#scarsdale

"And?"

"And I am not interested in intimacy with another. But it is a treasure I sensed, aye?"

He shrugs. "You don't think all this...." He stretches, showing off. "... could be natural?" Another grin.

"I think it very well could be, aye. You are quite handsome."

"Thanks." He regards her critically, shrugs. "Like I said, some sluagh got it goin' on, if you're into it." A grin. "I am."

"I will take that in good spirits, sir. Though, again, I am not interested in such a pursuit." Formality is a shield, but she still blushes.

"Awwww...." A satisfied sound.

Then a lightbulb goes off in his eyes, growing wide. "Woah. Oh man, I get it. Nice kink. You're not into the bod, figure you got your partner, whatever, but... you -are- into the mojo. Right?"

Her cheeks burn. "No!"

"No?" Delighted, tail flipping and threatening the set of his waistband. "No? Seriously? You telling me you -don't- want to ...... uh. Know more about whatever you sense, like you said?"

"I may be curious about the magic, but no, I do not wish to 'know' that!"

" KNOW what?" Grinning.

She stammers, pink.

"N-naught."

"You don't wanna .... see it?" His fingers drift down the happy trail and dangle.

Her eyes widen, horrified, and she vehemently shakes her head.

He frowns, puzzled; baffled, even. "You're into mojo." He says, unsure. "You are. You dig magic an' stuff."

"You think I got some on me. Somethin', anyway. Strong Glamour, you said." He grins. "You said I was mysterious, too."

"Y-you do, aye."

"An' you don't want to know more?" Very skeptical.

"Who gave you that treasure?"

"Aw, Zara, I earned it." With a wink.

She hasn't stopped blushing, and her spidery fingers are twisted in a knot. "A reward, then? For service?"

"Yeeeeeeah....." Lazy and satisfied.

"Who made it?"

He shrugs. "Not usually so good with names, you know? Not unless it's worth remembering, and this was one of those 'leave the money on the counter' things."

"So the maker.. the artist, aye.. but you said it was a reward. Who paid for the ink?"

He grins, squatting in front of her closer. "Quid pro quo, Clarice?"

She wavers, dark eyes flickering with curiosity. "....Aye?"

"Yeah. How come you don't want me around?"

"I wish to protect my family."

"From a gardner?" Baffled.

"From above the gardner."

Said gardner looks up into the drizzling sky.

"Your turn. Quid pro quo."

"That's no kind of answer, what, you want to protect them from the sky?"

A fluttering between the drizzle, a moth

"You asked two questions. I wish to protect my family was my answer, nu? No. Who arranged for your reward, for the treasure embedded in your skin?"

He catches his tongue between his teeth, holds it, then shrugs and says "Tattoo artist in Tijuana."

"Not my question." She narrows her eyes. "Who set you up?"

the moth gets a bit closer, settling on a wall near Zara

"Lady I had really, really good sex with. I mean..... rough, but good. You know the kinda stuff you have to stretch after? This was a 'Ben Gay, done that.' kinda thing. She had kinks, let me tell you, and talk about an appetite... I mean, I wasn't the only one in on it, there was this whole train kinda thing going on; took a few days, to be honest. You name it; drugs, drinks, animals..... well, maybe they were pooka but you get drift, right? There was this pretty well-trained cow or llama or something, right? And he and I....."

At the mention of pooka, the moth spreads its wings in a flutter that almsot seems offended.

The satyr seems ready to, and will, continue his reminiscing....

Zara shrinks, scarlet.

The moth does mothy things, holding still mostly, then slow wing open and flap.

"... not bad as schlongs go, and I don't ever let myself feel outclassed, you know? There's such a thing as technique. So we were spit-roasting her, right, and ...."

Zara quietly shrinks.

".... she -screams- right in his ear, and I don't know what the hell, right, maybe he's skittish because of the ball-clamps and the way he was bangin' em around or maybe he was scared by a fire alarm when he was a kid, but he -REARS- up and you know that phrase 'tear you a new one'? Well...."

"...I.. I believe I have the picture of it, sir..."