[The Dust Bed Ridge] In Good Grace (Zandelia)

[Musca]

Timestamp: Spring 37th 512AV A humming filled the chilly morning air as she meandered through the tombstones that immortalised the dead, her claw scraping against it’s surface, orchestrating a music that oddly fit the solemn atmosphere of the graveyard. It was true Musca was no singer, but indulging in a makeshift song wouldn’t hurt once and a while. Besides the dead, no one was around to criticise her. But the break of morning was coming soon. What was a creature like herself still roving among the dead? Whimsy. Simple whimsy. There was no deeper meaning behind it, no other words to describe a random longing that came with morning and sleepiness. The humming continued. She passed the lower cemeteries, taking in the wide expanse of the bay and wondering about the mysteries that floated by underneath such murkiness. Probably nothing, but it was nice to think about such things that didn’t matter in her little chaotic world that she had built up. Perhaps her reason for waiting the sunrise wasn’t totally on a whimsy. For some reason, she was growing wary of her own makeshift home. It was unsettling- the knowledge that another being other than herself breathed in the same air as her inside the cave, kept the sheets warm and mixed his scent with hers. No, it wasn’t unsettling; it was downright disturbing. The decreasing available space in her bed was enough of an indicator of her discomfort. Never mind a body laying next to her that wasn’t a temporary distraction. It was too much- the devotion, the excitement, the endless well of adoration that he gave to her.... she was not used to that. Never had she had a man snuggle up to her or kiss her by the head. Musca was no stranger to physical intimacies but her domain of understanding of it was quite narrow and simple. Sex was simple. Easy. It required no thought or analysation; it was pure instinct. And it certainly didn’t call for tender cuddles. Musca blew an annoyed grunt, impatiently waiting for the sun to come up as she sat on top of one of the gravestones, wondering where the petch her life was going. Suddenly, she laughed. How pathetic she was now! A Zith without a home to go back to, and a slave she couldn’t bear the sight of. Pathetic. And the worst part? The petching sun won’t even shine for her.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia was walking towards one of the places she knew well enough, though she had not visited it on more than a little while. It was an area of Sunberth’s surroundings that she tried not to think about, normally avoided for most of each season, letting it rot as the winds changed and the weather varied. It was a place where, for the majority of her life now she realized, she had believed her father to be buried. She had managed to make the trek as often as she dared, paying homage to the one she believed to be her role model – in many ways. Since her fateful meeting with Garret, discovering it had all been a lie, she had put off the visit. The area now filled her mouth with the bitter taste of bile and the growing knowledge that she had been fooled all of this time, a sickening twist to her life.

He lies not there, but lived and grew fat at my expense. He will pay in kind, in body, soon enough. For now, though, it will be enough to kick the damned place to pieces she told herself as she slowly made her way towards the pitted gates, her resolve beginning to weaken despite her effort to spur it forwards.

“Afternoon Jebediah,” she hailed the owner of the graveyard, for want of a better word, as she passed through the threshold of death and decomposition, “I’d wager you have been busy these last few days hmm?” she asked him as the repeated pleasantry stated upon each visit.

“Well enough girl, well enough. Always bodies being put into the ground. See you’re not one of them yet” the keeper spoke back without looking up at her from his working.

“Life in me still” she finished the exchange as she walked past him and his workers, her mind set firmly upon what she was about to do.

Zandelia made her way through the mostly barren landscape, her gaze as always noting that there seemed to be a strange order to what was ostensibly the resting place of Sunberth’s citizens. She had tried for years to fathom the order, the thought processes that lay behind such a staggeringly strange collection of nucleated graves and unspoiled soil. As always she remained baffled but impressed with Jebediah’s work. He had a knack, it seemed, for limiting the return of the dead. She had heard tales it was possible and was not one to discount such tales as overly foolish. She had never seen anything of the like, however she was inclined to believe that if they existed the grizzled grave keeper knew what they were about. I was admirable in a way, his devotion to the watch.

Perhaps one day others will say it of me, but for differing reasons she hoped to herself as she began to enter the plot where her ‘father’ was a peace. It was then that she encountered the second Zith of her lifetime, only this one was decidedly feminine.

She padded up behind her slowly, all too aware, from personal experience, that Zith had good hearing. She did not want to disturb a creature that could be half-feral after all. Still, she could not help but admire the creature’s physique. She was curved in all the right places, full pouting lips and hair Zandelia would have killed for. She caught herself wondering if it was in some way revolting that she could imagine herself trailing her fingers through the soft fur that covered the majority of the Zith’s body. She smiled to herself and knew that it was, but found no reason not to desire it.

“Well well,” she spoke softly as she let her hand reach out and let a single finger trail through the soft fur of the woman's back, ending jsut above her rump for full effect and smiling as it illicited a sartled tensing from the creature, “we have a female Zith. Had I know your species was so well endowed I’d have tried to meet one all the sooner!” she chuckled as she came around to lean her hip against the edge of the gravestone the creature was hunched upon.

“Now, the male one I know is not too poor a specimen mind you, but I don’t think I’ll be bedding him any time soon. And wings too, are you all so alike?” she asked as she could not resist touching the appendages, feeling a leathery texture almost brush under her fingers. She stepped back then, lest she face the claws of an irate monster. She felt little fear, however, she had a spring blade should the need arise.

But the pensive expression is not that of an animal, more human than anything. Methinks there is more to this Zith than fangs and claws she thought to herself as she put her hands up in a conciliatory gesture.

“Do you have a name also? Or should I just call you Zith and let my confusion grow more acute?” she asked in as friendly a tone as she could, letting a bit of sultry seep into her words also.

[Musca]

There was a stranger in her midst. And from the looks of it, the stranger seem to know about the hearing of her kind. The Zith smiled thinly, slightly impressed. It was simply too bad she didn't know about their sense of smell. And too bad she really wasn't in the mood to enlighten the human. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes to focus on the new scent that mingled around the dank air of the cemetery. It was decidedly feminine. Musca frowned. Unusual, very unusual. Though piqued, the Zith played ignorant, in the hopes that the human female would simply leave after satiating her curiousity. Apparently not. A lone finger stroked at her back, following the outline of her spine as it travelled southbound, only stopping to at the beginning of the curve of her butt. In response, her body shuddered without consent, a subtle plea for it's continuation. But she smothered the feeling as soon as she recognised in- her pride not wanting to easily succumb to a mere human female. At the mention of the other Zith, Musca looked at the woman and craned her brow haughtily, wanting to prove her control over the situation that she really didn't know what to make of. "That's too bad. I've been told that the Zith makes wonderful companions between the sheets." At the mention of her wings, the female Zith began to bristle, irritated. But once again, the moment her hands made contact with said wings, words died out long before they could taste oxygen. A sharp gasp tumbled out of her lips, her heartbeat quickening as the strokes became more pronounced, curious. "You are a brave little human, aren't you?" Musca growled, after she had withdrawn her hand and sat next to her. "Is that the right word for it though? Bravery? Maybe I should call it foolish confidence. Judging from your earlier caution, you seem to acquainted in our hearing. No doubt from that pup that calls himself Shadowfang. I'll have you know that whatever he's done to impress you, they're theatrics suited for simpleminded idiots." She gave a sardonic smile as she feasted on the image of the woman in front of her. Not bad. Not bad at all. Musca wetted her lips. "For someone who just pawed on me thoughtlessly, you sure are being rather courteous on your approach. How very sweet of you." Her eyes flickered suggestively at the lips of the new stranger, smiling slightly as she leaned in closer, voice dropping into a murmur. "But a name? Out of all the things to ask me, why my name? It carries no weight at all. It's easily changed and replaced. Wouldn't you rather take something else rather than a vague idea that barely explains the essence of a being?" Claws brushed the surface of the stranger's hand as the Zith leaned back, griping the tombstone tightly, still intently staring at the woman. "But call me Musca, if you really must insist. I suppose I should ask yours? Or, should I ask how you knew of me? Through the pup, Shadowfang? Or through some more obscure information that I really don't care of?"

[Zandelia]

Zandelia smiled as she listened to the creature speak, only diverting half of her considerable attention span towards the actual dissection of her words. The rest of her attention was enthralled by the creature herself, or rather itself. She had looked beautiful from afar, however seeing her from the front and up close she could understand how attraction could be enflamed within her so easily. Zandelia was no prude, nor was she shy in any sense of the word. She all too often all but bundled a barmaid into her bedding so that she could use her and abuse her for semi-satisfaction. What held her gaze at that moment, however, was one of those precious things she often sought for but rarely found – the opportunity for true exploration of sensuality.

And she tells me that Zith make very positive partners under the sheets. It must be my lucky day after all she thought as she noted the creature, Musca, had come to the end of her diatribe.

“Well, why would I not be courteous to one whom has claws to use upon me. I do not mind their use, but am partial to keeping my throat more or less intact,” she responded lightly, teasingly, “so forgive me for stepping back after the greeting that looked to be…enjoyed” she continued in a sultry tone.

“You speak of Shadowfang as if he were a nothing, dear Musca,” she spoke now as she circled her form slowly, letting her decide whether she would maintain visual contact of Zandelia’s form, “but I would wager that when I am finished with him he will be possessed of talent you would not expect, and perhaps even wish to possess. I wouldn’t rule him out just yet, I’m a good tutor” she circled around fully now, letting her fingers trace across the fur of Musca’s forearm this time as she came to stand in front of her.

“A name is but a title, something to call someone, you are correct. They do have power, however, power to dominate someone with said name. You just gave me that power, or the chance at it, without much thought. Even Shadowfang did not do that. It speaks of…recklessness” she leant forwards slightly then, just enough to let her breath play over Musca’s face and lips slightly before leaning back with her forefinger upon her lips, a thougtful expression of half-crossed arms that served to elevate and push out her bust.

Oh how I enjoy these kinds of games she mused as she let her single, emerald green eye meet Musca’s gaze to see if frustration played there or not. The hunt was so much more fulfilling when frustration could be twisted, bent to fit her whims.

“Although, you do seem to be a rather more impressive specimen, in body at least. I wonder if your mind is as sharp though, as prone to seeking out things with a single-mindedn3ess I hear your species is renowned for,” she stepped forwards to sit next to Musca now, their bodies just brushing and Zandelia’s form imposing itself upon Musca’s personal space, probing for its strength.

“Why I am here has nothing to do with you, however I am inclined to abandon my real purpose for your more pleasant company. I shall give you a clue though and see if your eyes are as good as the claim,” she continued, letting her hand rest upon Musca’s thigh now in a calculated gesture, “my second name is Sansom. The answer is in your sight, right before you. Time alters it but does not alter its purpose so long as memories live in those who remember. Why am I here?” she finished with a smile for Musca as she leant into her space further, brushing their torso’s together slightly now. She tilted her head so that Musca could see it and was but a few hands away.

The games we play, for our own pleasures she thought as her gaze tried to pierce through Musca, into the very inner-workings of her person.

[Musca]

She laughed, the sound light and airy- a surprising contrast to the glint in her eyes. Oh, how slick she was! A woman with a slivery tongue that could possibly match her in game. How delightful. "Oh, I don't know. I could be willing to teach you some delights with claws on throats. From what I can assess from your actions, I think you'd rather enjoy it." The woman was circling her now, watching and prodding her with static awareness. Musca examined her claws, feigning disinterest at the creature. "Your mistaken, woman. I happen to be very fond of the little pup. And indeed, he is in dire need for some guidance. But..." she smiled coyly as the woman stopped and traced figures on her forearm, taking her time in gathering the prying hands into her own and let it go thoughtlessly after the brief touch. "... while I'm sure that your talents are impressive, you must keep in mind that we're not humans. A young Zith like him is very impressionable. I'd hate to think that you're filling his thoughts with nonsense." It was when she leaned in closer did Musca seized her chance to play with the blonde hair that teasingly fell forwards as she spoke dilute words that ran past the Musca's ears, enjoying her efforts far too much to analyse. "Mhm." The Zith sounded, tucking some strands back into her ear and watched as she drew back. It took her a moment to reply, the sight of her full bosom bringing a slight smirk in Musca's lips. "Perhaps I enjoy reckless behaviour. Don't you? That spark of adrenaline that clouds logical judgement... it's certainly intoxicating. Let's not forget that recklessness also breeds entertainment- the only thing that makes life worth living, more sweeter and luscious. Who am I to deny such a gift? How can anyone resist?" She sat close to her now, far too close to be considered a friendly encounter. And certainly, the hand that skimmed her thigh and the chest that pressed closed to her body foretold her intentions clearly. For a moment, the Zith only watched and listened carefully, weighing in her words with slight mirth. She was trying so hard, this Sansom woman. How willingly she throws herself to a creature such as Musca- a creature that could easily decapitate another while inundated with pleasure. How very daring indeed. Musca let her touch linger longer on her skin before she made her own moves, the mixture of irritation, humour and temptation slightly disorienting her. Musca turned to the woman, letting her claw drape over the soft flesh of her arm, trailing up to her shoulder whilst once again trifling herself with the strands of blonde hair. "Single-mindedness... you make us sound like simple creatures with no capacity to think beyond their immediate satisfaction." She flicked the hair away and countered her stare. "Unlike you humans, we're not afraid to call on to our real natures. We're not scared of immersing ourselves with what you consider questionable acts. I know my own worth- my own standing in this world. It's only right I take what I know the world owes me." Claws flicked her hair away, travelling to her throat and cupping it. Musca smiled widely, brushing her jaw with wet lips. "Questions... answers and time... you talk too much. Are you expecting some sort of debate? I would relent, but I don't think we'd enjoy it as much." She smiled at her, flashing her sharp teeth before nibbling gently at her ear. After a chime, Musca pulled away, smirking at the woman and walked away from her makeshift chair. "To be honest, I don't really care about your reasons for seeking me out. What I'm interested in is you... and in the challenge that you've given me." With a hand on her hips, she turned to the woman and thinly smiled. "I don't appreciate being challenged by a stranger with a tricky tongue. You give me no sound reason to yield to your little challenge. No; my interest lie in our current predicament in this grave." Musca smiled a slowly, her tongue running across her lips. "Now comes the question; what should we do about it?"

[Zandelia]

Zandelia felt some of her carefully constructed internal barriers begin to crumble around their edges a little as the Zith female set about accepting the unspoken challenge that had been lain out before her. It was a delight in many ways to feel the thrill of seductive technique used back in reciprocation, the first such time in what felt like an age now. It was a game as much as anything for Zandelia could guess just as much as the other woman what the resultant might entail. There were two choices open to the pair of them, to spend some delicious time together, or to not. The conclusion was not all important in the grand scheme of things, however the journey towards the conclusion was seemingly all important. The way that Musca brushed her hair aside made her skin shiver momentarily with each delicate stroke, her breathing slightly shallower than usual now as she watched Musca pose, contrived she was sure.

She does have a certain sense of…aggressive beauty about her. Primal and untamed. One could almost forget she had wings at all Zandelia thought as she tried to recover slightly and take back the initiative that had now been lost slightly. Musca was a crafty opponent indeed.

“Oh, but time is best served when it is savored don’t you think, my darling Musca” Zandelia asked the woman as she pushed herself up off the grave now and began a slow pacing towards the Zith, hips rotating rather nicely as step-by-step she drew closer now, mimicking Musca’s hand on hips pose.

“And debate, well debate and – more precisely – the words contained within can be just as exhilarating in warming the soul than actions at times. For example, these worthless notions I am putting into the ‘pup’ you so aptly pointed out. Well, they involve very physical activities. I am teaching him to kill after all. Would you like to know how?” she asked Musca without waiting for an answer.

“With hands and knives, hands and knives,” she whispered as she was close enough to now, quickly pacing around the other woman and tracing her fingers down her back to the joining of the ribcage and the spine, “here” she let her words entangle with her touch for Musca’s senses as she dug her nails in lightly, raking the across her furred body as she the traced her hand up and around her shoulder.

“Here,” she scratched the woman’s throat gently as she came around to face her again.

“And perhaps, someday, here too” she let her hand rest upon the woman’s breast before pushing it upwards to tangle within the other woman’s hair now, a repayment in kind for earlier.

Her manner tells me to leave, cold and aloof. Her promiscuity tells me to stay but cannot be trusted. No, we can only trust her body methinks, and what it tells her she mused as she smiled for the woman once more, more predatory than before.

“Oh, you are a poor predator Musca, all these promises to scratches and throat ripping and it seems that I am more primal than you are…my dear”, she purred her words now, her eyes locked with the other’s as she half-licked her lips, “perhaps you do not know how to hunt, to take what you want anymore?” she continued teasingly.

“Perhaps Shadowfang would be a better one to get to show instinct hmm?” she asked the other one out loud, purposefully daring her to prove Zandelia wrong in her assumptions.

The real question was in what manner Musca would show in response.

[Limey]

Musca Skill and Lore Rewards Skills Lore Observation 3 The Sun Don't Shine On Me Seduction 3 Zandelia: Bold But Amusing Appreciating A Challenge Zandelia Skill and Lore Rewards Skills Lore Rhetoric 2 One Day, Old Man... Observation 1 Domain Of The Deceased Seduction 3 Jebediah: Grizzled Grave Keeper Zith: Soft And Silky Playing Games Raising Stakes Additional Notes : Aw, what a jip, just as it was gettin' hev-ay! Still, good work, ladies. I like these verbally sparring threads, they take a lot more subtlety than the combat variety. Shame this got abandoned, hope to see you pick it up again, or something like it. Any questions or queries, please PM me.