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 Posted: Thu Feb 14, 2013 1:06 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd Of all the things Marltok was expecting from the slave, simply giving up and walking off was not one of them. At first he gave a growl of annoyance but then something hit him: the drow had had a rough twenty-four hours. To Marltok's knowledge Quilzar had been poisoned, interrupted with his goddess, had his tongue bifurcated, spent a night with Lolth, woken to being tended by his master, had a hang over, admitted he was not a worthy swordmaster, been forced to continue and now his cover had been blown by a creature of lesser intellect (not that Marltok was going to admit that out loud). Sure, Marltok had known Quilzar had been through a lot but it hadn't actually occurred to him the drow's behaviour was because he wasn't coping. It hadn't occurred to Marltok that the man would crack.
Giving a grunt, the half-goblin followed and caught up to the drow before he ever set foot in the forest behind the dojo. There were apologies to made and mistakes to admit. How in Pithys' names he was going to do that? Marltok had no idea. The drow was... sensitive.
Marltok grabbed the drow's wrist and stood fast. He didn't yank the man's arm but he wasn't being soft either. There was a frown on his face as he studied the man. If Quilzar were to turn around he'd look directly into the slave's eyes. He was looking for something, but he didn't know what exactly. He knew a bit on how to read people from working with hostiles. One had to be able to predict what they would do. Quilzar was better than that though. Marltok was sure Quilzar could fake whatever emotion he wanted.
'This is the second time I've gone too far,' he said finally. He wasn't quite sure how to phrase this. 'Our studying session does not end until 1830 hours. You are not to go back to your room until that time. You are to go for a ten minute walk then return to the dojo. I will not trouble you but I expect you to work on your sequences until then.'
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Posted: Thu Feb 14, 2013 2:47 am
 He heard Marltok heading after him, not that he cared. It didn't surprise him that he felt a strong hand around his delicately sized wrist. He didn't turn his head to look at the goblin. He kept his face stoic; the only indication of any emotion that he had was the deep-scarlet tint he still had in his eyes. He jerked his wrist away when Marltok was finished. He cared not for the goblin's apology, nor for his orders. Nevertheless, he nodded and went away towards the forest. Though he was fatigued, he started jogging towards the forest, not caring about his screaming muscles. Fortunately, it didn't seem to take that long before he reached the shade underneath the speckled canopy.
Once his eyes were under the protected shade, he fell to his knees and bent his head towards the ground. Now he wished that he'd never agreed to teach the goblin a damned thing. It screwed with his whole plan, it made him vulnerable. Cursing to himself, he had the urge to envelope himself in something mind numbing. As his eyes adjusted, he looked around on the ground and a small smile opened up, pleased with what he saw. A cluster of smooth white mounds that sat about an inch above the leaf covered ground on smooth white stems. Mushrooms. He didn't feel like identifying the species at the moment, but they would come in handy anyways.
He started marking the spots with faerie fire, a light only he could see, so that he could come back for them later. It would be highly inconvenient to have to find the little clusters all over again. At least, that's what Quil told himself. He just didn't want to go back to the dojo.
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Posted: Thu Feb 14, 2013 6:59 pm
Thistle sat in a tree watching the little scene in front of her. It was like a car crash: exciting and you couldn’t look away. It seemed the funny looking, brown-haired creature had upset the sexy, silver-haired midget. The black skinned nightshade tilted forward in her tree branch and giggled when she saw the midget pull away from the funny looking one’s grip. The funny looking one grunted, watched the midget run away and walked back to the dojo. Oooo… he looked frustrated. It wasn’t the funny one that Thistle was interested in though.
The nightshade disappeared in a swirl of black smoke and silently reappeared in a tree not far behind where the sexy one had fallen to his knees. That was curious. Had the big bad green-skin bullied his smooth-skinned partner? Was it a lovers' tiff? Had the master punished the slave? What had happened? Thistle watched a while before appearing right in front of her sexy new toy. She was well within his personal space and had a delighted smile upon her pitch black face. She looked like a kitten who had found a mouse to play with. In the end the mouse would either have a heart attack or be eaten but a kitten did so with a look of mirth upon its face.
‘Why so sad, Sexy Man?’ she asked. ‘You look like you could use a little relief.’
Of course, by “relief” Thistle actually meant she was going to have a little sexy time with this small and handsome creature. It didn’t occur to her that he was gay or that he might not be interested. Everyone was interested in Thistle! With her luscious, dark looks and the gentle curve of her body she was downright exotic. The scars of her pirating days and the subtle aroma of the oils she massaged into her skin just made her more of an enigma. Top it all off with the perky little breasts that weren’t hidden by any shirt and, well, there was no possible way her sexy new toy wouldn’t find her attractive. Of course he’d fall to his knees again and beg her to take him!
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Posted: Thu Feb 14, 2013 11:41 pm
At first, Quil's nerves were too frayed to notice anything. Then as he started looking around for mushrooms and other herbs, he noticed something strange. He wasn't sure what it was, but it moved lightly. It was so light that it was hard to hear, even with his keen ears. It was hard to determine where it was going. Suddenly the whatever it was appeared right in front of him. He jerked back, a dagger seemed to appear in his hand and he crouched lightly before he realized two things. First, she had said something. Second, she was an unclothed female. Well, half unclothed.
His dagger went to his side and his eyes went down as he knelt on one knee. He didn't look at her long enough to glean any fine details, but he knew she was black-skinned, not unlike the females in the Underdark. And she had scars. Which didn't surprise him anyways. He tried to remember what the female had said as he realized how vulnerable he felt without his shirt on. Ah, yes, now he remembered. Mostly at least, there was a query about his melancholy, and a half-offer, half-order. He wasn't quite sure about that last bit.
"It is nothing, Mistress. This one's troubles are not worthy enough to worry yourself over. You need not worry about this one's relief." Mustering as much respect as he could, he responded to the female. He wasn't sure why she was even speaking to him. He knew he should feel honored, but somehow he just felt exposed. The Drow wished for this conversation to end, and end quickly.
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Posted: Fri Feb 15, 2013 1:42 am
What a flighty, frightened little creature he was! Behaviour like that made her wonder if he was one of the pets in this place. Thistle gave a light, tingling laugh as the man went down to his knee. Well, she'd been half right. She supposed she would have to take it the other half of the way. Her cheeks flushed a slightly lighter shade of black and she covered her lips with the tips of her fingers. Oh, what a delightful little treasure she'd found! She crouched down in front of him and lifted his chin so she could see his face properly. She had no idea what type of creature he was, but he looked so mysterious. Her finger trailed down his neck then back and forth across his clavicals. Such skin, such smooth skin. Even the scars on his body and the blood on his arm did nothing to shame it. To Thistle, the appearance of scars just made someone more exciting. It told of stories and wonder. People with unmarked bodies were often far too dull to trail with.
'You poor little dear. You didn't have to get down on your knee for little old me. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty. I'll do the rest,' she said softly. As Thistle spoke her fingertips trailed lower down his body to his chest. Such a handsome and fascinating body shouldn't go to waste. It should be shared and enjoyed, as he should enjoy it too.
'Does your master beat you? Is that why you ran away?' she asked, her black eyes flicking to the wounds on his arm. She very much enjoyed wondering what the man had done wrong. There was some sort of sword on his belt but the marks on his arm didn't look like fighting wounds. They were too regular and there wasn't any other sign of struggle on his body. She picked up his hand in both of hers and looked over the cuts. They were very cleanly cut, which was a little odd in her experience. She moved his hand towards her so she could kiss it better then gave him a smile as if to say "see, it wasn't so hard."
Those nimble fingers reached out gingerly and stoked along his cheek. Rather, they pretended to move gingerly. She cupped his adorable face and smiled at him. She would talk to him a little while and guide him through it as though this was his first time. He seemed quick to startle. After all, he had pulled out a dagger before going to the ground. She watched to see what he would do. If she followed her lead it meant he was willing. If he pushed her off it meant no. Anything in between just made things all the more enticing. It would mean "this one" was shy and needed coaxing. However it went she would make sure she gave the man the relief she'd offered.
Meanwhile, a little moth in a tiny Gatsby was fanning its wings on a nearby mound of leaf litter. It was gathering information to use in its latest operation - Operation Weapons Master.
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Posted: Fri Feb 15, 2013 2:38 am
 Glancing up from the fight and its results when a curious newcomer began questioning one of them the mutation scratched the back of his head in silent thought, this was all pretty bizarre to him still but the new woman seemed a return to the flirtatious women who frequented this place. He was still getting used to the mass of races and species that he'd never suspected existed but at this point it seemed best to just run with it and forget about asking questions. He was probably one of the most unusual things here so he probably inspired just as many questions in others.
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