Of course, I don't pretend that it hadn't crossed my mind earlier. A woman is entitled to window shop. Nevertheless, the first time I seriously considered the possibility that I might be falling for Lord Suitov Iceheart was when we were all double-wrapped in yak hides crossing the Premolar Mountains and he cracked a joke about daffodils.

That's something Suitov does a lot. I suspect the idea is to cheer me up and make me forget how far I am from home. Among the many things that surprised me about Suitov is how he doesn't mind looking goofy if it'll put a woman at ease. Most 'aristocrats' I've known are obsessed more than anything with being dignified at all times and, to tell you the truth, I'm not used to hearing lofty lords joking around.

Or, indeed, asking my opinion. That's another thing. When most men say "what do you think?", they generally want you to back them up. When Suitov asks, the intonation is different -- he wants to know. And he listens. Even when he's being told he's wrong. If he wasn't so obviously a man in other ways, I don't know...

I think what finally made me feel comfortable with Suitov was, well, the flipside of what made me uneasy to begin with. He didn't want anything from me. The door-opening, the compliments, the random thoughtful presents, for heaven's sake: the obvious thought, to me anyway, was that he wanted to get into my pants. After a while I realised none of it's aimed at impressing people. He just actually is like that.

Maybe it's upbringing. Whatever it is, it's damned attractive. That's the conclusion I came to, two thirds of the way up those mountains, and I'm sticking to it.

Now all I need to do is find a way into his pants. Perhaps I'll buy him a book...

---

Yeah. I'd be interested to see who you think our narrator here is.

Why are canon ships not popular? I think it's a shame!

Don't tell anyone, but I could get in a leeeeetle trouble for posting this one. Bones doesn't like unauthorised translations, but seeing as only 18 people in the multiverse speak Untwanga, one is a heron and three of them don't do much more than grunt... well, I did my best.

Alisander is her hero,
Lovely strong-armed Alic, tawny.
Naked now he stands before her,
Naked now she stands before him,
Naked next to one another.
Bronzed and oiled, his chest is moving,
Moving in the sultry morning,
Stirring breath inside her, stirring;
Paraskive finds him lovely;
Brown-skinned Alic, tawny, hero.

"My total bad" Müttly Föe gasped concernedly because he was concerned. "I am so sorry Morty, is your neck ok. There must have been more blood than I thought in that Bloody Mary body paint of yours because I lost control."

"Quite. Think nothing of it actually I enjoyed it." Valdemar Assured him. He purred and nibbled Müttly Föe's neck so there were obviously no hard feelings remaining, although give him half an hour and he could probably manage another round.

Valdemar added "Besides I knew you were a vampire (half) beforehand because you insist on telling everyone you meet."

"That is all right then" sighed Müttly Föe who was relieved it was all right.

"When you get leathered enough Val, you enjoy anything," Felix smirked while picking up his underpants from the floor with a foot, "believe me Föe tonight was positively tame compared to what he gets up to. The number of times I've had to magic some nasty rash off his..."

"That's enough Felix!" Shouted Valdemar as soon as he stopped choking on his vodka and Red Bull.

"Well that was fun but I'm still completely mashed." Contemplated Felix. "I know, I have some parchment here. If Föe here can control himself for five minutes"

"I said I was sorry!" Whined Müttly Föe manfully.

"Fine, so as I was saying, let's open a vein each and sign some kind of crazy blood pact we'll all really regret in the morning."

"OK!" Valdemar beamed.

"You know me, I'm up for anything," Müttly Föe stated.

"What do you say we all agree to embark on a triune Ascendancy and become gods?" Felix suggested with a boozy leer.

"OK!" Valdemar reiterated, even managing to slur it a little despite there not being any sibilants

"Ah. I'll have to pass on that, I don't normally tell most people but actually I'm already secretly a demigod (half)," admitted Müttly Föe, "good luck with that though, you two should go ahead."

"You heard the man Felix, write up that pact!" Valdemar boomed and waved his glass for emphasis and then gave the room a view of his naked butt as he fished around on the floor for an escaped ice cube.

"I'd worship him, anyway," reflected Müttly Föe reflectively.

Felix snorted and threw a pillow at Valdemar's rear end.

He laughed, teeth and tongue and jaws. "On a hot summer night," he said, "would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?"

"Wolf?" said Mitzie, flattening her ears and growling worriedly.

Basaltine sighed. "No wolf. Hypothetical wolf," he said.

"Hate wolves. Chase 'em off."

"Yeah, very good, Mitz." Sheesh. It was just as well he was head over heels for the bitch. She wasn't all that bright.

"Yes, I am saying I'd never guessed." Jaina folded her arms across her chest. The interesting things that did to the swell of her breasts, along with the touch of pique in her voice, stirred yet more of those feelings that he couldn't fully understand.

"Come on, Jade. I thought you knew, that's all. You kept making those backhanded comments about me being jealous."

"Yeah, of me! Jealous of me. I'd have never thought you were jealous of..." She caught his eye. "Of him. Of Ice."

"More fool you. And lucky Ice... yet again. Always lucky. Looks, loot and ladies, right? What more could you want in a man?" So why are you here, miss tall and red avenger? Why here, with me?

"Why don't you tell me, Weft? What can you offer that Suitov can't?"

He let his eyes wander down her long legs while he figured out what to say. Those long, muscled legs in her ripped jeans. On second thought, that wasn't helping. He looked towards the door instead. Then back to her. Jaina's eyes were... he'd found them horribly tacky at first, but when you looked into them, really looked, you could... He pulled himself together, yet again. Was it just him or was it getting hot in here?

"For a start," he said, "I can mend that slash in your jeans." Of course, you'll have to take them off first. "After that, well, I guess we'll see." If there was a cleverer line, he couldn't think of it. That had always been Suitov's arena too.

Jaina ran her left hand over the taut denim, almost shyly. "I think I'd like that," she said.

---

Rewritten because Jainey didn't like being the... initiator. Lady's prerogative, right, boys?

Jaina closed the distance between them with two quick strides. Swiftly, she leaned down, slipped a hand behind his head and crushed her lips passionately against his.

Weft squeaked in surprise. For a second it seemed that his eyes would flutter closed; then he squirmed inhumanly out of her grasp and staggered backwards. It was the only time she'd seen him move clumsily.

"Um," croaked Weft, swallowed a couple of times and tried again. "Don't think I haven't thought about it. But I... can't."

Jaina smiled the smile of a predat oh shit Weft coming must close laptop seeya soon darlings x ^_^

The spreadeagled monk was beginning to return to wakefulness. Sylvie leaned over him just long enough to check his pupils were reacting normally.

What was 'normal' with this guy, anyway?

His four limbs twitched just once, finding themselves thoroughly immobilised by the woody vines she'd grown in a hurry, and he looked at her. "I take it I failed," Weft said steadily.

"You could say that," Sylvie replied, and sighed. "Is it worth asking why you tried to kill me?"

"I was told to."

"Simple as that?"

"Simple as that."

"Right." It would be wrong to say she was developing a headache; Sylvie had been nurturing this one all morning, beginning with the loud alarm shrieks from her little two-headed companion, who had flown off to chase a brown-and-white magpie and hadn't been seen since, and growing worse as the sun came above the gorse and heather to shine in her eyes.

Being almost assassinated hadn't exactly helped matters, though. And now...

Not knowing what else to do, Sylvie put her meagre camp in order. She left until last the overshirt, trousers, belt and shoes she'd removed from her would-be murderer while he was unconscious. She didn't really want to touch them. Far too many ways to get cut.

Weft had noticed, of course he had, that he was stripped down to his undershirt and shorts. Sylvie still wasn't sure she'd removed all the weapons, but she'd wanted to leave him some dignity. Besides, she'd gummed his fingers together as an extra precaution. With any luck, he wouldn't get out of her little trap before she was long gone.

A nagging thought recurred to her and she turned back to the restrained assassin. "You know, one thing I have been wondering. Surely your superiors know you're," choose words carefully, now, "friends with Sebastian. Weren't they worried you'd warn him?"

"Or you directly?" he added. He seemed resigned. "No. I couldn't, even if I'd wanted to. Which I - did, very much."

Sylvie folded her arms and looked at him in case he'd elaborate.

"And if you're wondering, no, I wasn't slacking off or going easy on you. I made a genuine error, your magic was too good, you got me fair and square."

Except that it was completely by chance. It didn't bear thinking about. If she hadn't set up those silent alarms in case another wild stag came blundering by...

"Actually," Sylvie said, "I was wondering why you were sent in particular, instead of someone with no... emotional involvement in the case. Their cruel joke at the victim's expense, perhaps?" She didn't really think so, but... no, actually she wouldn't put much past these people. Not given the way Suitov talked about them.

"I don't think they think like that. More likely they were punishing me," Weft said matter-of-factly.

Sylvie raised an eyebrow. "For?"

"Take your pick. I'm a pretty lousy botcher, always making mistakes. I deserve it."

"Is that so?"

"Come off it, Sylvie. I just tried to kill you! I would think you'd at least agree with that one."

Sylvie shrugged and turned away. Give him time to stew. She had the strong feeling that now was an opportunity to get some answers she wouldn't normally hear.

Besides, she had a lithe, pliant and scantily-clad visitor tied up and he'd just said he deserved to be punished. Sylvie always did her best to be accommodating.

gunnymimi hon, do you prefer het? ^^;

Because Eche wrote the cutest Sebbie/Sylvie silly!fic. It had us in stitches at EmpMyst. I'll find the link if you like...

"I am not gay," the emerald-eyed half-elf declared for the fifteenth time.

"Have I said you were?" responded the human with a shake of his head, causing his dark hair to flick around his shoulders. Try as he might have been to pay attention to Sebastian, his cloudy grey eyes kept straying back to his book, like a teething puppy trying not to think of slippers.

Sebastian continued to fidget and move around, his silver hair dancing around him like the ghost of a waterfall. He picked up the jade carving he'd 'rescued' from the Lost Temple of Hla'Llugh in the dark elven kingdom of Vent'Demain and began tossing it up and down.

Finally he burst out with "Just because we dallied, that does not mean I like men. Is that clear?"

"For the record, neither do I," Suitov put in, toying briefly with the edge of a page before turning it.

"Furthermore," said Sebastian.

"Yes?" The human mage gave up and closed the book. But he kept his place with a finger.

"Moreover and furthermore."

"Yes...?"

The half-elf sat down abruptly on the end of the bed and briefly flashed his gigawatt smile. "I think it would be just as well if word of this never reached Sylvie's ears. Or Jaina's. Or indeed, goddess bless him, Weft."

"I wasn't planning to mention it to them."

Those words abstracted Iceheart's attention abruptly from the winter landscape outside the window.

"My dear friend," he began, addressing the assassin who was currently wrapped in his arms and gently purring.

"Mm?" enunciated Weft, too warm and comfortable to move.

"When I agreed to sleep with you..."

"Mmmmm."

"...which you convinced me was the only way to save the dragons' lives..."

"Oh," said Weft, "yeah, the dragons, yeah. Only way."

"I don't recall marriage being mentioned at any point."

Weft opened his eyes and leaned back a little. He gave Iceheart a narrow look. Then he chuckled. "You're such a kidder, Rigey. A one-night stand? Really, what sort of boy do you think I am?"

This is purely to remind Mutt that posting SOMETHING is more important than being perfect.

"OMG," said Weft, "I am so hot today." He took off his conservatively cut bubblegum pink sweater and twirled it teasingly.

"Yes, yes you are," leered Müttly Föe, applauding.

"Shut up. This is supposed to be a stakeout," Weft told him.

"I came out centuries ago. Are you going to stake me?" asked Müttly Föe honestly and euphemistically.

"Keep your brain on duty," snapped the monk.

"That is hard when the blood is rushing elsewhere," the half-vampire said. "Aww, no," he added, disappointedly watching Weft wriggle into a black turtleneck.

Some day he would ask about those scars across the assassin's abs. He had a feeling there was a dramatic and potentially hawt story behind them. There certainly was for all of Müttly Föe's scars, which he did not need to keep because he had a healing factor and cellular regeneration, but he kept them to remind him and also for the coolness factor.

"Is there any sign of movement?"

"Oh right, the target." Müttly Föe squinted across the dock. The windows of the houseboat were darkened and the curtains were drawn. The curtains were yellow with a pattern that looked sort of like abstract feathers or ribbons. "No there is no sign of movement. You realise I could just stop time and use the Force and then..."

"Shut up. My assignment, my rules." Weft's hand found the back of Müttly Föe's neck. In an instant he dug a thumbnail into a pressure point to remind the vampire who was boss.

"I can tell it is going to be hard work getting into your pants," Müttly Föe said appreciatively.

"You're a size 10. You wouldn't fit."

The Empousan Mysteries girls have all been giggling at these!

Succubus sightings?
Succubus sightings #2

Succubi in a web manga!

Yes, there is a very simple Wiccan ritual to get rid of me, you know. Don't forget the salt!

The Champion Ship at Emp Myst is almost over. It's been hectic, but we're almost to our overall target. ^_^ Evie and Eche came up with something... well, I don't want to spoiler it before you read it...

HE IS SO GULLIBLE.

I mean, technically it's all true, but I may have exaggerated the numbers of 'shippers slightly.

Personally... so completely over the Webbie pairing. It was cool a few years ago when nobody was doing it. Now - practically canon anyway and everyone's on board ship. (Jexely is still <3 though and I have a guilty soft spot for SebRiccy. I might upload some more of those.)

Recently, and I KNOW I keep going on about it, but Laffweffa - so obvious! I can't see why anyone else doesn't see it! And it's het for a change ^^

:O

This proves it. They can't deny it now. It's CANON.