#hellscaress

&&.  𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑  ☠︎︎  @hellscaress  ;  Moraena

               𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄   𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑   𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐋𝐘   𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓   𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒,   Puck  &  Moraena  may  have  more  in  common  with  one  another  than  they  do  with  any  other  companion.  (  Likely  to  the  dismay  of  both.  Certainly  to  Puck's.  That's  a  mean  thing  to  think,  Puck.  )

Still,  Puck  thinks  there  may  be  a  few  things  about  him  that  are  .  .  .  out  of  left  field,  even  for  people  like  him  &  Moraena.

He  shuffles  his  feet  awkwardly,  weight  shifting  from  one  to  the  other  then  back  again  &  again  as  he  sways.  Stalling.  Searching  for  how  to  phrase  his  question.

              ❝  Hey,  uh  .  .  .  ❞  He  scratches  behind  one  ear.  Clasps  his  hands  behind  his  back.  Clears  his  throat.  ❝  You  aren't  growing  a  tail,  are  you  ？❞

Not  that  he  is.  That  would  be  preposterous.  Absurd.  No,  no.  No  nub  of  a  tail  hiding  in  the  back  of  his  trousers  causing  him  great  discomfort  every  second  of  the  day,  certainly  not.

              ❝  Just,  uh  .  .  .  Curious,  haha.  ❞

Oh, he would strangle that fiend the next chance he had-- And by the Black Hand did he hope it was soon. Gortash turned his head slightly, gaze forcibly pulled away from the plans he had been hanging over to the Bhaalspawn waiting on his explanation. "Wh--" he started, voice catching and brow furrowing; he had a lot of questions in return. Starting from the easiest was his best course of action, if he had to be put on the spot like this by Moraena and more precisely, her butler.

enough of this charade. / evayaneth~

AH, yes. Courtesy. The ability to appease the masses, as such was the tactical prowess of the one Enver Gortash. Courteous, even to his enemies. "I am sure they will be just fine, there is a mere ...yet simple, game of politics at a play and I am sure they will understand.. in time. Now. As we were."

@hellscaress liked for a one liner.

"Kori!" Raphael's borrowed voice carried down the corridors of the House of Hope. The master of the house had left, making it the perfect time for a little rule breaking. The first rule? Leaving the boudoir.

Rather than the leather harness Raphael preferred them in, Haarlep was dressed in a black, silk robe that was loosely tied at their waist and just one wrong move from coming undone. They didn't care if it did. The entire house had seen more of them plenty of times.

Gortash paused, quill in hand frozen mid-note over the diagram he had been working on. His brows knitted together as he thought about the question, dug deep into his memory-- had he ever killed someone?

He had damned plenty, maybe indirectly killed in the progression of his plan-- no, he had most definitely indirectly killed before, but never had he himself brandished a blade and made a killing blow. Why would he? He was no killer, anything he needed done and anyone he needed gone he could do so without the bloodshed.

She marches right up on her and lifts a hand up to slide her arms around Moraena's middle, palms lock right up along the back of her shoulders as she molds herself right into her front. One hand moving down to curl around her lower back as she kisses her. And kisses her hard with the slight dip of Moraena's weight in her arms. Minthara's head tilts with the further open of her mouth, lips soften with the touch of her tongue dancing along her lower lip. Before she releases her shoulder to line her arm with the back of the other Drow's neck to hold her in place as she fully deepens that kiss.