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A Drop in the Pond. [M]

Started by Draconian, January 28, 2016, 11:09:55 AM

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Draconian

[ lol. Hi Juras. ]

Grace took careful steps forward, licking her lips when she saw the apples.

It had been a rare treat at home, apples. She lived on the otherside of the country and when she'd been taken to the mage camp they'd been gone completely. Uninvited, Grace took a few steps closer, looking at the apples.

"Could I have one?" She asked quietly, her hunger making her far more bold than she'd be normally.

DaGlobster

[WOWWWW THE DERP XP]

"Please do," Motark said, and he motioned towards the bowl. There was also a clay jug sitting next to it.

"Take whatever you please. There's water in the jug."

Draconian

Grace ate ravenously.

The apples were crisp and she ate two before she even started to try and drink the water.

Despite having not eaten for a day though she could only stomach a few apples before she started to feel sick, sitting down and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Those had been the most delicious apples she'd ever eaten.

Another hesitant look to Motark and she leaned closer, giving him a curious look. The heat from the fire had cooled down and she was disappointed to feel the coldness set back in. A state of being.

Before, when she was at home, she was usually in front of a kiln. Melting metals to craft jewelry. It wasn't world famous but it was famous in her little town and she'd known a few nobles wore things she'd made. Another look down at her fingers and she rubbed her finger tips together.

"Thank you," She said simply after finishing.

Now what?

"You're..." Grace looked at him for a moment before flicking her gaze downwards, "You're far kinder than I would have expected."

DaGlobster

"One could say I was born into the wrong bloodline," Motark said, and he ate a peach.

"My tribe thrives on savagery, but I hate the needless violence. If they knew, though, I wouldn't be chief for long."

Motark sighed.

"I'm trying to change things, but... change takes time."

Draconian

Grace rubbed at her arms, chewing on her lip before she moved closer.

It was alright to comfort someone who didn't want her as much as she didn't want to be wanted... Right?

Her hand pressed against his forearm as a sign of comfort but the heat that pulsed up her arm had her eyes close and she made a pleased little humming sound. It wasn't a fire. It was more and she'd forgotten about the comfort she was trying to offer and instead reached out with her other hand to press it to his arm.

"You're so warm," She stated. No doubt her own hands were warm, far warmer than any humans would be.

The comfort was forgotten and she simply stood there with her eyes closed, hands on his arm to soak up the heat.

DaGlobster

Grace pulled a move that surprised even Motark, and he could only watch as she put both her hands on his arm. He got the intent to comfort of the first one, but after a while, she just seemed to be...

... soaking up his heat?

"You're cold?" he rebutted.

Draconian

Eyes still closed, palms still flat on his arm and she nodded.

"Always. I'm not warm unless I'm right in front of a fire."  Or in a fire.

Though quickly enough her eyes snapped open and she pulled her hands away from his arm like he'd burned her - an impossibility.  "A downside to my magic. I'm... Always very cold." She snuck her hands back into the fur and held it tight around her shoulders, staring down at the ground, cheeks heated.

DaGlobster

"And what is your magic?" Motark asked.

"Is it the ability to control fire?"

Draconian

Grace looked to the fire pit and nodded solemnly.

When put that way it seemed much less impressive.

"I was... I made jewelry. Being able to control fire and handle hot things made it easy." She tried to smile at the memory, rubbed her fingertips together to remember. The sketches of the designs.

"I can't create it. But if it's there I can use it." A thoughtful look at the fire, "I've never tried to control it, I guess..." She remembered the flare of temper, "It's just part of who I am. So I never gave it much thought. Sort of... You're just big. Which means you're probably strong. I'm me... So... Fire is mine."

It made sense to her.

DaGlobster

"An impressive skill, nonetheless. To be able to pass through flame completely unscathed..."

Motark looked about, and rubbed his bald head.

"I'm sorry that you ended up here, but I'll try and make your stay as comfortable as possible."

Draconian

Again she stared down at her fingertips, lower lip caught in her mouth. The surprised gasp on her lips when she looked up at him. Grace stared, eyes wide up at the Orc.

Then down at herself.

Grace gave her toes a wiggle and pulled the furs tighter around.

"Do I have to stay naked?"

DaGlobster

"No, I will arrange for clothing. You will also be staying here, in my tent."

He looked at her, all wrapped up in furs.

Draconian

Grace swallowed thickly and looked around.

If she was to stay here... Looking around she shifted her weight and stared down at the ground.

"Thank you," she whispered, surprised to find kindness. Her hands were pressed to he chest, "how can I ever thank you?"

DaGlobster

Motark smiled for a brief moment, but hi face levelled out again shortly afterwards.

"Just keep my kindness quiet. And if anybody asks, I used you, understand?"

Draconian

Grace looked around.

"Used me?"

Confusion clouds her features and she gnawed on her lip. "Used me for what?"

DaGlobster

Motark sighed.

"Use you as in... sexually."

Draconian

Grace looked him up and down, eyeing him. Taking in the image of the large man. The words that fell out of her mouth weren't thought of and she pressed a had to her stomach.

"How?"

DaGlobster

"Don't ask how, just... give that answer if anybody asks," Motark said.

"It's why you were brought to me. When they gave you to me as a gift, your purity was the real prize."

Draconian

Grace went white. A few shades lighter than white and she gave a cautious swallow before she squeezed her eyes shut. Grace didn't even want to imagine any of that, though that didn't stop her from doing it. Her hands pressed to her stomach and she let out a quiet breath.

"What would happen if I said you didn't use me? Would I be given back?"

DaGlobster

"No," Motark said, and he gave her a soft look.

"I would be called weak. Usurpers will challenge my power."

Motark picked up another peach.

"If one of them succeeds, you'll find yourself in much crueler hands.

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