Blood red nails on her fingertips

[interjection]

Sex & Magic ❝ A witch’s sexuality was essential to her enigmatic power, abhorrent corruption and her menacing allure. ❞ ❝ Sex magic (or sexual magic or sex magick) is a term used for various types of sexual activity used in magical, theurgical or other religious and spiritual pursuits. It is based on the premise that sexual energy or libido (and the release of sexual energy through orgasm) is the human organism’s most potent force, and that harnessing it through sexual activity provides an experiential conduit for the transcendence of reality. The level of energy generated by sexual arousal is claimed by its practitioners to create very powerful magic. ❞ As far as the roll of the dice of fate can fall, you could have scored worse: you're a witch (or wizard, magician, mage, what have you), and power flows through your veins. Still, before you can use this ability or don your black hat, you must pay the carnal price of this world, no matter your personal feelings on the matter. Fortunately, sex is plentiful for those who need to craft their spellwork. You might as well enjoy what you do. RULES Comment with your character, canon, info, prefs, and etc. Reply to others. Thread! PROMPTS Sole Practicioner: People may view you as a mystery or the town eccentric, yet you never want for the needed supplies. Coven: You live together, protect the old ways, and practice your art. Familiar: In possession of one or being one - always ready to serve your master. Dark Arts: Consent isn't needed for your selection of spells. Summoning: Be careful what kind of spirit or demon your lust may call forth. Witch Hunter: Supposedly, you're the one taking out witches, only you may just have been caught up in their snares. Willing Sacrifice: In order to curry favor, you've offered your body up to a magic user. Normal: So, your girlfriend or boyfriend is a witch and you're not. Do you know? How will you feel if you find out?

Comments

anders | dragon age | ota

[mewnifestos]

[ mage. he's also a healer, so magic healing sex is pretty much a given. also interested in magic-users sharing power, witch/witch hunter, or witch/familiar, spirit, etc. AU + crosscanon both cool.

no non/dub-con, dark arts, or demons. ]

[fireandhoney]

[Finn here is a mage, though healing is the one school of magic he's not very good at. So, maybe something with power sharing with these two?]

[mewnifestos]

[ wow finn don't you know restoration is a perfectly valid school of magic??

obviously he could use some help. i'm also fine with AUing into skyrim, if college mage/follower anders works for you. ]

[fireandhoney]

[Works for me! Let me know if anything needs changing.]

If one needed a fireball or lightning thrown at someone, or a spell of bravery or water breathing, Finn was your elf. Healing, though, that was something that always escaped him. Perhaps he just didn't have the aptitude for it, or something about it was just harder for him to learn.

Hence why he'd asked Anders to follow him around for a while. Might as well call upon the best healer in the College.

Winterhold was always much too cold for Finn, which probably came with being a Dunmer. What he wouldn't give for a dip in the hot springs right about now. The elf sat at a table in the tavern, across from his blonde companion, looking down at a map.

"Have I ever mentioned that Dunmer don't like the cold very much?"

[mewnifestos]

Across from him, Anders has been sorting through the largest of the satchels on his belt, occasionally jotting something down on the small scrap of parchment also set out in front of him, on his side of the table. But any opportunity to get out of the College is also an opportunity to replenish his personal store of rarer ingredients (as if anything but snowberries isn't rare, by nature, in Winterhold). And doubly so, on the sort of jaunts Finn always seems to need him for.

Anders has also been watching Finn's perusal of that map very closely, out of the corner of his eye, on that note— Because it pays at least as much to have some forewarning of what sort of ill-advised adventure they're going on, this time.

But he still manages to feign a sufficiently distracted tone of voice, when he answers that, yes, very familiar question.

"You may have mentioned it, once or twice." Or a lot more than that, but who's keeping track? The corner of his mouth quirks upward in the suggestion of a smile. "You could have just taken a seat closer to the fire, you know."

[fireandhoney]

Finn's red eyes glance up at Anders, his face lacking expression. "Yes, well, that big Nord sitting there looks like he wants to pick at fight at any minute and I'd rather not get banned because I blew him through the wall."

Funny how big, burly warrior types underestimate the skinny elf with magic and the power to do things with his voice. One should never mess with someone who can light them on fire.

The Dunmer's grey finger taps the map, somewhere in the Whiterun region. "The artifact is somewhere in this area. We might get there faster by taking a few shortcuts, but the roads might be the safer option." He's still grateful that Anders agreed to come along. Good healers can be hard to find. "Taking the road still means possibly running into highwaymen or disgruntled necromancers." He looked back up from his map at Anders. "What does my favorite healer in all of Skyrim think?"

[mewnifestos]

Anders sets the quill between his fingers aside, as he turns to look a little less than conspicuously back over his shoulder, toward the hearth. (But it's not like anyone's paying another couple of mages any special mind, in this particular tavern's shadowy interior. They're one table of at least three occupied solely by their ilk.) And there's still a hint of that wry amusement in his expression when he turns back.

"Oh, he doesn't look that scary. Shall I go and talk to him for you?" Obviously he's not serious. In spite of the fact that he looks quite a bit more like a native than, say, the elf sitting across from him, Anders is no more a Nord than the broomstick the barmaid is busy sweeping up with, and all he has to do is open his mouth to prove it.

And he's not any more interested in having the guard called on him for setting fire to the tavern. Even in self-defense.

And just where they're headed is a far more pertinent matter, anyway. Eyeing the map again, Anders nods absently. Whiterun. Not exactly the most perilous of journeys, this time, then. It's sort of a relief to think bandits and giants might be the only thing they'll be running from - at least once they get there.

"Well, now you're just flattering me." But, apparently it's working. "I'll take a few thieves with swords and a disgruntled conjurer or two over stumbling into an angry bear any day. I think the roads will get us there quickly enough."

[fireandhoney]

"That's okay. Not necessary," Finn knows Anders is only kidding, but it never hurts to affirm it. Even if Anders might not attract as much ire from the locals as a Dunmer would, the other mage doesn't exactly give an air of 'greetings fellow hard-livered warriors'. Seeing others accost his companion would be reason enough for Finn to start something that might get them banned anyway.

Finn rather likes Whiterun, though not as much as the southernmost parts of Skyrim, where the weather is more bearable to him and the scenery is prettier. On sunny days, one can see the giants herding their mammoths, or watch the fish in the ponds.

"It's only flattery when it's untrue," Finn quips. Then again, how many healers does he actually know? "I agree, though. I say we head out as soon as the snow slows down. Hope you wore your good boots today."

[mewnifestos]

Anders looks skeptical, at best, at that assertion. (But how many healers does Finn know? Restoration isn't exactly the flashiest school of magic. Most tend to eschew it in favor of something more powerful.) But he doesn't challenge it, either, simply shaking his head as he puts the stopper back on his inkwell.

"We'd be better off waiting for morning, in that case. It'll take us long enough to get out of the mountains, even without a veritable blizzard bearing down on us, and it's bound to be dark by then." And that's liable to be just as perilous as attempting to navigate the narrow, winding roads and sheer drop-offs in the wind and snow.

"You might as well make yourself at home here, for the night. I'm sure your artifact will remain right where some shambling corpse last saw it, either way."

[fireandhoney]

"Not to mention we'll actually be able to see any trouble wandering down from the mountain," Finn agrees. Trolls and other monsters tend to stay away from civilization, but sometimes they get lost in blizzards and wander close to the roads. The Dunmer also doesn't relish the idea of trudging through six feet of snow with the wind freezing his face off.

"You had to remind me of the shambling corpses?" Finn deadpans, though there's no ire or annoyance in his tone. The undead creep him out, with their rotted or mummified skin, and bones cracking with each step. The dead are not meant to be put to rest in ways they can easily get up from, thank you. Still, the undead aren't as bad as falmer.

"Well, I suppose you'll be going back up to your dorm, and I'll rent a room here for the night." Because why would Anders want to sleep in a tavern inn when the College is up the hill? Nor did he think it would be polite to impose on Anders.

[mewnifestos]

"You have to keep dragging me down into their dusty crypts?" Anders parrots back in the same tone, although not without a hint of sympathy. He's not especially fond of the walking dead, himself, but they're simply unavoidable, if you take more than two steps into any barrow in all of Skyrim.

Shuffling his quill and ink and the few dry clippings of berries and flowers that have spilled out back into his satchel, Anders takes another look around the barroom, though it's a decidedly less pointed gesture, this time.

"You're a mage. You'd be welcome in the College, yourself, if you'd prefer to save your coin," he offers, although a room at the Frozen Hearth is undoubtedly worth less than a pittance, still. "The Nords up there aren't quite as frightening, either."

[fireandhoney]

Finn gives gives a little smirk. "Touche," If it's not dusty burial crypts full of draugr, it's Dwemer ruins crawling with automatons or falmer. Or a vampire nest, or bandit hideout. The bandit hideouts are probably the least frightening, as far as Finn's concerned.

"Well, when you put it that way, how can I say no?" It would be nice to be surrounded by fellow mages, and the thick air of magic that he senses whenever he's up there. As opposed to the smell of alcohol and the sound of drunkards singing off-key to whatever song the bard chooses.

The Dunmer grabs his own pack and pulls his hood up, waiting for Anders before making his way to the tavern's front door. Even through the thick snowfall one can see the pillar of light that spouts up from the college. Like a guiding beacon.

[mewnifestos]

That beacon is a lucky thing, this evening. Even with the sun not yet near setting, the near uniform white of the mountainside blends with the whirling fog of snow streaking through the desolate little town, painting the air and the uneven ground in the same blinding pallet. It would be too easy to walk right off the side of a sheer cliff, stumbling through this - even with the added illumination of the Candlelight spell Anders casts over them as they step outside.

With or without the added peril of the snow and wind, though, the walk up to the College is one best taken attentively. The places where the bridge linking them to the village below has crumbled away, broken off, are easy enough to remember when you've walked this way at least twice a day for some years, but he crosses them cautiously, now, careful to point out where the stone walkway narrows down dangerously, or the guard wall falls away.

A small eternity later, the open courtyard looms before them, its high walls cutting away much of the wind and snow obscuring their path. And it's worth the walk, once they've stepped inside the College proper, the warmth of not just fires but every available, sustainable magic driving off the numbing chill in a matter of seconds. Anders shakes the snow from his hair, which the wind has more or less whipped out of its lazy half knot anyway, and gestures to the interior. "I trust you still remember your way around? I'll likely just turn in for the night, myself."

[fireandhoney]

Finn is careful with where he steps as he walks along with Anders to the College. Last thing he wants to do is walk off the stone bridge, or slip on some ice. He's thankful for Anders' guidance, keeping close to the other mage as the building gets ever closer.

Once inside, the Dunmer runs his hands through his hair, getting the snow out of it, the wetness making it seem to shine. Perhaps he should consider putting it in a short ponytail like his companion. He sighs with relief as the warmth fills him, taking his snow-coated cloak off. The feeling of being surrounded by so much magic gives him a feeling of belonging, like he's where he should be.

"I do. Though I think I'd rather just turn in for the night, too. Not really in the mood for being stopped so someone can turn me orange." The Dunmer makes his way to the dormitories, having been here enough times to at least know which rooms Anders sleeps in. Hopefully there's an unclaimed bed he can take for the night.

[mewnifestos]

"Or into a cow?" Anders tacks on with the same cheeky half-smile as before. Apprentices. Best avoided for one's health. And sense of self.

Following Finn back to the mages' quarters, Anders takes the lead only once they've come to his door, showing the both of them in. There are always empty beds - the College isn't exactly as popular now as it once was. But a little hospitality is the least Anders can offer, after that blustery hike.

His rooms are the same as always - a bit of a disaster. Socks and bits and pieces of robes scattered around the bed, stacks of books covering tables and stuffed into shelves, loose pages of notes ferreted away into drawers and tomes. The only neat corner of the room is the one bearing the small shrine of Mara, which is always neatly appointed and meticulously cared for.

Stepping around the room, Anders lights a few candles before going to the hearth, and starting the careless work of building a fire there, as well.

"I'm fairly certain the room next door has been vacant for a while, now, if you'd like to help yourself to it."

[fireandhoney]

Finn hangs his wet cloak on a nearby rack for now, so it can drip dry and not rot. Perhaps if he prays to an ancestor spirit hard enough he can keep his body on fire next time he goes trudging through the snow. "Still as messy as ever, hm?"

His small house in Whiterun isn't any better, really. He's constantly forgetting to put books away or clean up his work room. He too keeps his own little shrine, except his is in tribute to Azura. He also keeps a shrine to more taboo deities in his home away from home. Not that he would ever tell Anders that.

"Maybe in a bit. Hope you don't mind if I use your fire to warm up for a little while." The Dunmer kneels by the hearth to watch Anders. "You know, back when I was a kid I used to magically set myself just for fun. Made our human neighbors flip out." He's mostly making small talk.

[mewnifestos]

"Well I wasn't expecting guests." No more than he'd been expecting another blizzard to roll over the mountainside. Not that he would've cleaned up, either way, as habitually cluttered as any space he inhabits for long tends to become. But he might've thought of doing it, had he known he was going to have to spend some portion of the night entertaining.

If there's any genuine hint of defensiveness in his reply, though, or the brief look he shoots back over his shoulder, it's gone in the next moment, as he finishes piling on a fresh bit of firewood, kindling stuffed between the logs, and focuses instead on setting it all ablaze with a carefully applied bit of magic.

"You what?" There's an odd mix of disapproval and humor in Anders' tone - one that doesn't quite meld. But he'd never have dreamed of trying something like that, in his youth. And he certainly wouldn't waste the magicka, now. "They were Nords, I take it?"

[fireandhoney]

Finn puts his grey hands near the fire, feeling them start to warm up. He likes the heat, being a dark elf and all. He smiles as he feels the fire chase away the cold, getting his hands close enough that it looks like he might just stick his whole hands in there. But even Dunmer can get burned, so he doesn't.

"It's a Dunmer thing," As if that answers everything. "But yes, they were indeed Nords." Dunmer are the people of heat and fire, and Nords are the people of cold and ice, after all. "The way I see it, if an ancestor spirit doesn't appear before you and say not to do something, then you're good." He looks over at Anders, watching the firelight play across his features.

[mewnifestos]

"That explains so much about you." Or all the bad decisions, at least. But there's more amusement than politely horrified disapproval, this time.

Standing up from the hearth - the fire now burning merrily away on its own, with no magical assistance required - Anders crosses to the bed, setting aside an open book left carelessly face-down as he takes a seat to begin peeling out of his boots.

"While we're being hospitable," he offers, looking up without ceasing his practiced unbuckling, "I think there's a bottle of mead in the wardrobe, unless someone's come and helped themselves. It's an especially sweet brew."

[fireandhoney]

Finn only takes off his belts holding his potions and other supplies for now, setting them on a nearby table that miraculously has a bare spot on it. Last thing he wants to do is get mana potions on Anders' books and stain them.

"Remind me to bring you back some Dunmer-made wine next time I go to Solstheim. It has a nice burning sensation to it. And I don't mean the usual burn that comes with alcohol." He digs around in the aforementioned wardrobe until he finds the bottle, then locates a pair of goblets. The elf pours them both a helping of the wine, bringing one of the goblets over to Anders.

[mewnifestos]

"Not that I don't appreciate the thought..." Or what he assumes is the thought, behind as obtuse an offer as that. "But I think I'll pass."

Anders accepts his cup with a wry smile and an arched brow, content for now with something a little less adventurous. But he's not much of a drinker, really. In his significantly wilder youth, perhaps - but not anymore.

"I'm not going to risk bursting into flame just for a drink."

[fireandhoney]

"Perhaps some potion ingredients you can't get here in Skyrim then. Ash hopper jelly makes for a good health potion," Finn likes it over there, since almost nobody treats him like an outsider and the local Nords aren't as rowdy.

He sips his mead, not even gasping at the slight burn from the alcohol. Red eyes glanced at Anders again when the goblet falls away from his lips. The human really is quite handsome, especially with the light from the fire highlighting his cheekbones.

"You know, I'm still grateful for the last time you saved my skin when I took you out on an adventure. That draugr could have taken my head off."

[mewnifestos]

"That sounds a little more like it," Anders acquiesces, still smiling faintly over the rim of his glass. The wine's not really strong enough to merit a wince, but there's at least liquor enough to it to make the night pleasantly fuzzy at the edges, if drunk enough. And it helps with the last of the lingering chill from the mountainside, even if it's not touched with any questionable, fiery magics.

Appreciated as it is, Anders is still quick to dismiss Finn's gratitude - but it's not something that really needs saying.

"It wasn't as if I had a lot of options," he teases, a twist of wry humor in his tone. "It was either that, or be left alone in the crypt with it. And I much prefer your company."

[dreadfullysinful]

[ I could definitely see Lust as his familiar if you're interested. I play her from the original anime, so she's pretty smart and level-headed, and has a dream of becoming human. I figure in DragonAge world she might be a spirit like Cole but has been in the world and out of the Fade long enough to know more about humans behave. And of course if you're not interested that's alright too. ]

[mewnifestos]

[ i'm sorry, i don't really see these two working together! but thanks, anyway. ]