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Salem

Ava_44 said:
Smiles, admiring Roxy as she writhes. "Well, we'll get to me in a minute or two" I say, as a second finger enters your wetness, and I kiss down her breasts, down her taught stomach, down to her thighs. I kiss either thigh, as my tongue replaces my thumb on Roxy's clit, encircling and sucking on it.
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Roxy gasped and moaned. This elf knew what she was doing! Roxy tangled her fingers in the elf's hair, and began to grind against her fingers. "Oh thank you Mistress! You don't know how good it feels to be with someone skilled!" Roxy moaned, her pleasure rising.
 
adonisjon said:
James enjoyed the way Melody squirmed in his arms as he carried her down the stairs. As he kissed, licked and sucked her he could taste and smell her desire growing and as a result, his cock started to harden as well. His tongue flitted over the tips of her ears and then pressed inside her as a preview of his desire to press inside her elsewhere. He nibbled down her neck as his fingers grazed over her exposed skin as he carried her.



James grinned as her desire grew. He whispered into her ear, his tongue grazing the edges...

"Price doesn't matter....I'll just take the first open one I find, shall I?" And then he nibbled her earlobe and continued down the stairs, squeezing her body close against his chest as he carried her along.

On reaching the downstairs landing, he saw a number of doors lining the hall. Many were closed but a few were slightly ajar. He found the first open room on the right and pushed the door open with his foot, pivoting to carry her through without bumping her on the walls. As they entered the room, rows of candles sprang magically to life as well as a few torches hanging on the wall. The room was filled only sparsely...a bed, a large chair, and a corner full of various toys and other objects for adventurous endeavors.

James kicked the door closed behind him and carried Melody over to the bed. She felt so good in his arms, he didn't want to let her down. He sucked and nibbled the side of her neck one more time then laid her on the bed, running his hands up her body...sliding along the backs of her thighs to raise her skirt and expose her panties, his fingertips sliding barely underneath. His other hand slid up her back and with a flick of the fingers, he unclasped her bra and then brought his hand around to cup her breast and pinch her nipple. He leaned down and sucked her other nipple up into his mouth, nibbling with his lips and twirling his tongue over it. His other hand spread to gently press her thighs apart and he tapped his fingertips along the bottom of her moistened panties.

He looked up at her face to see the desire in her eyes...

"These seem wet...let's get them off, shall we?"

With a grin, he wrapped his fingers around her panties, his fingertips grazing her wet pussy and then he pulled the panties down by the center, tearing them slightly as his other hand went to the waist to help slide them off her legs.
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Melody couldn't think. The human was carrying her around and licking her ears. She should be paying him! Melody couldn't take the teasing anymore. She reached down and began to rub herself through her soaked panties as he carried her down the stairs. It felt so good! Her mind was a blur of pleasure. She was so close. Yes... Yes! YES... No!

Melody let out a loud whine as she was placed onto the bed. She'd been so close! She vaguely felt him strip her out of her clothes. He said something. What? She didn't know what. "No." She whined, trying to climb back into his arms. She never wanted to set foot on the ground again. She just wanted to be held up by those big powerful human arms. She didn't care that she'd just broken the biggest rule in the club, saying 'no' to a client, she just wanted back into his arms.

Melody stood up on the bed and walked towards him, but her feet tangled in her panties and she fell forward. Right into his chest. She moaned as he caught her in his big strong arms again. She began to rub her face on his chest, purring like a cat. "Not bed. Fuck me here." She begged, her pleasure addled mind incapable of forming a rational sentence.
 
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Aliceinchains36 said:
"Guide you where? Are you here to drink and relax, or do you want something more?"
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He looks at her and smiled. He knew and had heard of the services of Salem and it was about time he would enjoy those services himself as well.

"Well a drink sounds nice and relaxing would be great but I don't want to drink alone I want something more to happen as well it's been far to long since I've been with someone so yeah drinking would be nice but I'd like to have some company in case I want to take her to a room. Is that possible ?" he asks.

He also knew that this place provided companions as well and he might would have to check those out as well before he went back to traveling there might be something worth buying and taking with him.
For now either his mind was set on drinking and on pleasure and he looked back over Veronica.
 
Aliceinchains36 said:
Roxy gasped and moaned. This elf knew what she was doing! Roxy tangled her fingers in the elf's hair, and began to grind against her fingers. "Oh thank you Mistress! You don't know how good it feels to be with someone skilled!" Roxy moaned, her pleasure rising.
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Mirieth begins to move her two fingers in and out faster, as she rubs her tongue upon Roxy's clit, sucking and twisting it in her mouth. She begins to move more vigorously, her nose sometimes brushing her pleasure. She grins, as she summons hands to move across Roxy's body, caressing her breasts and nipples, as she squirms in them.
 
Aliceinchains36 said:
"No."
...
Melody stood up on the bed and walked towards him, but her feet tangled in her panties and she fell forward. Right into his chest. She moaned as he caught her in his big strong arms again. She began to rub her face on his chest, purring like a cat. "Not bed. Fuck me here." She begged, her pleasure addled mind incapable of forming a rational sentence.
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James chuckled softly at Melody as she practically jumped back into his arms and chest. The smell and feeling of her against him was powerful. She continued rubbing herself against him while he held her. He moved his hands back and forth along her body, his fingertips sliding up her legs, pressing her skirt aside and tracing up along the edges of her panties feeling along the damp edges.

He leaned his face down and kissed the top of her head as it rubbed over his chest. Her hands and face against his chest was intoxicating and he loved the sounds and feeling of her desire growing against him.

"Mmmmm...you are certainly eager, aren't you little one? And very tasty. Very well, help me get my pants off and we'll find out if I press apart your insides or not."

He pivoted Melody in his arms so she was facing down towards his hips. In this position, he was able to cup and squeeze one of her breasts. Very ample for a halfling. Hell, they were ample for a human girl but Melody's size made them seem even larger than they were. As he squeezed her breast, he began licking up her thigh that he held in front of his face, sucking and nibbling the soft muscle of her leg, trailing his tongue higher and higher then nuzzling his nose against her wet panties to press them slightly aside and expose just the edge of her juicy lips. As her hands found his belt, James trailed his tongue up and down the edges of her lips.

"How're those pants coming darling? You seem ready to take me into you...I'd hate to keep you waiting."
 
Newcomer for Pleasaure

Slightly thick charcoal eyebrows framed dark indigo-amethyst irises. His olive-caramel skin was stretched taut over lean, tense muscle. The nineteen year old youth wore a pair of baggy black sweatpants cinched shut by the dark blue Spartan style sandals he wore. He also wore a dark reddish bronze vest as well as a pair of tantos crossed at the small of his back, one angled left, the other right for easy drawing. His dark reddish auburn hair was long, wild, and curly, its raven tips seemingly dipped in ink. He exhaled softly, his gaze scanning around the club. "Wonder if there are interested... women," he whispered, his deep, low voice seemingly rumbling like a distant storm.

He was very aware that he was well endowed physically, as it was why he'd chosen to take a leave from the military of his distant home village. He took a soft breath, knowing the hooded cloak hid much of his body, though he didn't like it. He was regarded as a 'freak' due to not having the same particular energy that most of the military held in his home village: his energy and powers were much more... unusual. Despite the elder who had kidnapped him at the age of six before he'd escaped at seven and a half, he'd found the man had been unable to replicate his particular gifts. He had both mental and more than a few physical scars from that old man's 'group'.
 
Aliceinchains36 said:
Tonight Abigail Williams is making a rare appearance. Sitting in her throne in the roped off V.I.P. section of the lounge sipping a goblet of wine, she watches her patrons enjoy her club. Kneeling on the floor beside her, is Abigail's favorite pet, Bella. The mermaid sits silently, her naturally sad face doing its best to stay expressionless. Abigail's other favorite pet, Roxy, wanders the main floor, chatting, flirting, and making sure all of the patrons are happy.

OOC: Go! I'm done, everyone can post now! But I am probably going to bed soon, so don't expect an instant response.
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OOC: I'm bored and I've decided to resurrect this thread. So everything above the quoted post from page one is the same. Everything after it, just ignore it. This is basically a soft reboot of this thread. So feel free to post, I'll respond in about 12 hours. Goodnight to anyone reading this. :kiss:
 
Mera was a Protector of the forest and seldom came to places as such. But having heard of the place her curiosity was peeked after all. Standing at 5ft 3 and a rather athletic build, grey eyes and long wavy blond hair that would hide her pointed ears somewhat.

Yup Mera wasn't a human at all she was an elven bounty hunter that used her abilities to her own gain. Her abilities being and having paladin powers but she relied on her mechanical tools as well to do her handy work. She would have wandered to one of the hidden entrances and spoke the words " Salem " to gain access.

She wasn't sure what to expect but she was looking for something or someone.Entering one of the entrances she would just step through it and followed the normal way and route as she wasn't sure what she would find she made sure the boots she was wearing would leave a nice ticking sound onto the floor she was walking on and would cough out as she went towards where the noise came from " Hello there anyone around in this place ?3 she asked to nobody in specific but spoke with a loud and clear voice
 

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The elf's voice was drowned out by the heavy thrum of the bass, and the hypnotically beautiful wailing of the tiefling singer, as the band played away on the stage. Salem was loud and crowded as usual, no patrons looking twice at the elf, a normal sight in the magical crossroad that was Salem.

After a few minutes a haggard looking goblin with fiery red hair approached the elf woman. "Hello, welcome to Salem, where fantasy becomes reality. How may I service you?" The goblin asked, her high yet scratchy voice sounding bored from reciting the line countless times over the course of the evening.
 

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Mera would remain standing there znd would take it all in. The various patrons and species , the wailing noises from the singer and the scent that filled the air and her nostrils. She nobofy paying attention to her at first and was glad with that she didn't need all the attenion and such.

When the goblin came towards her a smirk would plague her lipd and she heard the ramblings of the little creature happen and going on.

"Well first of all I would love to have a drink and food , I'm weary, tired and hungry" she said somewhat and hezrd the annoyance in her voice as she looked her over.

"If you have elven wine that be awesome and if it isn't to much of a bother you should try to relax more or enjoy a good joke and laugh" she said as she reached out with a delicate formed hand and booped her nose
 
What slithers from the sulfur-scented shadows of the second floor is a nightmarish thing; a thing like a serpent, but its scales are smooth, intertwined arms, their palms pushing it along with seamless alabaster strength. In the gaps of the elbows and wrists, a wicker interior of some black and sinuous wood can be seen. Mounted atop this monstrous body is the torso of a man with its heart gouged out, replaced with a heliotrope that shudders and beats an arcane pulse within its clear cage of glass. Its head is like a man's, but the proportions are subtly off, just enough to disconcert the casual viewer, and a mane of luxurious black hair shifts and flutters about it, borne on a breeze both intangible and fickle, flickering strands from side to side unpredictably.

As he moves towards a low-slung couch to the side, he tugs on a slim gold chain, and from the same shadow stumbles a naked form of a young woman, her ample body nude, heavy breasts jiggling with her uneven pace. A silk mask covers her face and seals a ball gag in her mouth with a glimmering moonstone set inside, and her hands are bound behind her with red cord; she can do nothing but blindly follow the tuggings of the leash, as the monstrous creature curls up on the couch with a pleased hum like a stirred hive of bees.

This abomination is Harrow, the warlock; master-in-residence of the Red Academy, a school for the witching arts. Only the foolish and the bold come, but it's still quite a crop to harvest, and those that fail are enslaved and put to use, like this poor specimen he's brought with him: a failed witch, her magic sealed and her soul taken and bound in a gem, forever enslaved to her owner's will.

Harrow idly runs one long finger over the moonstone in the gag, then watches the slave girl shudder in delight. Her tongue presses against the cloth, straining, and barely manages to brush the inlaid gem with the soft fabric of her mask. Her legs tremble and nearly give out, and a fresh drop of liquid rolls down her thigh from her fluttering pussy.

Entertaining.

Reclining, the unhallowed warlock awaits Abigail, already sure the accomplished witch has noted his entrance; he's done good business with her in the past, and if not, there's sure to be a buyer somewhere within this place of deals for such a thoroughly owned slave.
 
The pressure shifted, the air growing a little heavier in the club. Anyone with even the slightest hint of magical prowess could sense, it, for the warlock wasn't a man, and to a witch as powerful as Abigail Williams, this creature's presence was as obvious as the moon in the sky.

Roxy was at Abigail's side in less than a minute. "I know darling," Abigail said to her favorite slave before Roxy could even speak. "See yourself and Bella out. I'll be dealing with him personally," Before Roxy could respond, Abigail was gone.

Abigail snapped her fingers, and her high backed ebony throne appeared before Harrow in a cloud of purple smoke. She looked over the aberration, a smirk on her plump ruby lips. She took a sip of wine, her purple eyes never moving away from the warlock before her. After a minute, she finally spoke, her voice low and cool.

"Harrow." She practically purred his name, "I'm conflicted Harrow. I'm not sure if I should kiss you or kill you. Either way it's been much too long," Abigail finished her wine with a final long sip, before smashing the goblet on the floor. The glass cut into the floor, revealing a long spiral staircase made of black stone. "Whatever happens, it won't do to let it play out up here. My throne room is a much better place to conduct business..." She stood up, her throne melting into the floor as soon as she moved. She sauntered down the stairs, her hips swaying seductively with every step. She disappeared down the tunnel, not bothering to turn back and see if the warlock was following, she knew he would.
 
"Abigail," Harrow replies. His voice is, as ever, rocky and rough, hoarse, with the soft sigh of wind through his wicker interior slipping in behind every word. Not merely shaped with mortal, meat lungs anymore, his voice grinds and grips at reality with each word. There is a poisonous cheerfulness to his tone. "You never bore me."

More honest than usual, he is.

He rises up on his supplicative mass and flows forward and down the stairs. Soft, unbreakable fingers pillow his weight into silent agility as he descends them at a casual slither, following behind the formidable witch. "Auns declared that my little academy intruded upon his domain. That was delightful, but he eventually stopped trying to hunt my good students. I suppose he might have gotten his fill of the chattel."

Amy, also known as Auns, Hanni, and Hanar; the fifty-eighth of the seventy-two demons of the Goetia, master of the arts and corrupted angel. A formidable opponent, indeed, but one whose weaknesses are known and his bindings published. Good students would know the ways by which to avoid the ire of such a spriit - at the Red Academy, the good students are the ones that learn to struggle, cheat, lie, and survive. Such a foe is a fine final exam.

The golden filigree of the chain pulls the slave girl after him, and he lightly tugs on it to hasten her stumbling steps. "Now," Harrow says, "The semester is out, and my attention can turn to the prodigals again. You're always so fascinatingly contradictory."

A witch's watchword is caution; balancing the spirits she has contracted with against each other, delaying the bargains she can't afford to pay and trading upon her gathered power to scrabble out a little more from the dross. Abigail had leapt far ahead of the pack of her peers and ascended into something entirely unique, and Harrow himself is nothing if not solicitous of those he calls equal.

"No interesting challenges?" he says, glancing about the sanctum of the witch's throne room. "I - hmm. Ah."

The great abomination lifts his head and sniffs. Red stirs in the air, a faint dust, a remnant of a thing slain and taken, consumed.

"I stand corrected," Harrow says, laughter whistling through the wicker as he grins wide, wider than a human can, the red gape splitting up through his cheeks all the way to the base of his ears. In the void of that empty, red-lined mouth starlight glimmers in the far distance. "Bravo, Abigail."
 
"Aus is a fifth rate mage on his best day. No wonder your students are so easy to kill," Abigail said dismissively. "And the only reason you find me so interesting is because I never bothered to waste time at your school learning petty magic tricks. I could outmatch half of your graduates before I was twenty. But that's because I taught myself. No classrooms or lessons. I translated ancient texts. I forced Fae to reveal their secrets to me! I stole spells from crypts built for dead races, dueled wizards who clutched their spell books like a mother to her babe! I've killed gods, and destroyed entire realms! All this, while your lot takes any brain dead conjurer who thinks having a familiar is special, teaches him a hex or two, and then says he's a sorcerer! HA! Your academy is the reason magic is in the state it's in now! I keep the old ways alive, while you spit on our ancestors!"

Abigail's voice rose in anger, until her rage reached a crescendo. With her eyes glowing bright purple, she screamed a word in a forgotten language, and thirty-three bolts of energy, each one a different color, spewed from her mouth. The energy shot forward, and began to spin around Harrow, forming a multicolored barrier around him. The barrier collapsed in on the warlock, exploding in a brilliant flash of light.

Abigail waited a moment for the smoke to clear, before letting out a long sigh. "Drat, I was hoping that would kill you," she said, looking at Harrow. "Well, at least most of your wards are down. But my spell needs some work. No matter. Wine?" Two goblets of wine appeared in the air, one floated towards Harrow, stopping a few inches away from him, while the other followed Abigail to her throne.

"So Harrow," Abgial took a seat and a long draft of wine, "Why have you come to me? I see you come bearing gifts. Perhaps you've discovered that I currently have something of yours in my possession," Abigail smirked and swirled the dark red liquid in her glass, "Or perhaps... You didn't know. Tell me, when did you last see Johnette?" Abigail took another sip of wine and smiled, looking like a cat with a mouse in her claws.
 
Ashleyyy said:
Mera would remain standing there znd would take it all in. The various patrons and species , the wailing noises from the singer and the scent that filled the air and her nostrils. She nobofy paying attention to her at first and was glad with that she didn't need all the attenion and such.

When the goblin came towards her a smirk would plague her lipd and she heard the ramblings of the little creature happen and going on.

"Well first of all I would love to have a drink and food , I'm weary, tired and hungry" she said somewhat and hezrd the annoyance in her voice as she looked her over.

"If you have elven wine that be awesome and if it isn't to much of a bother you should try to relax more or enjoy a good joke and laugh" she said as she reached out with a delicate formed hand and booped her nose
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"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm a slave in a magical brothel. It's a little bit hard to be cheery," The goblin grumbled. She walked off towards the bar, and returned a few moments later with a tray piled high with steamed vegetables and mushrooms, a large fruit tart, and a goblet filled with blue elvish wine. "Anything else?" the goblin asked.
 
Harrow reaches up with one hand and pops up a little flare of white light. It pulses once with arcane energy; then the thirty-three bolts rush in and abruptly alter course, crashing into the flare with dimension-cracking force. Spacetime warps under the strain of the magical tides involved as the warlock weaves the disparate energies into each other with a violet streak of warpfire. Then the entire arcane maelstrom collapses under its own weight with a muted boom, spitting a light rain of ectoplasm over the entire room.

"Ah, Abigail," Harrow sighs with real pleasure, one hand flicking away the ambient slime from his face, even as the quintessence evaporates from existence. "You're still such a rabid, silly bitch with no finesse. I missed you."

Completely unoffended by the murder attempt, Harrow takes the goblet up in one hand and sips it. "Dear, if you think I run the Academy to teach people, then you've missed the point entirely. You're spending too much time with the humans."

The great serpent's body coils up to one side of the throne room, the hand-scales shifting and shaping - each arm curving subtly and the fingers flicking as they sign and gesture in concert at a rate that violently eclipses what any human is capable of. Birdsong chirps and soars, the high shriek of a thrush as its heart bursts, and the floor shimmers and softens into blades of grass that he settles into with a happy sigh.

"If Johnette was fool enough to move within your reach and not contract with me for protection, then she deserves her fate," Harrow replies with a gallic shrug, unbothered by the vicious threat. "Not that selling herself to me would, ultimately, lead to such a different fate. I assume you have her thralled somewhere down here. No; I come to see you to remind myself of why I so thoroughly thresh my classes."

The slave girl had cringed away during the brief arcane encounter, her very soul screaming at her to escape, and now Harrow tugs her forward by the leash and takes hold of her neck, drawing her up into the air with casually monstrous strength. Her feet begin to kick as she fights for air, gasping into the ball gag, and then Harrow points upward and suspends a dot of light in the air, and simply leaves the slave girl to swing from it; idly raising a hand under her feet on occasion to give her a chance to gasp in some air. Even as she chokes on the leash, its silk softness never cuts into or even reddens her skin, magically soft.
 
Aliceinchains36 said:
"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm a slave in a magical brothel. It's a little bit hard to be cheery," The goblin grumbled. She walked off towards the bar, and returned a few moments later with a tray piled high with steamed vegetables and mushrooms, a large fruit tart, and a goblet filled with blue elvish wine. "Anything else?" the goblin asked.
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Mera would look up as she vaguely saw and more so felt someone or something enter but shortly felt that presence fade somewhat and didn't paid to much attention to it anymore as she caught the owner of the club disappearing. Sighing somewhat in her self she hoped she would come back as she was curious to see if she could have at some point have a conversation with the well know legendary figure and saw to her amusement the goblin return with food and drinks.

Looking her over and the platter she was carrying she would smirk as there was elven wine and a good one so it smelled and would notice the fruity dessert , steamed vegetables and mushrooms and would reach it out , quickly but elegantly nontheless as she placed it onto the table and would look at her.

Well i get that your a slave here in this club but it could be worse i suppose " she said and would look at her.

" yes there is something else ....Dine with me I am in need of some company tonight " she said and would look towards the goblin curious as to what she would do and just hummed a bit " you like mushrooms and vegetables to or do you prefer something else ?" she said as she tried to be nice but still in such a way there could be no doubt she was a patron
 
Obuzeti said:
Harrow reaches up with one hand and pops up a little flare of white light. It pulses once with arcane energy; then the thirty-three bolts rush in and abruptly alter course, crashing into the flare with dimension-cracking force. Spacetime warps under the strain of the magical tides involved as the warlock weaves the disparate energies into each other with a violet streak of warpfire. Then the entire arcane maelstrom collapses under its own weight with a muted boom, spitting a light rain of ectoplasm over the entire room.

"Ah, Abigail," Harrow sighs with real pleasure, one hand flicking away the ambient slime from his face, even as the quintessence evaporates from existence. "You're still such a rabid, silly bitch with no finesse. I missed you."

Completely unoffended by the murder attempt, Harrow takes the goblet up in one hand and sips it. "Dear, if you think I run the Academy to teach people, then you've missed the point entirely. You're spending too much time with the humans."

The great serpent's body coils up to one side of the throne room, the hand-scales shifting and shaping - each arm curving subtly and the fingers flicking as they sign and gesture in concert at a rate that violently eclipses what any human is capable of. Birdsong chirps and soars, the high shriek of a thrush as its heart bursts, and the floor shimmers and softens into blades of grass that he settles into with a happy sigh.

"If Johnette was fool enough to move within your reach and not contract with me for protection, then she deserves her fate," Harrow replies with a gallic shrug, unbothered by the vicious threat. "Not that selling herself to me would, ultimately, lead to such a different fate. I assume you have her thralled somewhere down here. No; I come to see you to remind myself of why I so thoroughly thresh my classes."

The slave girl had cringed away during the brief arcane encounter, her very soul screaming at her to escape, and now Harrow tugs her forward by the leash and takes hold of her neck, drawing her up into the air with casually monstrous strength. Her feet begin to kick as she fights for air, gasping into the ball gag, and then Harrow points upward and suspends a dot of light in the air, and simply leaves the slave girl to swing from it; idly raising a hand under her feet on occasion to give her a chance to gasp in some air. Even as she chokes on the leash, its silk softness never cuts into or even reddens her skin, magically soft.
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"And you, Harrow, have an overly high opinion of yourself. Regardless of what you think you are, you will always be an educator, first and foremost," Abigail replied. She raised her hand in the air, and produced a small white flare, exactly like the one Harrow had just summoned. "See Harrow? You can't help but give free lessons wherever you slither. And you say I lack finesse," Abigail laughed, and dismissed the mote of light.

Abigail watched as Harrow slithered closer to the throne, summoned a circle of grass that he settled down on. Abigail looked at the grass in distaste, and snapped her fingers. The grass disappeared, and a large purple cushion appeared underneath the warlock. "Really Harrow? Stooping to nature magic to surpas my wards?" Abigail wondered how he was casting spells in her throne room period. She decided she didn't need to address that particular elephant, if worse came to worse she was confident that she could counter anything he threw at her.

"So, you don't want Johnette back at all? I always thought she was one of your favorites. I suppose I was wrong. In any case, I'm not satisfied with your answer. I'm not reminding you of anything, other than my superior wine cellar. No, you want something. And I assume it has something to do with that bait you're dangling in front of my nose. Really, of anyone in the world to accuse me of lacking subtlety, it's you," she sipped her wine, before rolling her eyes and sighing, "But fine. I will admit I'm somewhat curious. Go on, tell me what you're after."
 
Ashleyyy said:
Mera would look up as she vaguely saw and more so felt someone or something enter but shortly felt that presence fade somewhat and didn't paid to much attention to it anymore as she caught the owner of the club disappearing. Sighing somewhat in her self she hoped she would come back as she was curious to see if she could have at some point have a conversation with the well know legendary figure and saw to her amusement the goblin return with food and drinks.

Looking her over and the platter she was carrying she would smirk as there was elven wine and a good one so it smelled and would notice the fruity dessert , steamed vegetables and mushrooms and would reach it out , quickly but elegantly nontheless as she placed it onto the table and would look at her.

Well i get that your a slave here in this club but it could be worse i suppose " she said and would look at her.

" yes there is something else ....Dine with me I am in need of some company tonight " she said and would look towards the goblin curious as to what she would do and just hummed a bit " you like mushrooms and vegetables to or do you prefer something else ?" she said as she tried to be nice but still in such a way there could be no doubt she was a patron
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"Fine," the goblin said, climbing into seat opposite the elf. "No, I like meat. I just assumed you didn't since you're an elf. Most elves won't touch meat," the goblin said.
 
"I am a student, first and foremost," Harrow corrects with a blissful smile that closes his eyes with the wide corners of his mouth. There's something sharklike in the dilation of his jaws, too square and wide and muscular near the cheekbones. "I prefer to learn. I just have to get everyone else to the point where they have something worth learning, first. You've always been a long-term project, in that regard, but I have patience."

The cushion feathers, and roots sprout, slowly, from its satin surface; their thready tendrils filtering from between Harrow's scales to settle into the cushion with thirsty need, plunging deep and threading through. The grass itself is gone, but the generating animi continues to flourish, self-sustaining weakly from the ambient radiation of Abigail's own magical signature - like a virus; like a parasite. It germinates in the wake of her apocalyptic wrath.

Harrow doesn't address the magical phenomenon at all, though. Instead he matches Abigail's gaze with a cheerful eye, flat and black and empty, without iris, doll-like and deep as the black of space. "Johnette does amazing work with catoptromancy, but her need for a reflective focus and crippling phobias have always hobbled her. I'm confident I can carry on her work in her stead satisfactorily. No, I brought you something else - much more your area of expertise than mine."

He tugs at the slave's collar again, dangling her about three feet above the ground now. She's hung there for almost a minute, and hasn't slowed her struggles in the least. "This is Carianna MacIslely, and she somehow managed to turn herself into an isotope of banshee I've never encountered before. She subvocalizes and in some cases can effect her shriek through vibration only. I watched her kill three test subjects with morse code through a magic-impermeable cell wall. It's fascinating. I had to seal her head three times, her soul into a gem, and suspend her off the floor when she gets agitated or she'll launch thanatophilic rhythms through it."

The flailing slave doesn't look that dangerous from where she hangs, but clearly suffocation isn't a major issue to her either, and on closer observation her heart isn't beating in her chest at all.

"I mostly came to antagonize you," Harrow admits, "But this is something new to me. You world-hop often; is she driftwood from someworlds else? If not, she's emobodying a change in a rather basic function of death magic."
 
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Aliceinchains36 said:
"Fine," the goblin said, climbing into seat opposite the elf. "No, I like meat. I just assumed you didn't since you're an elf. Most elves won't touch meat," the goblin said.
Click to expand...


Would look towards the Goblin as she climbed opposite of her and smirked " i see well i was wondering if it was that or the idea of dining with an elf didn't appeal to you " she said and would put some various food on her plate and looking the lovely creature over.

Her hand reaching out and pouring her a cup as well and handing it to her " Drink up " she said and then looked at her own cup and brought it to her soft delicate lips and took a sip as well.

Looking at her after it she would smirk " now i want you to order some meat as well and eat till your sated you're going to need your strength unless ofcourse you don't feel comfortable and prefer someone else to take over from you " she said as she reached out with her leg and made sure to rub the leathery texture in a teasing motion over the inside of her leg and then ended her movement and looked at her with an intriguing look on her face " well what's it gonna be " she hummed as she was definitely having fun with her little game now.
 
Obuzeti said:
"I am a student, first and foremost," Harrow corrects with a blissful smile that closes his eyes with the wide corners of his mouth. There's something sharklike in the dilation of his jaws, too square and wide and muscular near the cheekbones. "I prefer to learn. I just have to get everyone else to the point where they have something worth learning, first. You've always been a long-term project, in that regard, but I have patience."

The cushion feathers, and roots sprout, slowly, from its satin surface; their thready tendrils filtering from between Harrow's scales to settle into the cushion with thirsty need, plunging deep and threading through. The grass itself is gone, but the generating animi continues to flourish, self-sustaining weakly from the ambient radiation of Abigail's own magical signature - like a virus; like a parasite. It germinates in the wake of her apocalyptic wrath.

Harrow doesn't address the magical phenomenon at all, though. Instead he matches Abigail's gaze with a cheerful eye, flat and black and empty, without iris, doll-like and deep as the black of space. "Johnette does amazing work with catoptromancy, but her need for a reflective focus and crippling phobias have always hobbled her. I'm confident I can carry on her work in her stead satisfactorily. No, I brought you something else - much more your area of expertise than mine."

He tugs at the slave's collar again, dangling her about three feet above the ground now. She's hung there for almost a minute, and hasn't slowed her struggles in the least. "This is Carianna MacIslely, and she somehow managed to turn herself into an isotope of banshee I've never encountered before. She subvocalizes and in some cases can effect her shriek through vibration only. I watched her kill three test subjects with morse code through a magic-impermeable cell wall. It's fascinating. I had to seal her head three times, her soul into a gem, and suspend her off the floor when she gets agitated or she'll launch thanatophilic rhythms through it."

The flailing slave doesn't look that dangerous from where she hangs, but clearly suffocation isn't a major issue to her either, and on closer observation her heart isn't beating in her chest at all.

"I mostly came to antagonize you," Harrow admits, "But this is something new to me. You world-hop often; is she driftwood from someworlds else? If not, she's emobodying a change in a rather basic function of death magic."
Click to expand...

"Harrow, you've been blasted to Hell three times since I've known you. You think you're so clever. Long term project? I've already outlived you. You can't keep the Reaper away forever." Abigial downed the last of her wine, then swirled the glass around until it refilled itself. She watches with a scowl as Harrow's magic transforms her cushion, but decides not to counter it. "Yes, that's just like you. Steal someone else's work on a completely useless school of magic. Catoptromancy? A waste of time, even for a diviner. Johnette forgot about that. Ahh, the look on her face when her stupid little mirror shattered," Alice smiled wistfully, and took a sip of her wine, before falling silent as Harrow finally got to the meat of the conversation.

Abigail listened to Harrow without comment, before standing up and approaching the slave. Abigail ran her long pale fingers over the slave's skin, exploring the soft flesh, both out of curiosity and pleasure. "I wonder..." she whispered to herself, summoning a curved dagger into her hand from thin air. With a wave of Abigail's hand, the slave was lowered so that she was suspended a few inches above Abigail's cold stone floor. "This will hurt," Abigail said matter of factly, turning the slave around so that she was facing away from Abigail. Abigail took the knife and pressed the black blade to the nape of the slave's neck, carving a small crescent of flesh away. She held the slave still, ignoring the wriggles of protest. She muttered and incantation, and jammed her fingers into the wound. A moment later, she removed a tiny metal disk with a single silver rune engraved in the center.

"Just as I suspected," Abigial said with satisfaction, releasing her hold on the slave. She waved a hand and the wound on the slave's neck closed into a small crescent shaped scar. "What you have here isn't anything new, quite the opposite in fact. Just a normal human, although a very powerful necromancer. She killed at least three banshees, bound them to this rune, and sealed it in her skin. It's a very old ritual. Frankly, I don't know how she pulled it off. I've seen it attempted once by a human, he died almost instantly. I've never seen a sucsessful example of this ritual in person, I've only ever heard vague stories. Where did you say you found her?" Abigial asked, tucking the bloody runestone into her cleavage.
 
"In isolation, yes," Harrow says, agreeably. "However, applying the principles of catoptromancy to light refraction multiplies its usefulness exponentially. A simple reflection is boringly easy and limited, but altering the medium and the refractive focus has fascinating results. The trick is getting the, aheh, "mirror" enchantment to stick, for lack of a better term yet. You have to apply it to the light itself, if you don't just sideslip the material. That's proving difficult."

He grins, honestly thrilled. "But if I can enchant light, all sorts of avenues open up."

The roots and tendrils withdraw now, as he warms to his favorite topic: magic, and the theory thereof. The pillow reemerges, unscathed, and a faint clatter like a rattlesnake's trademark warning arises as he peers at the slave he'd brought alongside Abigail, completely ignoring her stealing the sealed banshees. "She was hunting them - stalking the families whom the banshees presided over, and killing them to summon the spirit itself. If I'm not mistaken, those are the Cliodhana, Aibhill, and O'Connelan banshees, in particular - those being the bloodlines she staked out."

Harrow's expression turns musing, as his serpent half coils and writhes instinctively, the arms that compose it shifting restlessly as he thinks, hypnotic and disturbing. "Her pulse still hasn't returned, so the ritual has stripped her mortality even now, but she hasn't ceased animation either - so she's clearly taken some of their vitality for herself. Maybe she was attempting to drain their powers? I admit, this sort of consumptive binding is much more your area of expertise than mine."

He flicks another bead of green light at Carianna, which impacts her and briefly highlights her entire skeleton from within, as the pulse scans her body thoroughly. No heartbeat, no bloodflow, no brain activity - which means her sentience is being maintained through some other, arcane means, even past the banshee binding.
 
Ashleyyy said:
Would look towards the Goblin as she climbed opposite of her and smirked " i see well i was wondering if it was that or the idea of dining with an elf didn't appeal to you " she said and would put some various food on her plate and looking the lovely creature over.

Her hand reaching out and pouring her a cup as well and handing it to her " Drink up " she said and then looked at her own cup and brought it to her soft delicate lips and took a sip as well.

Looking at her after it she would smirk " now i want you to order some meat as well and eat till your sated you're going to need your strength unless ofcourse you don't feel comfortable and prefer someone else to take over from you " she said as she reached out with her leg and made sure to rub the leathery texture in a teasing motion over the inside of her leg and then ended her movement and looked at her with an intriguing look on her face " well what's it gonna be " she hummed as she was definitely having fun with her little game now.
Click to expand...

Amos had been sitting at the bar, enjoying his drink as he waited patiently for his food. Though it wasn’t particularly crowded, he was getting a bit annoyed that the goblin who was supposed to be serving the Half-Orc, hadn’t returned yet. He continued to drink until there was nothing left. Once that was complete, he spent a few moments waiting, something he wasn’t a fan of doing, especially on an empty stomach.

Being a regular, he got up from his seat and noticed the Goblin sitting at the table with Mera. In a sense of frustration, he did a small stretch and walked over to the table. His breathing began to get a little bit heavier as he leaned down and moved his mouth to the Goblin’s ear. “You, little one, exist to do two things: serve us who are superior to you, and to breed. Outside of that, your life has no meaning,” he said in a very cold tone. “And for me, your kind is still somewhat of a delicacy that I don’t get that often,” Amos added, not hiding the fact that he was so threatening and racist to the Goblin.

Without needing any more reason, the Goblin apologized and stood up. “I’ll get your food right now,” the Goblin said in fear. She watched as he sat down right where the goblin was prior. His sight saw the position of Mera’s foot, still close to where he was now sitting.

“I’m Amos,” he said as he greeted her. As he looked at the plate, there was a view of disdain as he noticed the lack of meat. “Make sure you bring over plenty of meat,” he said as he called over to the Goblin. Once he said that, he looked back over Mera, noting her attire. It wasn’t very common for Elves, in his experience, to be dressed and armed as she was. “And who do I get the pleasure of meeting that almost ruined my appetite?” Amos inquired as he looked at her while taking what was once the Goblin’s drink and sipping it for himself.
 
FireyIce said:
Amos had been sitting at the bar, enjoying his drink as he waited patiently for his food. Though it wasn’t particularly crowded, he was getting a bit annoyed that the goblin who was supposed to be serving the Half-Orc, hadn’t returned yet. He continued to drink until there was nothing left. Once that was complete, he spent a few moments waiting, something he wasn’t a fan of doing, especially on an empty stomach.

Being a regular, he got up from his seat and noticed the Goblin sitting at the table with Mera. In a sense of frustration, he did a small stretch and walked over to the table. His breathing began to get a little bit heavier as he leaned down and moved his mouth to the Goblin’s ear. “You, little one, exist to do two things: serve us who are superior to you, and to breed. Outside of that, your life has no meaning,” he said in a very cold tone. “And for me, your kind is still somewhat of a delicacy that I don’t get that often,” Amos added, not hiding the fact that he was so threatening and racist to the Goblin.

Without needing any more reason, the Goblin apologized and stood up. “I’ll get your food right now,” the Goblin said in fear. She watched as he sat down right where the goblin was prior. His sight saw the position of Mera’s foot, still close to where he was now sitting.

“I’m Amos,” he said as he greeted her. As he looked at the plate, there was a view of disdain as he noticed the lack of meat. “Make sure you bring over plenty of meat,” he said as he called over to the Goblin. Once he said that, he looked back over Mera, noting her attire. It wasn’t very common for Elves, in his experience, to be dressed and armed as she was. “And who do I get the pleasure of meeting that almost ruined my appetite?” Amos inquired as he looked at her while taking what was once the Goblin’s drink and sipping it for himself.
Click to expand...


Mera would be sitting at her table and continue her teasing and talking with the goblin as it was only small talk for now they were chatting about. Seeing another patron walking over to their table she would cork an eyebrow as she saw him talking to her company and her ' guest' now and would sigh softly.

Hearing his words there would be more and more disdain onto her face but she kept her mouth closed for now but would give him a look as he freely took the goblins seat. Looking him over she would slowly pull her foot back and looked him over "The name is Mera and you just send away my company can i ask why ?" she said and would let a soft sigh escape , she saw the half orc appearing male and wasn't to surprised as she had heard rumors of their kind and would add " Also there no need to be so rude to the poor girl you scared her shitless now and as for ruining your appetite the meat will do that for you " she said and would bring her own cup to her lips and took a long sip " you do have balls i'll give you that to just come sit at a strangers table "

Her fairly long legs crossing themselves over one another as she remained in her slouched position wondering what his story would be or his excuse. Not knowing he was a regular she would just sit there as she had noticed the looks over her and her clothing but kept silent for now about that.
 
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