How the Night Ends {Venser}

by **Bonnibell Carson** on February 13th, 2014, 5:13 am

Date: 82nd of Winter, 513AV
Location: Streets of Ravok
Time: Evening

Being intoxicated had a way of petching up the senses. A person with enough mead in their system could be invulnerable in their mind. Physical, mental, emotional. They can become something new. Something strange. Sometimes something dangerous. Bonnie was usually something strange. She found everything fascinating. This is made most apparent as she walked out of the Silver, Silver Tavern. Faces were made at no one. She pointed in delight at every star. She waved merrily to the canal. Then she would begin to skip. Which was a sad thing for the excellent part about drunks is that they tended to band together. Bonnie was alone. They also customarily stayed in one spot. As if to save the rest of the world from their absurdity.

Bonnie had left her chosen area. The young woman was properly intoxicated. She had chosen to inflict her intoxication upon the world and its inhabitants. A lightweight who drank for fun, she had little tolerance for anything. She swayed along the solid streets. The smart thing for any drunk to do is go home. Bonnie, however, was not a smart drunk. Neither could she remember where she had misplaced her house. Therefore, rather than doing the sensible thing and heading home the young woman sought to be drunk and have a properly warmed bed. The crux of the matter being she did not have her own bed. So, Bonnie watched her feet scrabbled for proper footing. She marveled at her painless knee. Stomped, even. She would regret it in the morning. And as she watched her feet would ultimately lead her to the Immortal Pleasures.

She swayed on her feet. She thought she spotted the familiar battered door. But before Bonnie could be sure she spotted something more interesting. Someone to be precise. That someone was blonde, tallish, an attractive. Although, in her current state everyone was attractive. The battered door even might look enticing if she stared long enough. Bonnie lurked forward. Unused to not feeling her limp, her arms wind milled. She attached herself to the nearest wall. Her lips stretched wide across her teeth. They winked in the evening light. When the ground stopped pretending to move Bonnie attempted to saunter toward the blonde. She reached out a hand to trail down his arm. She nearly face-planted.

“Are you with them?” Her head jerked to the House of Immortal Pleasures, “Or are you freelance?”

Bonnie would later realize that it was a good thing she remembered very, very little of her drunken escapades.

OOCUm. So. Bonnie just called him a prostitute. I dunno. She’s drunk >.>

by **Venser Rush** on February 13th, 2014, 6:16 am

The world was held in a vibrant light this evening, the Rush twin's efforts this day focused on the movement of djed rather than its application in the medium of the discipline that was the Flux. Days of continuous use and exertion was by no means good for the body, and he required time of rest. Still, the movement of Djed provided its own rush, all the same. He had been at the docks, facing the waters of Lake Ravok in order to draw his inspiration to simply relax.

You deserve a reprieve, Venser. Weakness, while debilitating to pride, is no excuse to pursue a self-destructive course. That happens regardless. No reason to hasten it senselessly. No, tonight was his break from it all, a simple exercise involving the movement of djed rather than its forced application into the body and subsequent over-stressing of the limbs. The perfect way to set off such a mild study was to drink the night away. Or... perhaps the Night of Immortal Pleasures offered him something of interest.

Desire. The pursuit of magical ability was one of them. One of what he considered the celestial desires that he had, but... desire was in all walks of life. The desire to break the chains that bound him, the desire to better himself. The noblest of pursuits. But, there was also the desire to escape. The desire to feel. Magic also satisfied this, but there was always a far... baser solution to the problem. The desire found him sub-consciously directing his body towards the House of Immortal Pleasures, a small shake of his body reminding him of the small number of mizas in his coat pocket. Would he actually have the gall to do such a thing? Maybe, but first, a drink was required.

Perhaps a vat of wine would swill his thoughts to the extent that the desires did not frustrate him to such an extent, or perhaps they would be satisfied. To know it was impossible but--

A woman ambled towards him, almost falling flat on her face in front of him, but her words were the most surprising thing of all. Venser's jaw had almost dropped at the suggestion, and it would have had the woman not touched him. It was a soft, trailing touch that evoked sensation from him that he understood all too well, the familiar embrace of night's alluring call known. He was by no means experienced at the call of seduction, the act rather foreign to him, in fact, and he remembered nothing from the spirit-induced haze of exhibition. But, this sensation was familiar.

The woman's breath then licked at his senses, the force of the alcohol she had ingested strong in his lungs, even spilling in to his mouth and tasted. It made him desire the drink all the more. The freedom the woman before him was experiencing, both known and unknown to the Rush twin, was enticing.

He decided to go along with her question, the twin managing a bright smile as he raised his other arm, a delicate touch placing his fingers to her cheek as he replied, "Freelance, love. Are you looking for a good time?" He tried his utmost to emulate what his perception of a prostitute was, if only to entertain himself, for the moment. Whether or not this was a hoax was to be seen, but regardless, the House was in front of him.

by **Bonnibell Carson** on February 13th, 2014, 7:05 am

Alcohol is a funny thing. Where it can dull pain, it can also heighten pleasure. So when the blonde spoke, the young woman swayed. To her muddled ears his voice was divine. When his hand touched her cheek she leaned in eagerly. Her own fingers curled up hold them there. It was such a simple gesture. There was almost a sweetness to it that Bonnie would not notice. Her only noteworthy sensation was that of a more provocative nature. From where their hands now lay joined on her cheek, she rubbed against it like a cat. Bonnie could feel the burn of mortification dulled by pleasure start from her cheeks. Down, down it crept along her face; there it left a left a pleased smile. Farther still it moved along her neck; there it heated her. And just a little ways more it settled; there it curled around the base of her spine, a pleasant sensation that promised each touch would make her feel more.

Through all this Bonnie forgot she should answer the blondes question. So it was for a chime that she stood, relishing in the simple touch. This close, she noted he was taller. She gazed up at him. She even tried to look up through her lashes, a trick she’d seen some preform. In her current state it made her go cross eyed. She stopped. She simply looked up. Still she forgot to speak for another tick. Blue eyes. Blue and green go together. The young woman thought with all the eloquence of a five year old.

Bonnie lowered the hand on her cheek. It took a moment of concentration, her brow pushed together. Cautiously, slowly she wrapped it around her waist. She moved herself forward to close the space between them. Her hands came up to his shoulders. Then she smiled what she hoped was a seductive smile. Though some could argue it looked more sleepy than seductive. “Yes. A very, very good time.” She eventually remembered to gasp out. It was nice to feel the heat from another’s body. Unfortunately, her mind chose that tick to remind her of one tiny detail she’d forgotten. Bonnie moaned despairingly, “But I can’t find my house.”

The young woman thought of another detail. “But you must have a house,” Bonnie leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the blue-eyed mans cheek, “you can walk me there.”

Subconsciously Bonnie thought she might know the man. His face was not unknown it seemed. Yet, her profession lent her many nameless faces. Bonnie shifted to run her hands down his arms. She gripped them and gave a gentle tug. “Come. And you can tell me your price there.”

by **Venser Rush** on February 13th, 2014, 8:40 am

It was intriguing to watch the intoxicated woman's reaction to his touch. Her fingers moved to capture his, the motion surprising the blonde, though he did nothing to prevent it. It was a tender, almost affectionate gesture, though it was to be expected of the woman in her state. While he had never been one to solicit a "prostitute," the few partners that made up the handful of notches on his bedpost being willing and free of charge, he could identify with enjoying the feel of another's body heat. The tenderness of the motion caused a reaction in the young man, the pace of his heart's beat increasing for a moment, before he distracted herself with the movement of smooth skin along his palm.

It was distracting, to say the least. How long has it been? Since Fall? Early Winter? Probably Fall. Quite the time, as the young man had busied himself with the pursuits of bones for the wondrous craft of Zapatl. Possibly too soon, for his ability to defend himself was not the strongest, but he managed to the best of his ability. And he survived. The most important thing. He had endured a number of injuries, including broken ribs which had stopped his ability to travel and collect for quite a while. Even his ability to work had suffered for the first few weeks. But, with the exception of a dull throb when he folded to each side, he was treated. In truth, the thought had crossed his mind a number of times in the course of the Winter, desire flashing in his mind, but he did little to seek it out.

Another time. Soon. It was always the same excuse, but it never came to results. And now, the result was in front of him. The irony is that I'm not even the solicitor. The thought brought a smile to the blonde's lips, just as the woman's hands pressed to his shoulders, the distance closed between them as she very nearly pressed herself to his body. Her smile, almost sleepy in appearance, lazy, contradicted the movements of her body, her words, the sounds she made showing her interest. It was nice to be wanted. Needed, even, as it seemed with her last words.

She didn't remember the way to her house. Again, it was understandable. Intoxicated, perhaps she was new to the city, Venser could never really know, though he had the slightest impression that he had seen her before. The thoughts were pulled from his mind as he mulled over his answer, though her final words and the subsequent kiss to his cheek, the heat from which swilled into his mind the pleasures to come, immediately coaxed an answer from him. He kept his voice level as his smile spread into what he hoped was a confident grin,

"Of course. I'll take excellent..." as the words left his lips, Venser pressed forward still, his chest pressing against the woman's breasts as her hands trailed still along the flesh of his arms. The motion brought his lips less than an inch from hers, the blonde holding the position, as if wondering if he should press on, for just a tick before his lips pressed to hers. A momentary kiss was all it took for the alcohol to overwhelm his senses, the smell intoxicating in its own right. It overwhelmed him for another tick before the man whispered against her lips, "Care of you."

Venser took the woman's arm in his own as he led her into what was the beginning of a short walk towards Tarsin's Boarding House. Is it really the best idea to take her home? Well... where else is there? Perhaps an idea would strike him on the way there.

by **Bonnibell Carson** on February 14th, 2014, 5:10 am

The places they touched hummed. The pleasant warmth in her spine turned into an ache. The ache bloomed agreeably into a greedy, hungry, bottomless thing. With a single kiss, her eyes grew wide. She made a noise low in the back of her throat. Gluttonously Bonnie drank in his grin. She favored him with one of her own. Her reactions were desperate but not entirely from the alcohol. In this case the saying would hold true that distance makes the heart grow fonder. For near a season Bonnie had been troubled. Unable to find release. A bedmate had been the farthest thing from her mind. In her current state it was the only thought left.

Readily she let him lead her. The faint chill did nothing to clear her head. Bonnie would later be grateful for his arm, lest she wind up on the floor. But for the chime it was merely her guide. It was also a pleasant game. While she should have kept her eyes on placing one foot in front of the other, Bonnie watched his arm. With the arm wrapped she dragged her nails lightly up and down. It fascinated her to feel the skin give gently. It gave made her hair stand on end. She couldn’t help but try to tug. To urge him to make haste. Her breath quickened while they walked. Her mind ran away with her. A couple. She thought with an idiotic giggle and grin. A couple on a late night stroll.

Suspicion should have wormed its way into her head at the sight of the Tarsin Boarding House. It did not. Rather it turned her greedy anticipation into impatience. She wanted to be in a bed five chimes ago. Bonnie turned to face her partner. In the light of the house she was even more pleased with her decision. The young woman grinned, all teeth. With no finesse she faced him again. Her head came just to his shoulder. Bonnie pressed herself against him fully. She let her hands roam across his chest. Her nails hooked into the fabric of his shirt and pulled. She did not hesitate to press her lips to his collar. Her lips drank in the feeling of warmth. The mimicry of the kiss. She wanted another. More would actually be the word she needed but her mind was quickly unweaving itself. When she pulled back Bonnie could see a faint mark on his skin from her pomade. Mine for tonight. She thought smugly. She would not realize she’d also said it out loud. “Kiss?” The young woman meant to sound breathy or excited but edgy want crept in. She had also meant to ask where his room was but her mind had long since derailed any form of actual coherence.

“I meant room. We need your room. A room.” Any room. Bonnie thought lasciviously. At this point she would have settled for a Ravosala. “And a name.” She added. She didn’t specify a real or false one. Some part of her knew his profession meant he probably doled out false names.

by **Venser Rush** on February 14th, 2014, 12:58 pm

The two brothers lived in adjoining rooms within the Boarding House, a decision made by the two that, on the surface, seemed to hide nothing from one another. It was the opinion that most held, especially within this place, that a brotherly bond between the Rush twins, alike to that of Alleck and Ares, was a strong one. And recently, the assumption was true. But, it mattered very little whether or not Verin returned in the coming bells. An action as simple as locking the door that connected the two rooms would be enough to tip off the elder that the younger twin needed privacy for the evening.

The thought washed over his mind for but a second as the 'couple' traversed the path leading to the place, arm in arm like a couple, the woman's fingernails trailing along the surface of his forearm. It was a cycle of vicious sensation, delicate touch, sharp, teasing motion. Its primary purpose was to show the young man just how long it had been since he had a bedmate. An eternity, it seems. There was a short climb upwards of two floors to reach the adjoining rooms, Venser about to pull the key from his neck and unlock the door for their night to begin, but she seemed to have other plans. She turned to face him, pressing her body to his a second time, leaving the engraver to be pressed into the door, his back wedged between the surface and the woman's form, but he paid it no mind. Thankfully, there was no fear of claustrophobia plaguing the twin.

Rather, he was consumed. She pressed her lips to his collar, eagerly taking what she desired from him, pulling away a moment after and declaring her prize for the night. Mine for tonight. The claim was clear, softly spoken but boldly expressed. For a moment, he opened his mouth to argue it, his pride despising the notion of ownership. Thankfully, though, he remembered his current "station" before he could do so. And the situation fit even better. Her request for a kiss could easily be his medium for disguising his action, but then she continued to speak. Room. The humour of the situation, the fact that the woman's intoxication derailing any sense of coherent thought was funny, to say the least. It was almost contagious, but for the moment at least, Venser needed to keep his wits about him.

"Of course. We're standing right in front of it. I just need to open it." His smile spread into a grin again as he raised one hand, placing it as his own neck and pulling the small key to the room, supported only by a string. Lowering his hand once the key was taken, his other moved to press to the woman's cheek, fingertips delicately threading into her hair before he pulled her forward, meeting her again for the kiss she so desperately requested. Lips pressed to one another, Venser's slowly parting hers as the desire manifested within himself, as well. He wanted it. He needed this. It had been far, far too long. But, there were formalities to be had. She had asked for a prostitute, not a bedmate. It would be suspicious not to charge her for 'services rendered'.

"Six gold mizas and I'm yours for the night, love." It was less than the standard rate for 'marathon' at the House of Immortal Pleasures, but again, Venser was an 'independent.' While he lacked the 'experience' a harlot had, he did have a space for her to stay when they were done.

Her request for a name was a strange one considering her perception of who he was. She wanted a name? He decided to give her one. His. "My name is Venser, love."

by **Bonnibell Carson** on February 14th, 2014, 6:46 pm

Memory was not something that worked well with alcohol. Case in point, her impatience had ignored the door they were in front of. Bonnie opened her mouth to inform him he needed to hurry up. But her request for a kiss was granted. This was not so chaste as the other brief kisses. Her entire body tensed. Her fingers clenched at nothing. When he pulled back she followed dizzily. It took a few chimes for her to have the sense to pull away so the door could be opened. And a few chimes to understand what he said. Caution broke through her haze. Bonnie raised a finger to her lips. Even the feel of her own fingers distracted her. She nibbled a nail. The young womans mind was torn. She was nervous about things she couldn’t realize.

The sight of the room eroded it swiftly enough. Her gaze rested on the bed and nothing else. Dimly she would hear her own voice. “Your bed.” But she was more focused on getting to the bed. To her tingly body everything was glorious once more. The bed felt soft, it scratched along her palm. She made a small noise.

The greed from before threatened to consume her whole. Bonnie was not shy. However, she was also drunk. Any modesty she had vanished a least a bell ago. Along with any sense. She kicked off her shoes. Coin fell from them. It would have been smart to count it. To ensure she wouldn’t be stolen from. But Bonnie did not even register the noise. She was too busy with trying to alluringly pull off her shirt. It caught in the mass of waves that was her hair, and her elbow refused to bend properly. She gave it a sharp pull and threw it to the ground. Her gaze sought out her companion. When it found him, she gazed slowly up and down. As if she could see through his clothes. “Six gold is worth it.” Bonnie had spent many more at the Immortal Pleasures. It was amazing how many of them one could get in a night. But freelance was cheaper. She’d try to remember that when she woke. She wouldn’t succeed.

From where she sat Bonnie reached out. She would try to use Venser’s shirt to pull him forward. Her hands would slide under his shirt. Feeling, wanting. Gods how she wanted. But her mind was distracted but such simple things. The feel of her hand finally on him. Her hands would drift lower. They were not exactly focused touches, or even sexual. They were touches. Almost like a child exploring a new toy. Bonnie hummed happily.

Trailing her hands back up she reached for his hands. To place them on her. She wanted reciprocation. Kisses. Her mind reminded her dimly, she liked them. She moved to lift Vensers shirt. She placed a kiss on his stomach. Playfully she grinned up at him, her eyes half closed. “Venser.” She called softly. She meant to ask him to lie down. Her tongue slurred on the S, it drug it out and rolled. She said it again, amused. “Venser.” She kissed his stomach again. This time she parted her lips to taste. Skin tasted of salt, it rested comfortably on her tongue. When she pulled back her lips supplied a question.

“Bed?” She would regret how childish she sounded. Or she would if she would remember. For the chime she was content touch, and kiss whatever skin was exposed. A distant part of Bonnies brain tried to remember how to entice. She arced back, to show herself. She pulled. She wanted a weight on her.

by **Venser Rush** on February 14th, 2014, 11:23 pm

Several things that Venser noticed amused him. The way his intoxicated 'client' writhed at his kiss was the first, her following of his body movements as he pulled away bringing a sense of satisfaction that accompanied success. Capture. It was the most interesting of ironies, that while she had paid to own him for the evening, it was her that was the prey. At least, it was how it appeared. Intoxication did have a way of destroying one's control of a situation. Fingers closed around the key in his hand, pressing it into the room's lock and turning it. When she finally had the notion that to move was necessary to open the door, he followed her, pulling the door with him and allowing her to enter first.

The room was, at the very least, comfortable. Common furnishings and a bed of reasonable size for two people, though Venser slept alone. It was the furnishings included with the place, for the house Venser had grown up in was abandoned, the Rush twins favouring the beginning of a new life under a new roof. For the memories of the past were powerful, and there was no telling if Vilkas Rush haunted the place. It was best to just let it go.

Venser was, in fact, far happier with his present arrangements, but again, all thoughts were abandoned as the woman spoke, placing herself on the bed she had referred to. As the woman, in her desire to 'get started' kicked off her shoes, Venser heard the shaking of coins, a number, not counted but plainly more than six, of the mizas spilling onto the floor, scattered about superfluously, but this was the last thing Venser noticed before she pulled off her clothes. The motion was rather jerky, the intoxicated woman obviously having problems doing it, but it resulted in the same thing.

Revelation. It instinctively pushed the man forward, his shirt well within his client's reach as she clutched at it, Venser nearly falling on top of her, though a well-placed movement of his arms, placing a hand at each side of her, saved him from the embarrassment. Her gaze on his form, still clothed, was not missed, his grin turning to a smirk as he accepted the backhanded compliment. The man placed at arm at her waist, using it to support his own weight as her fingers slipped beneath the fabric of his silver shirt, pressing into the lean musculature of his abdomen in her exploration. Again, it hinted at what was to come. If a simple touch can do this much... The soft touch of a woman, regardless of the intent behind it, was a beautiful thing. Something that he sorely missed.

Then, her hands pulled at his, placing them upon her body, all but telling him what she desired of him. It was, of course, to be granted. The fingers of his each hand traversed the smooth skin of her stomach, rising along the curves of her breasts as her lips pressed to his stomach. It happened again, the twin's eyes closing in pleasure as the warmth invaded the skin, cool from Ravok's night weather. Slowly, as his heart began to pace faster in his chest, his body temperature rose. The woman adjusted her posture on the bed, her back arching to show her the body she offered him. It was to be taken, Venser pulled forward, but he, for the moment, rejected it.

Still fully clothed, the exposure of flesh was not proper for a man deemed to be a prostitute, Venser's left hand moving from his prize's body as he raised it to the collar of his shirt. The other soon joined, Venser's abdomen revealed first, then the rest of his torso as his shirt was thrown unceremoniously to the floor.

Her last word, childish as it sounded, amused the man again. The motion that accompanied it, the pulling of his body onto hers, was a plain sign, one of many that had been presented, of just how desperate she was for this. It was mirrored in him, especially now that he had explored and been explored as a response. Venser's body pressed to hers, his chest pressed to the woman's breasts again, his abdomen on hers, legs woven together in a tapestry of contact and chaos as the Rush twin pressed his lips to hers for the third time.

It was an entirely different feeling now that arousal had begun to thoroughly rule him. Lips pressed against one another began to part, Venser's tongue lashing forward in an almost aggressive desire to taste. when the motion produced results, he savoured it. He reveled in her warmth as he began to lose sight of individual self, surrendering to lust as his hands explored his prize's body.

by **Nemesis** on May 2nd, 2014, 11:28 am

Bonnibell Carson

Note :

Venser Rush

Knowledge :

Micellaneous :

____________________________________________

Notes

*It's a real shame this thread wasn't finished; I was really getting into it.
*As always, Venser, it's a pleasure to read your threads. This one in particular, is a side I haven't seen in a very long time, and I love it. You should do more seducing and propositioning of women <.< stop being a carver. Beautifully written; you deserve every point.

Feel free to PM me with questions, comments, or concerns, if you have any.
Also, remember to either delete your grade request or edit it as 'graded'.
Thank ye!

Skill	XP
Observation	+3
Philosophy	+1
Seduction	+4