This house is elegant, sporting delicate and custom-designed art noveau-esque architecture. Its size is quite formidable, as the impeccably decorated front room is designed to host medium to large dragons if necessary. Soft, sheer white drapes coax the moonlight into wavering gently through the room. The colours are predominantely white-based with accents in just the right places. A magnificent suit of armor hangs suspended in a faintly glowing field that keeps it away from dust and air too, a worthwhile purchase after dealing with polishing it for a few years. A delicate, offset grand staircase leads to the two more human-sized upper levels. All this said, the beautiful place is...well...fairly cold. Not in a literal sense, so much as it's more like a show house than someone's home. It doesn't feel lived in, and even its owner is aware of this. Still...it is a beautiful home, and it is hers.
Okarthel
Yin's Closet
Yin's Closet II
Yin's closet III
"Well. Home sweet home," Yin notes as the drive up.
"Loaded to the gills with security, I'm sure," Winter snickers. "It's nice! Or it will be when you're in it."
"Thanks. And yes. I personally would find it hard to break into here undetected. Thus, it's secure." Yin grins as they pull into the driveway--her own neglected car is in the garage, and the other half has some crap and work areas in it--and steps out of the car.
Winter steps out as well, looking up at the impressive size of the place. "You get draconic visitors sometimes, eh?" Actually... she's small talking and knows it. She just wants to get Yin out of those dry clothes and into a wet... anything, right now.
"Mm-hm. The top two levels are human-sized, but the first accomodates reasonably-sid
ed draconian visitors." She heads up...disarms the locks, and heads inside, flicking on the light. Pristine and beautifully, stylishly decorated as ever. Unlived in, untouched, for the most part. She lives very neatly on the rare occasion she's here.
Winter just admires the clinical aspect of the house, almost choking on it. "You live in a museum," she says, wonder raising her voice a little. "It's very stylish and clean!" And she can't think of anything good to say about it. "I'd be lying if I said it was my kind of place, though."
"That's okay, I forgive you." Yin chuckles. "I'm...a pretty neat person, and like I said, I spend about two months here a year. It's never really been broken in. Would you like a drink?" She smiles, tossing her jacket--she does so love light winter clothes even though they're not necessary--in the closet.
"I would," Winter's quick to answer. "I don't suppose you have an Xbox." Smirks a little.
"Phaw." Yin laughs aloud at this, as she wanders over to the kitchen and her liquor cabinet. "Would I really be so bad at it if I did?" She grins, and opens the door. "Mm...what would you like? Nothing near your selection, of course, but representatives of most categories." Good stuff, too. Yin has kind of expensive tastes in liquor, owed partially to being difficult to intoxicate...and also to having taste buds.
"I would like... hm. Sam Adams Boston Lager, if you have it?" Winter wanders that way, feeling a little underdressed for the museum.
"Um...no. I have their cherry wheat microbrew, if that's okay?"
"Yes, that's perfect," Winter nods, looking for a stool to park herself on. She feels oddly out of place, but better, more comfortable. Badly needs that drink. "Can I watch you get it?"
Yin grins back at her. "I don't need to bend over to do so, more's the luck. Want me to pretend I do?" She chuckles, and retrieves the beer out of a small, cooler fridge built into the cabinets. A bit of ice crystallizes in her hand and over the beer's cap, and she just pulls it right off, setting that in front of Winter. "Here you are! Role reversal?"
Winter takes the beer, snickering; she was thinking the same thing. "And that's fine. I just wanted to look at your shoulders. I like them." She pops the top, taking a moment to breathe in the hops scent.
Yin chuckles, and hops up to seat herself on the counter--there are no stools on this side, and she doesn't feel like walking around--and she's not that thirsty after earlier, herself. "So," she inquires. "Are you feeling okay about things? As much as can be expected, I mean." She smiles gently. "And if you have questions, I can answer some of them. You know the drill, I think."
"I don't..." Drink, drink, drink. "I don't know what I want to know. I almost want to sleep through the whole thing. I'm okay, but really, I'd rather just... wait it out. I don't know. Is there anything I should know?" Winter leans against the counter herself after a while, a few feet down from Yin.
"Well...that would really be valuable right now? Everything is under control now, I'm 90% positive. So...if you can relax, this would be a good time." Yin smiles reassuringly. "And it's more comfortable and less clinical upstairs, I promise." She chuckles. "Not much, but a bit, and the guest rooms have several different tones of decor. Hopefully you can find something you like. She smiles. "Want to go take alook?"
"Please?" Winter pushes away from the counter, looking up into Yin's eyes.
Yin smiles at her, and nods. Puts a hand on Winter's shoulder, and heads for the stairs.
Winter's eyes almost close at the hand on her shoulder. Every time Yin touches her, the power of her presence almost floors the water witch; she can't explain it, and doesn't hope to. She just follows, mystified.
On the astral plane, meanwhile, Sphyxian stretches, and prepares to settle into a sort of floaty, quiet sort of recuperation somewhat akin to a more alert sleep. If there's trouble with Yin he'll know it, however, she does need privacy sometimes.
Upstairs, there are several different tones of decor in a few rooms Yin leads Winter to. All stylish. One's more industrial and modern, very chic, one's quite homey and classic, one's clearly Tuscan-inspired, one's more French. "you can sleep wherever you like. None of these are my room, the master's on the other end of the hall."
Winter follows Yin inside, and delights in the atmosphere in this level. It's like a buffet of world architecture, which is something she's quite interested in. She's half-goth, art stoof is part of the program. She lets her eyes linger on the Tuscan area, fingertips to black painted lips for a moment and a half.
"Where will you sleep?" she asks, tearing her eyes away from the decor to look at Yin.
"In my room." Yin smiles softly. I may not be here often, but it's always a lovely treat.
"May I sleep there?" Pause. "With you?"
Yin pauses. Seems to consider, resistant. Then...chuckles softly. Holds out a hand.
Winter almost hesitates. It's as if someone just opened a locked door for her. She reaches out with the hand not currently holding half a lager, and lets her fingertips slide along Yin's palm and her hand lays on top Yin's. She feels that same pressure again, the presence of the ice element so powerfully woven into this woman's cells, and her lips quiver a little from it. Her eyes find Yin's, cling to that amusement, and she smiles, herself.
Squeezes the hand, waiting to be led, or asked to lead.
Yin's hand allows Winter's to find it for just a moment. Then hers flips over in half a blink, snapping hard around her wrist and displaying a bare shadow of the strength, obscene speed, and utter finesse her enemies see. The result, though, is different, as Winter quickly finds herself pinned in a harsh, unforgiving hold...and cold lips pressed as firmly to hers.
Winter starts, heart lurching with something not far from genuine fear. She almost whimpers -- it hurts -- but the lips, the cold, this woman, the sheer pressure of her aura all steal any resistance she might have had away. Her eyes stay open for a few moments, drinking in this amazon goddess before her, and her returned kiss, despite Yin's strength, is yielding, almost gently desparate. Her eyes close at last, and she whimpers softly, "more, more..."
Yin smiles softly. So, she shouldn't. But Winter's right. When has that ever stopped her from anything? She has the feeling that she's the man tonight...a nice change, she's a switch anyway. Thus, the wicker may find herself literally swept off the ground, into Yin's well-toned arms, as the dragoon starts back down the hall to her room.
Winter's breath sighs out, exhilarated, almost cliche happy. She feels so vulnerable in those arms, strong, capable arms, beautiful and feminine but powerful still. Her own arms wraps around Yin's neck, and her head finds the dragoon's shoulder, resting there, kissing gently. Her heart pumps lightning into her most sensitive points, even now, and she kisses, and kisses.
Yin kisses Winter more softly once in her room, just before tossing the wicker onto her bed, standing above. "What do you want, Winter?"
Winter's breath comes fast, but her eyes are cloudy, almost sad. She sits up on her elbows, staring into the eyes of the goddess above.
"I don't know," she admits, quietly, "I almost... just want to lie with you." Her head is swimming. "Strip me?"
"Now why..." Yin purrs softly as she shuts the drapes, "would I do something like that?" She sets her fingers on the top button of Winter's jacket-blouse, other fingers gently stroking the inner part of one of her upper arms...but makes no move to open it. Just fiddles.
Winter doesn't lay back, just...looks at Yin, bathing in her presence. Her breath is rattled at the touch on her inner arms.
"Because you're merciful to me," she whispers, "and right now our clothes are agony."
Yin smirks just a touch. Her fingers cool as they run slowing up and down her arm...and the first button comes loose.
Winter's breath comes right out at that, almost as if it's been pushed out of her. Her eyes lock with Yin's, sparkling. "Oh my gods," she whispers, almost as if she's being crushed by Yin's sheer force of presence. She just wants, more than anything, to lie nude in Yin's arms, flesh to flesh, to be so impossibly close that they are almost the same woman.
Yin purrs gently, and takes her time with this. She's not sure if she's really in the mood or not...but she can certainly get there. There's something particularly special about the...wrongness of it all, Winter being her client, that makes it that much more delicious. The jacket falls limp, loose and unbuttoned, and Yin leans over her to gently kiss the upper part of Winter's neck, beneath her jaw.
Winter is absolutely putty right now. She knows Yin doesn't really want this. Knows it, but intends to make it worth her while. The cold lips on her neck make her shoulders jolt, and she falls to her back, staring up.
"What do you want...?"
"I think," Yin purrs, not missing a beat, "I's like to see what it takes to make a wicker squirm." This, as a hand slips under Winter's shirt, cupping directly around the entirety of her breast.
Winter's eyes almost cross. "Yin," she gasps, "I've never felt this sensitive in all my life. Ever." Her hand covers her shirt over Yin's hand. She pushes gently down, grinding the dragoon's palm against her pert, pink nipple. "All it takes is you," she whispers, and smiles a mischievous smile. Her fingers move, and the water magic in the air should begin to manipulate Yin to the point that she should be feeling a sudden warm wetness rising between her legs.
In the same instant, Winter sits up a little, and tries to throw her free arm around Yin's neck, to pull her down into a deep, suckling kiss.
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