Music Is My Hot, Hot Sex [Solo]

[Elkeid]

Venturing outside of London to engage monsters or exorcise haunted yards was fine and all, but sometimes a gal had to sit and relax in a bar she didn't work at. That's exactly what Elkeid was doing now. After the little fiasco at her old "job," she had found less work to do around town. It wasn't like she minded too much, since it wasn't her real job outside of the game, but it would be nice to have a surefire way of making gold, and she could not fall back on her design skills. Although these little limitations irked her to no end, she did not fancy the idea of switching to a different subclass.

She swirled the green liquid in her glass around, not even comforted by her favorite drink. Her coin purse was a little too light for her tastes, and while it may have been easier to brew her own drinks, that still required her to buy the needed ingredients. Getting them for free was too much of a hassle. It was unusual for her to be melancholy, but days like these were some of her heavier drinking times - which she couldn't even do tonight. The woman sighed softly as she slowly brought the glass to her lips, and then placed it back down without tasting the green liquid within. It was funny; she had teased quite a few people for doing the same not so long ago.

Sometime after the third or forth time of doing this, Elk felt the small hairs on the back of her neck prick up. Someone was watching her. She lowered her glass to let it hover over the table as she coolly scanned the room for the admirer. The man made himself known with little shame, giving her a sly wink before lifting his glass in a celebratory gesture. Rather shooting him an unfriendly glare, Elk batted her eyelashes in his direction, and demurely shifted her gaze away after a moment. She knew all too well how this game was played; if she let him chat her up a bit, he would buy her a drink or two. Or, if he was shy, he would simply order her another drink and have it sent over by the bartender. Regardless of what the man did, she would be gifted a free drink. If there was something she loved more than drinks, it was free drinks.

The man turned out to be the bolder type, and began making his way over to her table, adapting a jaunty saunter. Coquettishness was easy enough for her to fake, as it was nothing more than playful teasing, the sort you expected from women in bars. Elkeid did not favor flings, though. While it seemed like something she would partake in because of how hard she made it for people to get close to her (she wasn't unaware of the rumors spread among some people, a few of them even friends), Elk was a woman with standards. Besides that, there were few people she could trust to be "soft" or vulnerable around. She wasn't made of hardwood all the time; she was still a woman with wants and needs.

'If I wasn't in a game right now, I would be considering settling down.' It wasn't the first time she had thought about it; it's just that she was not in a hurry before, and was still young enough to play the field a bit. She gave the man a false, playful smile and slight pucker of the lips. The man, a roguish sort with short, messy black hair wiggled his eyebrows in return. He didn't look like the kind you brought home to mother or had a serious relationship with, but she had no intentions of sharing his bed tonight. If given the option, she would probably go for the "safe" man - someone who was kind, reliable, sensitive, devoted...and knew more than his (or her) fair share of household chores; a devoted little housewife/husband, in other words. 'Blackcoat has those qualities.'

She had to divert her eyes and cover her mouth to hold back the soft snort of laughter. Blackcoat? Really? He was so...meek, but he also fit her standards. But Blackcoat was a few years younger than she was, and while the age gap wasn't large… "Are you going to drink that? If not, I may refrain from asking if I can buy you a drink."

"I plan on teasing myself a bit more before drinking it. 'There is no fulfillment that is not made sweeter for the prolonging of desire,'" she quoted. The man was confident, not dumb; there was little point in buying a woman a drink if she wasn't going to finish the one she'd bought for herself.

"Oh, absolutely." He was sitting beside her now, and leaning in a little close to share a conspiratorial whisper. "Even if it leaves you a little weak in the knees, and short of breath, until you're hanging onto the cusp and begging it to stop?" His breath disturbed the long strands of her hair, and what she assumed to be his fingers began stroking her knee.

Elkeid had half a mind to throw her drink in his face, but that would be a waste of perfectly good alcohol. Her eyes reflexively narrowed into slits for a moment, and then relaxed. The man didn't seem to notice, though she imagined that would have been hard, what when he was subtly peeking beneath her neckline. She lifted her glass and tilted it back once the salted rim was in her mouth. A sweet and sour mixture of green apple trickled into her mouth. The man took this opportunity to wrap his other arm around the seat of her chair. It was the typical male gesture of possession, and was sure to keep the less brave men at bay. 'If I don't get a free drink or two from you, I'm kicking you to the curb.' Literally.

"So - I don't think I've seen you around here before."

"Oh? How can you be so sure, unless you keep a tab on all the pretty ladies that come waltzing into this bar?" He wouldn't know that unless he was a regular -

"You'd be surprised by what a bartender does and doesn't notice."

- or bartender.

coded by benetnasch of ET

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[attr="class","alkaid"]

Words:
1061

Muse:
Music Is My Hot, Hot Sex

Notes:
Music is my dead end~.

Tags:
Elkeid

[Elkeid]

Well, well, wasn't this a surprise? Elkeid had played it cool, and allowed the man to reveal more about himself. He was a fellow Brewer of a much higher level; main class Sorcerer and rp class Courtesan. Elkeid chuckled softly at that, not caring how he took it now - which turned out to be surprisingly well, since he was now walking his fingers up her leg and asking about her classes. Her main class was obvious enough, but her subclasses weren't. She offered up her rp subclass readily enough, but fibbed and claimed to be an Artisan for her crafting class. Lying felt oddly necessary, and she was lucky that he did not get too curious.

When she downed her appletini, he treated her to another and another. The man seemed incredulous by how well she was holding down her liquor. If he only knew that she was a Brewer and had difficulty suffering from the inebriated status… Elkeid had to feign intoxication at some point, though, otherwise he would have gotten suspicious. At that time, the man - Falafel, his name was - offered to take her up to his room. The bar they were in doubled as an inn; nothing fancy, but it was good for a night's rest. He claimed that he had a new drink recipe he wanted to show her, which she didn't buy for a minute. 'You just want to have your way with me.' But hey - there may be something to this drink recipe, and she might learn something.

"I've been researching wine; nothing too ritzy, I'm afraid. It's simple red wine, because we've got to start low and work our way up, right?" He sounded incredibly sober in comparison to the false inebriation Elk was burdened with. This wasn't super shady at all or anything.

He led her into a tiny bachelor pad of a room, lined with crude paintings of women in various states of undress. Elk took a seat on the room's only bed, a drab little thing that wasn't as stiff as her bed in another inn, but nowhere near as comfortable as the four poster bed she had left behind in the "real" world. She was iffy on sitting on it, and longed to thoroughly go over the room with a black light. "So, what do you think?"

'That you shouldn't just leave your notes lying around,' she thought as her eyes zoomed in on the roll of parchment on his bedside table. There were a few others (including an unmarked bottle that gave her some cause for concern) laying about on the small desk in the corner. "It's cozy - quaint, even. What were you saying about your research…?"

Falafel just shrugged. "I used to work at my family's brewer before this happened. I wrote down what I could remember, but it mostly comes down to habit." He waved a hand through the air. "I'd much rather study you than some old family recipes, anyway~."

'I bet you would.' She stifled a yawn and shuffled to the side when he plopped down beside her. "I have a better idea." She gave the man a playful shove onto the bed. He stared up at her in confusion, then gave her a big, stupid grin. That dumb little grin grew dumber and dumber when she pulled his shirt open, spilling buttons everywhere. "Give me your shirt, please~." The man complied, now looking very content with himself.

"Woah - kinky," the fool exclaimed when she tore his shirt into strips, bound his wrists to the bedposts, and blindfolded him. After a few seconds of consideration, Elk decided a gag would also be appropriate. He was a total idiot, letting a woman (and stranger) he thought was drunk tie him up like this. Or was he just desperate? The stupid git was just lying there, expecting something "fantastic" to occur.

He was in for a world of hurt.

The bedsprings creaked as she climbed onto the bed and straddled his waist. Falafel gave a muffled giggle from beneath his gag. 'I'm not sorry for what I'm about to do.' She plucked the pillow from behind his head and held it just over the tip of his nose. If he knew what was about to happen, he did not show any sign of it. She gently lowered the pillow over his face, but only after the man started whimpering and tugging at his binds did she apply pressure.

If Elk had any regrets about this entire affair, they were centered on not tying down the man's feet along with his face and wrists. Once she really started depraving him of oxygen, the man bucked and kicked like a bull at one of those rodeos. "Shhh," she hissed. He groaned and yelped from under the pillow and gag, the latter she was glad to have applied before beginning. She pulled herself up to her knees and scooted forward, and then dropped her bum onto the man's chest, directing all of her weight into that spot. The man's cries and struggling died down as the remaining air from his lungs were forced to go upwards, where they were trapped in by the pillow. "Shhh~. Shush, dear, shush." Suffocation, apparently, did not count as combat - or it did, and the Royal Guard was slow to respond.

The monk leaned forward, driving the pillow as far into the man's face as she could get it. Falafel's fingers and knees twitched and jerked, but not much followed after that. Elkeid remained in position for another minute or so, before sitting back to admire her handiwork. The man wasn't moving at all, and did not stir when she cautiously removed the pillow. His eyes were gazing up into nothingness, and his body had gone limp. Elk flicked him on the forehead a few times to see if he was faking, but nothing contradictory revealed itself. 'Excellent.'

Without any further ado, Elk began ransacking the man's room, starting first with the roll of parchment on his bedside table, and then onto the desk. She didn't stop to read the notes; there was simply no time to do so. There was more paper in his desk, though those pages were all blank, so she left them on the desk and moved back to his "bubbling" corpse. All the man had on him were some tools and supplies - necessary ones, actually - and a large chunk of gold he was too foolish to store in the bank. 'It's mine, now~.' She left everything else - weapons and clothing - alone, though. Her fists and throwing knives were better suited for her class.

After making sure the door was locked tight, Elk stripped the blankets and sheets off the bed, and tied them together end to end. She tied one end of the blanket rope to the sturdiest thing in the room - the bed post closest to the window, and flung the length of the rope outside the window. It was roughly two A.M. in the morning, so most people would either be out hunting, or tucked safely in their beds. As an added measure, however, Elk tied a bit of cloth around her head, save her eyes, and slowly made her descent to the ground below.

coded by benetnasch of ET

[newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass]

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[attr="class","alkaid"]

Words:
1220

Muse:
Bulletproof

Notes:
This time baby, I'll be bulletproof~.

Tags:
Elkeid

[Elkeid]

It was clear to Elk that she could never come to this part of London again, unless she was ready to defend herself against one pissed off Sorcerer / Brewer / Courtesan. Being in a safe zone meant little in some cases, as she had just demonstrated. There was also no telling who the man had for friends, while her Friend's List was pathetically short. She had Hiro, Blackcoat and...was there more to that list? If not, Elk should definitely watch her back if she strayed into this area in the future. Blackcoat was a nice guy and all, but he wasn't cut out for altercations. No; this was her mess, and she would have to handle it on her own - for now. Never mind the fact that she had just "killed" a man; she knew that people could revive here.

Her next move was to find a secluded area far from here and the Cathedral. There was no real rush as of now, since Falafel would still need to revive and return, from an area that was a good thirty minute walk away. It was time to book it and get the hell out of dodge. 'But keep it casual,' she reminded herself as she began to jog away after her casual murder. She didn't know what the other scraps of paper consisted of, but for wine she would need grapes, and she only knew of one vineyard outside of London. Would Falafel be smart enough to assume that she would visit it?

That did not seem to be the case when she reached the vineyard. Over an hour had passed, but she still had a good while before the sun would rise. The woman glanced around as she stole onto the farm, immediately arming herself with a few empty burlap sacks. She had committed several crimes this night; what was one more? 'They have so many grapes, they may not even notice,' she thought as she moved along the rows, indiscriminately plucking bunches of grapes and storing them within her sacks. Her bags were close to bursting by the time she was done.

A small child was standing outside the farmhouse when she retreated, but did not move to raise an alarm. Perhaps he was afraid of her, since he was a mere Lander, and she an Adventurer who could end his life with a twist of her hands. That did not mean she felt comfortable dropping her guard, of course. For the rest of the trek back to London, Elkeid was constantly looking over her shoulder, though she grew subtle within the city's boundaries.

Safety and shelter for what remained of the night was essential, but Elk was wary of returning to her usual room at the inn she frequented. Her inn and Falafel's were on opposite ends, though she worried he would check every available inn and demand that she be handed over for compensation. Just the thought of not being able to return to what she considered her temporary home frustrated her beyond belief. In the end, she chose to break into a seemingly abandoned building for the night.

coded by benetnasch of ET

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[attr="class","alkaid"]

Words:
525

Muse:
The Middle

Notes:
Pew pew pew.

Tags:
Elkeid

[Elkeid]

Elkeid made her way to an empty warehouse on the outskirts of St. Pancras Station. It was where she usually went when she felt like practicing in private. No one - to her knowledge, anyway - used this building, and she had told no one of its existence. The woman stretched a bit as she stepped into the building. Most of what she needed was already here and readily accessible. Few of the tools would not be needed until after she had completed phase one, which included mashing the grapes into a fine pulp. That part seemed like the easiest to her.

First, she had to thoroughly clean the grapes of dirt and whatever pesticides they may have contained on the outside. She hummed to herself as she placed the first few bunches of grapes into a large pot of warm water. While they soaked, she rubbed and washed them, and separated the clean ones from the stems into an empty pot. When the dry pot was full, she transported the grapes into a large vat, perfect for stomping grapes in. That first pot of grapes looked tiny and lonesome in the vat, but soon the bottom of it was evenly lined with grapes. Washing and picking the grapes became a tedious tasked, but she was done sooner than she expected. The final pot placed the pile of grapes roughly at the halfway mark in the vat. 'Stomping grapes - this ought to be fun.' She was no stranger to grape stomping, but the last time was over five years ago, when she was participating in a contest while visiting Italy one year. While fun and messy, she managed to come in third place. It was almost a shame she did not have any competition this time around.

She spent a few more minutes cleaning her feet and shins before approaching the vat of grapes. The red grapes seemed to gaze back at her, the water she had used to cleanse them glistening prettily on their soft, outer shells. Elk plucked one from the vat and popped it into her mouth. It tasted as sweet as the others she had sampled while cleaning. It would taste even better once it was turned fermented and ready for tasting.

The woman suppressed a soft squeal as she carefully placed one foot into the mass of grapes. They felt cool to the touch, and tickled the sensitive skin on the bottom of her feet. A soft chuckle, with a hint of girlish mirth, escaped her lips as she planted both feet inside. She had laughed freely those four years ago, partly facilitated by her friends, who were the ones to talk her into participating in the contest in the first place. One of them had even tickled her when she tried to retain her usually cool demeanor. They probably had something to do with her third place positioning. Had she not been so giddy and into it, she would not have made it that far.

Elk glanced around the large room, feeling more than a bit nervous. She did not often let her hair down, so to speak, and always felt like a misbehaving child when someone caught her "acting out of character." It was only when she was alone or among close friends that she felt safe enough to really be herself. When you spent years trying to maintain a façade around most people, you had to be wary of slipups. She recalled how she was as a child, and shuddered. It was hard to believe that she had lacked so much confidence back then. 'Well, not that hard, I suppose.' When you were unable to differentiate verbal speech from other sounds, the world could seem like a confusing and frightening place. She had been so meek and sheltered at that age. How had she grown up into the woman she was now?

squelch squelch squelch

The grapes under her feet were slowly being worked into a gunky mess, until juice was finally running between her toes. It felt...very odd, but she couldn't stop. She shuffled around in the vat, crushing more grapes in the process. There was no one around who could trigger that same laughing fit he friends had caused, and reminiscing over her childhood was not helping to alleviate her mood at all. She was alone and making wine in a warehouse. It sure would have been nice to contact her small group of girlfriends for drinks later, but none of them played games, so they wouldn't be available. There was just Blackcoat and Hiro, and she was sure the latter wasn't old enough to drink yet. Blackcoat was, but he wasn't exactly the kind of drinking partner she was looking for. It was clear that she needed more female friends she could relax and bitch with.

"Be near me, be near me~" It was one of those 80's songs. She only knew the lyrics from reading along in time to the song. Because of her auditory agnosia, she could only focus on the instrumentals of music, though the vocals could be oddly mesmerizing, even if she had no idea what they were saying. It felt even stranger to hear herself singing - or what she assumed was singing, anyway. She was well aware (thanks to a few people) that she was tone death and her "singing" often sounded more like muttering, so she only did that when she was alone, like now. "What's your reputation? Ecstasy! What's your destination? Next to me!" She returned to humming as she danced around in the vat, imagining herself out in the middle of a ball room, waltzing with some faceless man. Beneath her feet, the grapes were being battered and forced into smaller chunks and a thick liquid. Only when she was near the end of her task did she stop to wonder how she was going to separate the juice from the chunks of fruit.

coded by benetnasch of ET

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[attr="class","alkaid"]

Words:
995

Muse:
Be Near Me

Notes:
Stomp~.

Tags:
Elkeid

[Elkeid]

That problem was solved a few minutes later, after she had lined the top of another vat with a mesh-like material, and fitted some cheesecloth over it. The vat that contained the juice and mushed up fruit was then gathered up (and boy, was it heavy), and carefully tipped over to spill the contents onto the makeshift strainer. Elk curled her tongue towards the corner of her cheek as she poured, still managing to get a bit of the juice onto her clothing. She probably should have worn an apron or something, but it was a little too late to worry about that now. At least she had had the presence of mind to roll up her sleeves to her knees and elbows before she had begun the grape stomping. She should be able to wash out the grape stains later.

The center of the cheesecloth and mesh combo gathered up a good bit of liquid, before draining downwards into the vat below. She waited until most of it was filtered, before pouring more and more. This straining process took a good few minutes or so, and by then her arms were fit to burst. She was not used to carrying around this much weight on a daily basis. 'Maybe I should hire someone to do all the heavy lifting for me.' It might have to be a Lander, though. She could pay them a lot less than an Adventurer.

Elk tossed the empty vat to the side, where it landed on its bottom with a low thud. She reached around the ends of the filtered vat of wine, and disentangled the cloth and mesh from it, folding it in the middle to prevent the grape remains from splattering onto her feet or in the filtered juice. The waste was transported to the discarded vat, and she returned to the other with a long, wooden spoon, leaving a trail of red tinged footsteps behind her.

She poked the spoon into the red liquid, poking and prodding for any chunks that may have wormed their way into the mix. She could find nothing, thankfully, and rewarded herself with a sip of the grape juice. "Mm. It's tart, but it's good." If she had a little sugar… Elk ran her tongue against her lips as she rose back to her full height, and peeked at the man's scribbled research notes.

Now that she was in motion, it all seemed pretty simple. She had to let this stuff ferment for a while, but to do that she would need a large container with a good lid. At first glance, there was nothing available - save for crates and vats. A second, more thorough search resulted in her locating and sterilizing a large barrel. Would she regret this later, when she had to actually bottle the wine? Maybe, but she was sure she could rig up a hose like contraption with a funnel to get the liquid out when it was done. It was something she could figure out later, or just hire someone into doing the harder work for her.

She did as instructed and poured several gallons of water into the barrel, before sprinkling in some betonite and adding the grape juice. Once that was taken care of, Elk added another gallon. Her arms were burning from having to hold the vat, so she wanted to die during the stirring process. She had no idea how a hydrometer worked, and after the fuss she made with the airlock, being accurate was the least of her priorities. This was her first time making wine, after all, so there was bound to be some issues. It was now time to allow the wine to ferment for a fortnight, which gave her plenty of time run other errands.

coded by benetnasch of ET

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[attr="class","alkaid"]

Words:
633

Muse:
Sussudio

Notes:
Su-su-sudio~.

Tags:
Elkeid

[Elkeid]

Those two weeks felt painfully long to Elk, who was beyond eager to try out her new research. Red wine was something she drank occasionally, originally for the health benefits, but fell out of daily practice with it. It had reminded her too much of the nanny that had decreed she drink a daily dosage of Ovaltine, a powdered milk beverage she had come to despise in those early months. As far as the young Faustine was concerned, the only drink that should be made from powdered "chocolate" was cocoa, and even then she only drank that after being out in the cold for an extended period of time, such as ski trips with her godfather in the Alps. She was rebellious in her own way, mostly by turning her back to Nanny and pretending like she wasn't there, which was easy to do when you couldn't tell the sounds of rushing water from an impatient woman's scolding.

Elkeid chuckled softly to herself at these memories. They had plagued her more than usual lately, especially during the times she came to check on her fermenting wine. She could almost hear (well, see, since the woman had used sign language once young Faustine could understand it) telling her to be more thorough in her work. Her ability to speak back then was not very good; all she could really manage was a bit of broken speech, since she mostly just growled when she was annoyed or angry. Hitting things or people came next, though that only occurred when she felt like no one understood her. In the wrong environment, she could have easily become feral. It was a sobering thought, and silenced her chuckling. 'Right. Time to get back to work.'

The little "adventures" she had gotten herself into lately were more than a little tiring. Relaxing and enjoying a nice, cool bottle of wine would be nice. She tested the wine one more time to ensure that the fermentation was done, and gave a soft sigh of relief when all signs showed up positive. Now came the hard part - getting the wine out of the barrel.

Falafel's notes had a fix for that, thankfully. He may not have started on the wine making process, but had written the instructions and recipe for even a novice to follow. 'I bet he was planning on marketing this to Brewers later.' She set the notes carefully on a nearby table, and then made her way about the large warehouse, searching for the tools she would need. It took her a good ten minutes, but she found something that could pass as a "carboy"; a large jug. She had to make the siphoning tool, though. This was basically end of a length of hose shoved into the stem-like section of a funnel.

Elkeid set the cleaned jug in front of the barrel of wine, and mixed together a small concoction to pour into the carboy, which was supposed to help the wine retain its coloring, but stop it from re-fermenting. After that was taken care of, she then began the siphoning process. However, there was so much left over in the barrel that she had to find another jug to siphon the rest into. It was a few minutes after setting the jugs up that she realized there were still a few more steps to go, and that it would take four more weeks before she could actually taste her wine. Elk wanted to slump over onto her side and groan. This was not how it was supposed to go. 'Four more weeks…' She could do this. She had to. 'Time to find some bottles, I guess.'

coded by benetnasch of ET

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Words:
614

Muse:
Bette Davis Eyes

Notes:
So...close...

Tags:
Elkeid

[Elkeid]

Four weeks. Four agonizing weeks. That was how long she was forced to wait before she could start the finishing steps on completing her research. Her research. Falafel would surely have something to say about that, if the hapless loser had the stones. Elkeid had actually run into him a week and some change ago. It was an unexpected surprise for the woman, who had shamelessly allowed herself to relax.

Falafel had spotted her first, outside of a small park, and ran up to her as if he had seen a ghost. Elk almost kicked the man in reflex, but remembered the Royal Guard before her foot could connect with the side of his scrawny neck. He had surprised her again by how easy it was to scare him off - that or he was too chicken shit to try anything within the safe area. "I'll kill you again if you come near me," she had growled. Maybe he would bring some goons with him the next time - if he dared.

"The message was perfectly clear." she sang as she stepped into the warehouse. A soft clinking sound filled the air as she set down the bottles she had collected for the bottling. Finding them had been a bit of a pain, but definitely worth the effort for what she would be able to experience in the next few hours.

First, she sweetened the wine with a special kind of sugar, followed by a sprinkling of potassium sorbate, and then went about filtering it before she began the bottling process. The filtering part was probably unnecessary, but she decided to play it safe and filter it regardless. These last few steps could absolutely not be screwed up. The thought of wasting all her effort for the past two months was horrifying.

As it turns out, the bottling process took a bit longer than expected. She had to be so meticulous about how much went into the bottles, and had to move them to a nearby table, where she prayed that they would not tip and spray their contents everywhere. The corking, however, was probably the worse part. She was tired and sore by this stage, and wanted to take a well deserved nap, but could not risk a fly landing on the bottles and causing the domino effect.

'No pain, no gain,' Elk thought as she corked the second to the last bottle with trembling fingers. Her back was crying out in pain, and she did not tease it any longer once that final bottle was corked. She fell back, right onto the cool, hard floor. 'So good…' The cooling sensation radiated up and down her spine, making her groan in relief. She turned her head to the side, and was greeted by a nice, tall drink of fermented grape juice. A single drop of wine glistened on the side of the bottle. Elk eyed that drop like a thirsty woman in a desert. She would have her taste, but not like this. Fine wine like this needed to be shared with friends. 'Soon…'

coded by benetnasch of ET

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[attr="class","alkaid"]

Words:
515

Muse:
Be Near Me

Notes:
Ding, wine is done~.

Tags:
Elkeid