(that she can understand, her own disposition meant that arlecchino knows of more....grim necessities. to put it simply. she's done violent acts, often with those clawed hands of hers, none of which she would be sharing. that never escapes her within a good reason (she does have children to worry about) upon setting aside her champagne flute. the die being thrown should be an easy task, whatever number she lands is what she gets to do. an easy game for someone to dip their toes into as a newcomer to this debauched and hedonistic haven.
it is amusing to think even a dynasty of khaenri'ah that was long thought dead is still burning in one woman. like the moon that haunts her dreams, that haunts her steps and clings to her like an ill omen. anyway, that clawed and twisted looking hand grabs the die and shakes it decently. the click of the die hitting one another fills the air, and once it lands on: 7 and 7. they're both fondling then, seems like, for the start. the knave isn't sure how to fondle a neck, but she did waste no time and reach to run one of those clawed fingers along tharja's neck slowly.
the burning heat of her skin broils, but rests calmly in her fingertips while doing something a little more sensual than expected. like flirting, like not flirting. she's too good at being a mystery to make that part of it evident for anyone.)
Hmm, I suppose it wasn't anywhere like the nose, then. Dice games aren't something I'm well versed in.
(much less sexual based dice games, or sex based any sort of games. sordid affairs that are like the ones on display here were something arlecchino didn't indulge in. a lot of her pleasures of the flesh were best left in private. the more intimate variety and not-so intimate variety, in particular, were part of those indulgences that the knave would afford herself from time to time.)
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it is amusing to think even a dynasty of khaenri'ah that was long thought dead is still burning in one woman. like the moon that haunts her dreams, that haunts her steps and clings to her like an ill omen. anyway, that clawed and twisted looking hand grabs the die and shakes it decently. the click of the die hitting one another fills the air, and once it lands on: 7 and 7. they're both fondling then, seems like, for the start. the knave isn't sure how to fondle a neck, but she did waste no time and reach to run one of those clawed fingers along tharja's neck slowly.
the burning heat of her skin broils, but rests calmly in her fingertips while doing something a little more sensual than expected. like flirting, like not flirting. she's too good at being a mystery to make that part of it evident for anyone.)
Hmm, I suppose it wasn't anywhere like the nose, then. Dice games aren't something I'm well versed in.
(much less sexual based dice games, or sex based any sort of games. sordid affairs that are like the ones on display here were something arlecchino didn't indulge in. a lot of her pleasures of the flesh were best left in private. the more intimate variety and not-so intimate variety, in particular, were part of those indulgences that the knave would afford herself from time to time.)