Flashback Sex, Plots, and Escapes (Iskessah)

[Rengar]

Timestamp: Summer 55, 500 AV Garren was whistling a tune he'd picked up from his days among the Drykas, as he walked through the narrow streets of Ravok, the city he'd come to know well these last two years. The city wasn't so bad, so long as you didn't stick your nose into anyone's business and didn't cause any trouble. Or were friends with people that did those things. He'd been working, providing lumber for the city's many boats, carpenters, and forges. But soon it would be time for them to move on, first to Nyka, then back to Mura, his second home. They both missed Nyla dearly. She was the only woman they both loved whole-heartedly, and the only one that loved them both equally. She gave them both daughters, the first to Rengar, and the second to Garren, and those little girls were sorely missed as well. But Garren didn't wish to dwell on such thoughts, for he had needs that only a woman's touch could satisfy. Which is why he was now standing outside of the House of Immortal Pleasures, a hefty pouch of mizas hanging from his belt. They'd made plenty of money working here, and he'd learned an important lesson about brothels over the years. The only money you take to a brothel is money you're willing to never see again. He opened the door, and stepped into the pleasant black and white atmosphere, a smile on his face akin to when an Akalak receives his Lakan. He loved it here, the women barely wore more than smiles, and all were beautiful, intelligent, and very, very well trained. Rengar never participated in such revelries, for he requires a woman he can be with in more than a carnal capacity. He walked confidently up to a small, blonde woman, but immediately felt a pang of guilt from his brother, followed by longing for Nyla. He decided to respect their true lover, and moved past the blonde, who looked a little disappointed. He found another petite woman, raven haired this time, thin of waist, lovely hips, and perky breasts. Garren smiled, she would be his first woman tonight. She saw him strolling to her, and smiled, falling back onto her heels, twirling her ebony hair with her fingers. "Well there's a sight we haven't seen in a while, where've you been Garren?" "Working, thinking about moving on to another town. Maybe I'll take you with me." She playfully slapped him in the arm, "You know I can't, and I'll be sad to see you go. You're one of the few men who actually tell their stories of seeing the world." Her eyes looked down at his coin pouch, "Brought an awful lot of Mizas darling. Planning an all night last hurrah?" "Something like that, we'd like to leave town with all the women missing us and all the men thanking Rhysol we've gone." Garren reached into his pouch and plucked out two golden mizas, and handed them to the woman, "Aw, I only get you for an hour? But it's your last night here!" "Maybe I'll come back again later in the night, if you've recovered that is," he spoke with a teasing smile. She took him by the hand, leading him through the dark purple curtain, snagging a bottle of wine on her way in. As she ascended the stairs, he watched her small body move lithely beneath the beautiful golden dress, that left just enough to the imagination. He bent down and whispered in her ear, "You've let your hair grow, I quite like it." She blushed, a rarity in such a locale, "You're the only man to have noticed. Why do all the good ones leave our wonderful city?" The pair arrived at an unoccupied room, the door swinging open silently as she led him in. She sat at the end of the bed gently, watching him, a hint of sadness in her eyes. But as a woman of a brothel, she would never let herself cry in front of a customer. And Garren had enough decency to not mention it. He lightly plucked the bottle of wine from her small hands, and ripped the cork out, placing it on a table, the bottle right next to it, to let it breathe. A slight tremor in her voice, "So you're really leaving? Where will you go?" "First to Nyka for a while, then to visit our girls on Mura. It's been so long since we've seen them. They were just babes before, and now they will be old enough to need a father's hand in training." Garren wrapped a massive arm around her shoulder, and gently pulled her into the crook of his body, where she relaxed snugly. A few chimes passed, and she'd seemed to recover herself, she got up and grabbed the wine. She took a small swig, then leaned forward, pressing her lips to Garren's, who was able to taste the exquisite wine. She wrapped her arms around the back of his head, his massive hands resting on her hips, and for once, she was looking down upon him. Just barely. She crawled up onto the bed, one leg on either side of his, her chest pressing against his, as her lips kissed his desperately. He could feel her desire for him to stay in those kisses, and the moment their lips separated, it seemed like she almost broke down right there. She took another, larger swig of the wine, then offered it to him. Golden eyes looked on hers, he took a healthy draft, then set it on the chest at the end of the bed. She reached down to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up his muscled torso, and off his arms. She pushed him back, his torso landing softly against the covers. She followed him down pressing her head against his chest, listening to his powerful heart. A heart that truly belonged to another. She then placed a gentle kiss against his pectoral, then trailing over to the other. She then kissed up his chest to his large shoulders, following the groove up to his jaw. Teasing there, she found his lips once more, her hands clasping the sides of his face, her kisses deepening, longingly. Her breathing began to grow ragged, as his hands crept down her hips, and grabbed the hem of her dress. Slowly, he raised it up over her hips, sneaking up her back, and then quickly over her head and arms, leaving her in all her ivory splendor. He gently placed her dress on a bed post, unlike most men who just threw it where ever. Her naked body pressed against his torso, as she looked down, their gaze meeting. His eyes were full of desire, hers of regret and longing. She snaked her arms behind his head, and began a slight rocking motion, pressing her sex into the expanding front of his breeches. She continued the slow rocking motion, as she sat up, letting his eyes drink in her body, his hands finding her hips once more. He sat up with her, his chest meeting hers, as he began to kiss and nip at her neck, eliciting mews and gasps from the woman. His kissed his way down to a little pink bud, which he teased relentlessly, then did the same to its twin. She moaned, and he could no longer contain himself. Firmly he picked her up and placed her down on her back upon the bed. Her eyes locked on his hands, which began to untie his breeches. He slid them down with his undergarments, her eyes taking in every hard line and tight muscle. His eyes locked on her like a wild cat who'd just cornered its prey. He moved toward her, his hands taking one of her legs and lifted it high. He started a trail of kisses at her ankle, that climbed higher and higher, teasing her the closer to her sex he got, only to switch legs, and kiss his way back down. Then he placed another kiss just above her navel, traveling upward through the valley between her breasts, until his face looked down at hers. His hands firmly grabbed her hips, and with a quick, fluid motion, he thrust into her, evoking a moan of pleasure from her. He kept a steady motion with his thrusts, both of them getting their all from this coupling, breaths ragged. Well past the time he'd paid for, they collapsed in sweaty, exhausted, and sated heap. After laying there for several chimes, Garren got up and dressed, grabbing the wine, finishing it. He went to his coin pouch, pulled out twenty golden mizas, then handed her the still very full pouch. "Take the rest of the night off, and get a good night's sleep. It was really great to have met you Lilac." "Rengar, that's not my real name. Its.." He interrupted her with a finger upon her lips. "It's who you are to me, and how I want to remember you. I hope we meet again one day." He kissed her one last time, stroked her cheek, then turned and left, taking one last swig from the final bottle they'd shared. Making his way downstairs, he sat down at the bar, and paid for two bottles of wine with his remaining mizas, sitting there, reminiscing, hoping to get lost in the alcohol.

[Iskessah]

OOCI will be using one of my NPCs for the first couple of posts, without my PC. I understand I won't get xp for this, but it's the only way it works out plot-wise.

The woman Rengar sat next to at the bar was dressed rather...more... than the ladies of the establishment. Her comfortable yet practical attire suggested she was here more for business than pleasure, though the wisps escaping from her messy bun of auburn hair hinted at a level of stress and worry that she was hard-pressed to hide. She certainly tried to hide it however, when the absurdly blue foreigner sat down next to her. She abruptly cut off the conversation she had been having with the bartender, not willing to let her secrets fall into un-trusted ears. Joshry was partway through his fourteenth year, and Mattieu was pressuring her more and more to cut ties... literally, he often hinted. She was already putting contingency plans into place, but something would have to be done about Mattieu before Joshry would be safe... or as safe as anyone could be in Ravok. With this thoughts in mind, she eyed her new bar-mate. Anyone she involved in her plans would potentially be in danger. So they either had to be discreet, like Jacob Hollywell, or... expendable. Which foreigners were by definition. With new ideas whirling in her head, she bent her mind to the task of how to manipulate this giant blue hulk into aiding her. The woman lamented her seeming inability to pick up the more social aspects of her trade. Despite her teacher sending her time and again to this very House, she had never really picked up the art of seduction, and lies did not spill easily from her lips, so it would be difficult to convince the blue man to be used. Still, he was an obvious foreigner, and no matter how long he had been in the city, he could not have picked up on how things worked in Ravok. She knew a little of what those outside Ravok mistakenly believed, and perhaps she could use that knowledge to manipulate him. Or, perhaps, rather than trying to seduce him, she could simply approach him and let him seduce himself. After all, he was a man in a brothel, and she was not unattractive. She gave him a sidelong glance, and noticed the abundance of alcohol he seemed intent on consuming. Was his tolerance just that good, or did he have troubles to drown? In any case, it seemed like a good opening. "That's an awful lot of wine for just one man. You expecting company, or do you just want to drown your liver?" she gave him her best joking smirk, able at least to hide her disgust at flirting with such an...unnatural creature. "I'm Angela, by the way," she added, offering her hand in greeting.

[Rengar]

Garren was staring down the bottle as he chugged the full bodied red wine, pondering going home to Mura. But he'd he have to travel south to the city of Nyka, maybe stay there for a while, then head to the Isle of White. He missed Nyla terribly, and longed for a woman who knew him, truly so. Halfway through the first bottle, he finally noticed the woman to his left at the bar. She was pretty enough, though clearly not an employee. She looked tired, like someone who'd been running for too long. When she started to speak to him, he didn't even look up from his drink when he replied. "Why would I need to expect company when company finds me?" He held out his wine toward her, "Would you like to join me? And I am Garren, and it is my pleasure to meet a woman whose tastes let her come to a fine establishment like this. You don't find too many of those, at least not in this city." He gently shook her hand, noting how much smaller it was in comparison to his own, then stuck his bottle in it, insistent on her joining him in drink. There was an unwritten rule about bars, and that was patrons were expected to drink with you, and listen to your stories, no matter how dumb, pained, or exaggerated, as long as you did the same.

[Iskessah]

Angela had to struggle to hide her revulsion. It was bad enough having to flirt with strange Ravokians for her work, but allowing this freakish mutant to speak to her as if his compliments held any value... not to mention the way the stranger ignorantly besmirched her beloved city... it was borderline unbearable. Nevertheless, she could not afford to turn away help, especially expendable help. She accepted the bottle, put it to her mouth, and tilted it back until it was upside-down. But she pressed her tongue against the bottle opening, so that while it seemed she was taking a huge swig, none of the alcohol made it down her throat. Still, if she could make enough of a show of loosening her tongue, without letting slip anything she wanted to keep hidden, she might be able to pull off the deception. But what kind of story to tell? Some sort of sob story, to put the foreigner in sympathy with her. It probably wouldn't hurt to play on his ego either. This would require going against every instinct, and acting as though this...vermin were someone she trusted more than anyone else. She was no actress, but perhaps the wine would dull his wits. She could almost hear Mattieu's sneering voice, Show the man a pretty face, and he'll believe what he wants to believe, no matter how bad a liar you are. She placed to bottle on the bar between them, fixing her eyes on the bottle instead of the discolored man. She knew if she looked directly at him, she would never be able to keep her expression free of revulsion. The silence stretched between them, and Angela still had no what she wanted to say. She knew well enough about plots and overarching goals, but she had too little experience in actually putting plans into action to know the finer details. Finally, she forced syllables from her mouth, knowing that the continued silence would be worse than anything she could come up with. "I-it's...not like that..." Dear Rhysol, could he be buying this drivel? She was just pulling words out of her brain and hoping they formed a sentence! And what was with that tremor? It was because she had no confidence in what she was saying, but she came out sounding like a blushing maid! It had been easy enough to approach him when she had a line all prepared, but now she was stumbling blindly, and she prayed to Rhysol the stranger wouldn't notice the change. She kept her gaze downcast, trying to prevent him from reading anything in her face. Thinking quickly, she decided that if a weak voice was all she could manage, she might as well run with it. And, quite out of the blue, she had a brilliant idea. "I...I actually don't usually come here...in fact, this is my first time." Did that sound forced? She thought that sounded a little forced. She couldn't help glancing at the bartender, who knew just how much of a regular she was. Luckily, Jeb was much better than she at hiding what he was thinking. In fact, he was probably used to his patrons lying through their teeth. Figuring it couldn't get any worse, she kept going. "You see, I...I discovered my husband with another woman. I came here intending to get revenge." Maybe the foreigner would assume it was the alcohol loosening her tongue, though to get this talkative after one 'drink' she was probably giving the impression that she was a lightweight. She took another pretend swig, just in case it would help whatever impression she was trying to give.