[ hmm. shuffles forward to kneel on the sofa facing him, wrists folded delicately across the back. she looks up, all poised and pretty ]
Caravance. Simril. Fleetswake. Trolltide. [ sighs and begins counting on her fingers ] Dragondown... Day of Wonders... Reign of Misrule... Gods' Day, then Liar's Night...
Night of deceit and revelry. Don masks and disguises, and trust no one at their word. We had something similar here, reminded me little bit of it. At sundown, we set lit candles within gourds with little carved-out faces—we who don masks. Flame is as our true soul, and so you must never blow out another's candle. So long as it remains lit, neither lie nor embarrassment can sully our reputation nor be held against us. Oh, there are illusionists and magic-makers, and drinks and fireworks, and extraaaavagant parties... pickpockets everywhere on street, though we expect this, so there is very little we keep on our person to take. Night often descends into hedonism. I quite like it, actually.
Still, what you have described sounds far more... thrilling. Ah, how many pockets I could pick! How many individuals I might deceive with Ms Adler's beauty. I am jealous, my dear. I bet you had a roaring good time.
It is why I learn Disguise Self spell. [ for the express purpose of mischief without having to suffer a Vaux's reputation come morning. she shares a secret little smile with him for a moment, then— ] Who is this Ms Adler you speak of?
[His lips quirk, that smile shared. Oh, if he knew a spell that made disguising oneself so easy. Imagine how much he'd save on makeup.]
Oh, Ms Adler, only the most beautiful woman anyone might have laid eyes on in my world! [IS THIS SOMETHING YOU SAY TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND? PROBABLY NOT, but he clarifies with-] She is... me! Naturally. When I feel the need, or am given the necessary opportunity, to dress up accordingly.
[Is this surprising? He has surprised enough people with this information that their reactions are no longer novel to him.]
Sometimes for enjoyment, but as I said, sometimes for necessity. It is easier to walk the streets of London unrecognized, than to be hounded by those who would stop me and say, "Why, you are the legendary detective, Herlock Sholmes!" each and every block.
[ do people really word it that way, though. but isn't it interesting? isn't it such an insight to his world, that he might have to disguise himself on the very streets, that his work is such that he has constructed this entire persona? of a woman?
...she would be contemplating this glimpse he's provided into Victorian London, but instead she's being horny.
her tail flicks ]
You should open other gift from me.
[ flicks her wrist, also, and voila! another softly-wrapped package appears in her hand, which she holds out to him over the sofa's back ]
Indeed, she is naturally, ah, lacking in some areas, but far be it from me to talk ill about a lady's figure. Still, I would very much like to see you wearing that someday, Sprezzatura. Perhaps when we might yet steal away another moment of privacy together?
[ she wants to see her own boobies in the bra, so. win-win. with one careful glance towards the stairwell to the lobby, Sprezzatura lays the lingerie over her lap, shimmies her sweater so she can pull her arms back inside it without taking it off, then begins the work of unbuttoning the blouse beneath.
there is something titillating about doing this in the Phoenix common area. they could be caught. ]
[Sholmes would hear any footsteps approaching, know immediately who it might be from the tempo of their gait alone, and give them enough time to Act Normal (tm). But yes. It's titillating all the same, the possibility of it hanging over them.
Not that he seems the least bit anxious about it.]
Shall I turn the other way, let the presentation be a surprise?
[ simply put: she wants him to watch. making quick work of her blouse, she shimmies a little more and strips it down her arms and lets it drop to the floor. there are glimpses of very high stomach as she does this—just a touch of tasteful underboob visible when she raises her arms beneath the sweater. her gaze flits back and forth between Sholmes and that stairway, a secretive smile on her face, each motion a little more hasty than it might normally be. under the circumstances, you know.
she grabs the brassiere! and realizes that since it's a halter top, she does actually have to take off the sweater, too. ]
[His smile starts to skew similarly: a little bit gremlin-like. Sholmes moves forward, grasping hold of the shoulders of her sweater. A little tug upwards.]
Tell me when.
[If she's trying to do this quick and sneaky-like, then timing is everything. (It really isn't, this is just fun.)]
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retroductions) wrote2022-05-16 03:42 pm
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Caravance. Simril. Fleetswake. Trolltide. [ sighs and begins counting on her fingers ] Dragondown... Day of Wonders... Reign of Misrule... Gods' Day, then Liar's Night...
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Liar's Night? [Of course that one sounds the juiciest, and therefore the one that catches his attention.]
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Still, what you have described sounds far more... thrilling. Ah, how many pockets I could pick! How many individuals I might deceive with Ms Adler's beauty. I am jealous, my dear. I bet you had a roaring good time.
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stumbles in after christmas
Oh, Ms Adler, only the most beautiful woman anyone might have laid eyes on in my world! [IS THIS SOMETHING YOU SAY TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND? PROBABLY NOT, but he clarifies with-] She is... me! Naturally. When I feel the need, or am given the necessary opportunity, to dress up accordingly.
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she wraps her tail around her own ankle, settling back on her legs and pressing her fingers into the arch of the sofa's back ]
You... dress up like woman?
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[Is this surprising? He has surprised enough people with this information that their reactions are no longer novel to him.]
Sometimes for enjoyment, but as I said, sometimes for necessity. It is easier to walk the streets of London unrecognized, than to be hounded by those who would stop me and say, "Why, you are the legendary detective, Herlock Sholmes!" each and every block.
[Do people really word it that way, though.]
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...she would be contemplating this glimpse he's provided into Victorian London, but instead she's being horny.
her tail flicks ]
You should open other gift from me.
[ flicks her wrist, also, and voila! another softly-wrapped package appears in her hand, which she holds out to him over the sofa's back ]
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But at any rate, he approaches. Sholmes takes the present and begins to unwrap and open it.]
Oh? I am spoiled.
[But just how much? WHAT COULD IT BE.]
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her eyes are on the package as he unwraps it, with a strange sort of eager intent, now. inside is... this set of lingerie.
hmmmmmm. ]
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But the lingerie reveals itself to him, and his eyes widen a fraction, lifting it from its box to examine it more closely.]
Oh, my.
[That's a good "oh, my", mind you.]
Now, this is a gift. I imagine it is one for me to appreciate on your body, rather than Ms Adler's?
[He kids, but also. Ma'am. He'd like to see you wear this.]
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I imagine I would fill it out more than she.
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Indeed, she is naturally, ah, lacking in some areas, but far be it from me to talk ill about a lady's figure. Still, I would very much like to see you wearing that someday, Sprezzatura. Perhaps when we might yet steal away another moment of privacy together?
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Why not now? No one is here.
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You do have a point. If we are both feeling particularly bold, you could. I admit to a tinge of... impatience, on my part.
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Give it here.
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Hands it over. c: ]
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there is something titillating about doing this in the Phoenix common area. they could be caught. ]
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Not that he seems the least bit anxious about it.]
Shall I turn the other way, let the presentation be a surprise?
[No he's gonna look anyway.]
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[ simply put: she wants him to watch. making quick work of her blouse, she shimmies a little more and strips it down her arms and lets it drop to the floor. there are glimpses of very high stomach as she does this—just a touch of tasteful underboob visible when she raises her arms beneath the sweater. her gaze flits back and forth between Sholmes and that stairway, a secretive smile on her face, each motion a little more hasty than it might normally be. under the circumstances, you know.
she grabs the brassiere! and realizes that since it's a halter top, she does actually have to take off the sweater, too. ]
Wait, wait—help me.
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Tell me when.
[If she's trying to do this quick and sneaky-like, then timing is everything. (It really isn't, this is just fun.)]
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