RP:Not a Demand, But an Offer
Synopsis: Zahrani encounters Dezmara once more, this time in the old coral castle. The two show off their skills, and share a moment of closeness and dance in the light of Hollow's moons.
Delapidated Coral Castle
Dezmara had settled herself in a nice little clearing towards the center of the ruins. What was most likely a dining hall or a chamber for gathering in ages past, now just a collection of broken pillars and sun bleached stone. The draconian stands as a statue, body kept at a slightly sideways stance, her feet bare on the soft moss. She wore a pair of soft leather leggings, and for a top she wore a simple cotton crop top, something she typically wore under her armor for comfort. Across her back was a quiver with black shafted arrows filling it. In her hand she held a bow, made of wood native to a small island chain far south and east, a gift to the draconian from a small village of elves that had retained her services for a minor incident involving slavers. The target was set up on an elevated broken pillar some 75 yards away, slowly the bow raised, amethyst eyes never leaving the target. Her right hand slipped up just over her shoulder to finger the fletching of an arrow as her other arm came into line with the target. Muscles flow as easily as water it was a single fluid motion her arm drawing out an arrow, notching, drawing it and losing. The action repeated again and again, three arrows away in a little over as many heartbeats. Each one after another burying deep into the posted target, forming a triangle inside the targets center, her hand resting once more, rolling another arrows fletching, ready to send another volley; though she seemed pleased with the grouping. Not so far from her, on a large stone coral slab rested the rest of the draconian’s gear, a neatly folded grey traveling coat, her boots, and a vest of mithril scales. A pair of blades also rested on the slab, a long two handed, single edged elven blade with a subtle curve to its elegant design. The second was a miniature dagger form of the long blade. The sword itself was nondescript save for a small rose etched into the mithril blade at its base, just before the hilt. A small satchel rests to the side of the slab, housing the rest of Dezmara’s traveling supplies. The draconian rolled the bow in her hand, free hand plucking at the string almost like an instrument. Nothing of the woman herself had changed, save for her thick mane of curly hair. It was much shorter, no longer past her shoulders; it now was a curly thicket just to her neck. The shifting gray scale still running through the shorter curls, her long mane of hair would have gotten in the way of the arrows quivered on her back, the hair choice one out of necessity more than anything else. “Not that rusty.” She was pleasantly surprised at that, as it’s been a while since she had picked up the bow.
Zahrani silently walks through the coral castle, the feline catching a recently-familiar scent. The panther wears a sleeveless breastplate, leggings, and plate boots. The edges of the plating near her joints were fitted with leather to muffle any clanking noise the armor would have made. She might be more comfortable in an open battlefield than many of her kin, but she still doesn't like to make too much noise. The soft twanging of a bow reaches her ears, followed by the tell-tale impact of an arrow to a target. Turning a corner, the paladin enters the cleared area where Dezmara was practicing. She surveys the woman's form while she fires, then her cyan gaze wanders to her gear to check its condition and location. As for her own armaments, the panther carries a well-balanced mace on her utility belt, and over her shoulder a crossbow and bolts sit comfortably up against her back. Her dreads were tied back and pulled into a rough bun behind her head, for safety and practicality. She also carries a spear in her right hand; a versatile tool that would act as a vaulting pole, a walking stick, or even a javelin in a pinch.She still wears that same heartbreaking face that she had when she first met Dezmara. With a warm smile, Rani looks from the arrows in the target then back to Dez, simply saying, "Not a bad grouping."
Dezmara caught the increasingly familiar scent as the panther entered the little clearing; smiling sweetly the draconian turned to face the newcomer. ”I’ve done better, but I haven’t used a bow for a while, opting more for my sword and close combat. But one can’t let themselves get too rusty.” Leaning lightly on her bow she lets her eyes flick up and down the form of the feline, taking in every curve of her armor, appraising the paladin before her. “I didn’t think you used a mace; I like it. Direct to the point and savage, yet beautiful in a way.” She casts a playful wink; was that appraisal for just the mace, or something more? Slowly the draconian moved to the slab that held her other gear; rolling the bow around slowly she set it down, then unslinging the quiver she rested that next to the bow. Arching her back slowly for a stretch, a soft moan from the muscles stretching out and relaxing, then she scooped up her curved dagger and started to casually roll and flip it from hand to hand, hardly seeming to pay attention to the actions of her hands as she leaned against the slab, watching Zahrani. A playful smile stretches across her full lips as she simply enjoys the sight of the armored woman.
Zahrani grins at the draconian's compliment, the bottom of her spear gently tapping the floor as she approaches. Her tail swishes idly behind her. She looks from the dagger dancing from one hand to the other, then back at the face of its owner. The paladin's grin remains as her eyes meet those amethyst hues, "You look happy to see me. The feeling is mutual." The panther looks back at the target 75 yards away, debating whether or not she should show off as well, seeing as the draconian had no problems doing so. "Mind if I...borrow your target?" It seems like the polite and safe thing to do; among friends and allies, Rani makes it a point to be clear about where she intends to unleash a spear or a crossbow bolt. It would also give Dez a chance to retrieve her arrows, if she so wished.
Dezmara nodded as Zahrani correctly called that the draconian was indeed pleased to see her - who wouldn’t be pleased to see such a beauty? - though she knew that not all shared her particular list of likes and dislikes. “You can borrow whatever you wish.” was the playful reply as the draconian turned to jog the distance to the target and, with little effort, scrambles up the shattered pillar to pull free her arrows. Hopping from the target she would then jog back. “If you break it, you owe me something, to be determined by myself at a later date.” The warning is accented by her slapping the bunched arrows across her open hand and giving a so very playful half smile, but for now the draconian slips behind the panther, sliding up to sit on the stone slab, readying for the show. Eyes falling to the fletching of the arrows in hand, slowly they would inch towards the fluffy ears of her feline companion when she let her attention slip to the target, her movements stealthy. This too was a kind of training; playing-training, but training none the less.
Zahrani looks up at the draconian after she warns her not to break the target, simply responding with a playful, "Noted." As she watches the woman jog away to retrieve her arrows, the panther rests her spear on a wall, reaching up behind her to ready her crossbow and one of her bolts. She pulls back on the string mechanism with ease, a near-autonomous motion that she had clearly done many times before, nocking the bolt and waiting for Dezmara to take a seat. The feline scans down-range, checking the target and the backstop (making sure there's a solid wall behind it) should she miss. With steady breath, she raises the crossbow, the fur on her ears and tail keeping her clued in for any wind movement. She takes her time with her first shot, letting the bolt loose with a clicking sound. She didn't have to aim that high to account for distance, given the draw-weight on the crossbow. Like a longbow's arrow, there's some arc to it, albeit very shallow. The bolt embeds itself just above the center of the target, near where an enemy's head would be. Without a word, she pulls three more bolts from her quiver, fluidly pulling back on the crossbow, nocking the bolt, aiming and firing each one after the other. Those three embed themselves in a not-too-shabby-for-75 yards triangle in the center.
Dezmara had lost herself in the sight that was the trained paladin work her crossbow, her teasing arrows never finding their mark on the soft plushy ears as the fluidity and strength of the panther was on display and the draconian was lost in it all. When the final bolt fired from the crossbow was when she was finally able to take her eyes from the sight and look to the target. From this distance with that type of weapon the grouping was rather impressive. “Most every time I see a crossbow user, they use it because they don’t have the finesse or skill to use a bow. But watching you work nearly made me swoon.” The flatness of her tone showed that there was no play to her words; she truly thought the sight of the feline handling the crossbow to be one of the most beautiful things she has seen in some time. Shaking her head to snap herself from her little world of enthrallment the sell-sword gives a soft chuckle. “Shame though you didn’t break my target.” Hopping from her seat the draconian picked up the discarded spear letting her fingers slide along its shaft to feel its sturdiness, a few measured spins to test its weight. “So how is the colony faring? I trust you remain free of the blight.”
Zahrani turns to the draconian, chuckling softly at her words before glancing down at her ranged weapon, "I can use a longbow in a pinch, but I like the distance that a crossbow bolt can travel. I usually move from one location to the another after each shot, so I have time to quickly reload as well." This paladin has seen more than a few intense fights. Her style of fighting, even at range, requires her to be constantly moving to keep her from being a target for an enemy volley. Fire once from behind cover, move while reloading so your enemy can't get a bead on you, then fire from somewhere else. "We cats are ambush hunters, and we like our guerilla tactics." Speaking of cats, Zahrani then responds to the woman's question, "Things are relatively quiet. We have a couple cubs who are sick, but we caught it early. We're keeping them isolated and well taken care of." There's no way they'd be able to completely avoid it, even with their expertise when it came to keeping out vermin and disease. Her cyan eyes wander to her spear, before glancing back at the target. With a slight grin, she asks right up front "So if I were to break that, what would I owe you?" Good information to have, you know. In case she decided to really show off.
Dezmara ’s own fighting style leans more on the close and quick, using her bow to funnel targets and pick off stragglers and then closing in and finishing the job with her sword. Though if the occasion called for it, range and stealth could be applied; she just doesn’t find it as much fun. The draconian gave a soft smile as she hears that for the most part the colony is staying free of the sickness, and that those that do fall ill are seen to quickly; that is the only way to beat a sickness such as this. Early treatment is the best way to ensure survival. A few jabs with the spear, more playing with it now than actually testing it out, but that question did make the draconian stop and think for a moment. “You would owe me a dance. I would allow you to choose the type of dance, but I would get final say in your choice.” Flipping the spear so that it was handed to the feline butt stock first, the draconian wore her ever present playful smile. “Up to you to take the risk.” Honestly what risk was there, making it seem as if she was holding life or death with the threat of a dance.
Zahrani raises a brow at the woman's suggestion. A dance? Accepting the spear in hand, she twirls it until her hand reaches a marked portion of the shaft about midway down. "You know...if you wanted to keep your target intact, we could just do that anytime." It then dawns on her that their respective cultures might view the prospect of dancing a bit differently, so she holds the spear like a walking stick once more and adds, "In our colony, dancing is just as much a part of our lives as walking the street, or swimming. The moons will be bright tonight, and it's the end of the work week. We wouldn't you want to dance?" The panther offers a warm smile, taking a couple steps towards the draconian while she gazes up at her face.
Dezmara nodded in agreement that there could be any number of things she could have asked for, and a dance was far from devastating of stakes; but also, she had seen the way the feline had moved when using her crossbow. Why would she ever not want to see more of the same, though done in an act of enjoyment and pleasure? “You have a point, but is it not custom for dragons to demand shows of skill and the occasional sensuality by the races that aren’t dragons?” She meets the panther’s two steps with her own, now so very close to the armored paladin, having to angle her head down just slightly to keep the lock with those cyan orbs. “Or have I missed something and should I make another request, since you plan on dancing later…” she left that thought open for the panther to finish, the draconian resisting greatly the urge to let her hands fall to the hips of Zahrani and pull her in the last little distance between them; she bites her lower lip softly and manages a little half smile.
Zahrani takes in the draconian's words, leaning slightly against her spear. In response to the question about demanding things from other races, the feline cannot help but chuckle. With a swift upward-then-downward motion, the paladin embeds the butt of her spear into the coral floor beneath them, the weapon finding purchase in a more porous section and standing like a flagpole on its own. She crosses her arms, offering a wry grin and taking another step forward, saying, "Oh, my dear Dezmara...how well do you think the average feline responds to someone's 'demands?'" Part of her could sense the desire in the other woman; with a soft inhale and exhale, she looks up and sweetly responds, "If there is something you desire from me, all you have to do is ask...let me decide whether or not to give it to you. I can do the same." She retreats a couple steps back, before extending a hand and saying, "But yes, broken target or not, I invite you to come dancing with me tonight…"
Dezmara would chastise herself for being so transparent with her desire, but she always had had problems hiding such from those she found so very beautiful; alas the curse of the draconian and her few faults. “I feel it would vary from person to person.. I feel you would not be so troubled by my demands, well I would hope.” Then the panther danced back a step or two and Dezmara managed to hold off instant pursuit. “Then should I think up another demand?” after taking a moment and a deep steadying breath she closed the distance and lightly took the offered hand. “Maybe a demand you would be less inclined to give me outright?” she slid up closer to the feline now, hands still locked, letting her amethyst orbs fall to the clasped hands and then slowly down the panthers arm and finally coming to rest on her visage, that playful half smile growing to a genuine smile of enjoyment. “Maybe I should demand a kiss?” her voice soft, but easily heard with their closeness, her body language more than agreeing to the request of a dance.
Zahrani can't help but find Dezmara's use of the word 'demand' strange. She speaks quietly enough for just the two of them, "For us, the word "demand" is used in more...adversarial context. For those I care about, I value the agency to give what I wish and receive from others what they are willing to offer." Enclosing the draconian's hand in her own, the panther decides to reword the situation and give an example. With a smile, she looks at Dezmara's lips, then back up at her eyes, and asks, "May I give you a kiss?"
Dezmara can honestly say the context in which she was using the word confused her. Though for the draconian, the whole concept of it was a mild lesson in life as she, for the most part, tended to shy away from getting too close to people and too attached, as her life has honestly been one travesty after another; and it all had left her with a rather unhealthy habit of keeping people at arms distance, a habit she was actively trying to cast off. The simplicity of the question made Dezmara blink, why had she not simply put it like that, why does everything have to be a demand? “I have never thought of it that way…” the draconian who thinks herself worldly now feels rather silly in it all, and is quite glad of her darker skin should she show how embarrassed she felt at that moment. “Yes…” she answered simply as she calmed with a deep breath. “I would like that very much.” She would allow the panther to lead the kiss, it just seeming right thought she would lean in slowly to compensate for the difference in height.
Zahrani grins as she stands up on her toes a bit, raising her right hand to Dezmara's cheek and using her left hand to hold the draconian's and steady herself. As they close the distance between each other, the feline gently lets her forehead rest against Dezmara's, before pressing her lips against the other woman's. She breathes steadily, the warm air leaving her nose and playing across their faces.
Dezmara nearly melts when the feline inches up towards her. Eyes closing lightly as their foreheads touch, the draconian taking in the scent of the feline just before her lips touch. Draconian arms drape around the smaller feline, hands coming to rest on her hips as she holds her close, head angling to the side just a hair as she savors the feel of the feline’s lips pressed to hers. Unable to stifle it, a soft hint of a moan purred from Dez as her hold on the panther’s hips grows just a little tighter, not seeming to want the kiss to end. Though end she knows it must, so ever so gently she broke the kiss, but does not draw back, keeping her forehead pressed to the other’s. Wanting to hold onto the moment for as long as she could, before giving up and pressing a second soft kiss upon the panther, taking care to not press too hard into the tender moment.
Zahrani smiles from ear to ear after they eventually pull their faces away from each other, her head still resting against Dez's for that treasured moment between them. There's a hint of a blush on her dark cheeks, her hands interlacing with the draconian's as she drops back down to her heels. Her cyan eyes rest on their hands, taking in every detail before looking up and saying, "You look...and feel...and are wonderful." The room begins to darken as the sun sets. To the keen of hearing, the sounds of people playing drums and string instruments could be heard in the distance. In the fading light, beneath the watchful eyes of Arh'Nuk and Vaalane, Hollow's two moons, the feline enclave was truly beginning to come to life.
Dezmara laments the ending of the kiss, but all good things come to an end, but she could savor the taste of the woman’s lips “Yourself as well, Lady Zahrani. You are perfection come to life.” The steady beat of the drums dancing along the cooling breeze that comes in from the ocean as the moons rise in the dimming sky only causes the draconian’s smile to widen. “Does the beat call you home or do I get that promised dance?” her tail swaying in hopeful optimism, though she already will forever remember this evening for the kiss alone. Anything more would be icing on the perfect evening.
Zahrani takes in the look of joy on Dezmara's face as they linger, her own tail swaying in delight. The sea breeze flows into the coral castle to meet them, the feline pondering what to do next. She glances up at the opening in the roof, seeing the moons peeking through. To the draconian, the panther says, "Let's dance in the moonlight together for a bit." She doesn't care how skillfully or in what way her partner dances; as long as they are both enjoying it, that's what's important.
Dezmara was delighted with the answer, her tail betraying her and swaying a little faster in excitement. “I would very much enjoy that.” With that she would lead the panther into the moonlight, the silvery light flooding through like spotlights for the pair. The draconian hasn’t had much experience in dancing that didn’t involve a good amount of alcohol and a table, but life was about learning new things. In silence she stood bathed in the moonlight, the hints of ebony scales lining her jaw and a few spots along her arms seemed to catch the light and start to glow just a little. She let the beat of the drums take her; slowly her hips moving to the beat of the feline colony. Eyes cracking open slowly; like her scales, a hint of a glow seemed to have come to those pools of amethyst. A hand extends to the panther, beckoning her to join in.
Zahrani follows the woman into the light, her breastplate giving off its own moonlit glow as she stretches a bit. She begins swaying to the rhythm, her body flowing like water as she grins and takes Dezmara's hand. She matches the draconian's movements, admiring the ebon scale and caramel skin of her dance partner. She gyrates, twirls, swings her hips and arms; she lets her body speak. Their dance is a beautiful conversation guided by their hearts, and the beat of the drum, and the melody of the dulcimer and flute.
Dezmara matches the flowing movements of the feline with ease, their training in combat translating nicely into the dance they share. Time stops being a factor in that moment; all that mattered was the sound of the flowing music and the feeling of the other woman, the only other person in the whole of the world. Her tail swaying up to run along the tail of the feline as their bodies sway in tandem.
Zahrani takes note of the moons' positions; this is way too much fun. She doesn't want to leave so soon, but alas, she must. She pauses for a moment, waiting for Dezmara to also stop dancing. She wraps her arms around the woman's waist, giving her a nice hug before looking up and saying, "It's time for me to head back. I'll see you soon." She plants another kiss on the draconian's lips, before reluctantly pulling away, grabbing her gear, and preparing to depart.
Dezmara had not even noticed how late it had gotten, so consumed with the dance and the woman before her that she had not noticed how far the moons have gone across the dark sky. She relished the feeling of the other womans hands on her waist and returned the kiss wholeheartedly; she could get used to kissing this woman. “Very soon.” The draconian purred as her tail gave a playful swat to the backside of the departing feline. “Don’t get into too much trouble.” Calling out after her as she grins like a fool and continues to spin in the moonlight, humming softly to herself.
Zahrani feels a draconian tail hit her armored leggings, the feline offering the woman a cheeky grin, "I'll try not to." With spear in hand, she's off into the night, to rendezvous with friends and family. The grin never leaves her face; it's a good night to be free and to love others.