Parties are for Losers.

Diplomat Shar-lei was bored. Forced to leave the bindings full of numbers that always eased her troubled mind, she was required to come to this event where her best friend was getting mated to their long time lover. Urgh. Not that her best friend was not important, just that the relationship had been going so long that the ceremony, and the mating were just more an excuse for a party at this point. And she had another diplomatic duty later this week - another party for a visiting guest from Gracetown, someone's grandmother or something - she'd check Br1n later to see what was on with that one.   Chrissium had asked Shar-lei to wear something dress-like, she wanted all the ones gathering to support her in pretty flowing dresses or robes; men, women, enbies, all had to be swishy swishy to suit Chrissium's tastes. Shar had found in the back of her storage a dress from the last dignitary that had asked for an outfit and had the thing mended by the tailor Mr Kaito, who had grown soft green patches into the gaps and holes of this diaphromous green-yellow dress that hung delicately off her slight pale green body.   She'd poked her ribs unkindly when putting the dress on, the fact that she was getting less sleep and less time to eat had her a touch on edge, and the knowledge of the upcoming crowd has her twitchy. Bangles jingle on her anklets as she taps a foot, waiting for the person who would allow her to enter the party and get it over with faster. Her face shows a passive disinterest, feigning superiority even as her heart races with anxiety.   "See anything you like/crave, Diplomat/respect?" The voice behind her is stone-laden, like stepping on crunching leaves as the bulk of the presence blocks the sunlight warming down her backless dress and spine. She barely turns her head as to confirm that who is speaking is who she suspects.   The demons of the camp of Lady Hublesstone had sent her a series of guards since she had made their way to their camp to deliver a gift from Natare of bindings on the nature of Levis so that this sect of demons would have better luck integrating with the culture than Xylos had with his raiders and pirates. But Shar had forgotten that her travel times had matched up with a time that a certain breed of hunting marsupial liked to begin storing food for the wet season - and scouts for the camp had found her fending off the marsupial with one of the larger bindings. Hence the guards sent in good natured teasing.   "I am too far away from the food to know what they are serving." she says cooly, a little confusion creeping into her voice.   "That is not/incorrect what I meant/confusion. I was teasing/joyful about your desire/unrequited." Her demon guard is tall, her skin the cracked red of the iron demon but painted in a pink blush all over, barely covering scarred tattoos that talk of her many victories. Iron spikes push from her skin, polished to a gleam and kept immaculate.   Shar cannot help but smile at her guard's look, in that armor the demons like to wear, atop a plunging pink dress, a massive expanse of open throat painted more of that staining pink as latered skirts above shining greaves make the part. "What is your name?" Shar teases her guard, even as she craves to know.   "I am Tholrem. You cannot/doubt be interested/desire in me?" There seems a glow along her collarbone and along her arms and Shar has a little thrill that her tease produced results. Still herface stays neutral and cold.   "Mayhaps, but I was asking so that I would know who I was gossiping with." She watches Tholrem for reaction, and is a little saddened when she sees the glow fade and Tholrem's posture curl in on itself. She rests a hand on one of the elbow spikes, leaving faint traces of finger marks there even as polishing wax finds its way back in the gentlest of transference. "Come, let us find pretty ladies to watch."   Her guard seems to relax and Shar holds back a giggle as Tholrem mutters "How/teasing can I look/admire other ladies when such/quality beauty is beside/with me/possessive?" her voice is so soft that Shar is certain she is practicing the pickup line to herself.   They trail the edge of the ceremony, catching delicate jugs of bubbling mead, Tholrem a step behind as Shar-lie. Shar moves with confidence here, while the demon trails, her aura hidden mostly behind the armor that marks her as exotic and foreign to mages and socialites and the big movers and shakers of the city. Shar keeps glancing to Thol, breaking the aloof mask to give reassuring smiles as she talks about how each guest knows the host, or the latest gossip that she might share.   "Your city/chaos is filled with fun/fear dynamics. Where/respect do you/compliment fit in?" Thol's hand moves to the bare small of Shar's back, making her shiver in delight as she leans into the touch, knowing it is to support Shar on this delicate step they have stopped on.   "I am the bond between the city and its guests. That used to be a stay in the city job, with missives sent on the trade route to pass information out to those who might come by, but with so many new developments, I have had to take a more hands on task with demons and the like. Luckily I have not become diplomat of human matters."   Thol taps a finger idly on that bare back with a smile. "Every/often moment I am in the city/community I hear more stories/fact about the humans/threat coming exposed/risky, was makeup/deception all that was needed/doubt to hide them? I still/tease look like me/proud." Thol motions to all the pink, and Shar gives a deep grin, the outfit lovely but deliberately non-threatening and she wonders who set Tholrem up in this garb. She gives Thol a non-commital shrug before they start up again, the demon's questioning eyes unanswered.   Returning to the matter of pretty ladies they move now in sync, side by side as they sway and weave through the crowd. They stop from time to time to whisper to each other, mentioning a lady in a tight corset here, or a woman with delicate nails and winged eyes there.   "Have you ever dated one of your demon ladies, miss Tholrem?" Shar teases, that shoulder spike a mess of fingerprints and a steady glow on the demon's chest.   The demon looks down, her gaze shying away from the foliad diplomat entreating her. "I seek/desire a softer touch/feel. My own/kin feel like hugging/intimacy mining tools/derision/disappointed."   Shar looks at Tholrem, sliding her hand from iron shard to the inside of her elbow. "Maybe we can find you a pretty mage to date. They always keep themselves so delicate." There's part of her that feels disappointment in herself, the demon seems slightly into her and chatting and flirting has been so easy, but she should be a diplomat, should encourage relationships between Natare and the demon folk and not fall to her own selfish desires.   "I might/concession be open/polite to that." She watches the demon chew her lip as the speeches start, hollow platitudes that describe how long people think this union will last, pretending that it is not already twice-bound chord.   Tholrem pulls away gently and heads towards an alcove that has been grown between their party space and the rest of the city, where those traded to organise the event can leave equipment before it is needed. She just seems like she needs some space.   But Shar cannot leave this one alone and follows. Shar catches the demon rubbing the pink from her exposed arms, smearing free to reveal the vibrant orange-red that she naturally is. The colour is striking and blows Shar away in a primal majesty.   "You are beautiful." Shar says, a little too loud for this space, and Thol turns with a look of confusion and betrayal on her face.   "Do not mess with me, Shar." it seems to take all her effort not to subvocalize and Shar uses that moment of concentration to close the gap. Shar smiles hopefully at Thol, cupping her chin.   "It was cruel of me to deny the chemistry between us while trying to enjoy your friendship. Or at least I should have not encouraged your flirting." Shar moves into Thol's space, even as the ceremony continues behind them and the world swirls around outside the archway. This moment feels so fleeting to Shar and the world so big, that she has to steal some of this for herself else be left aching. "Let me kiss you. Let us dance tonight and tomorrow we think about what this means."   If the glow on Tholrem's chest had been bright under the pink, it was an inferno now, spreading down to her arms and creeping towards those curled horns as she just nods, reaching for Shar's ears to rub a calloused thumb along them. They lean close, nose to nose or at least as nose to nose as they can manage, "Last chance to stop me." Shar chuckles, pressing in slightly. Thol just slides those skilled hands down and grabs all that flat ass, pulling two bodies who want to share the same space into a messy, hungry kiss. Neither of them seems to know what they are doing, but both show the enthusiasm of ladies who are giving into feelings that have been building all night.   They move together as mouths mash and there's a little stumble as they bump into the walls of the alcove, Shar wincing as a splinter of bark pushes into her elbow, but she pushes her bare feet off the wall, launching herself back into this chaotic kiss. The women collapse to the floor, laughing and smiling and resting on and around each other, Thol gaining a split lip somewhere along the line and pink makeup smeared everywhere. Shar gets up and Thol breathlessly motions for the diplomat to turn around. She tries dusting the makeup off the flat ass of that dress but Shar waves her off after a moment.   "The mead has been flowing for some time now, if anyone cares that you and I are... an item, they have so few problems that I'm sure we can introduce them to some." There's a madness in Shar's eyes, a desire to go tell the perfect world to go stuff itself. She preferred her bindings of numbers to the chaos of the pointless socialisation, and now floated by the sensation of having this glorious demon woman on the ground, looking up at her with lust and the start of something more...   She offers Thol a hand, pulling her up and leading her back to the dancefloor. The pair shining like glowing vines, especially with Thol's glowing blush across her chest, and how it shines off of the moss patches on Shar's shiny dress. They were two ladies, living and loving in the city of knowledge. And as they moved and laughed and just lost themselves a little, Shar just had to wonder - maybe parties would suck a little less in the future.  

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  Should Shar-lie and Tholrem return in future stories?