THE ART OF PLEASURING IS THE ART OF DECEPTION
Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo
♟Job Information
Oh it had such a sweet name, clover town, sweet meadows of happy little clovers and flowers, little children frolicking around and spreading their infectious thoughts. Yet there would be no meadows where she was visiting, nor would there be any children, for this was an establishment for adults and those who are mature. Clover town, it appeared so perfect at times, a quaint little town which was built up by the strength of heroes past, both mages and more mundane livestock whom had been considered to be the prime of their flocks gathered in one place to rest and retire. Growing old, surely that was something which would be considered unnecessary by the great ones who ruled from above. This little town built by those old and aged, yet the term age was not one she associated with that of wine. Not in a good way, it made her think of useless things, objects gathered with no purpose other than to gather dust, surely it would be best to remove them.
Heels softly clicking against the cobbles as she skipped towards the building which appeared so typical of those in the trade with its eon lights and signage that hinted at a fun night for the lonely. Hair trailed behind her, its soft colour shimmering softly under the warming lights which brightened the streets with help from the moon's rays cast down from above, wind picked it up, playing with the pigtails and curling them around. Perhaps she looked like one of those folk, short skirt and long socks, smooth socks with the tops of them having just a hit of blue the entire outfit tied together nicely, gloves and socks matching the colours even complimenting the hues of eyes and hair. Certainly it was a outfit she was proud of, lavish amounts of bows, lace and hearts, just the sort of thing which attracted those below her like moths grasping onto any flicker of light. Revealing enough skin to be alluring yet hiding some so that it always kept the suitors craving more. It did appear quite frilly her attire, lace and frills surrounded by the shapes of hearts and roses, whilst others waiting on street corners were smothered in makeup and sin the female knew that she would rise above the rest, partially in her actual form, the two were mixed with human ears and a tail poked through, embellishing her features with a soft cuteness. It was a style she knew well how to pull off, and oh how they fell for it, the foolish way that those male homosapiens, mages and farmers alike tripping over their skirts to bow down at the feet of woman who layered themselves in the shiniest or sparkliest clothes, skimping of fabric and pushing up breasts, exaggerating height and accentuating curves. It was amusing almost, watching how when the sun fell from grace and the moon crawled its way back up that the lesser beings were dragged out into the world, trying their hardest to appear in a way that would be craved by the money distributing males.
This was a pen that she rather not visit, stuffed full of undesirables who thought that they could lay their hands across a being such as her despite merely having a similar appearance. Yet apparently this establishment held some citrus scents, smells of interest and amusement. This place had been told to her, whispers of a black market in the back rooms. Yet the world did not play around her in monochrome, nor was there a single reel playing. This could take multiple paths, there was no set outcome now that she held the information. Other than lounging on a street corner within sight of the energetic doorway she could only wait, for someone who appeared to be invested in the darkened business or perhaps another like herself, prodding around in other people's business with an additional party member would bring up the enjoyment, unpredictability made for the most enjoyable days.
Oh it had such a sweet name, clover town, sweet meadows of happy little clovers and flowers, little children frolicking around and spreading their infectious thoughts. Yet there would be no meadows where she was visiting, nor would there be any children, for this was an establishment for adults and those who are mature. Clover town, it appeared so perfect at times, a quaint little town which was built up by the strength of heroes past, both mages and more mundane livestock whom had been considered to be the prime of their flocks gathered in one place to rest and retire. Growing old, surely that was something which would be considered unnecessary by the great ones who ruled from above. This little town built by those old and aged, yet the term age was not one she associated with that of wine. Not in a good way, it made her think of useless things, objects gathered with no purpose other than to gather dust, surely it would be best to remove them.
Heels softly clicking against the cobbles as she skipped towards the building which appeared so typical of those in the trade with its eon lights and signage that hinted at a fun night for the lonely. Hair trailed behind her, its soft colour shimmering softly under the warming lights which brightened the streets with help from the moon's rays cast down from above, wind picked it up, playing with the pigtails and curling them around. Perhaps she looked like one of those folk, short skirt and long socks, smooth socks with the tops of them having just a hit of blue the entire outfit tied together nicely, gloves and socks matching the colours even complimenting the hues of eyes and hair. Certainly it was a outfit she was proud of, lavish amounts of bows, lace and hearts, just the sort of thing which attracted those below her like moths grasping onto any flicker of light. Revealing enough skin to be alluring yet hiding some so that it always kept the suitors craving more. It did appear quite frilly her attire, lace and frills surrounded by the shapes of hearts and roses, whilst others waiting on street corners were smothered in makeup and sin the female knew that she would rise above the rest, partially in her actual form, the two were mixed with human ears and a tail poked through, embellishing her features with a soft cuteness. It was a style she knew well how to pull off, and oh how they fell for it, the foolish way that those male homosapiens, mages and farmers alike tripping over their skirts to bow down at the feet of woman who layered themselves in the shiniest or sparkliest clothes, skimping of fabric and pushing up breasts, exaggerating height and accentuating curves. It was amusing almost, watching how when the sun fell from grace and the moon crawled its way back up that the lesser beings were dragged out into the world, trying their hardest to appear in a way that would be craved by the money distributing males.
This was a pen that she rather not visit, stuffed full of undesirables who thought that they could lay their hands across a being such as her despite merely having a similar appearance. Yet apparently this establishment held some citrus scents, smells of interest and amusement. This place had been told to her, whispers of a black market in the back rooms. Yet the world did not play around her in monochrome, nor was there a single reel playing. This could take multiple paths, there was no set outcome now that she held the information. Other than lounging on a street corner within sight of the energetic doorway she could only wait, for someone who appeared to be invested in the darkened business or perhaps another like herself, prodding around in other people's business with an additional party member would bring up the enjoyment, unpredictability made for the most enjoyable days.
669 ♟ 669/4,000 ♟ Attire