Thread: My shitty friends and their stupid psychic parties (SomethingEsoteric, YellowSmoke

My shitty friends and their stupid psychic parties SomethingEsoteric, YellowSmoke Buoyed by the pleasant upturn in conversation and the lively mood now imparted upon her companion, Treya consented and - after a long, slow gulp wherein her lips embraced her glass with a subtle sensuality, her throat undulating elegantly to swallow the chilled liquid - she slid off her chair and walked with Brooke towards the door. The freckled woman's honesty was refreshing, even rewarding on some level, and the light played on her lenses in a way that caught Maitreya's eye. She certainly was a beauty her oval face was sleek and sensual, her plush lips looked so soft that they begged to be kissed, and her well-defined eyebrows drew one into her gaze. Looking up at her - for at 5'7, Maitreya was a few inches shorter than Brooklyn - the card-reader wondered how someone could bring themselves to break the heart of such a belle... but then again, had she not been the one who had given premonition of a repeat in that matter? I'm glad that you're warming up to me, she intimated as they made their way across the bare wood floor, her eyes lingering upon the woman's face for a moment longer. Not everyone is able - or willing, I guess - to look past the silks and cards. I have to make a living somehow and I'm good at what I do, though if anyone has reason to doubt that, it's you. There was a hint of ruefulness in her admission, or at the very least an acknowledgement that she had over-stepped a line tonight. Usually , people find my work helpful, and it can be very rewarding to know that you've brought some pleasure to another's life... Queen of Mystique, and Queen of Pleasure yes, that had a nice ring to it, and she had brought pleasure to many in her short lifetime, using her intuition and her nimble tongue in one way or another. From her inner reflections, her mind drew a line between idle thoughts and scintillating images, and again she glanced at Brooklyn, this time picturing her face contorted in the throes of sexual gratification. She longed to feel the caress of her inner thighs upon her cheeks, to become intoxicated upon the scent of her loins, and most of all to feel the damaged, defensive walls about her heart crumble in the warmth of her embrace. Ever the chameleon, Maitreya could and gladly would play whatever role she deemed necessary, between the sheets or outside of them, but from her own perspective it was all a display of her control over the world and others. Even in submission she was directing the course of action upon the myriad stages which she blessed, and the passing of dominance to another was only ever an insidious rouse designed for distraction and subtle manipulation. Outside, the air had grown a mite colder still, but Treya was all roses and warmth in the way she smiled at Brooklyn, ignorant to the covetous gaze cast over the pair by a young woman in black with dyed green hair who clung to the frame of the door, leaning out into the night to exhale before cowering in the vestiges of warmth about the open doorway, clutching a half-smoked cigarette between two stubby fingers. In her ignorance, she presumed that the pair were an item, and though they made for an adorable couple, the stranger felt no warmth at their appearance. The colour of hair was reflected in envious emotions cast equally upon the pair, and partly in despair and partly in disgust, she tossed the remainder of her smoke upon the path and left it burning, returning to the bar's interior to trade one vice for another. The light of the bar's neon sign overhead lent a purplish glow to Maitreya's sable tresses, a colour equally befitting both her mysterious nature and regal elegance. Her easy gaze betrayed an almost schoolgirlish fascination with the woman she faced, reminiscent of the way ambitious college girls would often look upon Brooklyn - or any older woman who patronised JJs - whenever they came in hope of an edifying sexual experience with one more experienced than they. Of course, Treya was no schoolgirl she possessed the shrewd and assured confidence of a woman who had seen it all and had wisdom and comfort to impart in equal measure. She knew what she wanted, and unlike those artless youths, she knew how to get it. You should smile more often, she told Brooke suddenly, with a glimmer in her eyes that suggested the comment was not so much spontaneous as it was the conclusion of thorough reflection. Don't get me wrong anger is always sexier than it should be, but you have a beautiful smile. I'm glad I was able to bring it out in you.