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It's Only a Small Request
Mon Oct 23, 2006 14:06 (XFF:

She could deny it not. Really and truly, Evie enjoyed the mysterious ambiance Karen appeared to emulate into the limitlessness of the evening, cascading an inscrutable aura from the philharmonic to the refreshment tables, from the leaf-laden ground to the red-and-amber heavens above. His story was intriguing, and the untold element–the part that the other Soldier decided to forebear from repeating at least until a less festive atmosphere gripped the entirety of the world–only entranced her further.

And so came her unbridled glee when, from nowhere, Karen assumed a stoic and powerful selfness as he tangled his lips within hers. A kiss. Forgetting the evening, Evie openly allowed the man to kiss her. For that tiniest, most pathetic moments, her thoughts were ensnared in saccharine, but she found the narrowness of the kiss a tad disconcerting. Within his mouth, she felt her tongue grazing and grinding against the bone-white tips of his teeth. The enamel was drawing against her tongue ever so slightly, and annoyance stabbed at her as she wished he’d open wider. Oh, she tried to find angles and the like within his pinkish chasm, but it didn’t come easily. Light.

That was until, of course, the man deepened the kiss, clutching her thoroughly and powerfully. And she gripped him back. When the appropriate (and unwelcome) moment came for them to draw back, guided if only by the formalities that always came untold with any kiss, she found herself peering up at him. Bloody Light. She wouldn’t mind him doing that to her again. Not at all. No objection in the least.

“Well, Master Karen,” she said, smirking, “I will not be too coy to say that you do that well.” Maybe it was being stuffed up within this cavernous Tower for the past week-or-so, but Evie truly could not recall a kiss like that. Yes, yes, it probably would be the setting. Nonetheless, the obvious could not be ignored: evening was fast in descending, with darkness peeking up over a sunset-streaked horizon, and she felt impatience welling inside the pith of her being. Huh. “Listen, I’d rather get to this sooner than later. If you don’t mind?” And she smiled coltishly, clasping her hand within his and leading him through the milling maze of mixing couples.

Aes Sedai in ridiculously expensive silken gowns dotted their presence, engaging in sweeping dances with Asha’man, with other Aes Sedai, and with stone-faced men she only supposed had to be their Warders. Evie doubted wholeheartedly that a man of Karen’s stature enjoyed being led about like some helpless puppy, but Evie would not hang back. Oh, no. Regardless, she guided her Domani beau through the merriment, unable to see him but unwilling to make that matter.

And so the two of them escaped the fervid, social tangle, retreating against a table laden with drinks. She truthfully doubted they wanted her of all people drinking, yes, as young as she was–Light, she was only fifteen, and not very far in her progression to her sixteenth year, either–but Evie knew she could hold her alcohol with a reputable stillness. Yes, yes, she wasn’t going to become some sluggish wolf of a woman, stumbling and mumbling and slurring her speech all over the Green. Heavens, no. The thought was laughable! And so she laughed.

“Care for a drink?” she inquired with an impish smile, clasping one pewter tankard of ale and handing it over to him. She accepted one for herself, too; she usually made no habit of drinking from pewter, what with its measure of lead (and the sickness it would inevitably espouse) but it seemed not as though Bel Arvina was a time to raise such pettish concerns as that. Besides, with these drinks sitting out in the open, there could be much, much worse things put in them. She didn’t think about that. “Bottoms up. First one to finish theirs is the victor.”

The ale scratched at her throat, but its taste was familiar. Evie could only suppose it had been brewed in Andor for the distinct savour it shared with the fare served in Paedrig Rill. Oh, Light. This was something else of which Warly was blissfully unaware, and however much she loved her father, she desperately intended to keep it that way. In the end, Karen was the one to win their aggressive little competition. His tankard was emptied just as she was finishing her last few sips and the dregs to follow.

“Nice work,” he said gallantly, though his grin belied nothing. He had won, and he knew it, but the fellow was gracious at that, at least. A gentleman, in spite of his black coat and twin britches.

Tendrils of sensation, or rather a lack thereof, shot through her body as the alcohol began to wage itself on Evie’s body. She wasn’t a very big thing, of course. Oh, well. “We aren’t done yet, Karen. If you’ll follow, it won’t be much longer.”

Fuelled if only by the ale, she guided Karen once more through the evening, but the pair forsook the merriment altogether. It was not far: evening was now even faster in its descent, and darkness was the only outline to their path, but that was acceptable. It truly was. In fact, by darkness, Evie supposed this truly was more appropriate. They found themselves not too far from the Green, from the faculty that so eagerly housed the Bel Arvina gaiety. They found themselves below the Traitor’s Tree. She had been informed of its purpose early in her time at the Tower, and it was as morbid as it was fascinating. Pale, waxen heads dangled stagnantly from the heavy limbs, demanding nothing of the Tower, though the Tower had once demanded something of them. And they had not been able to return this. Hence the Tree’s purpose.

Swarthy shadows drifted aimlessly around them, and she turned to Karen. Hidden by the dulcet bower of the Tree, Evie peered at the dark-skinned man. “I will be candid, Karen. I am young, vulnerable–slightly intoxicated, yes–and quite confident in the fact that you are a very, very pretty boy.” And so she leaned in, once more lacing her lips within Karen’s. And so they kissed, but she would not tarry. Instead, Evie advanced the pace rapidly, sparing no time for the romantic pleasantries that other men strangely seemed to enjoy . . . or seemed to think she enjoyed. Their mothers, in teaching them how to interact with women, had led them astray, or at least with her. Kissing him deeply and quickly, Evie let her hands venture, placing them gingerly on his collar at first, and lowering them, sliding them down his chest.

Whether Evie had tripped him, or whether Karen had tripped her, or whether gravity had simply played its foreseeable role in their little game, the two were soon against the ground, with Evie pressed beneath Karen’s hips. They kissed rawly, thoroughly, and her hands danced around the man’s fastenings. Within no time, she had plucked his coat from him, tossing it idly to the side, not caring where it went. He was bared to the evening, and she ran her cold, cold hands against the darkish tone of his abdomen, exploring this new territory. He was composed of hard, conditioned muscle; he perhaps had not the overbearing brawn as worn by other men of the Black Tower, such as those who named themselves Officers, but he was fit. Light. And so bloody warm.

Reaching with her arms around his back, she felt . . . scars. He was riddled with him. In spite of the dearth of thought that was tied to these sort of actions, she made a dogged mental note to bring this up. When it was convenient, of course. Of course.

Without warning in the least, however, when the pair was in the middle of choking one another if only with their tongues, Evie drew back. Karen peered at her questioningly, but she shifted, eking out from under him narrowly. Her breaths were heavy, and she was thoroughly mirthful, but not done yet. It was clear that Karen was wracked by some level of confusion, for he was naked from the waist up, and that had been by her doing. To bail out from the act so quickly was nonsensical, but she justified it.

Learning over, Evie snatched up the man’s coat, tossing it over to him. She began to adjust her own coat, fixing what fastenings had mysteriously come undone. Did Karen have deft fingers of his own, then? Nonetheless, once the man had dressed himself once more and Evie was finished raking leaves out of her short hair, she addressed him.

“Don’t be misguided, Karen. You are very, very good at that, and . . . for what it is worth, I will say now that I am willing to go further with you. I would love to go as far as one can with you.” And she weighed her blue-eyed gaze upon him, entwining innuendo into her words. “Before, though, I must implore something of you. When I found you earlier standing by the refreshment tables, I had just come from a less-than-amicable engagement. He looked to be a Warder-in-training. Average height and broad around the shoulders, with honey-coloured tresses down to his neck and stubble on his cheeks. Taraboner, by the looks of him. I punched him in the face, however, so he might be in the Infirmary. He did have a friend with him, though. These men . . . I believe they are called Aethan’Tar, yes?”

“They are,” he said tentatively, baiting further words from her.

“Right. I’m not a vain person, Karen, but each individual, man or woman, has their own unique sensitive spot about their appearance. I will say that this Aethan’Tar was . . . cracking wise about mine.” She halted her hands from instinctively brushing against her nose at its implicit mention. “What I say, then, you must hold closely to yourself. If you are opposed to this action, I understand. I do. If, however, you would like to sleep with me tonight, Karen, I would like to ask one small favour of you.” And she stepped closer, their breaths meeting, their lips almost touching once again. Raucous laughter escaped the distant Green, threading the air with distant shouts of glee. But they were apart from them. “I would like you to find this man, Karen, and I would like you to kill him.”

OOC: Tanya, meet Evie. *fiendish grin* And the plot thickens.

  • Questionable ReactionsSoldier Kieran (Karen), Sun Oct 22 17:46
    Kieran couldn't have been more pleased then when Evie accepted his offer to dance. His night already seemed to be brightening as he placed a hand expertly around her waist. Not that he had ever... more
    • It's Only a Small Request — Soldier Evie Holinshed, Mon Oct 23 14:06
      • A Decline and an OfferSoldier Kieran (Karen), Tue Oct 24 08:27
        The pleasure that resulted from Evie's actions in not only accepting his kiss, but giving as good as she got, as it were, could not be described. He was indeed enjoying himself nearly too much at... more
        • Newton's Third LawSoldier Evie Holinshed, Wed Oct 25 13:55
          For every action there is an equal, yet opposite, reaction. A dull, leaden silence gravitated over the pair of them as Karen apparently paused to contemplate what words she had spoken Oh, by no means ... more
          • Not Gonna Get UsSoldier Kieran (Karen), Thu Nov 2 15:07
            As Kieran listened to Evie as she spoke, he couldn't help but feel a bit of an itch when she pulled out the silver. He remembered his thieving days too much for his own good right now. Kieran unbound ... more
            • Cold TeaSoldier Evie Holinshed, Sat Nov 4 15:40
              Hands clapped before her mouth, Evie watched in stunned silence as her beau did little more than hush her, standing wholly still–where they could be seen! Light! Calla and Toliver, accompanied by a... more
              • Contemplations of the Morning AfterSoldier Kieran (Karen), Sat Nov 4 18:53
                It was not exactly easy having to wait there for Evie. He knew that he said that he'd wait for her…but it seemed to be taking longer than it should to just snatch something from the Infirmary, and... more
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