RP:One Last Taste

From HollowWiki

Summary: Quintessa and Kasyr provide fan service. They tell each other this is the last time before they give into their lust once again.


House Dragana

Towering over the abyssal forest, the dark mass of House Dragana is no less eerie than the vegetation, or lack thereof, in which it stands. The mansion's outer perimeters are flanked by the twisting trees and there are no gates to prevent the seemingly less desirable denizens of the forest from trespassing upon the property. A sleek, obsidian walkway runs from the house's entry to the path. The only source of light without comes form wrought-iron lanterns that are placed on either side of the walkway, spaced perfectly from one another. Within them, an eldritch glow of a deep, verdant hue flickers. Those brave enough to approach House Dragana's doors will be greeted with iron knockers bearing blackened skulls, their eyes set with emeralds that glow with the same light from the lanterns. Within the house's walls, there is no shortage of decadence. Only the most elegant of furniture is placed throughout its rooms. A grand staircase of blackened wood leads to the upper levels, where rooms for those that reside within the house can be found. Midway up, the stairs split to the left and right, spiraling upward. Here, there is a landing with a set of double doors that leads to a large ballroom. The lower level of the house plays host to a dining area and kitchen, though rarely used, a grandiose library filled with grimoires and tomes, and a small museum of artifacts collected by the house's residents. Though there appear to be no candles to light the way, an ethereal glow floods the innards of the house, providing ample reading light - undoubtedly arcane in origin. Dark magic is weaved into the house's existence as a measure of protection.


Kasyr aches, an agonizing sensation that serves to remind him that he's still alive, before making him regret that state of being when he shifts, his body resisting the motion. The dull roar behind his temples only magnifies his reluctance to open his eyes, making the prospect of nestling back into the dulling bliss of unconsciousness a bit more pleasent. And yet there's something about the comfort of this situation that presents it's own source of unease- if only because of the manner the Kensai's recently habituated himself to slovenly crashing whenever exhaustion finally caught up to him. With a quiet sigh, Kasyr finally manages to crack his eyes open, a gaze that's more crimson then amber blearily trying to pick out something familiar to latch onto. It's the way the room swims that has him trying to shift again, that sensation of being moored to the spot remaining with him even as he finally musters the effort to roll over and take in the sight of the rest of the room. Or he would, were Quintessa not what he finds himself facing, realization finally dawning upon him, that it was not just exhaustion that had held him down. He closes his eyes again, fragments of half remembered images starting to rattle off inside his brain, as the prior evening starts to clarify in his mind. For a moment, the pain subsides, replaced inside by the phantom ache of the prior evening, and he finds himself clenching his hands to hold himself still. "Enfer." And then his vision dips again, and he can feel himself breathing a little easier, despite the effort it takes to tilt back into a sitting position, to brace against the sheer feeling of rawness that seems to have taken hold of his body, and especially his neck.


Quintessa is already awake by the time Kasyr stirs. Even after the hours of rigorous 'training' they did last night, the changeling only allowed sleep to take her for an hour and a half before the realization of what she had done jolts her awake. How could she sleep when her fantasies were real? This was a dream come true! When she hears the kensai sigh, her body shifts away from the shrine with the mithril scalpel, mismatched eyes slowly tracing up his body where she had left her mark on him. A bite here, a scratch there. Kasyr was left victim to a lot of Quintessa's pent-up and unresolved frustration and it showed. "Mon amour," she breaths, crawling closer to press her body against his chest, "Finally awake?" The changeling giggles softly, the dark cloud that had followed her around for a month finally lifted. A slender hand moves to hold him down, "Don't get up. You still haven't recovered." Her smile shifts into a smirk, her mirth undeniable. "Would you like another one of my potions? Or perhaps I should send for a healer... Oh, no, that would cause suspicion." Quintessa shifts again to sit up her hand rubbing a spot on her neck she didn't realize was sore. She grins, her amusement betraying the fact that the taboo around what they had done was either lost on her or she didn't care about it. It was most definitely the latter. "Would you like a cigarette?" the hex blades asks, turning around to give Kasyr a good look at her backside while she crawls to the foot of the bed to grab her silver case that hung precariously on the side of the table they had sat at last night.


Kasyr s' mind seizes up a little at the Quintessa's approach, and the satisfaction that just seemed to roll off of her. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but just for a moment, there's the distinct sense of Quintessa being a cat, and him a freshly caught canary. He doesn't even fully take notice of her hand at his chest until he feels himself sinking back down into the bed, and even then, he finds himself more concerned with not taking hold of her wrist then providing any resistance. It's only after a few moments that he manages the clarity of thought to offer up a wry, "I wonder why." One hand falls to his face, sliding up to his forehead as though it might somehow support the raging headache he's so rightfully earned. Still, he seems fairly close to mustering the effort to try and sit up again when she mentions a healer, only relaxing backwards again when it seems like she's teasing. "I'm beginning to wonder if you don't enjoy having a test subject, Madamoiselle. You certainly seem fond of provoking reactions, enfin." Quintessa's question, and the ensuing view are hard to miss, the swordsman lingering on them both, until he finally tilts his gaze up towards the ceiling. "I don't think I could say no right now, enfin." He winces a little, more at himself than anything, his eyes pressing shut as he tries to dispel another intrusive thought. "I would have thought that pet name would have been reserved for another."


Quintessa turns and slithers her way back over to Kasyr's side, pale digits freeing a cigarette from her case to bring to the lips of her teacher. "Hmm, for the moment I think it fits." she relaxes, her elbow resting in the crook of his arm while her hand propped her head up. The changeling pauses to stare at him a moment, a sense of calm washing over her before she snapped her fingers to produce a small flame for him to light the cigarette with. "Test subject, you say?" a devious smile relaces the old one, "If you're volunteering I've got lots of experiments I'd like to run on you. So far I've -actually- been trying to help you." She waits for Kasyr to take a few drags from the cigarette before she reaches to take it from him, placing between her own lips for a taste. "I'm sure this is awkward for you," There is a tease of a snicker at the end of that sentence as her arm reaches over to flick the ashes as close to the floor as she could get. "Don't worry, I can be discreet." She takes a long drag from their cigarette before she places it back in Kasry's possession.


Kasyr actually manages to regret shutting his eyes, the lack of focus on the world around him briefly making that urge to reach out and pluck at those empathic strands a bit harder to resist. The sheer ease in which Quintessa's taken to the situation almost makes the Kensai want to pry, and yet, finds himself bracing against that temptation to know. Instead, he's left matching his gaze with Quin, the cigarette hanging off his lips. "I meant what I said last night." And then he's taking a drag from the cigarette, because there is a lot to cover in that alone, and her next comment is ... arguably safer. "Because of my current nature, or because of our current situation?" After a drawn out puff, he finds himself quietly adding, "Though, I'm not complaining about the help. You have been--" The smokes pilfered then, and he can feel his tongue pressing up against the inside of his cheek. "Well, this certainly adds fuel to 'Being fired for being irresponsible, anyways." He's flushed, at this point, he's almost sure of it- but that final statement is enough to at least provoke a questioning "Mmm?" as he tilts his head off to the side with a specific emphasis on showcasing her not-so-subtle handiwork. That small jab aside, the Kensai takes a draw from the cigarette, before he simply flips it around and offers it to the changeling, "-That- isn't my concern." He pauses there, trying not to dwell too long on the thoughts, before he carefully adds, " And I think you know that."


Quintessa takes the cigarette and sits up, her satisfaction finally beginning to waver as she starts to think about where things would go from here. "I'll be the judge of that." She hoards the cloves cig for a moment as she contemplates what Kasyr was asking. "Both, I suppose... I always found humans to be such squishy things, but you put up a decent fight last night." the changeling sticks out her tongue at him through a loose grin, "I'm sure after a few more tries I can get the potions right..." She purses her lips, "What's -that- look for?" Quintessa thinks to pass the cigarette back to Kasyr, but it's so short at this point it there's little point. Idly, she reaches over to the end table to stamp it out in the empty, ceramic ash tray before she instinctively lights a new one. "What is your concern then, monsieur?" Her slender digits reach out to pass the fresh cigarette to him before they slink back to rub the love marks on her neck. "Are you wondering where we stand after this?" She was mixed on that. On one hand ensnaring Kasyr Azakhaer would ensure her political success, but on the other she didn't want to mix business and pleasure. Things were already pretty mixed up though now anyway, weren't they?


Kasyr feels something twist inside him at that quintessentially stubborn response, but he can't find the right words to respond, the proper justification to do anything more than tilt his head back and think. At least until she's back on course about the experiments, and potions, ""Makes it a little worrisome that you needed to specify that was you were trying to help, then." The banter helps, a bit- something to focus on, to fill what might otherwise be empty air. Like the sort that lingers in the wake of her passing him the cigarette. A part of him wants to simply retreat behind the act of smoking, but he finds himself rolling it between his fingers instead, fixating on the burning cherry. It's the second question that forces him to look up at her, his eyes tracing over his handiwork for a few moments longer than he should, before tilting up towards her gaze. "Same thing. J'pense." His throat tightens up for a moment, and he goes to take a drag, to keep the cigarette lit, before gesturing towards Quintessa with it, "And it's that I'm your teacher." There's a lie in that, perhaps, but the Kensai's trying to pick up momentum, "I shouldn't have let you." And it's made a little bit easier by looking just a little bit past her, "Discreet, ou non."


Quintessa slowly reaches out to grab the cigarette from him, concern that this might have had greater consequences than anticipated. She blows the bit of hair that hangs between her eyes away before placing the cigarette in her mouth to take a hit. "I know," she already knew her feelings for the swordsman were twisted up with her need to impress him as a student, but the revelation didn't seem to stoke the attraction she felt for him. "But it just- Mmm. Didn't our bodies fit so well together? It doesn't matter that you're my teacher, I would have done it anyway." Quintessa isn't lying. She leans down to rest with him again, placing her head on Kasyr's shoulder before taking a quick drag, being careful not to burn him. "And we both needed that. I could tell. I've fantasied about this moment since I first read about you. Even before I snuck to Cenril to grab one of your wanted posters. But I never expected it to be so..." she trails off, looking for the right word. "Spectacular." The spooky girl passes the cigarette back to the kensai, letting her pale hand rest on his chest. "You felt something last night, admit it." Mismatched eyes stare up at him expectantly for a moment.


Kasyr s lips quirk, a twisting combination of exasperation and a smirk wrestling for control, before it finally settles for something close to incredulousness. There's a part of him that very much -knows- he shouldn't be surprised. Her interest had been practically palpable in so many moments, but the memory of the clocktower plays especially fiercely in his mind. The way she'd practically oozed with excitement, her shoulder pressed to the wall when his composure finally broke. It takes Kasyr a moment to realize the feeling of her skin beneath his hand is actually there, his fingers having slipped back to that familiar spot. Was it every little bit of glee she seemed to express at the situation itself, or was it simply the fact that for a moment, it seemed so hard to say, "No. " to her. His breath slows, the cigarette seemingly gone unnoticed as he tries to get his bearings on the situation. "I think we've already established I'm not what you've read in your books, cherie." A pause, and he breathes out, "Quintessa." Sliding his hand over to the headboard helps, but it's so hard to pull his attention elsewhere, "I'm not a mistake you," He shakes his head slightly, and then carefully adds, "We should make."


Quintessa melts at Kasyr's touch, her desire dripping over him as he explores depths of her soul no one but he had access to. Deep. Endless. Inviting. The cigarette was left to burn out somewhere as the fires deep inside of her are reignited, the coals still warm from last night. When he whispers her name she lets out a soft moan, her body coiling around Kasyr in a gentle embrace. "No, not like the books," her pale fingers tremble as reaches to touch his face, her lips brushing against the flesh of the swordsman's neck. "You're better." The changeling's pointed teeth slip out from under her lips as she speaks, threatening to add more wounds to his already mauled throat. "If this is a mistake," Quintessa whispers, her mouth hovering next to Kasyr's ear now, "I don't want to be right."


Kasyr can feel himself shiver at the sheer heat of her touch, the way her voice issues out like asweet poison, seeping into his thoughts and dredging up echoes of itself. His fingers fit to her body so well, already starting to find familiar spots to trace, as he draws her back to gain some small vestige of distance. When her hands fall to his face, it takes every bit of effort he has not to nip at them, whether out of some misplaced spite, or a more mischievous want. It's with some effort that he finally manages to add, "And what if I want to be." And then, more levelly, "I don't want to ruin you." Even if she'd let him. If she'd want him to. If he'd enjoy it. That bleak little whisper lurks at the back of his mind, and it's suddenly all that much harder to look her in the eyes. There's something in that intensity that's ever so dangerous. "To ruin everything you've worked towards."


Quintessa knows they can't keep this up. She knows that it's wrong, but she cannot pull herself from from his allure, from his touch, from the way the words roll off of his tongue. That accent that she's grown so fond of, as is obvious from the stray words she's picked up in an attempt to intergrade a piece of him inside of her. Quintessa isn't satisfied with just that, however, she craves more of Kasyr. More of the passion from last night. The changeling leaves soft kisses back down his neck as he speaks, her body shifting so that she's straddling the Kensai. "Ruin me?" she giggle at him her other hand moving to his chest to brace herself as she kisses under his chin, "There's nothing you can do further corrupt what I am. I'm as low as you can get. It's you who should be worried about me, some lowly peasant ruining your reputation." Quintessa's thighs tighten around Kasyr as she lowers her body down his, her kisses trailing down to his chest now, only stopping to pinch a small bit of flesh with her sharp teeth before moving on. "If we can't do this again then let me have one last taste. Let me savor your flavor like it's my last day alive. Just this last time... It's okay. Ruin me. Don't hold back."


Kasyr s words feel so very hollow in that long moment after, because every little provocation, every threat teased, every temptation provided makes more of a liar of him. There was something awful about this that he thrilled in, something that had burned between them in almost every exchange they'd made. Even as his fingers move to finally curl into the back of her hair and draw her head back, he can feel a burning in the absence of her touch- coaxing him into pressing her down onto her back. And it -could- be so simple to, to extricate himself from her, and stumble from the bed. But that poison in her voice has already worked itself so deep, and there's a hunger in his gaze, his thoughts twisting more at the sight of her. "You just want one last taste?" It feels so easy to lower himself down to her neck, fangs dropping down to rake against the flesh he'd made raw the evening prior. But pulling back is far more difficult, and where some part of him might have relished the idea- the way the moment draws on is even better. When his hand finally drifts to her leg, it's only so he can run them further up, as he finally sinks into that madness with her.


Quintessa easily submits to Kasyr's whims, her right hand falling weakly next to her head as the swordsman takes control of her. She loves every second of it, especially when he lowers his fangs down to her neck. She trembles and squirms, her face turning away from him to expose the flesh of her neck. "Y-yes," she gasps, her pale fingers desperately grabbing for the sheets as her heat rises. "Do it..." she begs, wanting nothing else in the world but for Kasyr to fill the void in her heart. Quintessa doesn't have to wait long before the kensai has filled that part of her, both of them succumbing to illicit affair between student and master.