Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Printable Version

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Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Hobo_Bob - 03-27-2015

<img style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;" style="avatar" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/bob2/female/FotoFlexer_Photo_2.jpg]
That was not really what she wanted to hear. Her stomach was empty, and Seri was in need of food. So the longer she took to find something to wear, the longer to get food. And that was not an ideal thing to do at this time. Huffing as he grinned at her indecision, she crossed her hands behind her back, grasping her wrist and looked back at him with a slight narrowing of her eyes. Not that she was upset or angry, but the way that he wanted to play and yet not was a painful feeling to her.

Then again, her body was aching to be touched and to touch. But that would have to wait.

<font color="#59a3f7]"....Fashion show...? I-....don't have a very good cat walk, I think."[/font] Looking over her shoulder into his closet again, Seri picked out a random shirt and held it up to herself. The sleeves were black fishnet and seemed almost as long as her legs while the torso was a stretchy solid black. It seemed as good as anything.

Except that it would cover perhaps her breasts and stomach, but nothing lower than that. Looking from the shirt back to the bed, and made an odd expression. Her brows furrowed, but not in confusion. Her lips turned into half a grin, but no teeth showed. And still, her shoulders shrugged. It was an awkward agreement.

<font color="#59a3f7]"I suppose....a few moments of trial and error won't hurt."[/font]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - danixiewrites - 04-11-2015

<img style="Lyta Fiera" src="http://i1299.photobucket.com/albums/ag76/danixiewrites/lyta_zpsk848tfg6.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]She would be allowed to stay! A rush of pleasure flushed her cheeks, followed by a downpour of dismay as she realized how very much she'd needed to hear those words. Like begging for scraps for her ears. Though her posture deflated, she didn't have the strength to indulge in humiliation. Lyta simply followed Ruka's lead to the counter, sliding onto the chair in a manner that suggested she'd very much like to be swallowed by the cushion. Her palms touched cool steel, but even though she obligingly laid her belongings on its surface, her pinky remained hooked into the strap of her bag and the umbrella rested against her skin.

Not that she was afraid of being robbed, here. And not that her belongings could be considered of value to the average person. Indeed, it was likely once she covered rent at this cathedral, her clutch would be empty--and both objects would be literally worthless.

Excepting that they were hers.

"I am," she began in a rough timbre that made her insides shudder in dismay, "Lyta. Fiera. Ah. Please don't go to much trouble...anything is fine. Really. I could get my own water, if you'd show me to the glasses?"

A blink. Then a cringe. Both men had free reign of the kitchen, but she was yet less than a guest and didn't dare presume to plunder. Offering to reduce some of the trouble she'd caused might still be met with glowering looks of distrust. It wouldn't be the first time that morning, though those had been generally due to a lack of funds.

"Unless." She cleared her throat, swallowed hard, cursed inwardly that she wasn't the strong, confident vixen she needed to be. "Unless that isn't done here."

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 04-13-2015

[/img]"http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f206/Blade_Redwind/Alonimi/RukaAlomini.png" style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]Lyta… it sounded… like a note. The name rolled off a sound in Ruka’s head. It wasn’t an entirely human name, but that didn’t mean much insofar as actually being human. Was she? They got all sorts here; Valsport was a melting pot of oddities—whimsical and beautiful oddities that fascinated her. Each one had their own stories, their own catastrophes and lyrical tales of joy. And, Lyta appeared the very sort who had a very interesting story. One didn’t come in from the rain looking like she needed the biggest help up in the world, something warm to eat, and a soft bed if they didn’t.

In fact, it would be a fair estimation that Lyta tugged at her every protective natural instinct. Ruka was hard pressed not to simply take her to a room, hand her some clothes, and then slip out only to make her something to eat that she would—kindly—bring back to her. Seri had seen it a few times—that natural inclination to swath and mend. And each of those in her employ knew the Traygon had a weakness for the lost and without.

Certainly, she didn’t run this place on the spare hope that she’d profit from any of it.

The smile remained. “A lovely name,” Ruka told her. “And there is no trouble involved, I assure you.

“Forgive me, but you look at is if you need a little attending. I happen to enjoy attending to others who seem as though they need it.

“Though, if you prefer to do things on your own, I would not be the least offended, Ms. Fiera.”

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Angel Kimmi - 04-24-2015

[/img]"http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh490/Kim_Irvine/sidebar-1.png" style="max-width:35%;float:left;margin:0 18px;" style="avatar] <font color="9ce619] Saydri watched the two females silently at first. His silver eyes narrowed ever so slightly on Ruka though. Almost as if he could sense the mental insult towards his cooking without her even saying anything, though her earlier words did give some hint to what was likely her train of thought. At the word ginger the male snorted softly, disregarding both questions for now, instead his gaze flickered over towards the young woman still curled up on the floor and wondered mildly if she always sat curled up in corners or if today was an exception.

 He blinked however at the apology that appeared to be directed towards him only for it to be replaced with a smile when the young woman mentioned his cooking had smelled good when she arrived. At least someone seemed to appreciate his attempts…or at least it seemed so to him – though it potentially wasn’t difficult to surpass most of his co-workers or boss in that area.

 He watched as the two conversed. Remaining silent and observing for a time as Ruka coaxed the young woman, as his boss was prone to do. Saydri blinked as he was referred to as Panther and Chef within a short period of time to join the fray of words used to describe him, perhaps he should provide an introduction before the young woman decided one of these words was his name.

 As the two conversed Saydri moved across the room once more towards the fridge, once more removing similar ingredients to what he had removed earlier. In order to make an omelette or a sandwich, providing he wasn’t distracted this time he was fairly certain he could manage the former. Saydri just wasn’t certain he wanted to try his luck a second time, considering the amount of smoke and the black char on the frying pan.

 He sighed quietly, putting the ingredients onto the metal bench near Ruka before retrieving a wooden chopping block, and it –had- been going so well too. It was replaced however with a hint of a smile appearing at her attempt to rebut Ruka. “Ruka enjoys doting on those that find their way here. I had assumed that my omelette would be a success or I would have attempted to deter you from my cooking earlier.”

 Saydri walked over to the cupboard and pulled down a glass before walking over to her, placing it in front of her before continuing with what appeared to be a completely serious expression to others but those that knew him better would see the spark of mischief as he stated. “Unless you’re an employee. Then Ruka just picks on your cooking skills,” he added dryly before glancing towards Ruka. Answering in a roundabout way the question Ruka had aimed at him earlier – proving that she had perhaps hurt his feelings a touch. “I do not always make inedible things.”
[/font]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 04-26-2015

<img style="avatar" src="http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f206/Blade_Redwind/Alonimi/Saint01.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]The grin remained as she huffed at him, as she placed her hands behind her back and made a sort of face. He remained as he was, covers half clothing his unclothed form, cheek in his palm, and positioned on his side.

“Better than cat walk,” he told her, finally moving well enough to slide across the bed and reach for his smokes. Pack, lighter, and ashtray in hand, he moved so that his back was propped up against the headboard and a cushioned set of pillows that had somehow become mashed there.

As she dug around for something he lit up, but when she turned back around he raised a brow. Was it her prerogative to go ‘round in nothin’? That’s how she’d shown up on his doorstep last night—mostly.

Still, he smiled that cocky smile of his and brushed errant black strands out of the way. They fell back into place, but not as badly as before. “True. ‘Gonna wear that one?”

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - SilentMystery - 04-26-2015

Location: Music Tower
Target Role Player: (Angel Kimmi).

 There was something about a musical instrument that always reminded him of the past - a time when things weren't so chaotic in his own life, when everyone was still learning and appreciating all that this world had to offer. Creativity was considered a significant skill, treasured and respected. Things were done by hand, carefully tailored and used, so much so that it became a part of yourself, within muscle memory, in which you don't have to think just feel... just experience.

 That was what he was experiencing at that moment. He was in a world that was just his own as his digits gently slid down the strings of a cello, feeling the soft friction they provided, a light stimulation against the pads of his fingertips. His other hand held the body of the large instrument, stabilizing it against himself as if holding a lover and ensuring them that his careful touches would only bring out the best of themselves, until the very sound that they utter would be considered music. That hand slid up against the instrument's neck and held it loosely.

 Thinking of this item as a lover made him smile, especially when he sensed the presence of his own significant lover, his chosen. It seemed dulled down, perhaps in an act of stealth, and resting his cheek against the body of the cello, his dark eyes moved over to a now lighted area where object of his obsession now wandered. It didn't take long for his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness though he had been staying within the room for who knew how long, perhaps not long enough. A strand of his dark red hair fell against his face and curved around his chin while predatory eyes focused and stayed upon the wandering soul, observing him much like he was observing this room not too long ago. It wasn't a surprise that he had chosen the piano, and the sight before him made his lips quirk up into a small smile, the familiar tune welcomed.

It was a matter of time before they met up again. Their interests were too similar.

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - danixiewrites - 04-26-2015

<img style="Lyta Fiera" src="http://i1299.photobucket.com/albums/ag76/danixiewrites/lyta_zpsk848tfg6.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]A lovely name.

But not a recognizable one.

And why should it be? But rather than thoughts of how certainly not everyone enjoyed opera nor had their paws in the art scene at all, rather than thoughts about people's wildly varying tastes and trends or how her patron had likely buried her disappearance from the call line whole and sundry with the introduction of her proven slut of an understudy, all Lyta could think about was how many months it had been since the mere mention of her lovely name brought a standing ovation to a crowd. A star, fallen aground and buried like her presence--and subsequent absence--hadn't left an impact at all.

The tears came then, quick and quiet as snowflakes, and she wouldn't be able to stop them. With her head bent, the salty drops tumbled straight to her pale knuckles, which stirred her from her gloomy thoughts but wiping the evidence frantically from her skin did nothing to hide the evidence. Nor its course.

Determined to fight the melancholy, and owing words where she'd rather not speak at all, Lyta straightened her shoulders and tipped her head back to meet Ruka's eyes. Silent tracks made their way down her cheeks as she worked out, "Yesthankyou. Foryourkindness."

In another life, she'd taken being waited on for granted. Now, it only made her cry harder. Not in search of sympathy, but for that woman, a self-pitying tear shed for how foolish she'd been. And then in gratitude. Because the woman she was now--whoever that was--was even less deserving than the woman she'd been. "If you're certain it won't be trouble. Please."

Her words came out stable, not wobbly, but smooshed together and in a timbre befitting a rock queen or some biker goddess rather than a tiny woman in a pique of despondency. Just as much at odds as the rest of her. But there was no helping it. She had to admit to herself that now she was seated at the counter and crying like some fresh-born kit, she was probably more likely to shake apart than to get a glass of water, much less food, for herself, a notion that had her clamping down every muscle in her body. Tears were bad enough, but if she ignored them, they'd stop. The shaking...it had started in the hospital on more than one occasion, gone on seemingly without end, and it could not be permitted to happen now.

She was saved from herself by the red-headed man. Brown eyes warily followed his movements as more reassuring words perked at her ears. A tiny smile emerged as he pointed out the cabinet in question by way of bringing over a glass. "There's...always next time, Panther. Right?"

Her tears stopped flowing at the reminder. It was a good one, an edge of advice she would do well to cling to herself. What was the phrase? Practice what you preached? And so she had to try. And when that--no. IF that failed, she had to try again. She glanced between them and her fox lifted its head a tiny bit, as though it too were trying to read subtext. Had her distraction caused trouble of a different sort, along with the fire? Her hands shuffled her belongings into the crook of one arm and she wrapped her fingers around the glass. Lyta's muscles uncoiled one at a time as she focused inwardly. In a moment, she'd feel stable enough to make her way to the sink.

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Hobo_Bob - 04-26-2015

<img style="avatar" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/bob2/female/FotoFlexer_Photo_2.jpg" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]
The shirt she held in her hands was soft and clean. The scent of Saint burrowed deep into the fabric and clung to every strand of thread. Smoke and Molasses - strange combination, yet it worked on the vampire just behind her, reclining on his bed and watching her with lazy but interested mismatched eyes. The kind of eyes that made her mouth dry and salivate all at once. It was that look that he gave her that tempted her to do what she longed to do. Apply her hands and lips along his person and stifle that oral fixation. It was knowing what had happened the night before and how it affected her from this point on that made being alone with him in a room slightly difficult for the small female.

However, the moment he lit up his cigarette, Seri's creature woke up with a loud, angry growl.

It did not like fire, and even if it was just a simple lighter it was enough for Seri to falter in mid-dressing and clamp down inside of herself. The box, the iron doors in a cement room, the bars and chains. Every bell and whistle one could think of to encase a creature like hers fell into place in less time it took for light to travel to a given point. Mentally, she was closed off from the world around her and no longer seemed to be affected by Saint or his gaze. She was not able to fully relax as she once had but a moment ago. Appearing more stiff and empty while she fought to retain her control and keep her evil inside.

With the shirt covering her body above her waist, she reached into his closet once more and dig around for something to wear on her waist. Like the children in Narnia, she disappeared for a moment or two inside his closet. The tail of her silver hair poking out on the ground to show where she was currently. The sound of hangers moving and her small grunts as she wondered in the dark depths were all that was heard for a moment. But soon, she emerged wearing a pair of rolled up shorts. Or trunks? She wasn't too sure what the purpose for them were, but they worked on covering her body.

<font color="#4c9cf7]"These will-...do for now."[/font] monotone and cold, she adjusted the waist to be as high as possible and then folded them down to make them tighter and fit a little better. Ice-blue eyes remained downcast and looked about the room for the things she wore the night before. Some were in tatters on the floor while her lace robe was in perfect condition over the couch. Her bare feet pitter pattered along the floor while she gathered her things and brought them to the bed. <font color="#4c9cf7]"H-have you-....decided who to call for-.....lunch?"

[/font]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Angel Kimmi - 04-26-2015

<img style="avatar" src="http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh490/Kim_Irvine/sidebar3.png" style="max-width:35%;float:left;margin:0 18px;] <font color="cd43f8] The familiar notes of Für Elise filled the air of the tower, possibly floating through more of the Cathedral for the other occupants to hear - if any were awake or paying attention that was.

 His pale, slender fingers danced along the ivory and ebony keys in a way that gave no doubt to the fact that he was very well versed in playing the piano. Familiar notes formed into the classical song as the pure notes flowing around him as he took the familiar melody through its paces, heading as always towards the eventual conclusion of the piece of music. For all things eventually had to end, which was a good thing if one didn’t want to play the piano for an eternity.

 His body shifted with his movements, platinum strands cascading freely down his back and around him as he played with quiet abandon, amethyst eyes having closed at some point through the piece of music. Becoming caught in the ebb and flow of the song which he played without sheet music, but from memory. Music was a constant love and joy in his life, something that allowed such expression though he preferred classical music over the more modern ‘music’. There was something about the classics that couldn't be ignored – a reason that they had survived through the ages. They held a certain soul to them that was missing in some of the modern music.

 Luciefel remained seated on the blue velvet bench that was positioned in front of the Grand Piano in its prominent placement in the rounded room that made up one portion of the Music Tower. As the last notes of Für Elise faded away the sun unexpectedly chose that moment to come from behind the clouds and pour through the stain glass windows, filling the room with soft colourful light.

 It was at that moment that the amethyst orbs opened once more and he gazed appreciatively at his surroundings and the way the colourful light emphasized certain objects until a mild frown formed. He sensed something familiar, or rather someone. A wrinkling of his forehead for a moment as he gently slipped his fingers over the keys and pulled the cover back down again before Luciefel stood smoothly from his seat, running his fingers through the platinum strands as he turned.

 How had he missed the presence all this time, he wondered as his gaze sought out the form of the familiar presence he could feel. Or perhaps the question was how long had Armand been there? It was unusual for him not to notice his lover immediately even if he was preoccupied.

[/font]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - SilentMystery - 04-27-2015

[size=small]Location: Music Tower
Target Role Player: [/font][size=small](Angel Kimmi)[/font]

 Beautiful.

 That was a perfect word to describe what was the sight before him, even more than just sight... but also sound. The smooth rhythm of the music caused his (what most would consider nonexistent) heart to flutter. Though the music was light and almost whimsical to the ears, he sensed a different emotion... something old... something familiar... something almost... nostalgic. What would consider nostalgia, but just a reliving of the past? It was either a pleasant or not so pleasant experience, and if one listened closely, it was almost always noticeable what kind of emotion is behind the notes played - lighthearted or otherwise.

What he found was what lured Armand to Luciefel in the first place. The fact that he couldn't quite tell what emotion the other was feeling, or rather pinpoint one in particular. Whenever he was in the other's presence, it was always a mixture, a gamut of sentient information that overwhelmed him, much more than any mortal or immortal he's come across. Armand concluded it was because of the male's age and his significance in this world.

 He was so lost in thought that when the music stopped, it seemed abrupt; the silence that followed so... loud and almost unbearable. The ebony eyes continued to focus on the other male, before he let out a soft chuckle and lifted his cheek from the body of the cello. Well, he was caught, but this was one time among many that he didn't mind.

 "You're getting old,"[/font] he said to Luciefel in a playful tease, judging by the other's calculating expression that he wasn't sensed earlier by him. <font color="#f1374d" style="font-weight:bold;]"Now, now... How can I leave your side if you're not more careful?" [/font]<font color="#ffffff]Leaning back in his seat, the ruffles on his attire shifted accordingly with his sleeves and collar of the quite olden-style suit he wore.[/font]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Angel Kimmi - 04-28-2015

<img style="avatar" src="http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh490/Kim_Irvine/sidebar3.png" style="max-width:35%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]
 <font color="cd43f8] Luciefel would have continued to play the piano if not for the all too familiar presence that pricked belatedly at his senses creating a multitude of questions in response. He wondered absently whether Armand had been there since he’d arrived with Daemiir, or before that. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t noticed, he’d been too preoccupied by his new surroundings to notice a presence already within the circular tower. One that he wouldn’t recognise as a threat subconsciously.

 Many things were considered silently as he sought out his lover’s position, the quiet chuckle helping him to hone in on his position all the quicker. His gaze landed on him finally, eyes softening in response as a smile curved his lips at the sight which he soaked in silently, though much of his body was covered by the instrument that was tucked against him in a familiar manner. Still he could see enough to recognise it as Armand – long blood red strands pulled back at his nape and the familiar elegant old-style suit that suited him so well.

 Luciefel’s expression altered for a moment, a glint of displeasure at the comment though it was gone just as quickly, replaced instead by a mild pout. Age was a touchy subject for him, which his lover was aware and possibly the reason why he enjoyed needling him from time to time, but the comment was said in jest. Additionally there was some truth in them – it really shouldn’t have taken so long to notice Armand.

 Long legs ate up the distance as he moved closer to his lover’s side. Once he was close enough he laid one pale hand against the Cello, conscious of the instrument even as he leaned both against it and over the chair that Armand sat in. His other hand settled on the back of his chair as platinum strands trailed over his shoulders as his gaze drifted towards his lover’s lips before shifting back up to meet ebony orbs, “I do not remember there ever being an intention for you to leave my side. I welcome your company always.”
[/font]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - SilentMystery - 04-28-2015

[size=small]Location: Music Tower
Target Role Player: [/font] Armand wasn't usually a sexual being, but there was just something attractive about the way the sunlight shown upon Luciefel while he approached. The streams of light, some tinted, danced upon his lover's hair and clothing, and curved around a figure he knew so intimately. With Luciefel's complexion, the colors seemed much more radiant upon his skin, almost as if they reflected off his person, unable to contain themselves on a body that should technically be too holy to touch.

 It was at that point that the corner of his lips twitched upward in a mild smirk. Oh... there have been many, many touches despite that theory. Perhaps that's why the image was so attractive to him... He took pride in tainting the precious bits of purity in this world, and it caused a deep joy within him at the results.

 In any case, when the male was close enough to touch, Armand did so, drawing up an arm to loosely wrap around the other's waist, while the remaining hand stayed upon the cello to support it. The gesture was significant in the fact that he was once again claiming the other and taking hold of him in some subtle and possessive fashion.

 At his lover's words, he responded quietly, <font color="#f1374d]"That is true. I would not leave your side. Though I shouldn't complain... If you are not careful, then perhaps I might have a little bit of fun."[/font] Though said quietly, one could not miss the darker intentions of that statement - whether or not it was meant for the person dangerous to Luciefel or Luciefel himself. His thumb rubbed the other's hip, and he didn't miss the slight flicker of the other male's gaze. <font color="#f1374d]"Hm... What brings you here, my chosen? Looking for some fun of your own?"[/font]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Angel Kimmi - 04-29-2015

[/img]"http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh490/Kim_Irvine/sidebar3.png" style="max-width:35%;float:left;margin:0 18px;" style="avatar] <font color="cd43f8] A curious glint appearing in his eyes when he saw the smirk. He wondered silently just what it was that Armand was thinking that caused such an expression, though he had no doubt it was something wicked. His lover’s mind was as much a mystery as Armand complained his was, though it pleased him immensely that it was becoming easier over time for them to understand one another, for theirs was definitely not a relationship that had started with sunshine and roses.

 He made a soft sound of pleasure as the arm slid around his waist, completely complacent within the familiar hold. Still Luciefel was mindful of the instrument that was settled somewhat between them as they played their little game. His amusement peaked slightly at his lover’s words, fully aware of what kind of ‘fun’ it was that his lover referred to when paired with the look in those ebony eyes.

 To be honest Luciefel enjoyed any excuse to listen to his lover’s voice. It was rich and dark that teased and seduced the senses. Unfortunately for him his lover could be a man of few words at times, it was a shame when he enjoyed letting the sound of his voice surround him. One day soon he was going to have to try and coerce him into reading a book to him or poetry.

 But he regressed, caught in his inner musings as his gaze once more slipping towards the other male’s lips. He hadn’t missed the words despite his preoccupation. Still he leaned down the rest of the way, silvery-white strands falling freely as he stopped scant centimetres from his lover’s lips. He murmured softly, “Ah that is true…I’m sure you’d enjoy the opportunity for a bit of fun, but I do not see myself being in any immediate danger as of yet. Though I am certain you would be just as thrilled to see me slip.”

 As the thumb rubbed at his hip causing fabric to shift up slightly, he pressed his lips against Armand’s almost chastely before he nipped playfully at his bottom lip. Eyes glimmered softly as he said, “Would you be terribly upset if I said I was just bored and this is just where I ended up?”
[/font]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Angel Kimmi - 04-30-2015

<img style="avatar" src="http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh490/Kim_Irvine/banner3_1.png" style="max-width:35%;float:left;margin:0 18px;] Likèreal walked towards the familiar building with his hands in his pockets, his smooth strides eating up the distance before he pushed open the large door and stepped inside. It was dry in here at least though he wouldn’t exactly say it was ‘warm’ but that was to be expected in a building this size without the same crowd of guests that had been there the first time he’d visited.

 It had been a few days since he’d been there and he felt a little bad about the sudden absence. One that hadn’t been exactly planned, business had gotten in the way…the unavoidable kind that needed his attention, ruining his plans and dragging him reluctantly away. His feelings were not because he thought that he would be specifically missed after such a brief interlude, though he’d be lying if he wasn’t hoping that he might have been. For in his own way he had missed the company he had only known for a short while, the occupants of this place had caused quite the impression on the Fallen already.

 It wasn’t every day that you found someone like Saint, he’d made an impression and one that went beyond the fantastic sex. The memory of soft purr like sounds and of teeth against his neck providing pleasure beyond imagining. Rough and soft…teasing and demanding, like silk and leather. The cravings and delight, the whispered promises that they had exchanged that mixed with the scent of spice, musk and tabacco.

 ‘Aya he thought with a faint smile, what was it that he’d said he tasted like? Honeysuckle…?

 Still there had been an ease within Saint’s company that had gone beyond random sex. He appreciated someone that he could spend time with in the aftermath without it being awkward, and especially one that didn’t mind affection and some teasing innuendo. Still, some part of him had missed the vampire, which had led to replaying their time together over in his mind and that had led to relieving himself multiple times.

 “Mm…which reminds me, now is probably not the time to be thinking about the fantastic sex,” he murmured quietly to himself as his body responded to the thoughts even as the honeyed gaze wandered. The place looked so different without the throngs of bodies everywhere, and was that smoke that he could smell? The alarm went off briefly before going silent again, leaving him to wonder if it was something he should be concerned about or not.
[/font]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Angel Kimmi - 04-30-2015

<img style="avatar" src="http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh490/Kim_Irvine/sidebar-1.png" style="max-width:35%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]
 <font color="9ce619] Saydri’s nose caught the scent of salt but he didn’t fully realise that the scent was coming from the young woman until he had approached her to give her the glass. Was she sad? That emotion didn’t seem quite right despite the tears, still she smelled of the sea – a mix of rain and salt as it crashed against the rocks amid a storm. The storm of her emotions.

 “Of course, there is always next time,” he agreed quietly.

 Ah there it was, he’d been given a name thanks to Ruka and the young woman had obviously adopted the nickname since his actual name had not been provided. He sighed softly even as he cocked his head to the side as she reorganised her belongings again and he was confused mildly as it seemed to him she was getting ready to leave. Was she going to leave despite Ruka’s confirmation that she would be able to stay? Was that what she’d meant by ‘next time’?

 “Don't cry Lyta.” He leaned over the bench, moving slowly as to not to scare her – she seemed very skittish, reminding him of a deer or a rabbit. If he scared her he'd probably get another earful from Ruka, but that wasn't the reason for his gentleness. He didn't want to see her cry or the familiar flash of fear that showed in many people around him. Silver eyes gazed down at her as he very gently he brushed his thumb across the wetness on her cheeks and beneath her eyes.

 “Saydri,” he said gently with small smile. “Panther is a nickname Ruka likes to use.”
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