Strange Staff (
st_aff) wrote in
strangetrip2017-04-12 11:02 pm
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[GP] Midnight Carnival
Once, back at the beginning, Songrans had started the Carnival at midnight and ended it an hour later at one minute past. At least, it was reasonable to suppose they had, but, in truth, it had been such a long time ago, it was an article of faith rather than fact. Nowadays, Midnight Carnival began when the sun went down and ended when it came up again. It had been wryly suggested by many more than one Songran that it ought to be renamed "All Night Carnival," but somehow it never was. It made for convenient fiction on the Day of Kosal that all licentiousness had taken place in a single, short, non-existent hour, and so it remained as it was.
What it was depended on who did the describing. It might be wild twists of fortune at games of chance tended by sloe-eyed men and women in brilliant costume. Or it might be fine rice wine sampled from one end of the street to the next until the world spun like Samnang's wheel. For lovers of the Youngest, it might be greasepaint and cartwheels or blindfold-tag in a crowd or blowing soap bubbles at passersby. Chanda's devotees spent the night in sexual revels or romantic trysts under firework strewn skies, while enterprising followers of Vanna might find selling candy or trinkets or operating currency exchange more to their delight.
As soon as the sun set, buildings vomited forth a brightly festooned sea of humanity lit by colored silk or paper lanterns. The night smelled of sweetened puffed rice, rich and salty fish dumplings, spicy chili-fried insects. Turn a corner and chocolate, sugar, cinnamon, gave way to sweat, smoke, wine and sex. By midnight, the Carnival resembled nothing so much as a bejeweled caterpillar comprised of myriad masked and painted faces, in wild distortions of ecstasy, agony, and joy.
What it was depended on who did the describing. It might be wild twists of fortune at games of chance tended by sloe-eyed men and women in brilliant costume. Or it might be fine rice wine sampled from one end of the street to the next until the world spun like Samnang's wheel. For lovers of the Youngest, it might be greasepaint and cartwheels or blindfold-tag in a crowd or blowing soap bubbles at passersby. Chanda's devotees spent the night in sexual revels or romantic trysts under firework strewn skies, while enterprising followers of Vanna might find selling candy or trinkets or operating currency exchange more to their delight.
As soon as the sun set, buildings vomited forth a brightly festooned sea of humanity lit by colored silk or paper lanterns. The night smelled of sweetened puffed rice, rich and salty fish dumplings, spicy chili-fried insects. Turn a corner and chocolate, sugar, cinnamon, gave way to sweat, smoke, wine and sex. By midnight, the Carnival resembled nothing so much as a bejeweled caterpillar comprised of myriad masked and painted faces, in wild distortions of ecstasy, agony, and joy.
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And because it was the same, Regina knew to keep it light, the brush of lips and breath and noses against skin, more caresses than kissing at first. Until Rebekah's jaw softened under her fingertips and their mouths joined in earnest.
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Relaxing, she tightened her fingers against the back of the other woman's neck but not enough to hurt. Just enough to give her a gentle tug so she could press their lips together in a firm kiss, one that wasn't all teasing and caresses. No, she wanted a real taste of her kisses before tasting her blood.
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After a short while, she drew Rebekah's body flush against hers and held her with an arm around her back and fingers splayed between her shoulder blades. She drew her mouth of Rebekah's and tipped her head to the side, offering. "Go ahead, Goldilocks," she murmured, teasing.
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Bending her head down, she teased her lips over the soft skin there, drawing a slow kiss from the curve of her shoulder up to the spot behind Regina's ear. Then she nipped at the earlobe, the corners of her mouth twitching a little as she listened to the little jumps in her heart rate.
Drawing her lips down to the perfect spot, she drew in a soft breath before biting down gently. There was no avoiding the first bit of pain when her teeth broke the skin but she figured Regina knew it would be brief before it would start to feel good for them both. Which it did as the taste of Regina's blood made Rebekah moan when she started to drink.
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Unexpectedly, she'd missed being needed in this way, trusted to provide something so essential. It wasn't physical pleasure that provoked her moans and the hints of whimpers in the back of her throat, although that was there as well. Instead, she found it seemed to heal some of the ache in her heart and perhaps some of the blackness.
The heady swirl of emotion and sensation loosened her grip on her tongue enough for her to sigh, "I've missed you." And after, she gave in to the familiarity and let herself feel her love for her dear friend. Just for a moment.
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Then she heard the soft whisper of how much the woman had missed her and she tightened her arms around her in response. She only drank a little bit more after that, just enough to sate her for awhile, before running her tongue over the bite mark and lifting her head.
Licking the blood from the corners of her lips, she eased back to look at Regina. "Are you okay?"
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She felt the emotion churning and the tears trying to form and flow, but she swallowed them back like she'd done for the better part of her life. Then forced up a smile instead. "A man, of course."
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"Isn't it always?" She asked somewhat dryly while running a finger over the bottom of her own lip. "Do you want to get a drink and talk about it?"
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"But not tonight." She reached out again, her fingertips to Rebekah's elbow in a gentle caress that promised it wasn't a rejection. "You need time to get used to me again. And I need--" Not be holding her against the standard of her other self, expecting what Rebekah couldn't yet give. "To get back to the inn before Snow worries. Maybe we could have breakfast this week?"
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"Of course." She hummed. "I'm in Room 183 if you should ever need to find me."
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Resisting the urge to lean in and kiss Rebekah again, Regina instead brushed the hair off the other woman's cheek and smiled, unknowingly wistful. "Please don't be a stranger." I couldn't bear it.