Every whiskey that you're drinking
Charlie wrinkles her nose in a way that is almost scandalously cute for someone wrist-deep in gore, her smile curling bright and playful as she watches the bone settle exactly where it needs to be. The motion makes her curls bounce, her tail giving an indulgent little swish that sends a ripple of shadow-sparkle across the stone floor.
"Oh, pretty much," she chirps, as if emotional alchemy were as simple as placing flowers in a vase. "Most people don’t actually need much more than the right atmosphere to feel safe. Though..." She lifts a finger, the gesture delicate despite the blood smeared along her skin. "The right ambiance isn’t the same for everyone. Some need soft warmth. Some need heat. Some need to fight." Her shoulders rise in a dramatic shrug, silk shifting like living ink across her body. "But give someone exactly what makes their pulse slip a little faster, and they will absolutely talk eventually."
Thal’s smirk earns a trill of laughter from Charlie, bright enough to make the vat shimmer. She pours another slow ribbon of tallow over the bone, watching it thicken and cool into soft, layered folds. "Mmm, there can be, yeah," she admits with theatrical exasperation. "Lots of complaints about responsibility and expectations and cousins being awful or lovers being confusing. Honestly it’s like a very gory version of confession sometimes."
But then her shoulders soften, the brightness gentling rather than dimming. Her blue eyes lift to Thal, and for a moment the energy around her settles into something warm and startlingly sincere. "I don’t mind, though," she says, voice smoothing into honey. "Finding someone who actually wants to listen, someone who doesn’t already have a plan for them or an agenda tucked behind their teeth? That’s rare for most people." Her smile curves, a slow blooming thing edged with mischief. "If they need to use me for that, I don’t mind at all." Just as she didn't mind being used for other activities.
Then, with a delighted flick of her tail and a flutter of lashes that glints like candle flame catching crystal, Charlie’s grin snaps back into wicked brilliance. "And," she adds, sing-song and sinful, "once they get all that out of their systems, they’re usually so much more fun to worship with."
"Oh, pretty much," she chirps, as if emotional alchemy were as simple as placing flowers in a vase. "Most people don’t actually need much more than the right atmosphere to feel safe. Though..." She lifts a finger, the gesture delicate despite the blood smeared along her skin. "The right ambiance isn’t the same for everyone. Some need soft warmth. Some need heat. Some need to fight." Her shoulders rise in a dramatic shrug, silk shifting like living ink across her body. "But give someone exactly what makes their pulse slip a little faster, and they will absolutely talk eventually."
Thal’s smirk earns a trill of laughter from Charlie, bright enough to make the vat shimmer. She pours another slow ribbon of tallow over the bone, watching it thicken and cool into soft, layered folds. "Mmm, there can be, yeah," she admits with theatrical exasperation. "Lots of complaints about responsibility and expectations and cousins being awful or lovers being confusing. Honestly it’s like a very gory version of confession sometimes."
But then her shoulders soften, the brightness gentling rather than dimming. Her blue eyes lift to Thal, and for a moment the energy around her settles into something warm and startlingly sincere. "I don’t mind, though," she says, voice smoothing into honey. "Finding someone who actually wants to listen, someone who doesn’t already have a plan for them or an agenda tucked behind their teeth? That’s rare for most people." Her smile curves, a slow blooming thing edged with mischief. "If they need to use me for that, I don’t mind at all." Just as she didn't mind being used for other activities.
Then, with a delighted flick of her tail and a flutter of lashes that glints like candle flame catching crystal, Charlie’s grin snaps back into wicked brilliance. "And," she adds, sing-song and sinful, "once they get all that out of their systems, they’re usually so much more fun to worship with."
Charlie
You'll be thinking how I burn like that
Hella golden retriever energy. Small unrefined horns made of ruby. Regular spade-shaped tail.
