#earthrunes

"Tis better to write in the concrete while it's soft, otherwise, far more difficult."

Scrubbing up her arm, and back down across the shoulders. His strokes firm and soothing like a good massage.

"Aye well," A light blush, "I hope to see if my boyfriend might be interested in a ..third sometime. We've done it before you see. And he was fine with that or so it seemed. So... I figure this time, number three..well, might be a he. If I can convince him to try it, would you be interested in.. ah.. well.. that is to say" blush deepens.

"Bad time to leave a girl hanging, Vince. Just saying" Low mutter

(Missed that update! One sec)

"Your boyfriend, Hmmm, the one with good taste in both ladies and morphology. Twould be the soul of rudeness to turn down another cat, especially if he treats you like his Queen. Is this part of your Fiona curriculum?"

Carefully rinsing some gunk from her hair, a hand cradeled to protect it from splashing her eyes.

"No. I am not under orders to do so, Sir Bachdion and the Baroness both have offered to teach, but respect my choices to forego... so I forego it as a lesson, but have decided to see if my boyfriend with go for it as an interest. If you see the difference? " A bite of her bottom lip as he works her hair clean and somehow makes it feel really good..."That's nice. Anyway, I.. like how you treat women. You're a shameless flirt to be sure, but I have been too, and you treat every woman like she was... precious just to be with. I think you would be...understanding of my needs."

He carefully runs hands through her hair, incorporating a touch of scalp massage. "As long as we're both clear that this is a requirement for your classes, aye, and not something you sought of your own accord as a free agent. I only share my time with those who are under orders to do so, real or imagined. Ooh, speaking of Agents... Have you ever considered a black catsuit? Because while I'd hate to see you go, I'd love to watch you 'Roamin' Off'" He grins, with a bad pun on the Black Widow's last name.

A soft lazy laugh "Oh Vince. We like dressing up at superheroes at Rivervale. In point of fact, I do have a few... though I think Sylvi might have gotten the widow outfit. Tell you what, I'll talk to Vasht, and maybe see about dying my hair red temporarly. Can't promise a good russian accent"

"Oh, pooh. I positively loathe redheads."

"Would explain why the baroness had you put in stocks last week" Amused her eyes closed

Vince is a perfect gent, so does not take advantage when it seems those wash cloths might drift

He laughs, and leans in, murmuring a few hints about exactly what sort of felonious activities might have caused that particular punishment. And will help make sure that she's as clean as she'll let him get her! Even if he has to skip from neck down to a massage of her delicate blue toes, leaving the in-between for another time, perhaps...

But Siv stretches and enjoys and.. the bath is most relaxing indeed. She does giggle and threaten to kick if the toes are touched wrong.

A note Vince can store away for.. later.

(End Scene)

In Zara's room, a painting awaits... one that depicts various trolls who seem absurdly small, but with wings... taking flight while Zara in a classic Wicked Witch outfit spreads out her hands as if sending them forth. A note nearby it says Zara, corrupting trolls by showing them new heights. Amazing, my hind, my heart-Your Hunter.

Zara rubs her hands together, in a truly villainous fashion. "Yes, fly my pretties... drink tea!"

Ah, if Earl could see her now, why she might get ravished.

Hm.

It might be a good time for a ravishment.

Mmm... interesting, there is a thread from the note to... what's this? to the bathroom?

A crooked little smile, and off she goes.

Candles floating in the water are the only light source, and the candles are small and on chimerical lilies. The tub is larger than she remembers it being. She was gone for a time, perhaps the expanded it on a whim, perhaps a certain troll pulled strings. A clawfoot Tub troll sized with sinister visage! And yes, if a troll can fit, a troll and she can certainly fit.

A soft whisper of fabric on skin, as her dress puddles on the floor. "My Hunter."

"...thou art hunted..."

"Then fortunate among I , among all predators turned prey" He is nude under the water, of course, and she finds it delightful that his skin has been there long enough that it has begun to wrinkle. As if he were a mix of her slender youthful love, and yet wizening.

And he motions, offering a hand with wrinkled finger tips beckoning to her

A soft ripple as she joins him in the water, bare skin meeting bare skin.

And he kisses her as she slides upon him and shares the water, "Liked you my painting?"

She answers, but not with words.

(Apparently, the answer is "very much.")

Indeed, wet hands on wet skin and a most pleasant immersion amid floating flowers and candles flickering oh so softly. The River goddess claims her artist who came too close to the banks, and he breathes her in worshipfully.

(Fade to wet)