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The pace of Ana's breath helped still her racing heart, tempering that ill-borne excitement with the necessity of patience. The thief was excited to break into a home again, but this time it wasn't to take something. Rather, she felt taken. As her perceptions and world seemed to crumble, a shining utopia at last showing the cracks in its facade... this at the very least felt... right. A liar and a thief she was, it was only right that her secrets made her feel safe.
Breathe.
She let her concerns fall by the wayside as he crouched behind a pillar near the entrance to the saraaya's gardens. It was always difficult for her to remember exactly where Chione's room was, and sneaking around for too long would draw an excess of attention. Rather than spend an eternity deliberating, she simply... took her best guess. Silent footfalls and carefully measured tumbles took her through the garden, stooping to obscure herself with stems and leaves before advancing. The guard seemed more lax than it should... perhaps there was something going on?
She didn't take the time to find out. Carefully, she wedged open a door, sliding her body through it in an effort to keep her entrance discrete. She'd heard from Chione that her father would be absent. That just left the two sisters, neither of whom, she hoped, would be wandering the grounds at this hour. Now... she was even more lost than ever. If the gardens hadn't served to disorient her, the splendor on the inside certainly did.
This is not what I'm here for...
She had to whisper it, fighting an instinct that she hadn't flourished in the months since she'd first encountered Akhenaten. With her lust for the finery so thoroughly satisfied, it was only when it was thrust in front of her face that she battled the spirit that time sought to tame.
Breathe...
A quiet gust of air flowed from her nostrils as her eyes fell shut. The sounds of footsteps were all but absent. She wondered where this infamous Berenike, keeper of the house, was. Perhaps when she got closer to people she'd find greater resistance? She tempered her footfalls once again, her feet gliding against smooth limestone up until the darkness that restrained her gaze was broken. Torchlight shimmered, bleeding through a hallway, leaving the Fallen Star to slide between the first door she saw.
Here, she saw... a vague familiarity. The room was massive, sprawled with furniture and decorations. But the candles were extinguished and a single figure lay in a large bed. Not everything was as she remembered, but... the Fallen Star seldom took stock in her memory. Between drinking and being driven to distraction there really was no trusting the clarity of her memory. Bemused that her lover would pretend to be sleeping while waiting for her but also rather amused at the prospect, Ana drew closer to the bed, her footsteps muffled by experience. Chione was facing away from her, and Ana hatched an idea.
Play coy with me, will you...
She almost laughed aloud at it. The Greek pulled the dark attire from her shoulders, letting it sink to the ground. Bared to the elements, she slid into the bed behind her lover, pressing her chest into the woman's back as she breathed sweet nothings into her ear. A hand wove between her ribs and elbow, claiming her breast with an indelicate motion.
"Rise and shine, my goddess," she whispered before placing her lips right at the nape of her neck. It was only then, when she could breathe in the woman's scent, as she felt the mound against her palm that she realized something was very, very wrong.
Oh, shit.
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Breathe.
The pace of Ana's breath helped still her racing heart, tempering that ill-borne excitement with the necessity of patience. The thief was excited to break into a home again, but this time it wasn't to take something. Rather, she felt taken. As her perceptions and world seemed to crumble, a shining utopia at last showing the cracks in its facade... this at the very least felt... right. A liar and a thief she was, it was only right that her secrets made her feel safe.
Breathe.
She let her concerns fall by the wayside as he crouched behind a pillar near the entrance to the saraaya's gardens. It was always difficult for her to remember exactly where Chione's room was, and sneaking around for too long would draw an excess of attention. Rather than spend an eternity deliberating, she simply... took her best guess. Silent footfalls and carefully measured tumbles took her through the garden, stooping to obscure herself with stems and leaves before advancing. The guard seemed more lax than it should... perhaps there was something going on?
She didn't take the time to find out. Carefully, she wedged open a door, sliding her body through it in an effort to keep her entrance discrete. She'd heard from Chione that her father would be absent. That just left the two sisters, neither of whom, she hoped, would be wandering the grounds at this hour. Now... she was even more lost than ever. If the gardens hadn't served to disorient her, the splendor on the inside certainly did.
This is not what I'm here for...
She had to whisper it, fighting an instinct that she hadn't flourished in the months since she'd first encountered Akhenaten. With her lust for the finery so thoroughly satisfied, it was only when it was thrust in front of her face that she battled the spirit that time sought to tame.
Breathe...
A quiet gust of air flowed from her nostrils as her eyes fell shut. The sounds of footsteps were all but absent. She wondered where this infamous Berenike, keeper of the house, was. Perhaps when she got closer to people she'd find greater resistance? She tempered her footfalls once again, her feet gliding against smooth limestone up until the darkness that restrained her gaze was broken. Torchlight shimmered, bleeding through a hallway, leaving the Fallen Star to slide between the first door she saw.
Here, she saw... a vague familiarity. The room was massive, sprawled with furniture and decorations. But the candles were extinguished and a single figure lay in a large bed. Not everything was as she remembered, but... the Fallen Star seldom took stock in her memory. Between drinking and being driven to distraction there really was no trusting the clarity of her memory. Bemused that her lover would pretend to be sleeping while waiting for her but also rather amused at the prospect, Ana drew closer to the bed, her footsteps muffled by experience. Chione was facing away from her, and Ana hatched an idea.
Play coy with me, will you...
She almost laughed aloud at it. The Greek pulled the dark attire from her shoulders, letting it sink to the ground. Bared to the elements, she slid into the bed behind her lover, pressing her chest into the woman's back as she breathed sweet nothings into her ear. A hand wove between her ribs and elbow, claiming her breast with an indelicate motion.
"Rise and shine, my goddess," she whispered before placing her lips right at the nape of her neck. It was only then, when she could breathe in the woman's scent, as she felt the mound against her palm that she realized something was very, very wrong.
Oh, shit.
Breathe.
The pace of Ana's breath helped still her racing heart, tempering that ill-borne excitement with the necessity of patience. The thief was excited to break into a home again, but this time it wasn't to take something. Rather, she felt taken. As her perceptions and world seemed to crumble, a shining utopia at last showing the cracks in its facade... this at the very least felt... right. A liar and a thief she was, it was only right that her secrets made her feel safe.
Breathe.
She let her concerns fall by the wayside as he crouched behind a pillar near the entrance to the saraaya's gardens. It was always difficult for her to remember exactly where Chione's room was, and sneaking around for too long would draw an excess of attention. Rather than spend an eternity deliberating, she simply... took her best guess. Silent footfalls and carefully measured tumbles took her through the garden, stooping to obscure herself with stems and leaves before advancing. The guard seemed more lax than it should... perhaps there was something going on?
She didn't take the time to find out. Carefully, she wedged open a door, sliding her body through it in an effort to keep her entrance discrete. She'd heard from Chione that her father would be absent. That just left the two sisters, neither of whom, she hoped, would be wandering the grounds at this hour. Now... she was even more lost than ever. If the gardens hadn't served to disorient her, the splendor on the inside certainly did.
This is not what I'm here for...
She had to whisper it, fighting an instinct that she hadn't flourished in the months since she'd first encountered Akhenaten. With her lust for the finery so thoroughly satisfied, it was only when it was thrust in front of her face that she battled the spirit that time sought to tame.
Breathe...
A quiet gust of air flowed from her nostrils as her eyes fell shut. The sounds of footsteps were all but absent. She wondered where this infamous Berenike, keeper of the house, was. Perhaps when she got closer to people she'd find greater resistance? She tempered her footfalls once again, her feet gliding against smooth limestone up until the darkness that restrained her gaze was broken. Torchlight shimmered, bleeding through a hallway, leaving the Fallen Star to slide between the first door she saw.
Here, she saw... a vague familiarity. The room was massive, sprawled with furniture and decorations. But the candles were extinguished and a single figure lay in a large bed. Not everything was as she remembered, but... the Fallen Star seldom took stock in her memory. Between drinking and being driven to distraction there really was no trusting the clarity of her memory. Bemused that her lover would pretend to be sleeping while waiting for her but also rather amused at the prospect, Ana drew closer to the bed, her footsteps muffled by experience. Chione was facing away from her, and Ana hatched an idea.
Play coy with me, will you...
She almost laughed aloud at it. The Greek pulled the dark attire from her shoulders, letting it sink to the ground. Bared to the elements, she slid into the bed behind her lover, pressing her chest into the woman's back as she breathed sweet nothings into her ear. A hand wove between her ribs and elbow, claiming her breast with an indelicate motion.
"Rise and shine, my goddess," she whispered before placing her lips right at the nape of her neck. It was only then, when she could breathe in the woman's scent, as she felt the mound against her palm that she realized something was very, very wrong.
Oh, shit.
A chill breeze swept through the grand corridor that led to Mandisa's bed chamber, but with a belly full of wine, the unsteady young woman felt warm. It had been one of those evenings - with her father and older sister out of the house, there was no one about to sigh condescendingly in her direction as she whiled the evening away with a cup in hand. It was close to midnight by the time she stumbled into her room, supported by a slave girl. Mandisa flapped a hand at her and she hurried out.
Cursing herself at her habitual lack of self-control, she went about sloppily undressing. The usual routine of rinsing her face and arranging her hair in braids to keep it from tangling seemed hopelessly complicated, and she opted to fall into bed in her unkempt state. She would compose herself in the morning, when soberness had returned - at this moment she desperately craved deep dreamless sleep. She padded onto her gratuitously large bed on all fours, pulling haphazardly at the bedspread as she crawled under it. It took only a few moments for her to drift off, curled up on her side.
Mandisa was not used to dreams. They had come to her more clearly when she was a child, but in the past few years, as her inebriation around bed time became a more common occurrence, vague impressions of bizarre images were all she could describe to herself in the mornings.
The dream that came to her this night however, was unusually vivid. Were it not for her hazy faculties she might have thought that she had awoken. She registered the impression of a sound like a door sighing open and then closing, muffled but noticeable. A few moments later, her bedspread was disturbed, and her eyes slowly flickered and drew open as she began to come to. Before she could make sense of what was happening, an unfamiliar woman's voice whispered in her ear: "Rise and shine, my Goddess."
This was no dream. Her eyes widened as she noticed the sensation of the stranger's hand cupping her breast and sensually pressing her lips to the nape of Mandisa's neck. She gasped involuntarily and her body stiffened. Her first panicked thought was that some rogue must have come to take advantage of her - but that made no sense - it was a woman for one thing, and she spoke as if she knew Mandisa.
The gentle movement of the women pressed against her back stopped abruptly, seemingly in response to her own stiffened body. A bizarre moment passed. Then everything happened; Mandisa involuntarily cried out and pushed herself away, nearly tumbling out of the bed in her frenzy. She clumsily gathered the sheets up around her chest and scooted herself to the far corner of the mattress, all the while training her eyes on the intruder.
"W-what is the meaning of this?!" she shrieked, her voice quivering. Embarrassingly, she had the urge to call out to her dead mother, as though she was a child waking up from a nightmare. "What do you want? Who are you?" she blurted in the same frantic tone, feeling pricks of furious tears coming to her eyes.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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A chill breeze swept through the grand corridor that led to Mandisa's bed chamber, but with a belly full of wine, the unsteady young woman felt warm. It had been one of those evenings - with her father and older sister out of the house, there was no one about to sigh condescendingly in her direction as she whiled the evening away with a cup in hand. It was close to midnight by the time she stumbled into her room, supported by a slave girl. Mandisa flapped a hand at her and she hurried out.
Cursing herself at her habitual lack of self-control, she went about sloppily undressing. The usual routine of rinsing her face and arranging her hair in braids to keep it from tangling seemed hopelessly complicated, and she opted to fall into bed in her unkempt state. She would compose herself in the morning, when soberness had returned - at this moment she desperately craved deep dreamless sleep. She padded onto her gratuitously large bed on all fours, pulling haphazardly at the bedspread as she crawled under it. It took only a few moments for her to drift off, curled up on her side.
Mandisa was not used to dreams. They had come to her more clearly when she was a child, but in the past few years, as her inebriation around bed time became a more common occurrence, vague impressions of bizarre images were all she could describe to herself in the mornings.
The dream that came to her this night however, was unusually vivid. Were it not for her hazy faculties she might have thought that she had awoken. She registered the impression of a sound like a door sighing open and then closing, muffled but noticeable. A few moments later, her bedspread was disturbed, and her eyes slowly flickered and drew open as she began to come to. Before she could make sense of what was happening, an unfamiliar woman's voice whispered in her ear: "Rise and shine, my Goddess."
This was no dream. Her eyes widened as she noticed the sensation of the stranger's hand cupping her breast and sensually pressing her lips to the nape of Mandisa's neck. She gasped involuntarily and her body stiffened. Her first panicked thought was that some rogue must have come to take advantage of her - but that made no sense - it was a woman for one thing, and she spoke as if she knew Mandisa.
The gentle movement of the women pressed against her back stopped abruptly, seemingly in response to her own stiffened body. A bizarre moment passed. Then everything happened; Mandisa involuntarily cried out and pushed herself away, nearly tumbling out of the bed in her frenzy. She clumsily gathered the sheets up around her chest and scooted herself to the far corner of the mattress, all the while training her eyes on the intruder.
"W-what is the meaning of this?!" she shrieked, her voice quivering. Embarrassingly, she had the urge to call out to her dead mother, as though she was a child waking up from a nightmare. "What do you want? Who are you?" she blurted in the same frantic tone, feeling pricks of furious tears coming to her eyes.
A chill breeze swept through the grand corridor that led to Mandisa's bed chamber, but with a belly full of wine, the unsteady young woman felt warm. It had been one of those evenings - with her father and older sister out of the house, there was no one about to sigh condescendingly in her direction as she whiled the evening away with a cup in hand. It was close to midnight by the time she stumbled into her room, supported by a slave girl. Mandisa flapped a hand at her and she hurried out.
Cursing herself at her habitual lack of self-control, she went about sloppily undressing. The usual routine of rinsing her face and arranging her hair in braids to keep it from tangling seemed hopelessly complicated, and she opted to fall into bed in her unkempt state. She would compose herself in the morning, when soberness had returned - at this moment she desperately craved deep dreamless sleep. She padded onto her gratuitously large bed on all fours, pulling haphazardly at the bedspread as she crawled under it. It took only a few moments for her to drift off, curled up on her side.
Mandisa was not used to dreams. They had come to her more clearly when she was a child, but in the past few years, as her inebriation around bed time became a more common occurrence, vague impressions of bizarre images were all she could describe to herself in the mornings.
The dream that came to her this night however, was unusually vivid. Were it not for her hazy faculties she might have thought that she had awoken. She registered the impression of a sound like a door sighing open and then closing, muffled but noticeable. A few moments later, her bedspread was disturbed, and her eyes slowly flickered and drew open as she began to come to. Before she could make sense of what was happening, an unfamiliar woman's voice whispered in her ear: "Rise and shine, my Goddess."
This was no dream. Her eyes widened as she noticed the sensation of the stranger's hand cupping her breast and sensually pressing her lips to the nape of Mandisa's neck. She gasped involuntarily and her body stiffened. Her first panicked thought was that some rogue must have come to take advantage of her - but that made no sense - it was a woman for one thing, and she spoke as if she knew Mandisa.
The gentle movement of the women pressed against her back stopped abruptly, seemingly in response to her own stiffened body. A bizarre moment passed. Then everything happened; Mandisa involuntarily cried out and pushed herself away, nearly tumbling out of the bed in her frenzy. She clumsily gathered the sheets up around her chest and scooted herself to the far corner of the mattress, all the while training her eyes on the intruder.
"W-what is the meaning of this?!" she shrieked, her voice quivering. Embarrassingly, she had the urge to call out to her dead mother, as though she was a child waking up from a nightmare. "What do you want? Who are you?" she blurted in the same frantic tone, feeling pricks of furious tears coming to her eyes.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Ana was mortified to discover that she had not, in fact, sidled right up against the familiar body of her lover. So driven to distraction at the very thought of sneaking up on Chione, it had not occurred to her that the silhouette could be anyone else. Caution was thrown by the wayside in the face of eagerness and now... Anastasia couldn't shake the unfathomable darkness that curtained her. Fear, embarrassment, and panic set in simultaneously, pushing the Fallen Star into a pit. All too suddenly, Anastasia was buffeted by sensation. The foreign smell of a different Isazari daughter flooded her nostrils, the sensation of a different breast moulded to the shape of her palm...
Then, that shriek reverberated through the room. Immediately, Ana created distance between the two of them. Unlike Mandisa, who covered herself with a blanket, she was bare, with merely the sapphire stone nestled in silver at her throat and tresses of dark hair providing a contradiction to the expanse of pearly flesh. Anastasia found herself on the floor, her legs scooching her body back until she hit the wall nearest to the portal she'd entered from. The cool surface brought a shiver that rolled down the plane of her spine, eyes wide as she struggled to make sense of it all.
This had to be the other sister, Mandisa. Scrambling to find logic in the midst of being mortified, Anastasia felt the breath come ragged from her lips, hazel scrambling from wall to wall. If she left now, then surely, guards would be summoned. She had to...
Fuckfuckfuckfuck.
Clearly, there was no help for her in her head. Scrambling in the darkness, Ana recovered her dark attire, but hardly had the faculties to ensure them being secured back onto her body. Instead, she covered her breasts and allowed the fabric to pool over her stomach and raised knees. The chill only grew steeper as she struggled to find her voice. A steadier breath staggered up until she found herself at last. A flicker of memory, to another time, another realm altogether. Her days in Greece found a similarly mortifying circumstance, though... the comparison was wasted on her. She steeled herself, gritting her teeth for but a moment until she answered,
"From you? Nothing... This is the wrong room. Wrong person..."
The words felt like daggers on her tongue. For a woman who prided herself on her articulate nature, she was frozen. Shut down. Her gaze flickered again, beads of sweat glittering her brow as she mustered,
"I... My name is Ana?" she offered, her lips curving into a sheepish grin even as her brain screeched at her, as nails grated into stone she felt the reverberations shake through her entire body. Shaking, reeling, utterly bemused at the absurdity of her actions. Anastasia thought nothing of retreat. She lowered the garment to cover her knees, arms crossed to obscure her breasts from both the chill and the scrutiny of her opposite.
"I... we... couldn't have met in a worse way," she realized, scolded again and again by the sense of reason that was unable to form any sort of answer. No, the irrational side of Anastasia was the only side that found words, and she detested every moment of it as the unconscious imagining of the first stones flying at her partially buried body. At the very least... right now, Chione would be spared from the depths of her idiocy. If she kept her mouth shut, perhaps it'd stay that way. Ana unfurled her arms, pushing her palms out so that her wrists were raised in a gesture of surrender.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Ana was mortified to discover that she had not, in fact, sidled right up against the familiar body of her lover. So driven to distraction at the very thought of sneaking up on Chione, it had not occurred to her that the silhouette could be anyone else. Caution was thrown by the wayside in the face of eagerness and now... Anastasia couldn't shake the unfathomable darkness that curtained her. Fear, embarrassment, and panic set in simultaneously, pushing the Fallen Star into a pit. All too suddenly, Anastasia was buffeted by sensation. The foreign smell of a different Isazari daughter flooded her nostrils, the sensation of a different breast moulded to the shape of her palm...
Then, that shriek reverberated through the room. Immediately, Ana created distance between the two of them. Unlike Mandisa, who covered herself with a blanket, she was bare, with merely the sapphire stone nestled in silver at her throat and tresses of dark hair providing a contradiction to the expanse of pearly flesh. Anastasia found herself on the floor, her legs scooching her body back until she hit the wall nearest to the portal she'd entered from. The cool surface brought a shiver that rolled down the plane of her spine, eyes wide as she struggled to make sense of it all.
This had to be the other sister, Mandisa. Scrambling to find logic in the midst of being mortified, Anastasia felt the breath come ragged from her lips, hazel scrambling from wall to wall. If she left now, then surely, guards would be summoned. She had to...
Fuckfuckfuckfuck.
Clearly, there was no help for her in her head. Scrambling in the darkness, Ana recovered her dark attire, but hardly had the faculties to ensure them being secured back onto her body. Instead, she covered her breasts and allowed the fabric to pool over her stomach and raised knees. The chill only grew steeper as she struggled to find her voice. A steadier breath staggered up until she found herself at last. A flicker of memory, to another time, another realm altogether. Her days in Greece found a similarly mortifying circumstance, though... the comparison was wasted on her. She steeled herself, gritting her teeth for but a moment until she answered,
"From you? Nothing... This is the wrong room. Wrong person..."
The words felt like daggers on her tongue. For a woman who prided herself on her articulate nature, she was frozen. Shut down. Her gaze flickered again, beads of sweat glittering her brow as she mustered,
"I... My name is Ana?" she offered, her lips curving into a sheepish grin even as her brain screeched at her, as nails grated into stone she felt the reverberations shake through her entire body. Shaking, reeling, utterly bemused at the absurdity of her actions. Anastasia thought nothing of retreat. She lowered the garment to cover her knees, arms crossed to obscure her breasts from both the chill and the scrutiny of her opposite.
"I... we... couldn't have met in a worse way," she realized, scolded again and again by the sense of reason that was unable to form any sort of answer. No, the irrational side of Anastasia was the only side that found words, and she detested every moment of it as the unconscious imagining of the first stones flying at her partially buried body. At the very least... right now, Chione would be spared from the depths of her idiocy. If she kept her mouth shut, perhaps it'd stay that way. Ana unfurled her arms, pushing her palms out so that her wrists were raised in a gesture of surrender.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Ana was mortified to discover that she had not, in fact, sidled right up against the familiar body of her lover. So driven to distraction at the very thought of sneaking up on Chione, it had not occurred to her that the silhouette could be anyone else. Caution was thrown by the wayside in the face of eagerness and now... Anastasia couldn't shake the unfathomable darkness that curtained her. Fear, embarrassment, and panic set in simultaneously, pushing the Fallen Star into a pit. All too suddenly, Anastasia was buffeted by sensation. The foreign smell of a different Isazari daughter flooded her nostrils, the sensation of a different breast moulded to the shape of her palm...
Then, that shriek reverberated through the room. Immediately, Ana created distance between the two of them. Unlike Mandisa, who covered herself with a blanket, she was bare, with merely the sapphire stone nestled in silver at her throat and tresses of dark hair providing a contradiction to the expanse of pearly flesh. Anastasia found herself on the floor, her legs scooching her body back until she hit the wall nearest to the portal she'd entered from. The cool surface brought a shiver that rolled down the plane of her spine, eyes wide as she struggled to make sense of it all.
This had to be the other sister, Mandisa. Scrambling to find logic in the midst of being mortified, Anastasia felt the breath come ragged from her lips, hazel scrambling from wall to wall. If she left now, then surely, guards would be summoned. She had to...
Fuckfuckfuckfuck.
Clearly, there was no help for her in her head. Scrambling in the darkness, Ana recovered her dark attire, but hardly had the faculties to ensure them being secured back onto her body. Instead, she covered her breasts and allowed the fabric to pool over her stomach and raised knees. The chill only grew steeper as she struggled to find her voice. A steadier breath staggered up until she found herself at last. A flicker of memory, to another time, another realm altogether. Her days in Greece found a similarly mortifying circumstance, though... the comparison was wasted on her. She steeled herself, gritting her teeth for but a moment until she answered,
"From you? Nothing... This is the wrong room. Wrong person..."
The words felt like daggers on her tongue. For a woman who prided herself on her articulate nature, she was frozen. Shut down. Her gaze flickered again, beads of sweat glittering her brow as she mustered,
"I... My name is Ana?" she offered, her lips curving into a sheepish grin even as her brain screeched at her, as nails grated into stone she felt the reverberations shake through her entire body. Shaking, reeling, utterly bemused at the absurdity of her actions. Anastasia thought nothing of retreat. She lowered the garment to cover her knees, arms crossed to obscure her breasts from both the chill and the scrutiny of her opposite.
"I... we... couldn't have met in a worse way," she realized, scolded again and again by the sense of reason that was unable to form any sort of answer. No, the irrational side of Anastasia was the only side that found words, and she detested every moment of it as the unconscious imagining of the first stones flying at her partially buried body. At the very least... right now, Chione would be spared from the depths of her idiocy. If she kept her mouth shut, perhaps it'd stay that way. Ana unfurled her arms, pushing her palms out so that her wrists were raised in a gesture of surrender.
As the initial shock began to ware off, Mandisa detected a dull throb in her forehead - no doubt a consequence of her overindulgence. The inevitable hangover had begun brewing, and if not for that, she might not have been so quick to accept that she was actually awake. The unwelcome woman must have toppled onto the floor in the confusion. Mandisa stared dumbly at her pale naked body as she clambered her way backwards until she was pressed against the nearest wall.
Embarrassment began to set in as Mandisa gawped at the woman. It was not the nudity that caused her distress - the naked body was as unprovocative to her as it would be to any Egyptian - but the bizarrely intimate way the woman grasped her body. To be fair, Mandisa had little idea of what was and was not common in the bedroom, but a woman behaving this way towards her was outside the realm of possibilities that she had previously considered. Her line of thought was interrupted by the woman pulling some piece of fabric up over her body.
Several seconds passed in which Mandisa's dark eyes flitted about the room, then the woman spoke. Her voice betrayed her embarrassment, but her tone was quaveringly explanatory, as if the whole thing was some misunderstanding. "Wrong room?", she repeated incredulously. Mandisa could sense her desperation - she was like a cat trapped in a corner. Her name was Ana. "What?" she replied with a small shake of her head - of what importance could a name be at a time like this?
Ana took a moment to rearrange her covering and then continued what seemed to be an attempt to placate Mandisa. It occurred to her that if she screamed the guards would no doubt come to investigate. Before she could finish drawing a large breath in preparation, Ana confused her further. "I... we... couldn't have met in a worse way,” she offered. Mandisa was taken aback. "You... you know me?" Her brow furrowed as her fear began to fade into anger. In what reality could some strange woman sneak into her room in the middle of the night, climb in bed beside her, and then try to write the violation off as some innocent mistake?
Ana held her palms out in a gesture of surrender, but it did little to quell Mandisa's quickly intensifying fury. "Why should we have met?!" she retorted, blinking her eyes furiously. "Stay where you are!" Mandisa finally unfurled from her defensive posture and stood up from her bed, still holding the blanket against her body. She padded around her bed so that she would have a direct line to the door, should she decide to make a run for it.
"Explain yourself, or I'll scream", she said, trying to sound authoritative. Her voice quivered and she cursed herself. Whatever this insane situation truly was, she needed to keep the upper hand.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As the initial shock began to ware off, Mandisa detected a dull throb in her forehead - no doubt a consequence of her overindulgence. The inevitable hangover had begun brewing, and if not for that, she might not have been so quick to accept that she was actually awake. The unwelcome woman must have toppled onto the floor in the confusion. Mandisa stared dumbly at her pale naked body as she clambered her way backwards until she was pressed against the nearest wall.
Embarrassment began to set in as Mandisa gawped at the woman. It was not the nudity that caused her distress - the naked body was as unprovocative to her as it would be to any Egyptian - but the bizarrely intimate way the woman grasped her body. To be fair, Mandisa had little idea of what was and was not common in the bedroom, but a woman behaving this way towards her was outside the realm of possibilities that she had previously considered. Her line of thought was interrupted by the woman pulling some piece of fabric up over her body.
Several seconds passed in which Mandisa's dark eyes flitted about the room, then the woman spoke. Her voice betrayed her embarrassment, but her tone was quaveringly explanatory, as if the whole thing was some misunderstanding. "Wrong room?", she repeated incredulously. Mandisa could sense her desperation - she was like a cat trapped in a corner. Her name was Ana. "What?" she replied with a small shake of her head - of what importance could a name be at a time like this?
Ana took a moment to rearrange her covering and then continued what seemed to be an attempt to placate Mandisa. It occurred to her that if she screamed the guards would no doubt come to investigate. Before she could finish drawing a large breath in preparation, Ana confused her further. "I... we... couldn't have met in a worse way,” she offered. Mandisa was taken aback. "You... you know me?" Her brow furrowed as her fear began to fade into anger. In what reality could some strange woman sneak into her room in the middle of the night, climb in bed beside her, and then try to write the violation off as some innocent mistake?
Ana held her palms out in a gesture of surrender, but it did little to quell Mandisa's quickly intensifying fury. "Why should we have met?!" she retorted, blinking her eyes furiously. "Stay where you are!" Mandisa finally unfurled from her defensive posture and stood up from her bed, still holding the blanket against her body. She padded around her bed so that she would have a direct line to the door, should she decide to make a run for it.
"Explain yourself, or I'll scream", she said, trying to sound authoritative. Her voice quivered and she cursed herself. Whatever this insane situation truly was, she needed to keep the upper hand.
As the initial shock began to ware off, Mandisa detected a dull throb in her forehead - no doubt a consequence of her overindulgence. The inevitable hangover had begun brewing, and if not for that, she might not have been so quick to accept that she was actually awake. The unwelcome woman must have toppled onto the floor in the confusion. Mandisa stared dumbly at her pale naked body as she clambered her way backwards until she was pressed against the nearest wall.
Embarrassment began to set in as Mandisa gawped at the woman. It was not the nudity that caused her distress - the naked body was as unprovocative to her as it would be to any Egyptian - but the bizarrely intimate way the woman grasped her body. To be fair, Mandisa had little idea of what was and was not common in the bedroom, but a woman behaving this way towards her was outside the realm of possibilities that she had previously considered. Her line of thought was interrupted by the woman pulling some piece of fabric up over her body.
Several seconds passed in which Mandisa's dark eyes flitted about the room, then the woman spoke. Her voice betrayed her embarrassment, but her tone was quaveringly explanatory, as if the whole thing was some misunderstanding. "Wrong room?", she repeated incredulously. Mandisa could sense her desperation - she was like a cat trapped in a corner. Her name was Ana. "What?" she replied with a small shake of her head - of what importance could a name be at a time like this?
Ana took a moment to rearrange her covering and then continued what seemed to be an attempt to placate Mandisa. It occurred to her that if she screamed the guards would no doubt come to investigate. Before she could finish drawing a large breath in preparation, Ana confused her further. "I... we... couldn't have met in a worse way,” she offered. Mandisa was taken aback. "You... you know me?" Her brow furrowed as her fear began to fade into anger. In what reality could some strange woman sneak into her room in the middle of the night, climb in bed beside her, and then try to write the violation off as some innocent mistake?
Ana held her palms out in a gesture of surrender, but it did little to quell Mandisa's quickly intensifying fury. "Why should we have met?!" she retorted, blinking her eyes furiously. "Stay where you are!" Mandisa finally unfurled from her defensive posture and stood up from her bed, still holding the blanket against her body. She padded around her bed so that she would have a direct line to the door, should she decide to make a run for it.
"Explain yourself, or I'll scream", she said, trying to sound authoritative. Her voice quivered and she cursed herself. Whatever this insane situation truly was, she needed to keep the upper hand.
Chione was growing impatient.
Ana had promised to come to her tonight. She’d tried to go about her evening as normal, and yet she seemed to glance between the door and the window every few moments. The Greek was all she could think about lately. It was as intoxicating as it was unsettling. Something about the woman possessed her spirit in a way that none ever had. Chione enjoyed sex, but she had never cared who she received it from. Sure, she had favorites, those she found more pleasing and enjoyable, but everyone was replaceable. If she had a need to be sated, it mattered little who she found her satisfaction with.
That was no longer true.
It frightened her the way the other woman seemed to consume her. Her body needed her touch desperately. There was no such thing as self control between them. But it went far beyond the physical. When they were apart, Ana was never far from her thoughts. Everything seemed to lead back to her somehow. Oh, Ana would love this wine. I must remember to tell her of this. This shawl would look so well on her. A thousand thoughts, all going back to her lover. Not to speak of the jealousy that she felt at the notion of Ana with another. Seeing her, hell, even thinking of her with the Shiefa heir all but made her blood boil. A reaction entirely foreign to the woman before now.
Mind, body and soul, this woman had ensnared her it seemed.
Which only made waiting for her arrival all the more torturous. What could possibly be keeping her? Could Hena have called on her at the villa? Was she wrapped up in the sheets with him instead? That thought cut through her like a blade, making her go cold. It was only the sharp sound of a scream that cut through the turmoil such a possibility inspired within her. Mandisa. She was the only of the Isazari in residence at the moment, so it had to be her.
Throwing a wrap around herself, she hurried out into the hall and in the direction of the sound. The more she thought about it, the more confused she was about what the issue could even be. It was that which drove her footsteps now. The last thing she needed was everyone on high alert when Ana was supposed to be arriving any time now. What had her sister gotten into now?
She arrived at the young woman’s door, opening it to ask what was wrong, only to be struck dumb by the sight before her. Her sister was standing between the door and her bed, with only a blanket held over her body. Meanwhile, Ana was on the floor, similarly bare except for the fabric she held over herself. For a split moment, it was an intense jealous rage that swept through her that another was seeing her Anastasia in such a state, but that faded all too quickly as she realized the greater issue at hand. Instead, an deathly cold swept through her, clutching at her heart.
Why was Ana in here of all places? And why was she naked? Why had Mandisa shrieked? There was too much she didn’t understand. She wanted to run to Ana, to protect her from her sister’s wrath, but she couldn’t risk their secret being known. She needed to understand how bad things were to begin to guess at how to explain it away. Her eyes glanced to Ana, trying to betray nothing but still concerned nonetheless. She shook her head as she stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her. She didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing.
This was a mess.
So instead she turned to her sister. “What in Set's name is going on here?” she demanded.
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Chione was growing impatient.
Ana had promised to come to her tonight. She’d tried to go about her evening as normal, and yet she seemed to glance between the door and the window every few moments. The Greek was all she could think about lately. It was as intoxicating as it was unsettling. Something about the woman possessed her spirit in a way that none ever had. Chione enjoyed sex, but she had never cared who she received it from. Sure, she had favorites, those she found more pleasing and enjoyable, but everyone was replaceable. If she had a need to be sated, it mattered little who she found her satisfaction with.
That was no longer true.
It frightened her the way the other woman seemed to consume her. Her body needed her touch desperately. There was no such thing as self control between them. But it went far beyond the physical. When they were apart, Ana was never far from her thoughts. Everything seemed to lead back to her somehow. Oh, Ana would love this wine. I must remember to tell her of this. This shawl would look so well on her. A thousand thoughts, all going back to her lover. Not to speak of the jealousy that she felt at the notion of Ana with another. Seeing her, hell, even thinking of her with the Shiefa heir all but made her blood boil. A reaction entirely foreign to the woman before now.
Mind, body and soul, this woman had ensnared her it seemed.
Which only made waiting for her arrival all the more torturous. What could possibly be keeping her? Could Hena have called on her at the villa? Was she wrapped up in the sheets with him instead? That thought cut through her like a blade, making her go cold. It was only the sharp sound of a scream that cut through the turmoil such a possibility inspired within her. Mandisa. She was the only of the Isazari in residence at the moment, so it had to be her.
Throwing a wrap around herself, she hurried out into the hall and in the direction of the sound. The more she thought about it, the more confused she was about what the issue could even be. It was that which drove her footsteps now. The last thing she needed was everyone on high alert when Ana was supposed to be arriving any time now. What had her sister gotten into now?
She arrived at the young woman’s door, opening it to ask what was wrong, only to be struck dumb by the sight before her. Her sister was standing between the door and her bed, with only a blanket held over her body. Meanwhile, Ana was on the floor, similarly bare except for the fabric she held over herself. For a split moment, it was an intense jealous rage that swept through her that another was seeing her Anastasia in such a state, but that faded all too quickly as she realized the greater issue at hand. Instead, an deathly cold swept through her, clutching at her heart.
Why was Ana in here of all places? And why was she naked? Why had Mandisa shrieked? There was too much she didn’t understand. She wanted to run to Ana, to protect her from her sister’s wrath, but she couldn’t risk their secret being known. She needed to understand how bad things were to begin to guess at how to explain it away. Her eyes glanced to Ana, trying to betray nothing but still concerned nonetheless. She shook her head as she stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her. She didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing.
This was a mess.
So instead she turned to her sister. “What in Set's name is going on here?” she demanded.
Chione was growing impatient.
Ana had promised to come to her tonight. She’d tried to go about her evening as normal, and yet she seemed to glance between the door and the window every few moments. The Greek was all she could think about lately. It was as intoxicating as it was unsettling. Something about the woman possessed her spirit in a way that none ever had. Chione enjoyed sex, but she had never cared who she received it from. Sure, she had favorites, those she found more pleasing and enjoyable, but everyone was replaceable. If she had a need to be sated, it mattered little who she found her satisfaction with.
That was no longer true.
It frightened her the way the other woman seemed to consume her. Her body needed her touch desperately. There was no such thing as self control between them. But it went far beyond the physical. When they were apart, Ana was never far from her thoughts. Everything seemed to lead back to her somehow. Oh, Ana would love this wine. I must remember to tell her of this. This shawl would look so well on her. A thousand thoughts, all going back to her lover. Not to speak of the jealousy that she felt at the notion of Ana with another. Seeing her, hell, even thinking of her with the Shiefa heir all but made her blood boil. A reaction entirely foreign to the woman before now.
Mind, body and soul, this woman had ensnared her it seemed.
Which only made waiting for her arrival all the more torturous. What could possibly be keeping her? Could Hena have called on her at the villa? Was she wrapped up in the sheets with him instead? That thought cut through her like a blade, making her go cold. It was only the sharp sound of a scream that cut through the turmoil such a possibility inspired within her. Mandisa. She was the only of the Isazari in residence at the moment, so it had to be her.
Throwing a wrap around herself, she hurried out into the hall and in the direction of the sound. The more she thought about it, the more confused she was about what the issue could even be. It was that which drove her footsteps now. The last thing she needed was everyone on high alert when Ana was supposed to be arriving any time now. What had her sister gotten into now?
She arrived at the young woman’s door, opening it to ask what was wrong, only to be struck dumb by the sight before her. Her sister was standing between the door and her bed, with only a blanket held over her body. Meanwhile, Ana was on the floor, similarly bare except for the fabric she held over herself. For a split moment, it was an intense jealous rage that swept through her that another was seeing her Anastasia in such a state, but that faded all too quickly as she realized the greater issue at hand. Instead, an deathly cold swept through her, clutching at her heart.
Why was Ana in here of all places? And why was she naked? Why had Mandisa shrieked? There was too much she didn’t understand. She wanted to run to Ana, to protect her from her sister’s wrath, but she couldn’t risk their secret being known. She needed to understand how bad things were to begin to guess at how to explain it away. Her eyes glanced to Ana, trying to betray nothing but still concerned nonetheless. She shook her head as she stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her. She didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing.
This was a mess.
So instead she turned to her sister. “What in Set's name is going on here?” she demanded.
Anastasia reflected on the possibility that, if she ever escaped this saraaya intact, she needed to make some changes in her life. Always, Anastasia was content to let her desires roll into one, the culmination of wants and whimsy harkened towards doom, the ever-present threat of being stoned to death not quite escaping her. And yet, she pressed into those desires so willingly, toeing the blistering heat as she walked closer and closer to a fire. Her burgeoning affection with Chione, something that threatened to blossom into far more dangerous feelings...
This is the consequence for wanting to be Icarus.
Of course Mandisa had no idea what Ana was talking about when she began to ramble. She threw out half-baked explanations, inkling towards truths that were razors against her chest. It would've been ideal to meet this girl somewhere neutral, to befriend her separately and be introduced later to Chione. The closer Ana got to the Isazari, the better the cover story for her affair with their middle daughter could become. But, it was impossible now. Anastasia had no intention of moving. Instead, she rested her back against the wall, slowly bringing herself to her feet as she murmured,
"Right, that didn't... uh, make sense."
She was recovering her nerve, even as she felt ever so foolish in the venture of it.
"Explain yourself, or I'll scream!" Ana heard the threat as it was. She thought once of Chione, and the feelings she'd need to leave behind to spare the both of them a bitter end.
I've made new lives before... This is just my curse, she considered before she let her lips part in a pathetic beginning to an explanation.
"I know... of you. Your s--"
The sound of footsteps shifting through a cracked-open door, the gentle thud of it shutting behind her. Cut off by Chione's entrance, it was then that the fallen star decided that she was far too naked for any of this. Already, she'd defiled the young Mandisa, and idly she wondered if anyone else had touched her that way. Taking her mind out of that train of reference, she rose to her feet, slowly wrapping herself in the garment she'd so stupidly peeled off from her body.
"Lady Chione," Ana offered first, throwing herself to the floor in a flourish. She looked up at the woman, mouthing for her to strike her. If the need arose, it would seem better for the pair of them that she was some deviant of a servant whose vile, treacherous hands could yet be corrected from this course.
"I fear... I had too much to drink." She swooned on command, then returned her gaze towards the younger lady once more,
"My head is... my, I feel so faint." Slowly, Ana began to fan herself, letting slow breaths fill her lungs as she grimaced towards Chione, expecting the violence she asked for.
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Anastasia reflected on the possibility that, if she ever escaped this saraaya intact, she needed to make some changes in her life. Always, Anastasia was content to let her desires roll into one, the culmination of wants and whimsy harkened towards doom, the ever-present threat of being stoned to death not quite escaping her. And yet, she pressed into those desires so willingly, toeing the blistering heat as she walked closer and closer to a fire. Her burgeoning affection with Chione, something that threatened to blossom into far more dangerous feelings...
This is the consequence for wanting to be Icarus.
Of course Mandisa had no idea what Ana was talking about when she began to ramble. She threw out half-baked explanations, inkling towards truths that were razors against her chest. It would've been ideal to meet this girl somewhere neutral, to befriend her separately and be introduced later to Chione. The closer Ana got to the Isazari, the better the cover story for her affair with their middle daughter could become. But, it was impossible now. Anastasia had no intention of moving. Instead, she rested her back against the wall, slowly bringing herself to her feet as she murmured,
"Right, that didn't... uh, make sense."
She was recovering her nerve, even as she felt ever so foolish in the venture of it.
"Explain yourself, or I'll scream!" Ana heard the threat as it was. She thought once of Chione, and the feelings she'd need to leave behind to spare the both of them a bitter end.
I've made new lives before... This is just my curse, she considered before she let her lips part in a pathetic beginning to an explanation.
"I know... of you. Your s--"
The sound of footsteps shifting through a cracked-open door, the gentle thud of it shutting behind her. Cut off by Chione's entrance, it was then that the fallen star decided that she was far too naked for any of this. Already, she'd defiled the young Mandisa, and idly she wondered if anyone else had touched her that way. Taking her mind out of that train of reference, she rose to her feet, slowly wrapping herself in the garment she'd so stupidly peeled off from her body.
"Lady Chione," Ana offered first, throwing herself to the floor in a flourish. She looked up at the woman, mouthing for her to strike her. If the need arose, it would seem better for the pair of them that she was some deviant of a servant whose vile, treacherous hands could yet be corrected from this course.
"I fear... I had too much to drink." She swooned on command, then returned her gaze towards the younger lady once more,
"My head is... my, I feel so faint." Slowly, Ana began to fan herself, letting slow breaths fill her lungs as she grimaced towards Chione, expecting the violence she asked for.
Anastasia reflected on the possibility that, if she ever escaped this saraaya intact, she needed to make some changes in her life. Always, Anastasia was content to let her desires roll into one, the culmination of wants and whimsy harkened towards doom, the ever-present threat of being stoned to death not quite escaping her. And yet, she pressed into those desires so willingly, toeing the blistering heat as she walked closer and closer to a fire. Her burgeoning affection with Chione, something that threatened to blossom into far more dangerous feelings...
This is the consequence for wanting to be Icarus.
Of course Mandisa had no idea what Ana was talking about when she began to ramble. She threw out half-baked explanations, inkling towards truths that were razors against her chest. It would've been ideal to meet this girl somewhere neutral, to befriend her separately and be introduced later to Chione. The closer Ana got to the Isazari, the better the cover story for her affair with their middle daughter could become. But, it was impossible now. Anastasia had no intention of moving. Instead, she rested her back against the wall, slowly bringing herself to her feet as she murmured,
"Right, that didn't... uh, make sense."
She was recovering her nerve, even as she felt ever so foolish in the venture of it.
"Explain yourself, or I'll scream!" Ana heard the threat as it was. She thought once of Chione, and the feelings she'd need to leave behind to spare the both of them a bitter end.
I've made new lives before... This is just my curse, she considered before she let her lips part in a pathetic beginning to an explanation.
"I know... of you. Your s--"
The sound of footsteps shifting through a cracked-open door, the gentle thud of it shutting behind her. Cut off by Chione's entrance, it was then that the fallen star decided that she was far too naked for any of this. Already, she'd defiled the young Mandisa, and idly she wondered if anyone else had touched her that way. Taking her mind out of that train of reference, she rose to her feet, slowly wrapping herself in the garment she'd so stupidly peeled off from her body.
"Lady Chione," Ana offered first, throwing herself to the floor in a flourish. She looked up at the woman, mouthing for her to strike her. If the need arose, it would seem better for the pair of them that she was some deviant of a servant whose vile, treacherous hands could yet be corrected from this course.
"I fear... I had too much to drink." She swooned on command, then returned her gaze towards the younger lady once more,
"My head is... my, I feel so faint." Slowly, Ana began to fan herself, letting slow breaths fill her lungs as she grimaced towards Chione, expecting the violence she asked for.
Keeping her eyes trained on the strange woman hunched against the wall, Mandisa pulled the blanket tighter around her and held it up with one hand, using the other to push her tangled hair out of her face. She could only imagine how wild and unkempt she must have looked, and it increased her distress further. Mandisa was no stranger to tricky or awkward social situations, but she usually had the comfort of knowing that her adversary would likely be at least slightly thrown off by her beauty and impeccable grooming - like this she felt painfully vulnerable.
She was distracted by the noise of light footsteps hurrying through the corridor. Mandisa wondered if it was one of the servant girls. But why wouldn't they have sent a guard? Her question was answered when the door was thrown open. It was Chione. She seemed dumb struck for a few counts, then a shadow of fury possessed her lovely face before she composed herself again - a confusing reaction, Mandisa thought. Her brows furrowed and again she felt the urge to cry in frustration. She needed some explanation and soon, or else she felt sure she would not be able to hold the juvenile tears at bay.
Her sister set her pale eyes on Mandisa and said "What in Set's name is going on here?" Mandisa widened her eyes in disbelief. "How should I possibly know that?!" she cried, her voice high pitched in indignation.
It was then that the instigator of this predicament finally rose to her feet and rearranged her garment on her body so that she was no longer bare. She called Chione by name and flung herself to the ground. Mandisa's exasperation grew worse. This woman was obviously linked to her sister, and yet Chione had the gall to demand answers from her? “I fear... I had too much to drink,” Ana offered. Was she some servant of her sister's? Her clothing was too fine, and her face was not Egyptian. Perhaps some favoured slave? Then why had Mandisa never laid eyes on her before? Ana began to dramatically fan herself, but Mandisa was suspicious of this new explanation. She had seemed perfectly sober a minute ago.
Anger - and perhaps the lingering affect of the wine she had consumed only a few hours earlier - made Mandisa bold, and she took on a tone that she would not normally direct at one of her older and more assertive sisters. This intruder seems to know you Chione, and she claims to know me, yet I have never once seen her before, in this house or anywhere else!" Her voice grew louder and she became more frenzied. "Yet she saw fit to climb in bed beside me and whisper in my ear like a lover! Perhaps you should explain what exactly is going on!" She pressed her hand against her face for a moment, trying to quiet the throb in her temples that her near-shouting had brought on. She turned her back on them and tried to take deep breaths.
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Keeping her eyes trained on the strange woman hunched against the wall, Mandisa pulled the blanket tighter around her and held it up with one hand, using the other to push her tangled hair out of her face. She could only imagine how wild and unkempt she must have looked, and it increased her distress further. Mandisa was no stranger to tricky or awkward social situations, but she usually had the comfort of knowing that her adversary would likely be at least slightly thrown off by her beauty and impeccable grooming - like this she felt painfully vulnerable.
She was distracted by the noise of light footsteps hurrying through the corridor. Mandisa wondered if it was one of the servant girls. But why wouldn't they have sent a guard? Her question was answered when the door was thrown open. It was Chione. She seemed dumb struck for a few counts, then a shadow of fury possessed her lovely face before she composed herself again - a confusing reaction, Mandisa thought. Her brows furrowed and again she felt the urge to cry in frustration. She needed some explanation and soon, or else she felt sure she would not be able to hold the juvenile tears at bay.
Her sister set her pale eyes on Mandisa and said "What in Set's name is going on here?" Mandisa widened her eyes in disbelief. "How should I possibly know that?!" she cried, her voice high pitched in indignation.
It was then that the instigator of this predicament finally rose to her feet and rearranged her garment on her body so that she was no longer bare. She called Chione by name and flung herself to the ground. Mandisa's exasperation grew worse. This woman was obviously linked to her sister, and yet Chione had the gall to demand answers from her? “I fear... I had too much to drink,” Ana offered. Was she some servant of her sister's? Her clothing was too fine, and her face was not Egyptian. Perhaps some favoured slave? Then why had Mandisa never laid eyes on her before? Ana began to dramatically fan herself, but Mandisa was suspicious of this new explanation. She had seemed perfectly sober a minute ago.
Anger - and perhaps the lingering affect of the wine she had consumed only a few hours earlier - made Mandisa bold, and she took on a tone that she would not normally direct at one of her older and more assertive sisters. This intruder seems to know you Chione, and she claims to know me, yet I have never once seen her before, in this house or anywhere else!" Her voice grew louder and she became more frenzied. "Yet she saw fit to climb in bed beside me and whisper in my ear like a lover! Perhaps you should explain what exactly is going on!" She pressed her hand against her face for a moment, trying to quiet the throb in her temples that her near-shouting had brought on. She turned her back on them and tried to take deep breaths.
Keeping her eyes trained on the strange woman hunched against the wall, Mandisa pulled the blanket tighter around her and held it up with one hand, using the other to push her tangled hair out of her face. She could only imagine how wild and unkempt she must have looked, and it increased her distress further. Mandisa was no stranger to tricky or awkward social situations, but she usually had the comfort of knowing that her adversary would likely be at least slightly thrown off by her beauty and impeccable grooming - like this she felt painfully vulnerable.
She was distracted by the noise of light footsteps hurrying through the corridor. Mandisa wondered if it was one of the servant girls. But why wouldn't they have sent a guard? Her question was answered when the door was thrown open. It was Chione. She seemed dumb struck for a few counts, then a shadow of fury possessed her lovely face before she composed herself again - a confusing reaction, Mandisa thought. Her brows furrowed and again she felt the urge to cry in frustration. She needed some explanation and soon, or else she felt sure she would not be able to hold the juvenile tears at bay.
Her sister set her pale eyes on Mandisa and said "What in Set's name is going on here?" Mandisa widened her eyes in disbelief. "How should I possibly know that?!" she cried, her voice high pitched in indignation.
It was then that the instigator of this predicament finally rose to her feet and rearranged her garment on her body so that she was no longer bare. She called Chione by name and flung herself to the ground. Mandisa's exasperation grew worse. This woman was obviously linked to her sister, and yet Chione had the gall to demand answers from her? “I fear... I had too much to drink,” Ana offered. Was she some servant of her sister's? Her clothing was too fine, and her face was not Egyptian. Perhaps some favoured slave? Then why had Mandisa never laid eyes on her before? Ana began to dramatically fan herself, but Mandisa was suspicious of this new explanation. She had seemed perfectly sober a minute ago.
Anger - and perhaps the lingering affect of the wine she had consumed only a few hours earlier - made Mandisa bold, and she took on a tone that she would not normally direct at one of her older and more assertive sisters. This intruder seems to know you Chione, and she claims to know me, yet I have never once seen her before, in this house or anywhere else!" Her voice grew louder and she became more frenzied. "Yet she saw fit to climb in bed beside me and whisper in my ear like a lover! Perhaps you should explain what exactly is going on!" She pressed her hand against her face for a moment, trying to quiet the throb in her temples that her near-shouting had brought on. She turned her back on them and tried to take deep breaths.
Chione gave her sister an exasperated look as she cried that she couldn’t possibly know what was going on. Perhaps there was some confusion, but clearly she knew more than Chione did just barely walking into the room. But now was not the time to scold her and stoke her temper. She needed to somehow get Ana out of this unscathed and without either of them being stoned to death for their deviance.
Fortunately, a now clothed Ana threw herself before Chione. Her gaze narrowed, both to play the part of angered noblewoman, as well as trying to guess at what angle was their best escape route. Her heart began to pound as her lover silently mouthed a plea to be struck. A part of her knew that if she acted the outraged mistress, this could be quickly resolved, but a larger part couldn’t imagine striking the woman she held so dear. A voice in the back of her mind questioned if doing so would just make her another Akhenaten. She couldn’t quite stomach that comparison.
Yet as her sister spoke - well, shouted more like - Chione realized that she had no choice. Especially as she revealed Ana’s crime. “You stupid girl!” Chione shouted, hand flying to slap the Greek across the face. She reached forward to grip Ana’s chin, forcing her to look at her. “If you cannot control yourself, you will no longer be allowed to indulge. Do not think you’re getting off easy for this. You will face yet more punishment until these heathen ways of yours no longer exist.” Her words were clipped and harsh. She released her hold on the pale woman in a harsh enough manner to send her fully prone upon the floor.
Then, despite the ache she felt deep within that despised everything about this exchange, she stepped over the petite Greek as if she was nothing more than discarded garbage.
“My deepest apologies, sister,” she said, her tone warm but also exhausted. “I took this wretch in after she was discarded to be my handmaiden. Yet these Greeks seem to be the strangest creatures. Who can even understand their whims?” She stepped closer to her sister, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. “She was thrown out on the streets by her lover. Sometimes she tends to forget that detail though, desperate to believe she was ever more than just some temporary plaything. Pathetic, right?” Her eyes glanced to Ana, cold in their pale depths. “I took pity upon her, but she pushes the limits of my charity with her misdeeds. Never anything half as severe as this though.” She gave a heavy sigh. “I assure you, she’ll never make such a foolish mistake again by the time I’m done with her.”
Inwardly, she winced at every word she spoke, but she was careful to not let her face betray anything. Surely Ana would understand... Mandisa had to believe her, or else they were fucked - and not in the way they so frequently and thoroughly enjoyed.
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Chione gave her sister an exasperated look as she cried that she couldn’t possibly know what was going on. Perhaps there was some confusion, but clearly she knew more than Chione did just barely walking into the room. But now was not the time to scold her and stoke her temper. She needed to somehow get Ana out of this unscathed and without either of them being stoned to death for their deviance.
Fortunately, a now clothed Ana threw herself before Chione. Her gaze narrowed, both to play the part of angered noblewoman, as well as trying to guess at what angle was their best escape route. Her heart began to pound as her lover silently mouthed a plea to be struck. A part of her knew that if she acted the outraged mistress, this could be quickly resolved, but a larger part couldn’t imagine striking the woman she held so dear. A voice in the back of her mind questioned if doing so would just make her another Akhenaten. She couldn’t quite stomach that comparison.
Yet as her sister spoke - well, shouted more like - Chione realized that she had no choice. Especially as she revealed Ana’s crime. “You stupid girl!” Chione shouted, hand flying to slap the Greek across the face. She reached forward to grip Ana’s chin, forcing her to look at her. “If you cannot control yourself, you will no longer be allowed to indulge. Do not think you’re getting off easy for this. You will face yet more punishment until these heathen ways of yours no longer exist.” Her words were clipped and harsh. She released her hold on the pale woman in a harsh enough manner to send her fully prone upon the floor.
Then, despite the ache she felt deep within that despised everything about this exchange, she stepped over the petite Greek as if she was nothing more than discarded garbage.
“My deepest apologies, sister,” she said, her tone warm but also exhausted. “I took this wretch in after she was discarded to be my handmaiden. Yet these Greeks seem to be the strangest creatures. Who can even understand their whims?” She stepped closer to her sister, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. “She was thrown out on the streets by her lover. Sometimes she tends to forget that detail though, desperate to believe she was ever more than just some temporary plaything. Pathetic, right?” Her eyes glanced to Ana, cold in their pale depths. “I took pity upon her, but she pushes the limits of my charity with her misdeeds. Never anything half as severe as this though.” She gave a heavy sigh. “I assure you, she’ll never make such a foolish mistake again by the time I’m done with her.”
Inwardly, she winced at every word she spoke, but she was careful to not let her face betray anything. Surely Ana would understand... Mandisa had to believe her, or else they were fucked - and not in the way they so frequently and thoroughly enjoyed.
Chione gave her sister an exasperated look as she cried that she couldn’t possibly know what was going on. Perhaps there was some confusion, but clearly she knew more than Chione did just barely walking into the room. But now was not the time to scold her and stoke her temper. She needed to somehow get Ana out of this unscathed and without either of them being stoned to death for their deviance.
Fortunately, a now clothed Ana threw herself before Chione. Her gaze narrowed, both to play the part of angered noblewoman, as well as trying to guess at what angle was their best escape route. Her heart began to pound as her lover silently mouthed a plea to be struck. A part of her knew that if she acted the outraged mistress, this could be quickly resolved, but a larger part couldn’t imagine striking the woman she held so dear. A voice in the back of her mind questioned if doing so would just make her another Akhenaten. She couldn’t quite stomach that comparison.
Yet as her sister spoke - well, shouted more like - Chione realized that she had no choice. Especially as she revealed Ana’s crime. “You stupid girl!” Chione shouted, hand flying to slap the Greek across the face. She reached forward to grip Ana’s chin, forcing her to look at her. “If you cannot control yourself, you will no longer be allowed to indulge. Do not think you’re getting off easy for this. You will face yet more punishment until these heathen ways of yours no longer exist.” Her words were clipped and harsh. She released her hold on the pale woman in a harsh enough manner to send her fully prone upon the floor.
Then, despite the ache she felt deep within that despised everything about this exchange, she stepped over the petite Greek as if she was nothing more than discarded garbage.
“My deepest apologies, sister,” she said, her tone warm but also exhausted. “I took this wretch in after she was discarded to be my handmaiden. Yet these Greeks seem to be the strangest creatures. Who can even understand their whims?” She stepped closer to her sister, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. “She was thrown out on the streets by her lover. Sometimes she tends to forget that detail though, desperate to believe she was ever more than just some temporary plaything. Pathetic, right?” Her eyes glanced to Ana, cold in their pale depths. “I took pity upon her, but she pushes the limits of my charity with her misdeeds. Never anything half as severe as this though.” She gave a heavy sigh. “I assure you, she’ll never make such a foolish mistake again by the time I’m done with her.”
Inwardly, she winced at every word she spoke, but she was careful to not let her face betray anything. Surely Ana would understand... Mandisa had to believe her, or else they were fucked - and not in the way they so frequently and thoroughly enjoyed.
Tension was thick in the room as Mandisa failed to fall into her little ploy right away. Her plan, unspoken but expressed, was the only way forward for them. Whether or not Mandisa could be trusted with their secret was not a question for the bard to ask. No, she left such notions for Chione to consider and it seemed abundantly clear what the conclusion was.
"You stupid girl!"
Thwack.
Anastasia needed to act surprised, shocked at the 'sudden' strike to her face. Beseeching her false mistress only to feel the burn of her handprint against her cheek. Anastasia felt the sting of tears against her eyes as, like a marionette with its strings cut, she collapsed to the floor. The heaving of her shoulders showed better than her face, draped by the curtain of her hair, the tears that continued to flow down her cheeks.
That was per--
It might've sufficed, that. On its own, the strike could've proven just how disconnected Chione was from her little plebian mistress. Carefully woven lies might've been assured, with little wound but the physical one on her flesh. But, then...
"Don't think you're getting off easy for this."
Anastasia felt the curl of wretched fear in her chest, even as she knew the lie for what it was. The woman's threats were followed with short, hiccupping sobs. The harshness in Chione's tone overwhelmed the woman, and she did her utmost to whirl herself through the annals of time, when the woman's words were so much gentler.
“What do you need? What can I do?”
Anastasia felt the burn of Chione's strike where her hands had once caressed her face.
"This is all my fault... he hurt you because of me..."
Just as Ana knelt now, Chione had fallen to her knees in front of her. Tears streaked along her cheeks, her cheek puffing out just enough to make it obvious that she'd been struck.
The ghost of Akhenaten's fingers on her throat brought the same burn she felt now.
"Tell me how to sooth your spirit..."
She clung to those words, spoken to her so soon into their... it was a dalliance at the time. And yet, it'd turned into so much more than simply that. The necessity of this deception was what stung the most, the need to suggest that Chione strike her, simply to protect their...
What is this?
Was it a romance? Did Chione feel the same, heart-wrenching agony as she in this moment? If she did, the woman was a hell of an actress. For, even as she ceased to address Anastasia, the contempt in her words was palpable. The false servant inched closer, keeping her gaze from rising to meet the Egyptians'. Chione apologized, then called her a wretch and insulted her country. Necessary insults again and again, but each was a wound in the face of just how much in this moment she missed her mother Greece.
"She was thrown out on the streets by her lover."
Did Chione project something there? Were her lies some sort of allusion to a deeply held desire? Anastasia didn't ever look up at the woman, instead, she let repeated murmurs, slurred in style, part her lips.
"I'm sorry, mistress."
"Have mercy, my lady..."
So deeply entrenched in her lament, Anastasia wanted nothing more than to vanish, her foolishness and dreadful memory truly driving a knife into her chest.
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Tension was thick in the room as Mandisa failed to fall into her little ploy right away. Her plan, unspoken but expressed, was the only way forward for them. Whether or not Mandisa could be trusted with their secret was not a question for the bard to ask. No, she left such notions for Chione to consider and it seemed abundantly clear what the conclusion was.
"You stupid girl!"
Thwack.
Anastasia needed to act surprised, shocked at the 'sudden' strike to her face. Beseeching her false mistress only to feel the burn of her handprint against her cheek. Anastasia felt the sting of tears against her eyes as, like a marionette with its strings cut, she collapsed to the floor. The heaving of her shoulders showed better than her face, draped by the curtain of her hair, the tears that continued to flow down her cheeks.
That was per--
It might've sufficed, that. On its own, the strike could've proven just how disconnected Chione was from her little plebian mistress. Carefully woven lies might've been assured, with little wound but the physical one on her flesh. But, then...
"Don't think you're getting off easy for this."
Anastasia felt the curl of wretched fear in her chest, even as she knew the lie for what it was. The woman's threats were followed with short, hiccupping sobs. The harshness in Chione's tone overwhelmed the woman, and she did her utmost to whirl herself through the annals of time, when the woman's words were so much gentler.
“What do you need? What can I do?”
Anastasia felt the burn of Chione's strike where her hands had once caressed her face.
"This is all my fault... he hurt you because of me..."
Just as Ana knelt now, Chione had fallen to her knees in front of her. Tears streaked along her cheeks, her cheek puffing out just enough to make it obvious that she'd been struck.
The ghost of Akhenaten's fingers on her throat brought the same burn she felt now.
"Tell me how to sooth your spirit..."
She clung to those words, spoken to her so soon into their... it was a dalliance at the time. And yet, it'd turned into so much more than simply that. The necessity of this deception was what stung the most, the need to suggest that Chione strike her, simply to protect their...
What is this?
Was it a romance? Did Chione feel the same, heart-wrenching agony as she in this moment? If she did, the woman was a hell of an actress. For, even as she ceased to address Anastasia, the contempt in her words was palpable. The false servant inched closer, keeping her gaze from rising to meet the Egyptians'. Chione apologized, then called her a wretch and insulted her country. Necessary insults again and again, but each was a wound in the face of just how much in this moment she missed her mother Greece.
"She was thrown out on the streets by her lover."
Did Chione project something there? Were her lies some sort of allusion to a deeply held desire? Anastasia didn't ever look up at the woman, instead, she let repeated murmurs, slurred in style, part her lips.
"I'm sorry, mistress."
"Have mercy, my lady..."
So deeply entrenched in her lament, Anastasia wanted nothing more than to vanish, her foolishness and dreadful memory truly driving a knife into her chest.
Tension was thick in the room as Mandisa failed to fall into her little ploy right away. Her plan, unspoken but expressed, was the only way forward for them. Whether or not Mandisa could be trusted with their secret was not a question for the bard to ask. No, she left such notions for Chione to consider and it seemed abundantly clear what the conclusion was.
"You stupid girl!"
Thwack.
Anastasia needed to act surprised, shocked at the 'sudden' strike to her face. Beseeching her false mistress only to feel the burn of her handprint against her cheek. Anastasia felt the sting of tears against her eyes as, like a marionette with its strings cut, she collapsed to the floor. The heaving of her shoulders showed better than her face, draped by the curtain of her hair, the tears that continued to flow down her cheeks.
That was per--
It might've sufficed, that. On its own, the strike could've proven just how disconnected Chione was from her little plebian mistress. Carefully woven lies might've been assured, with little wound but the physical one on her flesh. But, then...
"Don't think you're getting off easy for this."
Anastasia felt the curl of wretched fear in her chest, even as she knew the lie for what it was. The woman's threats were followed with short, hiccupping sobs. The harshness in Chione's tone overwhelmed the woman, and she did her utmost to whirl herself through the annals of time, when the woman's words were so much gentler.
“What do you need? What can I do?”
Anastasia felt the burn of Chione's strike where her hands had once caressed her face.
"This is all my fault... he hurt you because of me..."
Just as Ana knelt now, Chione had fallen to her knees in front of her. Tears streaked along her cheeks, her cheek puffing out just enough to make it obvious that she'd been struck.
The ghost of Akhenaten's fingers on her throat brought the same burn she felt now.
"Tell me how to sooth your spirit..."
She clung to those words, spoken to her so soon into their... it was a dalliance at the time. And yet, it'd turned into so much more than simply that. The necessity of this deception was what stung the most, the need to suggest that Chione strike her, simply to protect their...
What is this?
Was it a romance? Did Chione feel the same, heart-wrenching agony as she in this moment? If she did, the woman was a hell of an actress. For, even as she ceased to address Anastasia, the contempt in her words was palpable. The false servant inched closer, keeping her gaze from rising to meet the Egyptians'. Chione apologized, then called her a wretch and insulted her country. Necessary insults again and again, but each was a wound in the face of just how much in this moment she missed her mother Greece.
"She was thrown out on the streets by her lover."
Did Chione project something there? Were her lies some sort of allusion to a deeply held desire? Anastasia didn't ever look up at the woman, instead, she let repeated murmurs, slurred in style, part her lips.
"I'm sorry, mistress."
"Have mercy, my lady..."
So deeply entrenched in her lament, Anastasia wanted nothing more than to vanish, her foolishness and dreadful memory truly driving a knife into her chest.
With her back still turned, Mandisa listened as her sister berated the woman, Ana. As her pounding heart began to slow, Mandisa wondered if she had overreacted. Then, the sound of a harsh slap caused her to spin on her heels. Chione had struck the woman. She was used to her sister's domineering nature, but the way she clutched Ana's chin and spat words at her bordered on cruelty that she had not previously seen in Chione.
Mandisa gawped as Ana fell to the ground sobbing. She was not squeamish when it came to correcting or punishing her underlings, but seeing another woman in such a pathetic state almost made her feel sorry. Chione did, however, seem to confirm that the woman was sexually deviant, and Mandisa folded her arms over her chest instinctively, her compassion promptly dissipating.
Chione came to her and offered the explanation that Mandisa had been searching for. She firstly presented an apology, reassuring Mandisa that her reaction had not been over-the-top. “She was thrown out on the streets by her lover. Sometimes she tends to forget that detail though, desperate to believe she was ever more than just some temporary plaything." She stared at her sister as she spoke, with her lips slightly parted and her eyes narrowed. "I see..." she replied tentatively. Despite the tense competitiveness that coloured Mandisa's view of their sisterly relationship, Chione had never led her astray in the past. She was inclined to accept the story.
Ana continued to cry quietly as the sister's spoke, seeming to crumple more with each word. Mandisa gazed at her coldly, raising her head high. She refused to appear shaken by the actions of some discarded servant girl. She cursed herself for not handling the situation with more dignity. She felt a pang of shame, and could not prevent herself from feeling that she was a poor excuse for a noblewoman. How could such things come so easily to her sisters, but elude her completely?
Her attention was no longer on the servant, and she barely acknowledged her as she croaked for mercy. Rubbing her temples, she said "Chione, just get her out of my sight." She ambled back towards her bedraggled bed, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. She glanced back at the pair and added "I don't want to see her in this house again, do you understand me?" She climbed back under the covers and turned her back on them once more. She barely felt angry, her exhaustion outweighed her indignation.
While it seemed that all had been resolved, Mandisa could not rid herself of the feeling that something was amiss. For one thing, she had to wonder what about the woman enticed her sister to take in such an obviously insolent servant. Why had she been permitted to indulge so gratuitously? These were questions that Mandisa would have to quiet for the moment. She lay still, and waited for the sound of footsteps leaving the room.
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Check out their information page here.
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With her back still turned, Mandisa listened as her sister berated the woman, Ana. As her pounding heart began to slow, Mandisa wondered if she had overreacted. Then, the sound of a harsh slap caused her to spin on her heels. Chione had struck the woman. She was used to her sister's domineering nature, but the way she clutched Ana's chin and spat words at her bordered on cruelty that she had not previously seen in Chione.
Mandisa gawped as Ana fell to the ground sobbing. She was not squeamish when it came to correcting or punishing her underlings, but seeing another woman in such a pathetic state almost made her feel sorry. Chione did, however, seem to confirm that the woman was sexually deviant, and Mandisa folded her arms over her chest instinctively, her compassion promptly dissipating.
Chione came to her and offered the explanation that Mandisa had been searching for. She firstly presented an apology, reassuring Mandisa that her reaction had not been over-the-top. “She was thrown out on the streets by her lover. Sometimes she tends to forget that detail though, desperate to believe she was ever more than just some temporary plaything." She stared at her sister as she spoke, with her lips slightly parted and her eyes narrowed. "I see..." she replied tentatively. Despite the tense competitiveness that coloured Mandisa's view of their sisterly relationship, Chione had never led her astray in the past. She was inclined to accept the story.
Ana continued to cry quietly as the sister's spoke, seeming to crumple more with each word. Mandisa gazed at her coldly, raising her head high. She refused to appear shaken by the actions of some discarded servant girl. She cursed herself for not handling the situation with more dignity. She felt a pang of shame, and could not prevent herself from feeling that she was a poor excuse for a noblewoman. How could such things come so easily to her sisters, but elude her completely?
Her attention was no longer on the servant, and she barely acknowledged her as she croaked for mercy. Rubbing her temples, she said "Chione, just get her out of my sight." She ambled back towards her bedraggled bed, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. She glanced back at the pair and added "I don't want to see her in this house again, do you understand me?" She climbed back under the covers and turned her back on them once more. She barely felt angry, her exhaustion outweighed her indignation.
While it seemed that all had been resolved, Mandisa could not rid herself of the feeling that something was amiss. For one thing, she had to wonder what about the woman enticed her sister to take in such an obviously insolent servant. Why had she been permitted to indulge so gratuitously? These were questions that Mandisa would have to quiet for the moment. She lay still, and waited for the sound of footsteps leaving the room.
With her back still turned, Mandisa listened as her sister berated the woman, Ana. As her pounding heart began to slow, Mandisa wondered if she had overreacted. Then, the sound of a harsh slap caused her to spin on her heels. Chione had struck the woman. She was used to her sister's domineering nature, but the way she clutched Ana's chin and spat words at her bordered on cruelty that she had not previously seen in Chione.
Mandisa gawped as Ana fell to the ground sobbing. She was not squeamish when it came to correcting or punishing her underlings, but seeing another woman in such a pathetic state almost made her feel sorry. Chione did, however, seem to confirm that the woman was sexually deviant, and Mandisa folded her arms over her chest instinctively, her compassion promptly dissipating.
Chione came to her and offered the explanation that Mandisa had been searching for. She firstly presented an apology, reassuring Mandisa that her reaction had not been over-the-top. “She was thrown out on the streets by her lover. Sometimes she tends to forget that detail though, desperate to believe she was ever more than just some temporary plaything." She stared at her sister as she spoke, with her lips slightly parted and her eyes narrowed. "I see..." she replied tentatively. Despite the tense competitiveness that coloured Mandisa's view of their sisterly relationship, Chione had never led her astray in the past. She was inclined to accept the story.
Ana continued to cry quietly as the sister's spoke, seeming to crumple more with each word. Mandisa gazed at her coldly, raising her head high. She refused to appear shaken by the actions of some discarded servant girl. She cursed herself for not handling the situation with more dignity. She felt a pang of shame, and could not prevent herself from feeling that she was a poor excuse for a noblewoman. How could such things come so easily to her sisters, but elude her completely?
Her attention was no longer on the servant, and she barely acknowledged her as she croaked for mercy. Rubbing her temples, she said "Chione, just get her out of my sight." She ambled back towards her bedraggled bed, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. She glanced back at the pair and added "I don't want to see her in this house again, do you understand me?" She climbed back under the covers and turned her back on them once more. She barely felt angry, her exhaustion outweighed her indignation.
While it seemed that all had been resolved, Mandisa could not rid herself of the feeling that something was amiss. For one thing, she had to wonder what about the woman enticed her sister to take in such an obviously insolent servant. Why had she been permitted to indulge so gratuitously? These were questions that Mandisa would have to quiet for the moment. She lay still, and waited for the sound of footsteps leaving the room.
