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<blockquote data-quote="Autumn" data-source="post: 3726850" data-attributes="member: 50015"><p><span style="color: SlateGray">ooc: I don't mind a bit! At least you had the mercy to match her up with an incubus for now instead of a Nalfeshnee or somesuch. <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite7" alt=":p" title="Stick out tongue :p" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":p" /></span></p><p></p><p></p><p> Ysande lies back languidly in the hot, perfumed water of her bath, letting out a deep sigh of relaxation. She closes her eyes and allows herself to drift off for a moment. She had been somewhat afraid that Yangava's military court would be something of a culture shock after the decadence with which Lady Love surrounded herself. She needn't have worried too much - Yangava herself may be just as fearsome and warlike as the stories paint her, but she's still surrounded by the same circles of advisers, ambassadors and hangers-on. And those circles enjoy their creature comforts. So even if the overall atmosphere isn't quite as refined and cultured as the Golden Hills, it's still possible to live in a decent fashion. </p><p></p><p> An hour... one hour to prepare herself to face the Hordemistress in person. The marilith warlord had a score of titles that Ysande could recite, and all of them related to her martial prowess and merciless efficiency. </p><p></p><p> Opening her eyes, Ysande rises from her bath and takes a fluffy towel from the rail on the wall. Drying herself as she goes, she opens the door to her bed chamber and enters. Kaj is seated on the bed, reading. His eyes flash up as she enters and follow her appreciatively as she makes her way across the room to stand in front of the full-length looking glass. She flashes him a smile, and then turns her attention to her reflection in the mirror. Discarding the towel, her eyes run critically over her alabaster skin from head to toe, searching for any unsightly blemishes or flaws. </p><p></p><p> <span style="color: darkred">"You look incredible,"</span> Kaj rumbles from behind her, moving up to lay his hands gently on her shoulders and massage them gently, the points of his claws tracing lightly across her skin. </p><p></p><p> She meets his eyes in the mirror with a wry smile. It makes a good picture, she thinks to herself. Her complexion highlighted against his dark skin, his bulk making her look like a porcelain miniature of herself.</p><p></p><p> <span style="color: plum">"Of course,"</span> she laughs, her hands reaching up to clasp his and draw them around her body. <span style="color: plum">"But you know I have no time to play around. Brush my hair, if you like."</span> </p><p></p><p> The half-fiend gives her a rueful look and then withdraws to fetch a brush. She seats herself on the velvet cushion of a small stool and watches him intently as he comes back and starts to gather up her long, flame-red hair and patiently brush it out to a lustrous sheen.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Autumn, post: 3726850, member: 50015"] [COLOR=SlateGray]ooc: I don't mind a bit! At least you had the mercy to match her up with an incubus for now instead of a Nalfeshnee or somesuch. :p[/COLOR] Ysande lies back languidly in the hot, perfumed water of her bath, letting out a deep sigh of relaxation. She closes her eyes and allows herself to drift off for a moment. She had been somewhat afraid that Yangava's military court would be something of a culture shock after the decadence with which Lady Love surrounded herself. She needn't have worried too much - Yangava herself may be just as fearsome and warlike as the stories paint her, but she's still surrounded by the same circles of advisers, ambassadors and hangers-on. And those circles enjoy their creature comforts. So even if the overall atmosphere isn't quite as refined and cultured as the Golden Hills, it's still possible to live in a decent fashion. An hour... one hour to prepare herself to face the Hordemistress in person. The marilith warlord had a score of titles that Ysande could recite, and all of them related to her martial prowess and merciless efficiency. Opening her eyes, Ysande rises from her bath and takes a fluffy towel from the rail on the wall. Drying herself as she goes, she opens the door to her bed chamber and enters. Kaj is seated on the bed, reading. His eyes flash up as she enters and follow her appreciatively as she makes her way across the room to stand in front of the full-length looking glass. She flashes him a smile, and then turns her attention to her reflection in the mirror. Discarding the towel, her eyes run critically over her alabaster skin from head to toe, searching for any unsightly blemishes or flaws. [color=darkred]"You look incredible,"[/color] Kaj rumbles from behind her, moving up to lay his hands gently on her shoulders and massage them gently, the points of his claws tracing lightly across her skin. She meets his eyes in the mirror with a wry smile. It makes a good picture, she thinks to herself. Her complexion highlighted against his dark skin, his bulk making her look like a porcelain miniature of herself. [color=plum]"Of course,"[/color] she laughs, her hands reaching up to clasp his and draw them around her body. [color=plum]"But you know I have no time to play around. Brush my hair, if you like."[/color] The half-fiend gives her a rueful look and then withdraws to fetch a brush. She seats herself on the velvet cushion of a small stool and watches him intently as he comes back and starts to gather up her long, flame-red hair and patiently brush it out to a lustrous sheen. [/QUOTE]
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