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

[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."

[fireandhoney]

"Well, good to know I'm better to be around than a rotting corpse," Finn snarks, matching Anders' humor. "I smell nicer, for one." On a good day, he smells like someone who goes outside a lot, or works with herbs. On a bad day he smells like sweat and blood. Not always his blood, even.

"Not to mention all the times I'd probably have bleed out if it weren't for your mastery of healing." Finn prefers the stealthy approach when it comes to clearing out threats, and failing that, fighting from a distance. But sometimes he gets unlucky or underestimates the immediate threat level. "Not to mention you're much easier on the eyes than a corpse or a falmer."

He can only hope Anders isn't about to throw him out of the room for a little flirting.

[mewnifestos]

As far as flirting goes, that's remarkably tame - and, for all Anders knows, just another joke, anyway.

He scoffs, although it's in the same good humor, and arches a very skeptical brow. "That's not much of a contest, is it? I hope you don't expect me to be flattered to know I'm not completely repulsive to you."

It isn't exactly much of a revelation, anyway. If he were corpse-or-falmer hideous, he imagines Finn might have found another healer to drag around all the far reaches of Skyrim, by now. Or just gone without, really.

"At least compare me to something you wouldn't shudder to think of."

[fireandhoney]

"If you insist," There's the hint of challenge to his voice. "You're also better looking than the cute bards we see at the inns." Even if the other mages here claim Anders can't play the lute to save his life. He's been half-tempted to take Anders to the Bard's College and borrow a lute just to see how true that is.

Finn puts down his now-empty goblet and stands up, sauntering over to Anders in what he considers to be a 'sexy walk'. He leans against the wall by Anders, a mischievous look in his red eyes.

"Not to mention you're easier on the eyes than most of the humans in Skyrim. Nicer on the ears too."

[mewnifestos]

"Are you insulting the bards or flattering me?" Anders asks, hiking that skeptical brow up just a fraction further. (But he's well aware of how prevalent rumors of his skill with a lute are - mostly because he tends to wield one as fearlessly as he does a staff, or a fistful of sparks.) Still, he seems more amused than anything.

Except, perhaps, for curious.

There's a quick flicker in his gaze as he takes stock of Finn in his presumably alluring pose, although he hedges a bit, still. "I've already agreed to wander into the face of certain death with you again, so if this is all some effort to butter me up after the fact, you know, it's really not necessary."

[fireandhoney]

"The only thing I butter up is cooked mudcrab and dinner rolls, and I don't see either right now," Finn doesn't see why Anders gets like this when he's complimented. Insecurity, perhaps? One would think a man as handsome as Anders would have suitors all lined up to present him with flowers or even amulets of Mara.

"Is it really so hard to believe that I just happen to think you're good looking, or that my flirting doesn't have to have some ulterior motive?"

[mewnifestos]

"...Yes?" Anders laughs, but it's a rather bemused sound, as the good humor in his gaze, in the set of his mouth, fades. "I'm well aware of what I look like, and I'm not sure good is an apt descriptor."

He's more of a mess, honestly. Like the room they're occupying, or the uneven fall of his hair - some of it still clinging to the shape of the lazy tail he'd pulled it out of when they stepped inside.

Not to mention all the other reasons it's a fairly absurd assumption. He sets aside his glass, only half empty, and winds his hands together in his lap, looking markedly uncertain. "You shouldn't waste your charms on someone like me."

[fireandhoney]

Finn is hardly one to judge for not keeping a living space completely tidy. Not to mention that even with all the scruff there really is something about Anders that makes him look handsome. He has a more natural look about him, that not even some messy hair and chin fuzz can't ruin.

"Charm spells are for haggling, thank you," He knows full well what Anders meant, but he can't help but make that quip anyway. But then he lets the humorous side fall with what he's about to say next, so Anders doesn't get the wrong idea.

"Maybe I want to use my charms on you," The Dunmer licks his lips in thought. "Would it be uncouth of me if I said I wanted to kiss you?"

[mewnifestos]

"Well, there's no accounting for taste," Anders quips, though his crooked smile falters even as it forms, another failing attempt at humor. He lets it fall, though, looking up again to meet Finn's gaze with a hard, searching look of his own. And though there's still more than a touch of uncertainty in it, there's no hint of compromise.

"I don't want to be anyone's bed-warmer. Not even the Dragonborn's," he says, an unhappy note creeping into his firm tone, as it comes out sounding far more damning than it did in his head. "So if that's all you're after, I'm afraid I'll have to decline.

"If this isn't just about getting me into bed, though, then - perhaps..." Then perhaps there might not be such a slim chance, after all. But it's not as if he hasn't ever considered it, himself.

[fireandhoney]

"If all I wanted was a bed-warmer, I would have gone out and found one of my admirers," Some of the people he'd saved in the past had expressed a desire to 'show him gratitude' as it were.

Finn pulls up a nearby chair and sits in it so he can at least be eye-level with Anders. "I like you, Anders. I like you a lot. You're not like anyone else I've met here in Skyrim. I've been wanting to say something for a while but the time never seemed right." A dark crypt isn't exactly the most romantic of settings, nor is it something you spring up while hiking across the countryside. Then again, what excuse does he have for not saying something during periods of rest at campsites for inns?

His grey fingers reach out and rest on Anders' knee. "I don't want something that'll be over in one night and then never talked about again. Not with you." Finn starts to lean in for the aforementioned kiss.

[mewnifestos]

Well, there's not much else to say to that. For once, Anders has no contentious words - although he does make a sound, when their mouths meet, quite promptly after he's reached out and grabbed Finn by the wide collar of his robes and pulled him abruptly forward. Practically onto the bed with him, although there's at least enough balance between them to counter that (even if just for a moment).

A wordless, keening sound hums between Anders' lips and the darker pair he crushes them against, and he'd be at least a little ashamed of the raw need in it, if he even recognized it as his own. Or could hear it, over the rush of blood in his ears.

[fireandhoney]

Finn makes a startled noise, which is cut off by the kiss, as Anders pulls him in suddenly. But the surprise quickly vanishes and he melts into the kiss, caressing Anders' lips with his own.

The Dunmer straddles Anders' hips, putting one of his hands on the back of the other mage's head to run his long, grey fingers through blond hair. He ends up dislodging the ponytail in the process, pulling a few locks out of the tie. There's an undeniable headiness to the kiss, full of longing and relief of feelings actually being reciprocated.