Sh'said th'bones were damn near dust... an' neither of us for our lives coulda told how I managed t'kill th'fuckin' thing. I don't remember, I just remember th'bone I'd ripped out sittin' on m'wrist when I woke up."

She couldn't help it; she flinched slightly at the telling of the bracelet's origin. "Oh, gods, I'm so glad she found you." Her breath didn't quite hitch as his did last night but the words were said with a fervent sincerity. "Are they both reminders to you, to survive?"

"Just so," he nodded. "Until th'caravan, I'd always been alone, love." Despite his distant stare, his touch became a little more intense, as if to let her know it wasn't just the caravan anymore. "Always. I never had a home, a family, an' when people see what I am, what I can do, they tend t'think only o'what they can use me for."

"...or just run like th'dogs o'th'nine are after 'em from th'freak."

With a soft sigh, he continued. "I don't even know what I am. I don't know how many years I've seen, I don't know why I can do what I do. Maybe I never will. I just knew I had t'survive... and for th'longest time, that's all I did."

His intensity was mirrored in her own touch, both in response to his and to the words he spoke. As he didn't need to say out loud that it wasn't the caravan, her hands, her eyes, repeated what she had said on the table. She remained quiet for several minutes, stroking, petting, then she finally murmured. "I know what you are, Vorn. You're a Garridan, beloved by the clan and your cousins. You're the most amazing tattoo artist I've ever known. You're easy to talk to, to get along with." Her lips quirked up fleetingly. "You're an incredible lover." She couldn't not say that; partly because it wasn't in her to be serious for the longest time and partly because it was simple truth and an aspect to him.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

That gave him quite the snicker, and a slight shake of his head. "Takes two t'dance, no matter th'steps, love." If there was anything special about him in that regard, it was only the simple fact that he was a giver above all else. "...an' it wouldn't be quite th'same dance if I couldn't make y'sing."

She smiled and lifted her hand from his neck to his cheek, turning his face toward hers with a gentle push. Then, she'd deliver a kiss. A warm, tender kiss - one not quite meant to invoke need for her just yet. "All of those things you are, and I like all of them."

Vorn could almost see himself melting into a puddle on the couch, and imagine her trying to clean it up before it sank through the cracks in the old rickety floor. "Y'have a way with words I'll never have, Jaycy. I wish I did... I have little that would do y'justice."

"You have precisely what I want from you. Now hush, and kiss me again." Rather than wait for him to comply, however, she leaned in to deliver another kiss. That kiss, though, contained more heat than all its predecessors that evening. She kept it short, though, allowing him the chance to continue their previous topics rather than move to something more ... physical. Apparently, she had decided to let him lead.

"Mmm..." a soft rumble, little more, from his throat followed that kiss, and damn his hands, they truly did have a mind of their own. The arm that cradled her still held, but the other began to roam, and as it slid under her shirt, he was quite pleasantly reminded, mentally and physically, of that steamy night in the Inn. The first place it went was the outline of the tiger on her side, tracing over his handiwork blindly; he would never need his eyes to find it, to know its exact detail. As much as he wanted her body, there was a pang of curiosity that was, for now, more urgent. "Y'asked me o'things, love... important they are, but... in the end, things. Why?"

"Mmm." She squirmed lightly under his ministrations, her mind momentarily flickering back to that night as well. There was something indefinable about how having him trace his own work on her body so lovingly, so intimately made her feel. She sought to bring herself closer to him, almost as if she were trying to melt into him. Her own hand glided down to his chest once more, finally, fingertips tapping outlines over the various tattoos. She had to look, of course, and lowered her head onto his shoulder, cheek against his bare skin. "Mmm. Because they were important to you, specifically. In learning about them, I learn about you." She didn't necessarily elaborate further on that. "Everything we choose to surround ourselves with has a personal meaning."

The answer almost visibly turned the wheels in his head, and he nodded slowly. "I'll be an open book t'you, love." It was something he'd decided the moment the first needle struck, as she'd told him her story. "An' y'may turn th'pages as y'wish." Even through the somber speech, however, his hands refused to behave themselves, one in front and one behind gently pulling up her shirt.

Her breath hitched for a moment. His touch seemed scalding, especially when compared to the cooler air that touched her stomach with her shirt lifting. "If you mean it, I mean to take advantage of that," she finally said. Of course, that would mean they would need to be together often, so she could read this 'book' of himself that he was offering. She leaned forward just so, to make removal of the shirt easier. Her palm pressed flat against his circular tattoo, her other arm curled very loosely behind his neck. "I offer you the same, as well." What was good for her was good for him, and after his lack of judgment at those things she'd already told him she hoped he wouldn't condemn future admissions. If he did ... she'd cross that bridge when she had to.

"I s'pose it'd be a bad time t'tell ya... I can't read, love." A bizarre truth; while Vorn spoke at least twenty languages fluently, and a dozen more well enough to carry him through, letters had never made much sense, and the last thing his captors in his youth wanted was an educated slave. "...but if y'paint me a picture, I'll do m'best t'admire it." As he spoke, he toyed with the wrapping around her chest, this time he was in no rush to remove it - quite the contrary.

"Sometimes the reading only takes the heart, m'lovely." Her brow quirked and a sudden smile played on her lips as she intentionally used one of the ways he addressed her. She stole another kiss, fingers at his neck wriggling through his hair while her other hand dropped from the worship of his tattoo toward his side. At his side, fingertips tapped a light rhythm, a song silently running through only her head, likely. "I'll answer anything you ask, honestly." A dual-edged gift that was, of course.

Little by little, the wrapping was disappearing from her chest, winding itself around his arm... the one that didn't already bear one. "I'll have t'be very careful what I ask for then, shall I?" A playful grin would hopefully convey that it was much more jest than barb, then he stole back the kiss, but with the fire she'd have certainly come to know by now. I want you... I need you.

She caught the grin only because her gaze had dropped to his lips ... his lips that were suddenly there, on hers. That more than the unwinding of the supportive band made her moan, and press forward to demand more of it, of him, and not let him break that kiss. She didn't care if it impeded the unwrapping process; she was quickly taking that need in, amplifying her reaction. While not an empath, she was by necessity of her work sensitive to others - especially when in such close contact. Heedless of the trouble, she shifted her position without breaking the kiss, easing her lower half off his lap enough so she could straddle him more properly.

Bending and arcing, Vorn would damn well hold that kiss, and help her in straddling him. His speed could no longer be denied; the wrapping came off in the blink of an eye, and now each arm wore one. Other than to clean them from time to time, he would never take them off. Desire blacked out all else, and while he may sleep alone this night, he was determined to give them both something to dream about, no matter the distance.


(( Adapted from live play, 5/12/10. ))