sweet dreams till sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
"Well said." She cooes up at him, her chin tilted alluring as her eyes sparkle with a dark sort of fire that remains even as the wash of light from the outside world fades when the lightning does. "I do love a man with the will to put in an honest day's work." Safrin agrees.
Turning her back to the window and leaning against the frame, she tilts her head as her eyes scour the lines of his face. In her hand an intricate dagger appears. Looking down as if surprised to see it there, Safrin twirls it softly to reveal the full design of it, holding the hilt in one hand and pressing the tip against her finger to allow it to revolve. Dark ruby-red blooms from the point, trickling down the blade with a sound like singing steel. "Daggers are such interesting weapons." She murmurs, almost to herself, though given how close she stands to Sunjata, she isn't at all worried he might not hear her. 'They rely on power instead of inertia like swords might. Require you to be quite close."
Turning the dagger, she places the tip coated with her blood against his chest, and though he wears layers of fabric, it presses neatly against his skin. It doesn't hurt, not yet anyway, but the feeling is like the birth of a star: it starts out small and compact, rippling and then sparking outwards. Pulling the blade back from him, she looks at it with a small smile, before letting it fall against her shoulder.
"And they must be quite sharp, too." So saying, she presses it against the leather and lace that cross her shoulder. Both fall away instantly, leaving her dress hanging from just one side now. "Of course this close...you're likely to have just the one chance." Safrin looks up at him, her voice still a low whisper.
"And this is what you'd want?"
Turning her back to the window and leaning against the frame, she tilts her head as her eyes scour the lines of his face. In her hand an intricate dagger appears. Looking down as if surprised to see it there, Safrin twirls it softly to reveal the full design of it, holding the hilt in one hand and pressing the tip against her finger to allow it to revolve. Dark ruby-red blooms from the point, trickling down the blade with a sound like singing steel. "Daggers are such interesting weapons." She murmurs, almost to herself, though given how close she stands to Sunjata, she isn't at all worried he might not hear her. 'They rely on power instead of inertia like swords might. Require you to be quite close."
Turning the dagger, she places the tip coated with her blood against his chest, and though he wears layers of fabric, it presses neatly against his skin. It doesn't hurt, not yet anyway, but the feeling is like the birth of a star: it starts out small and compact, rippling and then sparking outwards. Pulling the blade back from him, she looks at it with a small smile, before letting it fall against her shoulder.
"And they must be quite sharp, too." So saying, she presses it against the leather and lace that cross her shoulder. Both fall away instantly, leaving her dress hanging from just one side now. "Of course this close...you're likely to have just the one chance." Safrin looks up at him, her voice still a low whisper.
"And this is what you'd want?"
but in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me
