Thread: The Scarlet Crossing (DeliciousLust & darjeeling)

Aurelia suddenly thought her question was worded poorly and that the monster might take offense. But it was too late to take it back and so she could only wait with her fingers curled tight and tense, her shoulders hunched in a similar manner. The redhead's temperament seemed to be shifting at every turn, from open curiosity to guilt and shame. She blamed the smoke addling her brain and that strange stuff the bakemono was billowing from her lips, though that was dangerous territory to dwell on. This entire territory was dangerous. She had half a mind to box Hunter about the ears but he seemed to be eager enough to pull her away from the platform. A meaner part of her stayed only to spite him though it was a small enough incentive to remain where she was. Every second which passed had Aurelia wonder and wonder some more, even if logic dictated that had she offended the monster girl, she would have been told off. The answer that came was somewhat expected, if not disappointing to Aurelia who needed more than just a simple response to sate her thirst. It was like giving a hungry man a bone to chew on. It was something but at the same time, it was nothing. The saying goes that beggars can't be choosers. Well, Aurelia was no beggar, or so she'd like to think. She shrugged slow as her own reply, the world about her of no concern. Her attention was on the bakemono alone. My hobby is to collect different candy wrappers. I do not think I will be pleasing anyone as another. The human girl shifted her weight from one leg to the other as she was once again appraised, feeling the need to yell at the men to stop their perverse actions. The bakemono wasn't even doing anything, but it appeared that it did not take much at all. Aurelia swept her hair over her shoulders and brushed her bangs from her eyes, not knowing what more to do with her hands as they fell awkwardly by her side. Having forgotten her recent boldness, she had found herself tongue-tied once more and the words would not come no matter how desperately she bade them to. Finally she ended up dropping them into the one large pocket located at the front of her jacket, clasping them together tightly out of sight. Her nails dug sharply into the other hand and palm, not yet drawing blood but they would definitely leave a mark. When the monster spoke once more, its words were Aurelia found herself shocked for what seemed to be the fourth time in the span of two hours. They were words that she had never heard said before, not out loud nor behind her back. My hair? Aurelia frowned, shocked as she was, she did not stutter. Her voice was surprisingly stable. People say that if your hair is likened to that of blood, then blood is all you will seek and find in your life. She lifted a hand to a stray lock of ruby-red, twirling it between two fingers and rubbing the strands softly. They are less subtle about my eyes, which they say they find... abnormal. Aurelia was at a loss then, the lump in her throat quickly growing so she had to blurt out. I wouldn't want to share-- Where that had come from, the redhead could not say but her mouth had clamped shut before the word was said, yet it was done. Her cheeks were afire as she shook her head slowly, now avoiding eye contact the best she could. What I mean to say is that... I don't think I'm suited to your... line of work. Back and forth, back and forth, her gaze darted about nervously. She was now well and truly sub-conscious about her eyes and even the men who had paid any sliver of attention to their conversation was now peering at her with their manhood out in full view. They had no shame. She had no shame. Out of all of them, it was ironic for Aurelia to think that the bakemono seemed to be the most composed and elegant of them all. Her smile gave the human the courage to lift her head again as the woman sat and bowed in a manner most familiar and the offering of a name served to make the redhead return the smile. With Mariko sitting the way she was, Aurelia could almost forget the fact that she had just seen her writhe like an exotic eel, moaning wantonly. It was easy enough to ignore the underwear wrapped about her thighs and the rumpled state of her clothing. She couldn't help but wonder how long Mariko expected to indulge these men and if more would show throughout the night though she was not bold enough. Still her form seemed to relax, comforted by some sense of normalcy as she allowed herself to lean forward though Aurelia was still careful not to touch the platform. God knows what had been there before. I'm Aurelia, she returned politely, racking her brain and trying to remember if there was a certain way to go about responding. In the end, she could come up with nothing and simply said, The honor is mine. Her gaze traced the outline of a tapered ear previously hidden and the tattoos near her breasts and painted upon her wrist. Aurelia could not read the characters but the dragons were very well done. She herself bore no tattoos on her own body, even if she thought about it more often than not. The only sign of rebellion she bore was her naval piercing, a silver studded star and one she had forgotten all too quickly after it had healed. It was barely worth mentioning, as were the thoughts surrounding it. Aurelia allowed herself this moment to satisfy at least one itch. She gestured towards the general vicinity of the bakemono. Are you from this town? She asked, then her circular motions became smaller until she was gesturing at the woman's breasts without actually looking at them, as captivating as they were. What do those mean?