Giriel frowns. It is an honest frown, a straightforward sort of frown. The sort of frown that happens at just the right timing when she hears about disturbed graves that says “gosh that’s serious” and “that sounds like a terrible thing” and comes with a side of “I’m already thinking about how to fix this” all wrapped together in one furrowed browns and downturned lip. Her tea and the dress are both, for the moment, forgotten in that frown.
Cathak Agata ought to be entirely reassured. There is no doubt that Giriel will drop what she’s doing and head out there as soon as it’s polite to leave. She’s certainly not going to bring up any sort of reward or pay or...well the dress is already more than enough and she’s not interested in having chests of gold dumped on her or whatnot. If she solves the problem, she’s earn a few meals selling simple potions to relieve itches and ease sleep to the soldiers and be more than pleased with herself.
She ought to be reassured except for what Giriel blurts out next, the only result of such an honest frown: “If the N’yari desecrated the graves, why are the ghosts haunting your soldiers and not the N’yari?” Giriel frowns, hands pressed on the table. “They must have one of their most powerful shaman’s there! Gosh, I hope, well, I’m sure I could talk some sense into her, no shaman would want to do this, so there must be some really good reason.”
Giriel nods to herself in satisfaction, her bangs bobbing forward, and the frown disappears. “Thank you for telling me, I’ll do everyone I can...er uh, I’ll help everything I can...or I mean, I’ll help everyone I can to help!” She quickly pours another cup of tea and downs this one quickly, hiding the awkwardness of her response and how much Agata had flustered her. Besides, it would be rude to leave without finishing, so she needs to hurry up!
Giriel raises the porcelain teacup to her lips with a hand that makes it look so small. She ought to swallow the whole thing in a single gulp, but she savors it, the steam from within joining in its slow entwining way with the gray veil without.
That teacup is her only defense. She can, politely, say nothing, so long as it touches her lips. It would be the height of rudeness even of a Cathak to interrupt a woman tasting a freshly brewed green with delicate hints of chrysanthemum and jasmine.
She knows that once she lowers it, she will accept the dress. What matter that a gift packed so tightly is an omen of long entrapment? Or that Red Wolf is, in her entire symbolism, the embodiment of the seductive flame that burns all who touch it in rapture? She’s not even trying to hide it and that’s really the point. The flame isn’t seductive if it’s hidden and distant. It is seductive because it dances naked right before your eyes and nothing stands between you and its warmth.
But this is the thing, she knew all this before ever taking a meeting with Cathak Agata. Her reputation preceded her. And while she might give off that air of uncertainty, that too was part of her symbolism, one of her key tools in fact because it meant that people gave her the right context to do her magic rather than run in with swords drawn. But she had taken that meeting anyway because...well, she wasn’t exactly sure and she hid that behind the tea cup, which really was very good and deserved several seconds of being slowly savored.
Perhaps she had taken it merely because she had been asked. Someone important needed a favor from small town witch Giriel Bruinstead? It must be something very specific to her talents and if someone this important needed that, well, that must mean there was a very important ghost up to mischief or some divination that needed doing and was specially up her alley. Whatever it might be, she had more or less resolved to do it because it needed doing before ever coming to the tea house. Now, in that context, how could she possibly refuse such a kind and lovely gift? Even seeing the entrapment it represents, how could she?
So she lowers the teacup gently and carefully, and then offers Red Wolf a broad smile. “This is far too kind a gift for me” she says, making no move to push the box away. A humble acceptance, rejecting in words while taking no action. Even as a foreigner, Red Wolf would understand the gesture and the girl with the box would move to place it with Giri’s belongings that she might try it on later.
Gosh, who would she pose for? S-she needed to think about that but later!
[Red Wolf may take a string and make her request.]
Spooky Witch basics Playful demeanor - darker than black clothes - an eldritch sword
Giriel Bruinstead is a large, powerfully built bear of a woman. Thick shoulders, broad chest, and wide hips make up her body as she stands just an inch shy of six feet tall. She dresses mostly in black sewn with silver thread and at times with floral embroidery done across the fabric. On her back is a massive Zweihander with a hilt nearly as wide as her shoulder that glows with silver runes in the moonlight. Her hair, black and short with bangs, doesn’t usually get in the way, though at times she has to be careful when leaning down to speak with someone that the hair in front doesn’t fall into tickling their face.
Don’t let the black and the mystery fool you, at least not entirely. Giriel most prefers meeting a new person over hot and hearty food, and if she likes you, she’ll offer to sew you a shirt in her style, or any style you request if she can figure out how to do it. She got into magic because her mother did it and it was the natural extension of the domestic arts for her. Learn to cook a good meal, clean the house, play the erhu and once those were mastered, well, how different was it really between cleaning the house and cleaning out an unsettled ghost? Both included more sweeping than you’d think!
The Unseen The unseen are the spirits, ghosts, and little gods that are all too common throughout the land. Most people know the gods, big and small, they walk and play and tend to get kidnapped with some regularity when they’re not busy doing their jobs managing the weather and what have you. But some beings are a little more hidden and sometimes dangerous. Most regular folks and even the heroes of the Dominion not trained in the arts of proper magic can’t see the spirits of the dead or have any idea how to guide them to their ordained afterlife if they’ve become hungry ghosts. And there are littler spirits than the big gods that don’t take a physical form as such. But just because your couch, your hearth, and your favorite hibachi don’t get walking, talking personifications that can go out to noodles with you doesn’t mean they never have anything to say either. And that’s not even mentioning the demons or the rakshasas. Really, the world is bounding with unseen things! Some of them might be outright hostile, but most just want something specific or have somewhere to go and get pretty frustrated that nobody knows how to help them.
-Take another move from your playbook -Take another move from your playbook -Take a move from any playbook -Take a move from any playbook -Add 1 to a stat (max stat of 3) -Add 1 to a stat (max stat of 3) *** -Switch to a new playbook -Live happily ever after
Strings 2 on Han 1 on Kalaya 1 on Red Wolf (spent pending confirmation) 1 on Zhaojun
Smitten Red Wolf
Conditions []Angry (-2 to figure out) []Frightened (-2 to Fight) []Guilty (-2 to Emotional Support) []Hopeless (-2 to Defy Disaster) []Insecure (-2 to Entice)
Moves Commune with the Unseen: When you perform a ritual to commune with the Unseen, give a dangerous Unseen a String on you and roll +Spirit: 10+: Choose 2 -Hide something in the Unseen world -Learn something important from the Unseen -Temporarily alter the Unseen nature of a place -Ask a question from Figure Out a Person of anyone, anywhere, if you can name one of their deceased loved ones -Learn the recent history of an object you hold 7–9: Choose 2 from the 10+ list, but choose 1 thing that goes awry -Restless Unseen cause a haunting -Hungry Unseen destroy all non-sentient life in a small area -Stern Unseen judge you, inflicting a Condition
I Like Snails!: When you are Smitten with someone and Figure Them Out, blurt out something weird and let them ask you a question from the list. Then ask them another question from the list, even on a 6-.
Divination: When you have time and safety to read the unseen truth of someone present, describe your divination process and what makes it conspicuous. The GM will tell you something interesting about the person or the obstacles they face that they don’t know. Then roll +Spirit: 10+: If you tell the truth, they clear a Condition. If you lie, gain a String on them. 7–9: They learn the truth and clear a Condition.
Talk Nerdy to Me: You may roll +Wit instead of +Heart to Entice someone. In addition, choose an area of study that holds special interest for you. You have top-tier knowledge of this area and are always prepared with an interesting fact, and sometimes even a useful fact, when you come across something within your expertise. The GM will provide the information or invite you to make something up. Specialty: signs, omens, and portents
Astral Dance: When you dance across the boundary into the realm beyond, describe it and roll +Grace: 10+: You and a small number of others who dance with you arrive at a distant destination of your choice. 7–9: You don’t arrive where you intend, you arrive almost too late, or you lose something important in the process. The GM will tell you which.
Truths of Heart and Blade Why Did I Bring up the Snails?: When you become Smitten with someone, say why, give them a String, and answer this question: What obvious thing about you are you sure would make them reject you?
Whispered Secrets: When you Figure Out a Person during a physical conflict, you may additionally ask one of these questions, even on a 6-: What makes you insecure? What haunts you?
Additional background Giri (to her friends) is the caring older sister or mother figure in a group. She’s there to make sure that you eat and get enough sleep and is full of laughter and joy at other people's doings. She’s also there to make sure things are put right, and it’s perhaps the one sadness of her life that her profession, which she sees as all about setting the world aright for her for her community, is one that outsiders look on with fear and more than a little loathing. It’s sad that people look at you like you’re tainted because you work with ghosts or play the bamboo flute for demons.
She comes from the highlands and still prefers a little village with nice fields and fresh-grown food to the hustle and bustle of the city. Peregrine, the prodigy, grew up one town over from Giri and they’ve studied together at various times. Giri tends to remind Peregrine to eat when they’re together, much to the other girl’s consternation and improved well-being simultaneously.
Giri has been to the city though, and up the mountains too. N’yari, Flower kingdoms, and Dominion alike have times where they need a Practitioner for one reason or another. Someone didn’t make the proper offerings to their ancestors perhaps, or they disrespected the local gods, or perhaps there’s just a rakshasa working mischief with no rhyme or reason to it. Whatever the cause, there’s always a need to hire witches and often a demand to travel, such that people may recognize her in odd places and neither she nor Peregrine are recluses by any means (much to Peregrine’s chagrin).
Formally, Giriel Bruinstead specializes in divinations and isn’t afraid to sell herself as such. She’s particularly well-studied in interpreting messages and dreams (though she’s not yet mastered the art of entering dreams properly) so her divinations tend to be highly accurate and she's always ready and willing to talk shop when it comes to signs and portents. She’ll happily debate you over tea on the minutiae of cloud shapes and what every type of bird means when it flies above you during a ritual.
Her sword, a great black-handled thing, is almost never used on people. Giri doesn’t much like violence in the first place. The sword is used for spirits though. Some rituals require that you engage in mock combat or subdue the demon after you get its attention, and it’s an effective divination tool for reading anyone that fancies themselves a warrior without ever needing to swing it at them.
Beyond the sword, she has a flute and an erhu, of which she prefers the latter. The flute is necessary for demons though. She’s exactly the sort of character who tends to overpack, so she always has multiple instruments, snacks, random tools, and lots of changes of clothes that she never makes anybody else help carry.
"My advice..." Sir Harold says, taking a long puff of his pipe and stroking his chin, "is to think long-term. Assume you save this lady knight of yours, what then? Your lady has a sword to give away, and a kingly sword at that I've heard. Why, in my youth I'd have made a go at deserving it myself. You see, when I was younger, I served alongside King Uther, just King, as I may have mentioned and..."
Alas, or perhaps rejoice, that Sir Harold does not make it to more than the start of his story of youth and adventure when Constance walks in and crashes the room more thoroughly than ten harts pursued through it with leaps and bounds.
"Her...her love?" Sir Harold's mouth hangs on. "I well...that is...er...quite something, I'd say. I um...perhaps, well, what do you make of that offer my lady?" He puffs again and blows smoke up to the ceiling where it fades away among the criss-crossing rafters. "Does this weigh on the matter of her redemption?" His ask is tentative and you can see in his eyes a certain fear that he may have asked the wrong question entirely.
Robena Lady Liana accompanies you meekly, following two handspans behind you to the stables. She recognizes your foul mood and assumes that she gave offense, but does not know the reason why nor give voice to such gauche things as to beg your forgiveness. Her walk and her stance suggest that perhaps she fears the bread was too mean and she ought to have brought sweets, but she does not voice that either.
Her voice is for her horse. A broad-shouldered white mare, she gives a whinny and a questing look that quickly finds a sugar cube in Liana's palm. Liana murmurs quietly to the horse, whose name is Apple, and tells her what a good girl she is as she takes her treat. Only when that ritual is complete does she fetch the blankets and make up her saddle, finally taking Apples reins to lead her from the stable once you are ready.
Chen didn't know what to say at first. She couldn't just blurt out I'm here for dragon counseling because Qiu thought Jessic could help me out. It was embarrassing and anyway the countess didn't even seem to be paying attention to her. Princesses were a known quantity, she guess, unlike wandering ancient monks and random villagers who somehow pulled your heartstrings every which way constantly.
She let out an squeak that said "hey I'm still here, jerk!" but before she could do more, she saw that look on Rose's face and everything in her just started to melt. She was...not ready for that. The idea had been building up in her mind ever since she saw the collar. Even when Rose had been piggy-backing her around the town like she was a toddler, Chen was starting to think about what Rose wanted and how she seemed to press and show off to hide the fact that maybe what she wanted was someone to push her over. Then she'd agreed so quickly to the Cyanis wish plan, which was objectively nowhere near the best plan to get Jessic's attention when Chen could have just called her, but Rose had leapt at this innocent beauty nearly as fast as Chen had leapt for the thicky fluffy dress she knew she'd get to wish for.
But this, this was like somebody opening a window in her heart and fresh air bursting through and pushing out all the gunked up parts that were full of pressure and worry. Chen gasped out loud. She noticed distantly that Yue was staring at Rose and crying, and for a moment Chen wanted to cry too. But she wanted something else even more than to cry right now. More than letting out the pressure and getting help dealing with her family and all that other stuff all put together.
She wanted Rose to look at her, right at her, at Chen, with that beautiful innocent, just a little pitiful stare. She wanted it more than anything.
Then, in the fantasy that was now flashing through her mind, they'd hug and Rose would lift her up like she weighed nothing, but she'd do a trickly half-flying half leg throw sort of thing that would bring Rose flat on her back. Then! Then Chen would fish out the ropes from Rose's bag and truss her up twice as tight as she'd made Chen when carrying her like a bindle.
And as that thought came to a close and Chen felt her familiar blush rising up to her cheeks, she felt another feeling, one that demanded she shout out because Rose looked a little like she might really be afraid. Pushing out her gag a bit (Cyanis hadn't done hers nearly so tight even if she'd been content with squeaks earlier), tiny little Chen shouted out, "hey, hands off! Rose is my girlfriend and you're scaring her!"
Then Chen realizes what she said and collapses entirely back into squeaking. But it's defiant squeaking. The absolute most defiant embarrassed squeaks you ever heard in your life, and unlike normal she doesn't avert her eyes because even as she's flushing, she's staring at Rose and hoping for some sign, any sign at all that what she said was okay.
"I hope you shall soon be refreshed with the energy to go riding again!" Lady Liana offers to you, the chipperness in her tone worthy of being tied to a bed for the entire day as punishment. "I admit it is unusual," she says more cautiously, seeing your weary face. "One would expect a day of feasting and revelry, but the Lady Sauvage has declared that we shall do three great hunts in succession and so there will be no rest. I'm sorry, you know. I ought to have said something last night but, well, you know, we had certain obligations with regard to the dinner." She makes a face that suggests she did not think much of the pomp and circumstance. She is younger than the other knights, perhaps her duty chafes at her. Regardless, she offers you a hand. "You and I are to be hunting a hart today. The lady will observe, but we are to take the lead. I am told it appears only to those knights of purity and the Lady says that is why I ought to lead with you." She blushes, a light dust of rosy pink, and makes to lead you to the stables to begin the hunt.
Tristan
You are joined by Mort, who has chosen not to join the hunting party today and Sir Harold, who seems more than a little bemused at your needlework as he smokes by the window. It is Mort who speaks first as he holds some pins on your behalf. "Shouldn't we...do something" he says helplessly, clearly unaware that you are both, in fact, doing something. "Lady Robena is here, and all these knights obviously have something to hide..." he gives sir Harold a shrug and receives one in return, the man is obviously fine with Mort's discomfiture. "I just...feel so helpless and I know you're trying to help the Lady Constance's spirits but it feels like, like we're wasting time." He hands you another pin at your request and looks at you with all the frustration of a youth who barely half a year prior thought he knew the entirety of his place in the world.
Constance
There is first, a hunt. Joining this, alone is forbidden to you for it is a different aspect of Robena's penance and testing. Only Lady Liana and Lady Sauvage of the knights have gone out this day though. They are hunting a hart, you have heard, and apparently Hector and Harold would not contribute. At least that's what they think, you had always heard from your grandmother that the sort of purity harts look for is about purpose and drive, not youth and virginity.
With the lady absent, you are, despite being a guest, the authority in the castle. Tristan is busy making dresses with Mort and Harold if you care to join them. The servants are working on your mystery play (though they may need guidance if you'd see fit to give them your time). And Sir Hector, Robena's accuser of the prior knight, is working out in the front yard of the castle, her raven hair flying behind her and sweat gleaming on her brow as she practices her sword work with an intensity that mirrors your own. This last, of course, you merely happened to notice in passing from a castle window and have certainly not been gazing out that window for the last, say, twenty minutes.
Where then will you spend your time as Robena takes on the hunt?
Chen could fly perfectly well, thank you very much! Now sure, sword flight wasn't a high altitude sort of thing, but she could clear the treetops and she would take your bet if you offered her a sprint against Jessic. Sword flight was magical and direct. A simple spell could work slow levitation or a gentle glide, yes. But better execution and more complex magic might give you a dash or a sprint, the sword almost tugging you along, so fast did it want to sail. And if you became comfortable with it, you could relax into long stretches of overland flight riding atop the sword at moderate to high speed. It may not offer the sort of bird's eye view of a high flyer or access to the sky castle, but Chen had gotten used to her skills and that was how she could travel so far from home yet be expected to be responsive to her parents. Sword flight was freedom! It was the exhilaration of going fast, and the little knowledge of special places to gaze at the sunsets that only a skilled climber could reach on foot. Chen hadn't just taken up painting on a whim, she wanted to capture what she saw in these special spots around the world.
But, never had Chen flown with a dragon or been carried by one. There was a vast power at play here. The curving, sinuous muscles pressing her tightly, and even greater the way that the wind rolled and twisted and Jessic rolled and twisted with it. The sound of the air was different, a dull roar like being immersed in water instead of the light sound of the wind rushing past from Chen's normal flying. The pressure was different too, a lurching, stomach dropping, who knows what topsy turvy sort of pressure rather than the growing resistance of going faster and faster. And as they started rising higher and higher, there was a prickling on Chen's skin and little bits of cold formed where her thick dress and luscious gems didn't protect her.
This was a type of magic, but far different from the direct dash of the sword ignoring the world around it. This was in tune with the natural world. It was a trained magic so assured that it felt like it was natural and easy, the payoff of years of practice appearing simpy as the way the world ought to be. Yet it was simultaneously terrifying as the wind itself can be terrifying: fierce, wild, impossible to predict.
The experience would have been more than perfect had Chen merely been able to concentrate on the ride, the pressure of Jessic's muscles and scales as she strove through the air. But on top of that (or on bottom rather) was a humongous and blissful Rose pressed so tight into Chen that it was difficult to catch more than a few glimpses of the distant terrain. Instead, the rolling hills Chen saw were muscles and the mountains a chest, the mountains of Rose pressed right up against her by Jessic's talons keeping them safe against the rushing wind.
Chen blushed and the blood rushed to her skin to warm her against the cold. Her dress, already thick with its hoop skirt and rolls of fabric was whipping, whirling, and whapping against her legs where it wasn't pressed thick and tight against her by Rose's bulk. She felt rather like a child, all wrapped up in rolls and rolls of blankets to stay warm, though it was just the twisting of her dress and the pressure of Rose's body and enthusiastic hugs and nudges. But, despite the ever-growing height laid out vast before them and the chill warring with the warming of her cheeks, Chen felt safe. S-she even buried her head a little deeper into Rose for a snuggle, w-which was just to help keep her skin warm, of course!
This is, this is just too much, okay? Okay?! Hello out there?!
Chen was already overheating before having her ropes yanked hard by someone assuming they would come right off instead of stretch and pull her legs taut with the most intense pressure on her thighs as all the dress fabric pressed in on her. And when her sense started coming back to her, Rose was...was...eeeeeeeeep! She was...cleaning Jessic's talon with...oh gosh oh oh...how could she...ah, ah! Just looking at Rose humiliate herself like that made Chen blush a brighter red than the ripest tomato you'd ever seen!
She couldn't bear it. She had to...to...she couldn't move! Aaaah, the ropes were really really honest to gosh real and she couldn't move or turn or...or anything. She tried to close her eyes, but she knew what was in front of her, and without anything to stop her she just started imagining even more! Rose finishing up and then having her beautiful priest dress all balled and stuffed into her by the dragon talons and and...she opened her eyes and Rose was still working on the soft footpad with a look of pure bliss on her face. If...if it were possible for a person to suddenly turn into a train and shoot pure hot steam out of their head, that would give you the best feel for Chen's emotions at this point. She squirms and wiggles and squeaks into her gag and she's loving every second of it and there's absolutely nothing to be done!
This is so much, it's over the top, it's more than she ever dreamed and and and as Chen lets herself melt into incoherent squeaks a little part of her inside thinks about how this is the best part of being a Princess!
Your words hang in the air, a barrier to the return of anything one could call normal. The world around you is a puppet show. Diners return. There is talking and ambiance, they serve potatoes and salted meats and you eat enough for sustenance though you remember no taste upon your tongue. A trick of the mind, a body functioning without thought, directed from afar. Of Constance there is no further sign through the night. Though you are offered guidance to your room, you rest in your seat at the high table as a statue until the light pulls itself, ever so tentatively, above the rim of the windows and dares to brush the top of your head in a defiant show of warmth.
It is Sir Liana, the younger knight, who greets you in the morning. She enters carrying a simple loaf of bread in a basket in one hand, and a water basin in the other, a towel draped over her arm. "I thought you might be hungry, and perhaps need to refresh yourself" she says with a kind smile, placing the bread on the table and the basin before you. Her face and her manner ask no reply nor word of thanks, but your chivalry may not permit your silence. What words are left to you in response to kindness?
Constance
You pass from that table through the double doors and are met by the returning motley, such as they are (or perhaps you think better of them than to use such a term despite their complicity in Tristan's antics?). Sir Harold offers a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Sir Liana a hopeful smile, and Sir Hector a word of sympathy. Lady Sauvage stops and looks upon you, her face stoic. "Will you deem her worthy, I wonder? Do not hold back against her. If you do not press her and give her the opportunity to show you and us her nobility, I cannot avert her doom. Tomorrow, you should test her purity, and after that her resolve." She too passes into the hall and returns to her meal.
What do you think of that advice? Perhaps reflect on it during your morning ablutions. Surely you're getting up early after Tristan has been pelting you with snowballs so often.
Tristan
Sir Hector grimaces like she just took a bite out of a lemon. "We are gathered to determine our future." She looks at you with a chagrined face that says yes I know that's unhelpful, this isn't easy okay? "It would perhaps be easiest to say that we are here to determine if Robena's fate may be averted. But...that is misleading, it's just one question. We are here too to see what role Robena may play, and what role Constance may play with that sword of hers. And as you are tied intimately with them, so too what role you will play. I am...I was once close to King Uther. I would see things change if I could, but the shape of that change depends on whether Robena lives or dies, on what charge Lady Constance offers to us. I could, perhaps play the role of teacher if Sir Coilleghille fails, but we will be worse for it, nor do I know if Lady Constance will offer this kingdom redemption if Robena dies."
Sir Hector looks at you then Tristan. "And I would be lying if told you I did not think the lady's affections misguided. That so much should hang on this one knight is unfair at best." And she doesn't say I'm jealous but she might as well have written it on a banner and displayed it upon her tabard for how obvious it is to you both.
But then the doors open and Constance walks out and the knights return to their dinner leaving you, Mort (scratching his head in confusion) and Constance. You have the evening and morning to share your plans. You are making plans, yes? Did you want to go out hunting with the group? Or perhaps you need to cheer Constance yet again, given the ghastly look on her face and the skull in her hand.
Oh gosh. Oh goshies! Oh wow! This outfit is incredible. If the maid outfit before had given Chen a feeling of shy happiness, this gown takes her breath away. The light glittering from her rubies glimmers on her face, and the opals on her neck shine in the sun with glittering rainbow sparkles over their polished faces. Her hair butterflies sparkle in contrasting greens, little emeralds glittering along their wings.
She would smooth down the dress and feel the soft, thick pink fabric if she could. She’d bundle it all up in her arms and let is cascade down into its wide poofs and sigh in contentment. She can’t though because her arms and her neck are bound ever so tightly. Yet that too is special. She’s under tension, her skin around the ropes just a little red and it feels like her muscles are so tense. But it’s a good kind of tension, like a cat stretching in a sunbeam, a feeling of warmth and energy stretching through all her muscles. She feels jazzed and squirms on her hilltop perch to make the light refract and sparkle (t-to better attract the dragon, not just because it feels good to let the fabric brush her legs and her stomach. Of course!).
It’s as she’s enjoying her opulent new outfit that she catches sight of Rose. Cute priestess Rose, being so good kneeling there just like Cyanis said, her golden jewelry rising and falling on that mountain of a chest. Oh...oh gosh, oh goodness. Chen lets out a squeak from behind her gag and tries to look away but she’s tied in place and it’s too hard, so all she manages is a rustling of thick pink lace and rays of sparkling gems without any real movement. Oh, no no no, she’s blushing and squeaking, trying her best to avert her eyes when she can’t move her head but there’s so much Rose there and Rose is batting her eyelashes with such a cute, innocent look on her face that Chen has never seen from Rose before. It’s all hope and innocence and it’s sooooo cute that Chen could just burst! She’s never going to live this down, Rose will tell everyone about how she melted down in speaking and blushing and Yue is probably looking at her with pity and...and the dragon is going to find her like this aaaaaaaaah!
Member
The Infamous
Fetzen
Master EffeX