Every whiskey that you're drinking
Charlie hums thoughtfully at the question, the sound warm and pleased as she nods, her fingers still lazily guiding the fire beneath the vat to keep everything exactly where it should be. "Before I was stoned," she says lightly, as if discussing a past address rather than an era long buried beneath history, "I was alive back when all the Ancients lived together in the Climb, when Dygra walked freely among us and nothing felt quite so...fracturerd the way it does now." Her eyes brighten with the memory, blue and sparkling as she beams, clearly delighted by it rather than weighed down by the acknowledgement that the golden age of Ancients, at least as it was back then, was over.
Charlie laughs then, bright and musical, shaking her head so her curls bounce. "Bored? Oh, no. Never. Everything changes constantly—people, cities, desires—how could I ever get bored?" Her grin widens, unapologetic and radiant, as if the idea itself is faintly absurd.
Charlie’s gaze flicks back to Thal’s mischievous grin, her brows lifting with unmistakable approval as she watches the bone settle neatly into its holder. She doesn’t comment on the subtle shifts beneath the humour, choosing instead to meet that look with a conspiratorial smile of her own. "Mmm, well, unsurprisingly sex is one of people’s favourite ways to worship Dygra." She shrugs, utterly at ease with the statement, scooping another ladle of thickened tallow and letting it pour in a slow, glossy ribbon around the bone. "It makes sense. Your body goes a little feral. Heart racing, senses sharpening, desire taking over in ways that aren’t all that different from hunting or giving in to bloodlust." Her smile turns knowingly wicked. "And then it ends with something that feels very good."
Another easy shrug follows, shoulders lifting beneath black silk. "Plenty still come to the Temple, especially with the rage room," she adds, "but there’s something to be said for being available where people already are...and when they’re most in the mood."
Charlie laughs then, bright and musical, shaking her head so her curls bounce. "Bored? Oh, no. Never. Everything changes constantly—people, cities, desires—how could I ever get bored?" Her grin widens, unapologetic and radiant, as if the idea itself is faintly absurd.
Charlie’s gaze flicks back to Thal’s mischievous grin, her brows lifting with unmistakable approval as she watches the bone settle neatly into its holder. She doesn’t comment on the subtle shifts beneath the humour, choosing instead to meet that look with a conspiratorial smile of her own. "Mmm, well, unsurprisingly sex is one of people’s favourite ways to worship Dygra." She shrugs, utterly at ease with the statement, scooping another ladle of thickened tallow and letting it pour in a slow, glossy ribbon around the bone. "It makes sense. Your body goes a little feral. Heart racing, senses sharpening, desire taking over in ways that aren’t all that different from hunting or giving in to bloodlust." Her smile turns knowingly wicked. "And then it ends with something that feels very good."
Another easy shrug follows, shoulders lifting beneath black silk. "Plenty still come to the Temple, especially with the rage room," she adds, "but there’s something to be said for being available where people already are...and when they’re most in the mood."
Charlie
You'll be thinking how I burn like that
