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The tavern in question was familiar to Rubiah. Though, that could possibly be claimed as truth for just about every dirty bag watering hole in Cairo. And most of their similar kin in Thebes. The back water and dingy hovels (some nicer, some not) in which the basic folk of the nation accumulated were like her income. Every semi-wealthy farmer that came to the bar looking for a little treat in an ale mug was a target for coin. Every politician who wandered the brothels and dives to hear the general hubbub on the streets was a target for fine jewels. And sometimes, if lucky, there was a young noble that was eager to see the more hedonistic, dirty and promiscuous world over which they ruled and would come down to the level of the poorer folk. Those were the best and the easiest. Their lack of understanding of just how dangerous such places could sometimes be meant that their coin purses hung in easy reach. And their general luxurious decoration meant that they hardly noticed when one of their dozens of golden bangles went missing from their wrists.
Whilst Rubiah got most of her money, her means of life and her energies and interests from the upper classes of society, she needed something to get her by. She needed some form of additional income to that which Ressiah offered her on a moronically regular basis to top up her funds and to keep her adventures going when out of town. She had no real need for the money whilst under her sister's roof, but she liked to see the little pieces of coins and her chest of goodies grow. There was something about the glint of gold that sparked a possessive feeling in her that she neither cared to nor wanted to deny.
And so, here she was, scowering the taverns as such would normally do, careful to request a drink from only those who looked like they could afford it without emptying their purses and laughing and joking with the unfunny men with the muscles that she might like to taste later in the night. It was her way and her life and she was used to it. And very very good at it.
In this particular tavern, however, Rubiah was distracted from her normal targets of money-means but a laugh that sparked recognition in the back of her head. A fluid and wavy sense of familiarity. To be good at what she did, Rubiah had to be good with names, faces and with voices. And this one she knew pretty well.
Looking around, she spotted the owner of such a large and her tongue dipped in front of her bottom teeth, pushing out her lip in an expression of curiosity. She moved through the crowd, her diminutive height ensuring that she was hidden from view from the woman right up until the moment where she reached the bar. It was against this hunk of wood that Mafdet leaned, speaking with a man beside her of apparently wealthy means and trying to convince him - as she usually did - that she worked in the palace of the Queen and could easily get him in to see the young beauty if he made it worth her while...
Rubiah leaned around the girl, so that she was noticeable but her voice came before her physical appearance.
"You still pimping that shit?" She asked with a sardonic tone of warm humour. She knew that she was probably canning Mafdet's con in a single sentence, spotting the look of confusion and then suspicion on the face of the man she was trying to convince. But she was equally confident that the two of them could find more quarry later into the night.
Their relationship was based on the ambitions of rivalry and the respect of each other’s skills over the weak minded. The both of them took to conning others to get what they wanted and the only reason they permitted one another to do was they wished was because they knew they would screw each other over if needs be. The two of them were each too cunning to not be a dangerous enemy to the other and each too smart to allow that to happen. They would tease and impede and cause issues... like children did over those they liked. But they never messed with each other on a serious level.
And to that, they each referred to as friendship.
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The tavern in question was familiar to Rubiah. Though, that could possibly be claimed as truth for just about every dirty bag watering hole in Cairo. And most of their similar kin in Thebes. The back water and dingy hovels (some nicer, some not) in which the basic folk of the nation accumulated were like her income. Every semi-wealthy farmer that came to the bar looking for a little treat in an ale mug was a target for coin. Every politician who wandered the brothels and dives to hear the general hubbub on the streets was a target for fine jewels. And sometimes, if lucky, there was a young noble that was eager to see the more hedonistic, dirty and promiscuous world over which they ruled and would come down to the level of the poorer folk. Those were the best and the easiest. Their lack of understanding of just how dangerous such places could sometimes be meant that their coin purses hung in easy reach. And their general luxurious decoration meant that they hardly noticed when one of their dozens of golden bangles went missing from their wrists.
Whilst Rubiah got most of her money, her means of life and her energies and interests from the upper classes of society, she needed something to get her by. She needed some form of additional income to that which Ressiah offered her on a moronically regular basis to top up her funds and to keep her adventures going when out of town. She had no real need for the money whilst under her sister's roof, but she liked to see the little pieces of coins and her chest of goodies grow. There was something about the glint of gold that sparked a possessive feeling in her that she neither cared to nor wanted to deny.
And so, here she was, scowering the taverns as such would normally do, careful to request a drink from only those who looked like they could afford it without emptying their purses and laughing and joking with the unfunny men with the muscles that she might like to taste later in the night. It was her way and her life and she was used to it. And very very good at it.
In this particular tavern, however, Rubiah was distracted from her normal targets of money-means but a laugh that sparked recognition in the back of her head. A fluid and wavy sense of familiarity. To be good at what she did, Rubiah had to be good with names, faces and with voices. And this one she knew pretty well.
Looking around, she spotted the owner of such a large and her tongue dipped in front of her bottom teeth, pushing out her lip in an expression of curiosity. She moved through the crowd, her diminutive height ensuring that she was hidden from view from the woman right up until the moment where she reached the bar. It was against this hunk of wood that Mafdet leaned, speaking with a man beside her of apparently wealthy means and trying to convince him - as she usually did - that she worked in the palace of the Queen and could easily get him in to see the young beauty if he made it worth her while...
Rubiah leaned around the girl, so that she was noticeable but her voice came before her physical appearance.
"You still pimping that shit?" She asked with a sardonic tone of warm humour. She knew that she was probably canning Mafdet's con in a single sentence, spotting the look of confusion and then suspicion on the face of the man she was trying to convince. But she was equally confident that the two of them could find more quarry later into the night.
Their relationship was based on the ambitions of rivalry and the respect of each other’s skills over the weak minded. The both of them took to conning others to get what they wanted and the only reason they permitted one another to do was they wished was because they knew they would screw each other over if needs be. The two of them were each too cunning to not be a dangerous enemy to the other and each too smart to allow that to happen. They would tease and impede and cause issues... like children did over those they liked. But they never messed with each other on a serious level.
And to that, they each referred to as friendship.
The tavern in question was familiar to Rubiah. Though, that could possibly be claimed as truth for just about every dirty bag watering hole in Cairo. And most of their similar kin in Thebes. The back water and dingy hovels (some nicer, some not) in which the basic folk of the nation accumulated were like her income. Every semi-wealthy farmer that came to the bar looking for a little treat in an ale mug was a target for coin. Every politician who wandered the brothels and dives to hear the general hubbub on the streets was a target for fine jewels. And sometimes, if lucky, there was a young noble that was eager to see the more hedonistic, dirty and promiscuous world over which they ruled and would come down to the level of the poorer folk. Those were the best and the easiest. Their lack of understanding of just how dangerous such places could sometimes be meant that their coin purses hung in easy reach. And their general luxurious decoration meant that they hardly noticed when one of their dozens of golden bangles went missing from their wrists.
Whilst Rubiah got most of her money, her means of life and her energies and interests from the upper classes of society, she needed something to get her by. She needed some form of additional income to that which Ressiah offered her on a moronically regular basis to top up her funds and to keep her adventures going when out of town. She had no real need for the money whilst under her sister's roof, but she liked to see the little pieces of coins and her chest of goodies grow. There was something about the glint of gold that sparked a possessive feeling in her that she neither cared to nor wanted to deny.
And so, here she was, scowering the taverns as such would normally do, careful to request a drink from only those who looked like they could afford it without emptying their purses and laughing and joking with the unfunny men with the muscles that she might like to taste later in the night. It was her way and her life and she was used to it. And very very good at it.
In this particular tavern, however, Rubiah was distracted from her normal targets of money-means but a laugh that sparked recognition in the back of her head. A fluid and wavy sense of familiarity. To be good at what she did, Rubiah had to be good with names, faces and with voices. And this one she knew pretty well.
Looking around, she spotted the owner of such a large and her tongue dipped in front of her bottom teeth, pushing out her lip in an expression of curiosity. She moved through the crowd, her diminutive height ensuring that she was hidden from view from the woman right up until the moment where she reached the bar. It was against this hunk of wood that Mafdet leaned, speaking with a man beside her of apparently wealthy means and trying to convince him - as she usually did - that she worked in the palace of the Queen and could easily get him in to see the young beauty if he made it worth her while...
Rubiah leaned around the girl, so that she was noticeable but her voice came before her physical appearance.
"You still pimping that shit?" She asked with a sardonic tone of warm humour. She knew that she was probably canning Mafdet's con in a single sentence, spotting the look of confusion and then suspicion on the face of the man she was trying to convince. But she was equally confident that the two of them could find more quarry later into the night.
Their relationship was based on the ambitions of rivalry and the respect of each other’s skills over the weak minded. The both of them took to conning others to get what they wanted and the only reason they permitted one another to do was they wished was because they knew they would screw each other over if needs be. The two of them were each too cunning to not be a dangerous enemy to the other and each too smart to allow that to happen. They would tease and impede and cause issues... like children did over those they liked. But they never messed with each other on a serious level.
And to that, they each referred to as friendship.
Mafdet has been working her set all day, which meant winning the pockets of drunk men in taverns and petty theft was the most basic way to make money. If anything, theft was a means of survival that turned into a game, she later played to make time go by. Mafdet played with one man at a time, but she would always mentally note who her targets were before she engaged them. Sometimes, Mafdet would work with others to play with her, but she found it best to play her games alone to maximize the funds. Although, sometimes it was enjoyable to have competition, no matter how small, and there were only a few Mafdet would consider friends. Such a term was different by the relationship for Mafdet, some are more bitter than other but Mafdet was an adaptable personality – made sense.
Taverns and brothels have been a lifestyle Mafdet was accustomed to and men are the easiest target for such an attractive person. This one man was drunk off wine, which made an appropriate opportunity as she waited for him to notice her lonesome leaning against a wall. Mafdet had quite a few drinks, but to do what she desired it required awareness.
Mafdet stood alluringly, adorned by a lapis lazuli jeweled usekh that sat across her chest and her body was draped in a white kalasaris. Her feminine face was made up of black kohl that lined her eyelids, and green malachite shadowed her eyes that enhanced her desirable hazel eyes. Suggestively, Mafdet winked at the man once their eyes met, which queued him to approach her space. The man closeness the distance between himself and Mafdet, bare-chested he placed a hand against the wall she leaned on. Mafdet eyed him with a small smile accompanied by the desire in her eyes – although to interrupt his suggestion, Mafdet placed a finger on his lips as she spoke softly to him, “I think you should finish this for me, I think you’d enjoy it.” Mafdet eyed him with an alluringly and smiled once the man took away his hand to grasp her cup to then drink the concoction. The man spoke slurred like after consuming the drink, “Are you … free?”
Mafdet placed a hand on his chest, “Like a bird.” She continued, “Although, I do work at the Palace of the Queen, and I’m preparing to leave soon… if you could walk me there…”. Immediately, Mafdet lowered her eyes at the sound of a familiar voice behind her; thus, another smile etched her lips, before she turned her attention back toward her drunken target, “Go wait over there,” Mafdet pointed, “ Please, for me… I need to stay a little longer.” The man responded irritably before he responded, “Fine.”
As the man acknowledged her request, Mafdet turned toward Rubiah with her arms crossed as she responded to Rubiah’s comment, “Why fix what’s not broken? Isn’t that why you still hide in plain sight?” A story she mostly remembered, Rubiah and Mafdet’s relationship was volatile in nature, but that is what made Rubiah’s company exciting for Mafdet. The taller woman stepped forward with opening arms, “Rubiah, I’ve missed your company,” Mafdet said as she pulled away, “Care for a game?”
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Mafdet has been working her set all day, which meant winning the pockets of drunk men in taverns and petty theft was the most basic way to make money. If anything, theft was a means of survival that turned into a game, she later played to make time go by. Mafdet played with one man at a time, but she would always mentally note who her targets were before she engaged them. Sometimes, Mafdet would work with others to play with her, but she found it best to play her games alone to maximize the funds. Although, sometimes it was enjoyable to have competition, no matter how small, and there were only a few Mafdet would consider friends. Such a term was different by the relationship for Mafdet, some are more bitter than other but Mafdet was an adaptable personality – made sense.
Taverns and brothels have been a lifestyle Mafdet was accustomed to and men are the easiest target for such an attractive person. This one man was drunk off wine, which made an appropriate opportunity as she waited for him to notice her lonesome leaning against a wall. Mafdet had quite a few drinks, but to do what she desired it required awareness.
Mafdet stood alluringly, adorned by a lapis lazuli jeweled usekh that sat across her chest and her body was draped in a white kalasaris. Her feminine face was made up of black kohl that lined her eyelids, and green malachite shadowed her eyes that enhanced her desirable hazel eyes. Suggestively, Mafdet winked at the man once their eyes met, which queued him to approach her space. The man closeness the distance between himself and Mafdet, bare-chested he placed a hand against the wall she leaned on. Mafdet eyed him with a small smile accompanied by the desire in her eyes – although to interrupt his suggestion, Mafdet placed a finger on his lips as she spoke softly to him, “I think you should finish this for me, I think you’d enjoy it.” Mafdet eyed him with an alluringly and smiled once the man took away his hand to grasp her cup to then drink the concoction. The man spoke slurred like after consuming the drink, “Are you … free?”
Mafdet placed a hand on his chest, “Like a bird.” She continued, “Although, I do work at the Palace of the Queen, and I’m preparing to leave soon… if you could walk me there…”. Immediately, Mafdet lowered her eyes at the sound of a familiar voice behind her; thus, another smile etched her lips, before she turned her attention back toward her drunken target, “Go wait over there,” Mafdet pointed, “ Please, for me… I need to stay a little longer.” The man responded irritably before he responded, “Fine.”
As the man acknowledged her request, Mafdet turned toward Rubiah with her arms crossed as she responded to Rubiah’s comment, “Why fix what’s not broken? Isn’t that why you still hide in plain sight?” A story she mostly remembered, Rubiah and Mafdet’s relationship was volatile in nature, but that is what made Rubiah’s company exciting for Mafdet. The taller woman stepped forward with opening arms, “Rubiah, I’ve missed your company,” Mafdet said as she pulled away, “Care for a game?”
Mafdet has been working her set all day, which meant winning the pockets of drunk men in taverns and petty theft was the most basic way to make money. If anything, theft was a means of survival that turned into a game, she later played to make time go by. Mafdet played with one man at a time, but she would always mentally note who her targets were before she engaged them. Sometimes, Mafdet would work with others to play with her, but she found it best to play her games alone to maximize the funds. Although, sometimes it was enjoyable to have competition, no matter how small, and there were only a few Mafdet would consider friends. Such a term was different by the relationship for Mafdet, some are more bitter than other but Mafdet was an adaptable personality – made sense.
Taverns and brothels have been a lifestyle Mafdet was accustomed to and men are the easiest target for such an attractive person. This one man was drunk off wine, which made an appropriate opportunity as she waited for him to notice her lonesome leaning against a wall. Mafdet had quite a few drinks, but to do what she desired it required awareness.
Mafdet stood alluringly, adorned by a lapis lazuli jeweled usekh that sat across her chest and her body was draped in a white kalasaris. Her feminine face was made up of black kohl that lined her eyelids, and green malachite shadowed her eyes that enhanced her desirable hazel eyes. Suggestively, Mafdet winked at the man once their eyes met, which queued him to approach her space. The man closeness the distance between himself and Mafdet, bare-chested he placed a hand against the wall she leaned on. Mafdet eyed him with a small smile accompanied by the desire in her eyes – although to interrupt his suggestion, Mafdet placed a finger on his lips as she spoke softly to him, “I think you should finish this for me, I think you’d enjoy it.” Mafdet eyed him with an alluringly and smiled once the man took away his hand to grasp her cup to then drink the concoction. The man spoke slurred like after consuming the drink, “Are you … free?”
Mafdet placed a hand on his chest, “Like a bird.” She continued, “Although, I do work at the Palace of the Queen, and I’m preparing to leave soon… if you could walk me there…”. Immediately, Mafdet lowered her eyes at the sound of a familiar voice behind her; thus, another smile etched her lips, before she turned her attention back toward her drunken target, “Go wait over there,” Mafdet pointed, “ Please, for me… I need to stay a little longer.” The man responded irritably before he responded, “Fine.”
As the man acknowledged her request, Mafdet turned toward Rubiah with her arms crossed as she responded to Rubiah’s comment, “Why fix what’s not broken? Isn’t that why you still hide in plain sight?” A story she mostly remembered, Rubiah and Mafdet’s relationship was volatile in nature, but that is what made Rubiah’s company exciting for Mafdet. The taller woman stepped forward with opening arms, “Rubiah, I’ve missed your company,” Mafdet said as she pulled away, “Care for a game?”
Rubiah's smile was bright but it didn't reach her eyes. Instead, her dark orbs flashed with the knowledge of wicked truth. She did not like Mafdet - for she liked very few people - but she did find the woman stimulating. She was of basic interest at least. And there were so few truly interesting people in the world. As such, she was as close to a friend as Rubiah could probably get. And, by that, she meant that she did not mind associating with her more than once in quick succession and for longer than perhaps ten minutes.
As the beauty managed to rearrange her target to wait for her across the room and turned to welcome her back to the city, Rubiah's teeth flashed and her accepted the open hug. Their chests barely touched but their arms came around in a full embrace all the same. As if neither liked the notion of hugging but were willing to step into uncomfortable territory in order to show their apparent affection for one another.
As she assured her that it had been long enough for her to miss Rubiah's company, the other didn't return the sentiment in the same way but offered her own compliments of sorts.
"But of course." She stated simply, suggesting that she was by far amazing enough to be missed. "Your company has been absent from my world for too long, Mafdet."
At the mention of a game, however, their playful word games and friendly antagonism was put to the side and Rubiah's jaw turned in consideration. Her braids clinked a little as she twisted her head and the pieces of silver knocked together.
"By all means." She suggested, her eyes flashing. She waved a hand to the bartender and was given a wooden mug of ale that she tasted and then wrinkled her nose over, Dear Gods but this place really was a dive. She flicked the man a hard stare and a rude hand gesture when he hovered for payment over the drink but he seemed new to the role and a nervous man of sorts, not willing to argue. She turned back to Mafdet. "What exactly did you have in mind, old friend?" She offered, her tone catty and eager and her tongue drawn to run over her teeth as she accepted another sip of the mediocre drink.
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Rubiah's smile was bright but it didn't reach her eyes. Instead, her dark orbs flashed with the knowledge of wicked truth. She did not like Mafdet - for she liked very few people - but she did find the woman stimulating. She was of basic interest at least. And there were so few truly interesting people in the world. As such, she was as close to a friend as Rubiah could probably get. And, by that, she meant that she did not mind associating with her more than once in quick succession and for longer than perhaps ten minutes.
As the beauty managed to rearrange her target to wait for her across the room and turned to welcome her back to the city, Rubiah's teeth flashed and her accepted the open hug. Their chests barely touched but their arms came around in a full embrace all the same. As if neither liked the notion of hugging but were willing to step into uncomfortable territory in order to show their apparent affection for one another.
As she assured her that it had been long enough for her to miss Rubiah's company, the other didn't return the sentiment in the same way but offered her own compliments of sorts.
"But of course." She stated simply, suggesting that she was by far amazing enough to be missed. "Your company has been absent from my world for too long, Mafdet."
At the mention of a game, however, their playful word games and friendly antagonism was put to the side and Rubiah's jaw turned in consideration. Her braids clinked a little as she twisted her head and the pieces of silver knocked together.
"By all means." She suggested, her eyes flashing. She waved a hand to the bartender and was given a wooden mug of ale that she tasted and then wrinkled her nose over, Dear Gods but this place really was a dive. She flicked the man a hard stare and a rude hand gesture when he hovered for payment over the drink but he seemed new to the role and a nervous man of sorts, not willing to argue. She turned back to Mafdet. "What exactly did you have in mind, old friend?" She offered, her tone catty and eager and her tongue drawn to run over her teeth as she accepted another sip of the mediocre drink.
Rubiah's smile was bright but it didn't reach her eyes. Instead, her dark orbs flashed with the knowledge of wicked truth. She did not like Mafdet - for she liked very few people - but she did find the woman stimulating. She was of basic interest at least. And there were so few truly interesting people in the world. As such, she was as close to a friend as Rubiah could probably get. And, by that, she meant that she did not mind associating with her more than once in quick succession and for longer than perhaps ten minutes.
As the beauty managed to rearrange her target to wait for her across the room and turned to welcome her back to the city, Rubiah's teeth flashed and her accepted the open hug. Their chests barely touched but their arms came around in a full embrace all the same. As if neither liked the notion of hugging but were willing to step into uncomfortable territory in order to show their apparent affection for one another.
As she assured her that it had been long enough for her to miss Rubiah's company, the other didn't return the sentiment in the same way but offered her own compliments of sorts.
"But of course." She stated simply, suggesting that she was by far amazing enough to be missed. "Your company has been absent from my world for too long, Mafdet."
At the mention of a game, however, their playful word games and friendly antagonism was put to the side and Rubiah's jaw turned in consideration. Her braids clinked a little as she twisted her head and the pieces of silver knocked together.
"By all means." She suggested, her eyes flashing. She waved a hand to the bartender and was given a wooden mug of ale that she tasted and then wrinkled her nose over, Dear Gods but this place really was a dive. She flicked the man a hard stare and a rude hand gesture when he hovered for payment over the drink but he seemed new to the role and a nervous man of sorts, not willing to argue. She turned back to Mafdet. "What exactly did you have in mind, old friend?" She offered, her tone catty and eager and her tongue drawn to run over her teeth as she accepted another sip of the mediocre drink.
“I am glad you asked,” Mafdet said with a devilish smirk, before she turned towards the bar keep and beckoned him over with the raise of hand, “We want beer and pomegranate juice, and keep them coming – my friend over there is going to pay for it.” She stated promptly, before she turned back to Rubiah, “Ever heard of the Scarlet Lady?” A game that is not played by the weak, the Scarlet Lady is an old game that pays homage to the bloodthirsty goddess of war, Sekhmet. Most Egyptians know of the story of Sekhmet who turned crazed at the taste of human blood, and to stop her Ra tricked her with beer and pomegranate juice – once she finished gorging what thought was blood, Sekhmet was put to rest in a drunken and sated state. Most people who can afford to play the game will traditionally use beer and pomegranate juice, but for the lower incomed individuals any drink would suffice as the entire point was to drink until you drop – drunken and sated.
The barkeep came over with two clay drinking cups filled with beer and pomegranate juice, Mafdet then took the cups from the keep and gave one to Rubiah as she spoke, “Well, the game is simple, you drink until you can’t no more, but the loser has to finish two additional cups of beer and pomegranate juice, you think you could handle that?” She questioned Rubiah with a daring smile, because she knew the other woman was not going to turn down fun. One drunken moment will lead to another, and hopefully Mafdet would not have to walk home alone tonight. “May the goddess, Sekhmet, watch over our skins as we join her in a drunken state.” Mafdet stated before she raised her clay spun cup to meet Rubiah’s , “Once our cups touch, the game will begin and you cannot stop until your body does.”
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“I am glad you asked,” Mafdet said with a devilish smirk, before she turned towards the bar keep and beckoned him over with the raise of hand, “We want beer and pomegranate juice, and keep them coming – my friend over there is going to pay for it.” She stated promptly, before she turned back to Rubiah, “Ever heard of the Scarlet Lady?” A game that is not played by the weak, the Scarlet Lady is an old game that pays homage to the bloodthirsty goddess of war, Sekhmet. Most Egyptians know of the story of Sekhmet who turned crazed at the taste of human blood, and to stop her Ra tricked her with beer and pomegranate juice – once she finished gorging what thought was blood, Sekhmet was put to rest in a drunken and sated state. Most people who can afford to play the game will traditionally use beer and pomegranate juice, but for the lower incomed individuals any drink would suffice as the entire point was to drink until you drop – drunken and sated.
The barkeep came over with two clay drinking cups filled with beer and pomegranate juice, Mafdet then took the cups from the keep and gave one to Rubiah as she spoke, “Well, the game is simple, you drink until you can’t no more, but the loser has to finish two additional cups of beer and pomegranate juice, you think you could handle that?” She questioned Rubiah with a daring smile, because she knew the other woman was not going to turn down fun. One drunken moment will lead to another, and hopefully Mafdet would not have to walk home alone tonight. “May the goddess, Sekhmet, watch over our skins as we join her in a drunken state.” Mafdet stated before she raised her clay spun cup to meet Rubiah’s , “Once our cups touch, the game will begin and you cannot stop until your body does.”
“I am glad you asked,” Mafdet said with a devilish smirk, before she turned towards the bar keep and beckoned him over with the raise of hand, “We want beer and pomegranate juice, and keep them coming – my friend over there is going to pay for it.” She stated promptly, before she turned back to Rubiah, “Ever heard of the Scarlet Lady?” A game that is not played by the weak, the Scarlet Lady is an old game that pays homage to the bloodthirsty goddess of war, Sekhmet. Most Egyptians know of the story of Sekhmet who turned crazed at the taste of human blood, and to stop her Ra tricked her with beer and pomegranate juice – once she finished gorging what thought was blood, Sekhmet was put to rest in a drunken and sated state. Most people who can afford to play the game will traditionally use beer and pomegranate juice, but for the lower incomed individuals any drink would suffice as the entire point was to drink until you drop – drunken and sated.
The barkeep came over with two clay drinking cups filled with beer and pomegranate juice, Mafdet then took the cups from the keep and gave one to Rubiah as she spoke, “Well, the game is simple, you drink until you can’t no more, but the loser has to finish two additional cups of beer and pomegranate juice, you think you could handle that?” She questioned Rubiah with a daring smile, because she knew the other woman was not going to turn down fun. One drunken moment will lead to another, and hopefully Mafdet would not have to walk home alone tonight. “May the goddess, Sekhmet, watch over our skins as we join her in a drunken state.” Mafdet stated before she raised her clay spun cup to meet Rubiah’s , “Once our cups touch, the game will begin and you cannot stop until your body does.”
Rubiah knew exactly the same that Mafdet had in mind, as soon as the woman ordered the beer and pomegranate juice. It was a drink that Rubiah knew the story behind, having a preference for the Goddess Sekhmet. For herself, she was closer to atheist than most anything else, but she was also a street rat that knew to protect her ass from any and all potential threats. Which meant that keeping up with the religions of Egypt and ensuring that she followed all tribulations and kept her sacrilegious thoughts to herself was important.
And in all her study of the Egyptian divine beings - the Kemetic pantheon - she had liked the concept of Sekhmet. A female Goddess of War and Violence that could launch a bloodthirsty riot upon the world should she ever take the moment to wish to. If she existed of course. Rubiah had loved the imagery of such a thing; of this proud and powerful woman who didn't have to be royal or noble or born to the right family to take all that she wanted. She just had to be a badass.
So, when Mafdet ordered the drinks, Rubiah was happy to play, so long as she wasn't paying for them. She noted the glance of the man that Mafdet had identified as her bill-payer and he had his goggle eyes trained upon her. He looked like he was paying attention but Rubiah half expected that he was unconscious with his eyes open. He was holding onto the bar as if it might be the only thing keeping him upright in stormy weather. Not exactly the most encouraging.
Either way, the two of them only needed the guy to stay upright until the end of the game when the tab would be called in due. And Rubiah was a good drinker. It was one of her few skills, despite her size. And she intended to win speedily.
Whilst Rubiah was a short person and thin in frame, it should have been that a single glass of wine knocked her flat. But when you grew up travelling from brothel to tavern and could afford beer easier than you could water or fruit juice, or even goat's milk... you developed a strength against the intoxicating effects of just about all forms of alcohol. Rubiah had never met anyone that she couldn't drink under the table. Man or woman. Friend or foe.
"You're on." She agreed to the game, waiting for the barkeep to offer up the little clay cups that would be filled with the beer and juice. Rubiah was quick to take up the first one and clink the rim with Mafdet's. Almost immediately she drew the small drink to her lips and swallowed it whole without issue...
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Rubiah knew exactly the same that Mafdet had in mind, as soon as the woman ordered the beer and pomegranate juice. It was a drink that Rubiah knew the story behind, having a preference for the Goddess Sekhmet. For herself, she was closer to atheist than most anything else, but she was also a street rat that knew to protect her ass from any and all potential threats. Which meant that keeping up with the religions of Egypt and ensuring that she followed all tribulations and kept her sacrilegious thoughts to herself was important.
And in all her study of the Egyptian divine beings - the Kemetic pantheon - she had liked the concept of Sekhmet. A female Goddess of War and Violence that could launch a bloodthirsty riot upon the world should she ever take the moment to wish to. If she existed of course. Rubiah had loved the imagery of such a thing; of this proud and powerful woman who didn't have to be royal or noble or born to the right family to take all that she wanted. She just had to be a badass.
So, when Mafdet ordered the drinks, Rubiah was happy to play, so long as she wasn't paying for them. She noted the glance of the man that Mafdet had identified as her bill-payer and he had his goggle eyes trained upon her. He looked like he was paying attention but Rubiah half expected that he was unconscious with his eyes open. He was holding onto the bar as if it might be the only thing keeping him upright in stormy weather. Not exactly the most encouraging.
Either way, the two of them only needed the guy to stay upright until the end of the game when the tab would be called in due. And Rubiah was a good drinker. It was one of her few skills, despite her size. And she intended to win speedily.
Whilst Rubiah was a short person and thin in frame, it should have been that a single glass of wine knocked her flat. But when you grew up travelling from brothel to tavern and could afford beer easier than you could water or fruit juice, or even goat's milk... you developed a strength against the intoxicating effects of just about all forms of alcohol. Rubiah had never met anyone that she couldn't drink under the table. Man or woman. Friend or foe.
"You're on." She agreed to the game, waiting for the barkeep to offer up the little clay cups that would be filled with the beer and juice. Rubiah was quick to take up the first one and clink the rim with Mafdet's. Almost immediately she drew the small drink to her lips and swallowed it whole without issue...
Rubiah knew exactly the same that Mafdet had in mind, as soon as the woman ordered the beer and pomegranate juice. It was a drink that Rubiah knew the story behind, having a preference for the Goddess Sekhmet. For herself, she was closer to atheist than most anything else, but she was also a street rat that knew to protect her ass from any and all potential threats. Which meant that keeping up with the religions of Egypt and ensuring that she followed all tribulations and kept her sacrilegious thoughts to herself was important.
And in all her study of the Egyptian divine beings - the Kemetic pantheon - she had liked the concept of Sekhmet. A female Goddess of War and Violence that could launch a bloodthirsty riot upon the world should she ever take the moment to wish to. If she existed of course. Rubiah had loved the imagery of such a thing; of this proud and powerful woman who didn't have to be royal or noble or born to the right family to take all that she wanted. She just had to be a badass.
So, when Mafdet ordered the drinks, Rubiah was happy to play, so long as she wasn't paying for them. She noted the glance of the man that Mafdet had identified as her bill-payer and he had his goggle eyes trained upon her. He looked like he was paying attention but Rubiah half expected that he was unconscious with his eyes open. He was holding onto the bar as if it might be the only thing keeping him upright in stormy weather. Not exactly the most encouraging.
Either way, the two of them only needed the guy to stay upright until the end of the game when the tab would be called in due. And Rubiah was a good drinker. It was one of her few skills, despite her size. And she intended to win speedily.
Whilst Rubiah was a short person and thin in frame, it should have been that a single glass of wine knocked her flat. But when you grew up travelling from brothel to tavern and could afford beer easier than you could water or fruit juice, or even goat's milk... you developed a strength against the intoxicating effects of just about all forms of alcohol. Rubiah had never met anyone that she couldn't drink under the table. Man or woman. Friend or foe.
"You're on." She agreed to the game, waiting for the barkeep to offer up the little clay cups that would be filled with the beer and juice. Rubiah was quick to take up the first one and clink the rim with Mafdet's. Almost immediately she drew the small drink to her lips and swallowed it whole without issue...
Mafdet threw back the beer and pomegranate juice with ease and slammed the clay cup back on the counter. A smile was plastered on her face as she looked back a Rubiah who already finished her share, “I missed our fun, I need a little competition now and days.” The Lady snorted as she watched the barkeep refill her cup, and as soon as it was filled, she threw it back once again. Mafdet has been drinking since she was a little girl, growing up in Mansa, the only form of drink anyone could find was beer, and just because it was a necessity, water would be near by. The point was, Mafdet was a efficient drinker and it was going to take a lot more than three cups to get her drunk, but the point of this game was to push your limits. Mafdet has come to find out that not many women have the liver to spare, but that was exactly why Rubiah was a favorite to drink with.
Mafdet grew up on the streets and later Pleasure Houses became her reality, so it was only customary to have a drink in hand or commit to drunken sex. Mafdet could not play the Scarlet Lady with just anybody, because it was not meant for the weak – men often played the game with their friends, but Mafdet never liked how women were rarely included in the fun. How Mafdet saw it, women were just as capable as men, if not better.
To keep the air fresh between them, Mafdet spoke up after she swallowed her next round, “So tell me Rubiah, what has life surprised you with as of late? I am sure you have lived quite the life.” Conversation generally accompanied drinking games, and Mafdet often kept conversation light – most people are not as open with their lives, but of course…. alcohol would loosen the tongue.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Mafdet threw back the beer and pomegranate juice with ease and slammed the clay cup back on the counter. A smile was plastered on her face as she looked back a Rubiah who already finished her share, “I missed our fun, I need a little competition now and days.” The Lady snorted as she watched the barkeep refill her cup, and as soon as it was filled, she threw it back once again. Mafdet has been drinking since she was a little girl, growing up in Mansa, the only form of drink anyone could find was beer, and just because it was a necessity, water would be near by. The point was, Mafdet was a efficient drinker and it was going to take a lot more than three cups to get her drunk, but the point of this game was to push your limits. Mafdet has come to find out that not many women have the liver to spare, but that was exactly why Rubiah was a favorite to drink with.
Mafdet grew up on the streets and later Pleasure Houses became her reality, so it was only customary to have a drink in hand or commit to drunken sex. Mafdet could not play the Scarlet Lady with just anybody, because it was not meant for the weak – men often played the game with their friends, but Mafdet never liked how women were rarely included in the fun. How Mafdet saw it, women were just as capable as men, if not better.
To keep the air fresh between them, Mafdet spoke up after she swallowed her next round, “So tell me Rubiah, what has life surprised you with as of late? I am sure you have lived quite the life.” Conversation generally accompanied drinking games, and Mafdet often kept conversation light – most people are not as open with their lives, but of course…. alcohol would loosen the tongue.
Mafdet threw back the beer and pomegranate juice with ease and slammed the clay cup back on the counter. A smile was plastered on her face as she looked back a Rubiah who already finished her share, “I missed our fun, I need a little competition now and days.” The Lady snorted as she watched the barkeep refill her cup, and as soon as it was filled, she threw it back once again. Mafdet has been drinking since she was a little girl, growing up in Mansa, the only form of drink anyone could find was beer, and just because it was a necessity, water would be near by. The point was, Mafdet was a efficient drinker and it was going to take a lot more than three cups to get her drunk, but the point of this game was to push your limits. Mafdet has come to find out that not many women have the liver to spare, but that was exactly why Rubiah was a favorite to drink with.
Mafdet grew up on the streets and later Pleasure Houses became her reality, so it was only customary to have a drink in hand or commit to drunken sex. Mafdet could not play the Scarlet Lady with just anybody, because it was not meant for the weak – men often played the game with their friends, but Mafdet never liked how women were rarely included in the fun. How Mafdet saw it, women were just as capable as men, if not better.
To keep the air fresh between them, Mafdet spoke up after she swallowed her next round, “So tell me Rubiah, what has life surprised you with as of late? I am sure you have lived quite the life.” Conversation generally accompanied drinking games, and Mafdet often kept conversation light – most people are not as open with their lives, but of course…. alcohol would loosen the tongue.