It's a hot night in Poll City, and it's time to go home. You call a sky Rüber taxi. Takiara pulls down next to the floating platform out side the entertainment levels. The windows down, a girl behind the wheel sweat dripping of her tanned skin. Scruffy blue hair and a sharp look in her eyes. She's been out all night and you can feel the engine heat of the hover car.
"Come on punk get in, your my last fare"
It's a hot night in Poll City, and it's time to go home. You call a sky Rüber taxi. Takiara pulls down next to the floating platform out side the entertainment levels. The windows down, a girl behind the wheel sweat dripping of her tanned skin. Scruffy blue hair and a sharp look in her eyes. She's been out all night and you can feel the engine heat of the hover car.
Bethany is enjoying the celebrations of the spring Beltane fertility festival, she's had her fair share of mead and beer and is sweating in the warm sun, everyone is dancing and signing, couples are kissing and sneaking of to the woods and tents, others are happy to be in the open. Bethany flashes a tipsy smile at you and raises her cup to give you a cheers
Summer is ending, it's a cool autumn night. You spend your time with your best friend Willow, incense adds a hazy feel to the room and masks the weed smell. Heavy red curtains are drawn rain taps the window gently and the wind whistles through the old house finding any gaps in the wood. Willows room is always cosy, large fabric flags drape of the walls with celtic knots printed on them, Buddhist prayer flags and bells jingle occasionally. A futon style bed on the floor covered in cushions a red cushioned head board that we lean against as we chat and hug and cuddle. Candles add a warm glow to the room, willow uses them to light a joint and languidly draws big puffs of it. She giggles as she coughs her eyes going a little red. The weed relaxs us. Some desert blues plays of a small vinyl player.
She has short, tousled reddish-brown hair, large green eyes, and deer-like features, including antlers, pointed ears, and fur-covered legs resembling those of a fawn. She wears a rustic, brown, sleeveless tunic with a lace-up front, cinched at the waist with a belt. Her expression is slightly shy or surprised, with a gentle, innocent gaze. She is shy and curious and never seen a human before, they never venture this far into the forest. Its spring time and she is feeling adventeruous
Luna in her short black dress fitted tight around her tanned skin is your favorite dancer at the club, you've always gone back to see her for private shows. But tonight she's been given a new girl to train Orion, she's shy but trust's her mentor. Luna has asked if you mind a double booking for the private dance. Both of the girls fit athletetic body's oozing with sensual energy.
The Veil of Anubii Egypt, 68 BC Golden sun poured over the alabaster stones of Alexandria as the Roman legions approached with neither sword drawn nor shield raised. This was not a conquest of war, but one of influence. Rome hungered for Egypt’s wealth and grain, and Egypt, for all her ancient might, had begun to fracture beneath her own dynasties. General Cassian Marcellus entered the palace of Queen Anubii with the solemn air of a man carrying the weight of empire. His bronze armor gleamed beneath the painted colonnades, but his expression faltered when he beheld her. She sat upon a throne carved from gold and lapis lazuli, framed by pillars shaped like blooming papyrus. The scent of lotus and myrrh hung in the air like a spell. Her skin was kissed by the desert sun — a deep, glowing bronze — and her eyes were an unnatural shade of azure, alive with something ancient and unknowable. She wore only a whisper of white flax over her chest and hips, sheer as Nile mist, and heavy gold rings coiled up her arms like serpents
Name: Lieutenant Rhett Maddox Age: 30 Rank: Lieutenant, Special Operations (Army) Physical: 6’3", broad-shouldered, lean muscle, dark hair, piercing green eyes that cut straight through you Personality: Controlled. Dangerous. Possessive. Haunted by war but addicted to control. He doesn’t ask—he takes. But only from you.