World of Darkness: Balance of Power - [Changeling] Winter's Night

[z-Stephanie]

Nervously, Stephanie bit her lip and watched him go. Why did she feel like she was seeing him for the last time. "Be careful," she whispered, but the sound was swallowed by the music. Shivering, she turned her gaze back to the assumed hobgoblins, watching them closely.

[Jewel Starglass]

The dance was quite wonderful, even if she wasn't quite completely easy about it, something felt a bit off. Still, she was determined to enjoy her dance, and in fact she was indeed, enjoying it. Her partner, regardless of whither they were male or female was remarkable, making the dance all the more perfect and marvelous. Actually, it was somewhat scary how perfect the steps were, though she pushed the fear out of her mind.

Somewhere about midway into the dance, she managed to set her fears aside, and give herself over to the dance completely. She embraced the elegant and erotic dance that her partner was guiding her in, and even beginning to add her own touches to it. In fact, before long, it was a dance of desire and celebration, graceful, erotic and elegant, and rather suggestive without being blatant or indecent. Which actually took some doing, and she was not at all certain she could have managed to do at all by herself.

At last, however, the dance came to an end, and with a smile, she curtsied to her partner, a touch breathless. "Thank you for a lovely dance."

[Jack]

The end of the masked figure's dance with the glass Changeling found Jack and her unknown companion standing near the bar, sipping from their respective glasses. Neither of them were particularly comfortable sitting, or presenting their backs to an open room filled with such a mixed crowd; both were unacceptable disadvantages. Instead, they casually angled their bodies toward the ballroom that spread out in a whirl of color and sound before them, watching the crowds as they drank.

The quiet between them was almost companionable, void of the awkwardness usually inherent in long moments without conversation. Predictably, it was Jack who opened her mouth first, her tongue loosened by the spicy concoctions she'd been drinking and the entire surreal experience of the gathering.

"Y'know, if you're new here, you oughtta get acquainted with the courts, and all that," she suggested nonchalantly, waving her free hand out toward the throngs of people. "Figure out who's who, what's what, and where you shouldn't go after dark. That kinda stuff. If you're plannin' on stayin' for a while, anyway."

[John Wintersmith]

Sparkling facets of emerald ice glanced her way, then back at the mingling throng as John took another sip of his frost-wreathed glass of wine. He was silent for a long moment as he considered her(?) words, then he nodded with slow deliberation.

"Sage advice. It may be that I will be here for a spell." He paused then, turning his masked visage towards her. "I hesitate to ask such a boon from one I have just met, but perhaps you could provide some advice, at least on whom to avoid and who is deserving of some measure of respect?" One slender hand hovered over the white figure's heart as the lips of the magical mask curved in the faintest of smiles. "I would consider it an act of kindness that I fain would repay with any meagre means at my disposal."

[The Story Guide]

Jewel's partner said his farewell to her with a courtly bow and murmured, "The thanks is mine; it was a mostly engaging dance."

*************************************

Stephanie turned, at the hobs were gone. No trace was left of them other than a few scattered crumbs on the floor near where they'd been standing.

*************************************

Adam had circled around the building, striding in through the loading dock doors that serviced the kitchens and janitorial areas of the clubhouse. It was much as one would expect: full of bustling servers and cooks and left over food and food still being prepared. He stepped into the kitchen proper to the dulcet tones of shrewish woman shouting over the din of pots and pans as she kneaded furiously at a batch of spice sweetbread.

"-and Patty, I said turn off that damn al-"

The command was cut short as one of the ovens in the room exploded, sending shrapnel of stainless steel, white cake, and motlen-hot oven elements spewing through the walls of the kitchen and into both the winter chill of outside and across the hallway separating the kitchens from the ballroom. The ballroom wall buckled and cracked, impossible flames bursting forth from any piece of the oven that touched a flammable material and through to the crowded room. It was death and chaos and fire, and it was spreading with supernatural speed.

[Adam]

As far as Adam could tell only a single member of the kitchen staff survived the blast; the one he managed to shield with his body at the last moment. He would have traveled out the service door with the concussive force of the blast had he not already made it a few steps inside and been thrown against solid brick. As he fell he collapsed his body down a poor member of the kitchen staff who'd been tossed in his direction by the explosion. Had he not, the falling and scattering debris may had very well had finished her off.

Dust and wreckage slid off his body as the mammoth titan stood up, slightly woozy. The chaos of the damage disguised the sound of grinding rock within his joints as the armor of stone crumbled away, leaving him safe, if not a bit shook up.

He looked to the woman he'd protected. She was covered in minor scrapes and lacerations and was no doctor but had to assume she'd probably have a concussion. "Ma'am," He said softly as she struggled to gain her bearings. "There has been a tragedy. I highly recommend, if you are able, to egress swiftly. I shall search the environs for survivors."

He stomped off, assured she would be safe with the aftermath if a little disoriented. His glorious rack smashed into the plaster and drywall that covered the studs in the wall that connected the kitchen to the adjoining rooms. Horns tore through rumble and dozed aside debris as he made his way to the dance hall. Fairest Stephanie... be alright.

His eye burned red with the rage of warrior that dozed through the wreckage of a deed that could not go unpunished. How many had been injured or killed? For what? Senseless slaughter and mindless destruction... whomever was responsible, he'd find them and they would pay.

Insanity gripped the dance hall as people were a state of shock and attempting to recover from the terror of the blast. "Stephanie!" Like the 'Beast' in Disney's tale, the cry for his ward as much the roar of a monster as it was a call for her to announce she was safe. "Stephanie!"

[Ali Badren]

Garrett blinked as nothing was there, then the wave of flame burst through the room. With an instinctive cry of alarm, he pinned Stephanie down, as the burning wave of flame and heat encircled him.

Click to reveal..

Grappling Stephanie

(16:51:05) ChatBot: (Garrett) rolls 7d10 and gets 8,2,9,5,2,8,5

[Jewel Starglass]

For Jewel, the sudden explosion of fire was suprising, and made her feel like she jumped out of her skin, but she had a manner of dealing with the flames.. for her personally at least. Calling on her contract with fire, with large amounts of flame present, to make herself immune to the flames.

[z-Stephanie]

Stephanie screamed as the world went to hell - fire and noise. Garrett knocked into her, bearing her to the ground under his body. Despite her desire to be self-reliant, she found herself huddled under him, pulling herself into a tight ball.

[Jack]

Whatever Jack had been about to say to her companion was cut short as an explosion rocked the ballroom. She had just enough time to whip her head around, seeking the source of the blast as she staggered, before flames roared out through the hole that had been blasted in the wall. Everything was hurled into darkness, and chaos reigned. That's when the screams began, and a surge of energy raced up her spine.

Blood, death, pain, and fire. Something nearby growled, low and menacing, and it took a moment to realize the sound issued from her own throat. Emergency lighting flickered to life all around, and it was just enough to see the maddened throngs trampling each other through the smoke and fire. Inwardly, she cursed the sluggishness induced by the alcohol, even as she moved to haul the frosty Changeling to safety behind the bar- not away from the flames, but from the panicked, stampeding partygoers. It was, she figured, the least she could do for a fellow freak.

[John Wintersmith]

It was beyond anything in his experience, the hellish noise and thunderous concussion, the darkness and smoke and screaming mob. John lay where the blast wave had thrown him on the floor, elaborate clothes in disarray, mask askew and obscuring his sight while his ears rang. He'd read and heard a lot about the horrors of bomb-blasts over the previous year living in this modern age of terrorism. Indeed, his first dazed thought was But why would these Al Quaeda attack the Winter Ball? This was immediately followed by the slightly more cogent Fool. Anyone can use a bomb, can't they?

He felt a strong hand grab his wrist and drag him like a sack of flour across the debris-littered floor while his free hand flailed to slip his mask back into place. Giving up on that, he settled for removing the full-face mask altogether, letting it dangle on the ribbon around his neck as Jack finished dragging him behind the bar.

"My thanks." he said to his saviour, brushing hair like spun snow from his face before gathering his feet under him. Some old reflex sent his left hand to his right hip, but he sighed as it encountered only velvet and silks rather than the hilt of a sword. Not wasting any further time on self-recrimination for believing himself safe enough to go unarmed, John Wintersmith peered over the top of the bar at the dimly-lit chaos beyond before looking back at Jack. "We should perhaps gather those in need that we may and leave." he suggested calmly.

[Jack]

Jack was agitated. On the one hand, somebody was responsible for ruining the first good buzz she'd had in a long time, and generally fucking up the night for everybody- not to mention costing her a not insignificant sum when the costume went back to the hobbity Mr. Nimblestitch. The hat and walking stick were long gone, so no doubt she'd be on the receiving end of a truly epic ass-chewing when he found out. On the other hand, a guy who (shockingly) was prettier without his mask was asking her to help round up stray little lambs and get them safely back to their flocks. It was the right thing to do, concentrating on the solution, not the problem, yadda yadda...

With a half-growl, half-sigh of exasperation, Jack shoved her own mask down, batting the offending bit of papier-mâché behind her head, where it hung limply from its knotted cord. Hazel eyes, rendered luminous and diabolic in the leaping orange glow of the flames, regarded John briefly. Her head swiveled sharply in the direction of a nearby scream, and then back to him. Indecision was writ plain on her angular features, etched into every sinew as she wavered between the dictates of her upbringing and the edicts of her altered soul. Back and forth she swayed as she crouched there beside her companion, her physical posture echoing the battle within.

Suddenly, she called out over the din, "You wanted to know who you should avoid in this town?" A crooked grin tugged at the corner of her mouth, and she reached behind her back. From beneath the once-immaculate tails of her coat, her long-fingered hands produced a pair of knives with gleaming 8" blades. Handing one to the pale Changeling hilt-first, she dipped her head in a mock-bow. "You can call me Jack," she said, "and give her back when you're done with her. They get lonely when they're apart for too long."

Laughing like a madwoman, she vaulted over the demolished bartop and launched herself through the throng, seeking out the hallways and side passages where rats, arsonists, and other vermin might have fled. The smoke and heat might have deterred more rational beings, but only served to spur Jack onward. Whatever spark her anonymous dance partner had awakened earlier in the evening, the explosion had fanned it into no less a conflagration than the one that raged in the building itself.

Click to reveal.. (WP Check!)

(01:44:00) ChatBot: (Jack) rolls 4d10 and gets 2,2,2,2.

(01:44:36) (Jack): Oh, that's not good.

Rolled Jack's Willpower as a means of leaving her reaction to the chaos up to chance. We see how well that worked out!

Note for ze ST: Will add any athletics or perception rolls necessary- just let me know if you need them!

Click to reveal.. (Shiny!)

[John Wintersmith]

"God's teeth!" John swore softly as his leaf-green eyes blinked disbelievingly after the apparently mad woman as she vaulted the bar and plunged into the chaos. She was brave... Or as mad as she appeared. Either way, 'Jack' had saved him from being trampled by the herd of panicking revellers. And now she was heading into uncertain peril, and he had no desire to follow her... and yet he had to, now. He looked at the long knife in his hand, hefting it. Though not his preferred Toledo blade it was a fine weapon, similar to the parrying blades he had practiced with once... once upon a time. He couldn't remember when, but that was not a matter for the Now. It would suffice. It would have to suffice.

"Damn and blast it all." The normally stoic Snowskin swore again as he, too, vaulted over the bar and took off after Jack through the crowd. His beautiful features were set in a terrible mask of stern coldness as he half ran, half strode in the Beast-kith's wake.

[The Story Guide]

Everything in and around the building was chaos; despite the snow falling and on the ground, the fire just burned hotter and hotter. Anything easily flammable that came within a few inches of something already on fire was bursting into flames. For those with some presence of mind to be watching, there was a light green flash around those objects just before they began adding their own heat and destruction to the mess. Most of the building was already on fire, what was left of the kitchen staff was strewn in black and crimson over the area.

Adam managed to pick his way through the ballroom, spotting Jack and John as they made mad dashes over the bar. He could also see Anar crouched over the ground, the Winter's Masque finery that had been on his back singed to ash and several blisters forming in the rising heat of the building. Underneath the beast-kin changeling, Adam caught sight of a scrap of red and orange dress.

As Jack dashed through what was quickly becoming the ruins of the building, she caught site of an incongruous lot of masquers, masques still on in all the chaos, making a beeline for the coat closet. The first creature made it to the door, opening it into a dense bramble of the labyrinthine Hedge that permeated Kansas City; the filed through quickly, the flames already threatening the integrity of the door. The last, a smaller and rounder creature than the others, turn and lifted up it's masque, revealing the leather green skin, bulbous nose, and black eyes of Koltan Hobgoblin, the local tribe. She bared her teeth at Jack in a nasty smile, shedding cake crumbs from her mouth, and laughed. "Catch me if you can, little bitch!"

With that she ducked into the Hedge with her other compatriots, leaving the burning doorway open.

Jewel called upon her contract with flames and felt the fires around her resist. There was more them than mere combustion and heat and they resented her presumption that she could control them or withstand their destruction. They seemed almost alive as they moved towards her, lunging with a hungry anger. She felt strong arms wrap around her waist and cool voice murmur, "Hold on."

The world spun and wrenched itself around the two of them, twisting her body and mind to the point of madness for one brief moment. Then everything snapped back into coherent patterns and she was standing outside on the snow a hundred yards or so from the burning building. Her rescuer let her go and she caught sight of the blue and gold masque, still immaculately in place. The figure frowned at the building and muttered something unintelligible under their breath.

"Stay here," the dance partner commanded and began striding back towards the inferno.

The living and the injured were still running and screaming. The Monarchs were trying to keep order; Mother Swan was directing the refugees from the dance, separating the mortals that had found their way in from the Changelings with a simmering efficiency. Jekyll was with her, speaking to the humans who had the misfortune of witnessing a bit too much of the world this evening and ensuring that whatever accounts they would give would be too garbled or fantastic for the authorities to take serious. He seemed pleased with himself and satiated as only harbinger of Autumn could be in this kind of situation.

Goldscale was rescuing the injured and unconscious from the building, his scales glistening with blood and heat as he made his way from body to body in the ballroom. The dead were left, there was little he could do with them and there was still the hope that the next person would be breathing. Old Man Death was still sitting on his dais, slumped unconscious over the side. His aura of cold had so far kept the flames from claiming the area, but it was a loosing battle.

[Adam]

The floor quaked as he moved as swiftly as he was able to where his charge lay. Avoiding people wasn't easy, but he did his best. "Out of the way!" "Stay down!" and other assorted warnings were about all he offered between earth shattering footfalls.

"Steaphanie!" He fell to one knee, moving her cover off of her effortlessly with one gigantic hand and a slight push. He rolled off of her, he appeared alive, but 'Adam' was far more concerned her his fairest Stephanie than he was some unknown changeling who, for all he knew could have been involved in this madness.

"Please awaken fairest Stephanie." He gently stroked her hair out of her eyes with a massive blue palm. "I left your side for but a moment and tragedy is all that comes afterward. I pray you'll forgive my foolishness."

Gently he attempted to rouse her from her impact induced unconsciousness.

Click to reveal..

For those of you playing the home game, explosions are not 'just fire' that we can contract our way through and ignore. The concussion will reach you long before the heat will (unless the heat is carried on blast). There are several other things to consider, like structural damage. One damaged support, just one, and you can lose half of a building in a collapse, even really big ones. At the very worse you lose the building entirely.

I'm not trying to step on Mala's toes by adding this, but I felt a couple players just seemed to treat this like it was nothing at all for them, just a simple thing they were better off ignoring, like there's no way a disaster compete with their awesomeness.

Buildings blowing up and explosions are nothing to joke around about, PCs of any power level are pretty much screwed when something blows up, try to give the scene the respect is deserves in the future please, from one player to another.

[z-Stephanie]

Things weren't making a lot of sense right now. Her ears were ringing and the room spun wildly around her as she sought her bearings. It was a useless effort; she felt as though she were on a tilt-a-whirl no matter how she moved.

Groaning, she let herself go limp and closed her eyes. She wasn't aware of it, but she blacked out for a moment. The tiny Changeling would later swear she'd been conscious the whole time, but it was Adam's careful coaxing that pulled her into responsiveness.

Glazed pink eyes stared up at him, and it took too long for her to recognize him. "Ah-ahdam?" she slurred. "I... I don't feel... Wha happen'd?" She blinked some more and said, "I can... can't hear myself... I thin... think I'm... deaf." Scared, she curled herself against his chest, seeking comfort in his presence since she could take none in his warm voice.

[John Wintersmith]

Mindful of the probability that his erstwhile companion was entirely capable of plunging into the Hedge after who-knows how many hobgoblins, John lengthened his stride to catch up closer to Jack and rested a hand on her shoulder, not gripping, but in a definitely cautionary way.

"We should not." he said, his soft voice projecting enough to reach her ears. Another explosion rocked the two of them, and John flinched as a small shard of hot glass scored a line across his frost-rimed cheek. He gently tugged at Jack's shoulder, indicating that the two of them should leave via the more conventional route. "Come. There will be a time to pay this offence back in full, but it is not now, friend."

[Jack]

The growl that formed her response was less an audible experience than a tactile one; the roar of the flames, the screams of pain and fear, and the sound of structural havoc being wreaked by the explosions all but drowned out his voice, and her guttural reply. That left only the low, resonant vibration that shuddered through her lean body in an ominous tremor.

Fuck. Jack glared first at the door that opened into the Labyrinth, and then the cool hand of the Changeling who'd dared to try to stop her. That fat-assed little cake-eater was baiting her, and she knew it, but it didn't do much to calm her down. She still wanted to gouge the mouthy little twat's eyes out and skullfuck her with something sharp. Maybe a rib.

She ground her teeth, free hand clenching and unclenching into an angry fist as her knuckles went white around the grip of her blade. If she didn't go through, that tubby little bitch had won. If she did, chances were good that some other freak would keep her busy for another decade or twelve, and that was not going to happen. At least, not until she was damned good and ready...

"Fine," she shot back tersely, brushing John's hand from her shoulder and turning back the way she'd come. "Scaly cunt's dead anyway. She just doesn't know it yet."

[The Story Guide]

Goldscale reached where Jack and John were making their way out, his brow drenched in sweat and several of his scales scored or completely torn off. He motioned them towards the closest hole in the wall, handing off another changeling, a small Wizend woman that was breathing but unconscious. "Take her to Blush. She's with Mother Swan. She's got some goblin fruit with her and some healing arts."

He started to cough and waved them off towards the hole, ducking his head and making his way back into the flames for another one that might be able to be saved.

The blue and gold masqued dancer strode back into the inferno of a building, seemingly unconcerned and untouched by the chaos around him. The flames reached out for them, even as they were reaching out for the living and dying left in the building, but they never quite seemed to close the distance to their clothes or skin. They passed through the room, taking a moment to look at the body of each changeling that had died in the initial blast, making a slow circuit towards the dias of the Winter King.

Adam, Anar, and Stephanie could feel the icy rage that swept through the room; at first it was a welcome respite from the heat, but it bit down on their souls, an overwhelming mix of grief and fury. Dimly through the flames they could see the masqued figure bent over the Winter King, gently arranging the ancient body across the dias that itself was flowing into a form more befitting a bed - or bier. The thorny branches of a rosebush burst from underneath the transformed dias, frost-rim pale blue blossoms bursting out along the branches as the plant quickly overtook area.

The flames lept again for the figure and the dead Monarch, and this time the masqued figure did not ignore them. A slender hand grasped the tongues of flame, his touch setting off a chain reaction that raced through the destroyed room: though still red and orange, the flames froze in place, their hungry heat slowly being overcome by the bitter cold permeating out from the fallen form of Old Man Death.

Goldscale spotted the trio, still crouched on the floor, and made his way over. The smoke was bearing down on them, cutting off their vision and their breath. "Come on! We've got to leave, the police are almost here and the building might collapse any minute!"

He scooped an arm around Anar's side and motioned for Adam to lead the way out with Stephanie. One last glance over his shoulder showed that the Spring King was well aware of the strange happenings in the center of the ballroom, but now was not the time to investigate the stranger. Or risking their power and anger being turned on them.

In the distance the wail of sirens that were making their way towards the chaos could be dimly heard.

[Adam]

The giant cradled Fairest Stephanie in his arms and stood. Looking down at the man who protected her he offered only a slight nod of appreciation. "Stranger, tis as the man says. The environs are no longer hospitable to our company. Let us make haste to the nearest exit." Even with her in his arms he rolled his shoulders and there was a rock-like grinding where his shoulders met his body. "Or make our own."

He hunched low, using his back and head to provide cover for his charge so that he could safely spirit her away. Debris and burning embers rained down upon him as he moved, scorching his clothing and leaving him to appear as a smoking giant tearing through the scene...

[John Wintersmith]

Taking and cradling the limp Wizened in his cool arms, John looked started for the hole in the wall alongside Jack. They emerged into a service alley alongside the building, and the two Changelings paused there for a moment as they caught their bearings.

"Whither lies this 'Blush', friend?" The tall, slender Elemental asked, turning his green eyes on his still-fuming compatriot. "If you will lead, I will follow."

[z-Stephanie]

Stephanie still wasn't completely coherent of what was happening. She was aware that she was being moved; the motion was making her feel sick. Groaning, she clutched at Adam's jacket and tried to pull herself together.

It wasn't working very well, but she felt the moment when they left the building. The air was no longer stifling hot, feeling like ice against her over-heated skin. The deep breaths of air were so wonderful to her smoke drenched lungs. She would soon be cold, but for now, she just felt good - and safe.

Dazed, she looked up at 'Adam's' broad, handsome features. Smiling with an uneven smile, she reached up and touched his cheek with one tiny hand. "Thank you," she said, even though she couldn't hear any reply he'd made. It was important for her to say it anyway.

[Jewel Starglass]

Having been rescued from the flaming building by her dancing partner, Jewel was caught by uncertainty. She wasn't sure which was the best thing to do, and for a moment was caught in indecision. However, it didn't take long to see where the greatest need was, and she chosen to help Goldscale as he brought others out of the building.

[Ali Badren]

"I'm fine..." Anar hissed before shrugging off the arm and pushing his way doggedly after Adam out of the ballroom. He winced at the pain but kept moving regardless.

[The Story Guide]

Jewel caught up with Goldscale as they cleared the building; a brief glimpse behind the Monarch showed the glass-made Changeling a strange tableau: insdie the fire was a beir of glass or ice roses, with the Winter King in state. Next to him were two figures arguing, ignoring the flames with unsettling success. One was her dance partner; the other was a man, but she could tell little more than that through the haze and heat of the flames. The man reached up and snatched the masque from her former partner, gesturing angrily towards the hole in the wall that she was peering through. She had just enough time to register sandy-blond hair, haughty eyes, and a too perfectly beautiful face to be human or even Fairest before the newer stranger grabbed the shirt of the dancer and the two dissappeared.

The sirens sounds finally had light and vehicles to match them too, the fireman spilling out of the red trucks like clowns in a circus. Ambulances followed quickly behind, and the entire area was shortly covered in mortals. The flames waged war with the water from the hoses and the sounds of exploding ice could be heard over the roar and crackle of fire. Police and paramedics began corralling the survivors, trying to catch, triage, and interview each victim before they passed out or slipped away into the night.

Click to reveal..

This is the end of the first plot thread for changeling. I'll leave this thread open until April 30th; feel free to post, there are dozens of police, firemen, EMT's, humans and changelings about. Drop me a PM if you want me to play an NPC to interact with, but otherwise feel free to wrap up your PC's interactions here and go on to fics. A new plot thread should be up by the end of the month.

[Adam]

"Shhh," he murmured softly, gently stroking a lock of her hair away out of her eyes while he still cradled her gently in his powerful arm. His smile was warm and kind, a bright ray in a otherwise bleak and dismal event. "I should get you home, just try and get some rest. You are safe now."

Like the giant he was, the Troll known only as 'Adam' stepped through the throngs of escapees, both mortal and changeling alike. Each step seemed to rumble softly in the ears of his brethren as if his very step shook the earth underfoot. Still cradling Stephanie he approached Goldscale amidst of the chaos.

"I have a ward whose injuries I must tend to." He said calmly like the night's events did nothing to shake him while deep inside the fired of rage burned. He calm and casual, like the military veteran most believed him to be. "Assess the damages, to both our people and our resources. Send your emissary to me and come the morning we shall meet to discuss how best to deal with the cowardice that claimed innocent lives this eve. Blood calls out for blood and the rivers shall run red for this act of treachery."

He lowered his head and looked at the weakened young woman in his arms. "I must take my leave, farewell."

[z-Stephanie]

Stephanie was still and quiet in Adam's arms. She still couldn't hear much and she was still dazed, but she could feel him talking though the deep vibrations in his chest. Between that and his powerful heartbeat, pounding in her ears, she felt as safe as she ever had.

Had she been coherent, she would have been in fervent agreement with Adam. Their blood had been split and it was time to return the favor. Her body may not have physically been up to the task, but her mind would be more than ready.

For tonight, she let Adam treat her like a child. She didn't have the strength to protest, or the willpower to deny that she was enjoying it a little. She nestled her face against his broad chest and relaxed into his arms.

[The Story Guide]

5 xp!