charlie
Charlie practically preens beneath the praise, her eyes sparkling like sapphires tossed into flame. "Stop it, you’re going to make me blush," she croons, even though she absolutely won’t. Instead, she lets the compliment soak into her like sunlight, lifting her chin and offering a theatrical twirl so that the dress flares around her thighs. "I had a feeling this colour would look good under sacred crystal light. And clearly, I was right."
As Nyx stands, Charlie steps back slightly to avoid the worst of the melted residue, though her lips curl with delight to see the flick and smear of it across the wall. "You’ve still got stone-birth all over you," she teases lightly, summoning a flick of fire in her palm and gently flicking it toward the gunk to help burn away what clings. "There. Much better. Now you’re just mysterious and radiant instead of mysterious and... gooey."
But then Nyx takes her hand and kisses it, and the priestess’s brows lift in amusement and interest. "Oooh. Well-mannered and beautiful. Are all your kind this charming when you wake up from centuries of magical imprisonment, or is it just you?"
The dream mention, however, makes Charlie's smile soften. Her tail flicks once, thoughtfully. "A lyvern in chains, huh?" she repeats, voice dropping into a lower, more reverent hum. "I hope that was just a dream and not an old memory of yours." Chains were often the sort of thing the priestess enjoyed being tangled up in, but typically she (and others) did so in their own skin rather than in one of their more intimidating forms. That spoke of something far less fun than bondage.
With a wink, she offers her arm. "Come on, Nyx. Let’s get you cleaned up and out of the dark. I’ve got hot baths, alcohol, and a Temple full of our kind who will be dying to meet you."
As Nyx stands, Charlie steps back slightly to avoid the worst of the melted residue, though her lips curl with delight to see the flick and smear of it across the wall. "You’ve still got stone-birth all over you," she teases lightly, summoning a flick of fire in her palm and gently flicking it toward the gunk to help burn away what clings. "There. Much better. Now you’re just mysterious and radiant instead of mysterious and... gooey."
But then Nyx takes her hand and kisses it, and the priestess’s brows lift in amusement and interest. "Oooh. Well-mannered and beautiful. Are all your kind this charming when you wake up from centuries of magical imprisonment, or is it just you?"
The dream mention, however, makes Charlie's smile soften. Her tail flicks once, thoughtfully. "A lyvern in chains, huh?" she repeats, voice dropping into a lower, more reverent hum. "I hope that was just a dream and not an old memory of yours." Chains were often the sort of thing the priestess enjoyed being tangled up in, but typically she (and others) did so in their own skin rather than in one of their more intimidating forms. That spoke of something far less fun than bondage.
With a wink, she offers her arm. "Come on, Nyx. Let’s get you cleaned up and out of the dark. I’ve got hot baths, alcohol, and a Temple full of our kind who will be dying to meet you."
they say i did something bad
then why'd it feel so good?
then why'd it feel so good?
Hella golden retriever energy. Small unrefined horns made of ruby. Regular spade-shaped tail.
