Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27186169-20160117030011

Accepting of sexual content, please PM any message(s) that leads onto said content, thank you.

_______



The nicks on her skin mapped her ways, the smallest of flaws etching in the same colour as grain. There was a distinct pattern, usually, 4 small lines in a row -- and rarely an oval that cut in two length wise. Her favourites took the form of long, thin lines, these scattered few lay on her collarbone and a particularly beloved one on her cheek. The display was unique to each body, though hers seemed few when pitted against the 4 in front of her.



"…An unheard of lack of lust…never thought possible…a state most unbecoming…so unlike a monster, you've become…” the sound continued to drone. Save a few, she had managed a state of second conscious void of the enforcer’s words.



“Salpinx, you are a satyr only by name and not action and hereby exiled from the clan." And they had finally denounced her of her heritage and with it her drinking horn, her goblet, and her other drinking horn.



Being detached from a nation entirely revolving around alcohol, music, and sex gave her a pleasant state of reflection. She thought her incident sleeping with the priest would net her a few days to adjust the accounts payable. It seemed her race had overlooked her work there and she’d savour the day when the outstanding balances caught up to them.



She even doubted they knew where their resources came from – the selective partnerships she had set up; extremely difficult supply partnerships that she had to wrangle with…their bodies…and pocket change as their only commodity.

“They can’t even drive a wagon in their states—” she mumbled, though the way she walked showed how lost she was.  