[Senda Cove] The Perils of Belly Dancing (Chevis)

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An inland sea created by Ivak's cataclismic fury during the Valterrian, the Suvan Sea is a major trade route and the foremost hub for piracy in Mizahar. [lore]

[Senda Cove] The Perils of Belly Dancing (Chevis)

Postby Citrine Maelstrom on August 5th, 2011, 9:21 pm

Location: Senda Cove
Timestamp: 30th Day of Summer, 511 A.V.
Tag: Chevis Maelstrom

When the two swarthy Svefra bounded over her sides and beached the Emmaline in the shelter of Senda Cove, Citrine had already been ashore for most of the day and was close to making her way back to her own Casinor, the Spitfire. At the sound of the boisterous ruckus, she stopped and stood just inside the cover of the lush forest, not visible to those on shore. A compliment of six landed on the beach, three men, two of them built like the walls of a house and the third a mousy, rope-like fellow who seemed to be more of a lackey than an equal. Then there were the woman, three, each one more exotic than the one before. Citrine watched the movement of the women, noting how their breasts seemed ready to spill from their tightly tied blouses. A quick glance down at her own, shapeless flowing clothes brought a quirk to her brow. With her cheek resting against the flat trunk of a tree, she watched as the sirens seduced their victims without even trying. The sway of rounded hips, a trailing finger that led the way to the inviting valley between their breasts, the tousled blonde was captivated by the dance being performed on the white sand of Senda cove.

The light slipped lower, lengthening the shadows as the young Maelstrom watched the party unfold. Rum flowed like water, into the mouths and across the bodies of all present, driving the actions of the women to brazen displays that made her blush; They were so very bold, going so far as to guide the hands of the rum soaked men to the optimum place on their bodies to grope.

"Lily... give us a dance!"

The larger of the two walls slurred his request toward the moat beautiful of the women. At his demand, she moved to the center of the party, placing herself just so the firelight would take away any mystery that her sheer clothes and the wandering hands of her companions had left undiscovered. As the other women began to play a sultry tune on a flute and a guitar, the raven-haired beauty began to move. If she has been captivated before, Citrine was now entranced, unable to tear her eyes away from the isolated movements of 'Lily's' beautiful hips. From the safety of the trees, she watched, and unconsciously imitated every movement performed by those hips.

Citrine began by smoothly moving her hips in a slow figure eight, her arms twining together over her head. As her unknowing teacher lowered her crossed arms, to run an open palm along each side of her face and across the exposed skin of her upper chest, Citrine mimicked every motion. While her upper body remained still, the hips of the woman increased their movement, keeping time with the music, and disarming anyone who watched. The athletic, yet sensual progression taken by Lily was intricate, her hips thrown to the side as she balanced a long muscular leg on the tip of a pointed toe. Though Citrine had kept up for the first few movements, she found that with every new thing she saw, she had to stop and repeat it over and over again until she got the flow, totally losing the rhythm of the music. The longer she tried to mirror the dance, the more strained her fit body began to feel.

Finally, the dance was done, and both Lily and her student were covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Out of breath, and feeling muscles that she never knew she had, it was then that Citrine noticed that the fire was the only light illuminating the world. A flash of fear shot through her, knowing the fury her pod would feel at seeing her in this situation, alone. The Spitfire was anchored just below the outcropped crag of a cliff, out of sight of the cove, so if she could reach that cliff, the water below would welcome her home.

When the biggest man, Railek, she thought she heard someone call him, grabbed Lily and overtook her in a boorish kiss, Citrine moved deeper into the trees. Taking a line that mirrored the shore, she moved up the sloping grade toward the cliffs, unaware that in spite of the intoxication of the revelers, her departure had not gone without notice. Lucky for her, the forest was far less dense as it neared the beach and even with the absence of daylight she was able to move clumsily through them. The darkness in tandem with her danced out muscles made it almost impossible for her to travel quietly, an easily tracked target by the men below.


As she ran toward the cliffs, it was all she could do to see a few feet in front of her, and while she focused on the ground for footing she missed the obstacle right in front of her face. A long twisted limb dipped into the path she was taking, how she missed it was beyond her, but it did not miss her. Like the keenest knife, one of its reaching fingers tore a jagged line through fabric and skin along her ribs as she passed, garnering a sharp hiss as she pulled a breath of air through her clenched teeth. Petch! She stopped, pressing her palm across the gash while drawing a long slow breath. Slow down. She shook off the setback and continued climbing toward the cliff, with more care, and less abandon. Her eyes now focused somewhere between ground and sky, she tried to watch for any obstacles in her path. There was a loud exchange coming from the beach, but she no longer had a clear view of the party, surely it was too much rum taking over. Disregarding the outburst, she continued, her only goal to get back to the comfort of her casinor without further injury. As though on cue, a root that had burst from the ground seemed to grab the tip of her toes and her momentum sent her crashing toward the ground. Could you make anymore noise Citrine! She lay there for a few moments, listening for any sigh that she was heard. Thank Laviku for rum. As she stood, she could feel the air as it hit the new wound on her leg, it was always curious to her how air could feel so abrasive. She had nearly reached her destination, just a few more yards. As long as she could see this to the end without further injury, her family need never know how careless she'd been, and as reminder for the future, she would most likely carry a couple new scars

Finally, she looked down at her Casinor and blew out a long breath of relief. She gathered her hair into a tail, and wove it into a fluffy knot at the back of her head before fanning her arms to the side and launching into the sea below. Before breaking the surface, her arms became the point of an arrow, clearing her path as she sliced through the water. A quick upward turn prevented any impact with the sea floor and her inner voice reminded her to stick to the water from here on out. Her wounds were washed clean as the water coursed through them, scrubbing them by the speed of her movement. She swam until the anchor line was firmly held in her hand, then with speed and silence she shimmied up the length of it.

When her feet finally hit the deck of her casinor, nothing had ever felt quite as good and she sat down to catch her breath. The comfort of being aboard took away any sense of panic she'd felt on the cliff above and when she stood, her walk across the deck was adorned with the movements she'd learned from her dance teacher. As she moved her hips in a slow, sensual figure eight, she grasped the hem of her wet shirt and dragged it off over her head to use as a prop for an invisible audience.

The path she walked across the deck was a perfect companion to the two sets of wet footprints that already lead to her cabin, sadly unnoticed as they guided her to the worst of her night.
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Citrine Maelstrom
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Joined roleplay: June 13th, 2011, 5:51 pm
Race: Human, Svefra
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