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Neon Hearts in Derelict Futures [Briar & AlrunaRose]

Aolieon found herself listening intently, scanning body language and feeling keyed-in to the entire situation "Haha, yeah..." she replied with a light chuckle when Therrye commented on what they might have learned about edgerunning, her eyes dropping down for a second before she cast another sideways glance at Kaede. Yeah, they learned a lot... She didn't have much time to reminisce and go down her negative thought paths, before Therrye began to move.
An intrigued smile crept upon Aolieon's face the moment Therrye leaned inwards when they began brushing legs. Yeeeeessss... her inner thoughts flooded the surface and became stronger, as her senses all fixated to attention. She rolled her neck a little as she kept her eyes locked on Therrye's; keeping a suave amount of cool, but unable to contain her attraction. She drank in every last word; savored every movement she made, and all of the inner demons took their seats in the ampitheatre of her mind to appreciate, delegate and give council to what courses of action the blue devil was going to take next. When Therrye reached her hand forwards, Aolieon's eyelids languished; dimming her sight in order to savor the touch of another woman, as she had always done. When her hand graced her shoulder, it was soft and assertive; smoothing up her collarbone with the certainty of stone and the gentleness of floating satin. In the mental ampitheatre, an uninvited guest cried out with need; heckling the audience of inner demons with facts unintelligible or perceivable. As Therrye's hand floated strands of hair away from her, something prickled in her skin as her hand made its way up to her neck -- a warmth lashed out like lightning and sank its hooks into her; Aolieon's lips parted as a breath escaped her chest. Her neck opened, elevating her chin slightly to welcome this sensation at first, but alarm bells were ringing in the back of her head. Involuntary response -- what was happening? So many hands had graced this curtain of silver, and the skin that lay beneath; men, women, enbys, chromes -- but none of them felt like this.
Her breath began to heave; she felt warm and fuzzy all over... Once, she had been fitted with neuro-implants made to drag her libido to the surface kicking and screaming; to force her to kneel, beg, moan and clench whenever desired, but this was different -- her own desires were charging forwards of their own accord; searching madly for something that quickened the pulse and sharpened the teeth. It felt like something was pulling lovingly at the stitches of her very being. Demanding and beckoning her; a call from days never past that fluttered across her ears and spoke unintelligible words. Drowning her in the heated waters of a red sun. Pulled her face into affectionate flames that made her womanhood tremble. Her memories flashed to the neural sensation in her hands from before; the jilted prisoner rattling at the bars, unsung and unknown -- as if from dead space in the net, it called her name; it lunged at her from the darkness of Therrye's dilated eyes. Therrye wielded her touch with intent; the movements signaling the gentlest of intents and the softest of meanings... but this was not her. Did she even know??
Therrye's hand came to stop short of her cheek as it freed it's way to where it wanted to be. In the simplest of gestures, a small accident; the lightest of touches saw an errant knuckle graze the bottom apex of her lunar-curved horn. The orange lightning flashed again as she grazed the sensitive, seemingly decorative feature -- a long-forgotten purpose surged, flooding her brain with oxytocin; filling her head with a heat that surged and threatened to rip open her core. Aolieon drew in a sharp breath through her teeth -- she choked back a moan, but the sound fluttered from her throat. Her eyes dilated something fierce, giving way to a void wrapped in amber that begged, pleaded for more on its knees. She struggled to find the strength to move -- she didn't want to. She was breathing so deeply, making her chest heave; she didn't want to be doing that at a mere touch, either.
Pull away... Her inner demons began to speak; the same ones that told her where to cut, whom to court and how to move her body. She tried to shake her head; she stood at the ledge of a pool full of drugs and sensations she had never known; she wanted to dive right into it... Keep it together; don't let her know you want it, girl... they spoke again. Aolieon tensed, fumbling for the strength to regain control, but it felt so good... Pull. Away.

Aolieon blinked, regaining her composure at last. If Therrye moved in for a kiss, she'd smirk sultrily and then lean backwards, turning her head as her eyelids lowered; back in control, she couldn't help but tease. A low, crescendoing sensual chuckle fluttered from her throat, her emotions mixed with regret, triumph and relief. Ohh, she almost had me... Aolieon thought to herself. She fluffed her hair and adjusted her miniskirt, eyes going down to check and see if she had gotten a little too excited. Whew, luckily not. Had it been so, her entire style of dress would have made things quite embarrassing... Her pupils slowly began to shrink, but stopped a distance short of getting to normal levels. She waded through the fuzziness in her brain, dusting it out of the mental ampitheatre as if it were smoke. Clarity returned as an honored guest. What did she say, again? Ohh, yeah...
"There's no one in the world who moves like me, sweets," Aolieon's tone was low, honeyed and confident as one might imagine a Night City Queen; her sass deflecting as best as it could, but her voice betrayed a change in her nature. She ran her fingers through her hair, and sighed, her breath carrying a portion of all that undue lust with it. Where did that last word come from? She's only ever called close friends that word... "... and I don't like owing people favors; that's all that was about," Aolieon looked back into Therrye's eyes, dressing her up and down with her eyes to savor the reactions of her new plaything, and truly admire what was there to behold. She tilted her head with curiosity, and found herself drawn to lean forwards. "... I suppose I could show you some inspiration, though; if you really want... and maybe you can thank me later," She breathed lowly, letting her back arch as she presented herself once more. She smoothed her hands across the table, licking her lips and giving Therrye a hungry stare. A single question slipped from between Aolieon's teeth, as she prepared to rise up from her chair...

"... Care for a dance?"
 
Since her headlong plunge into freedom, Therrye's hands had found many bodies to touch in the city nights. Feeling the heartbeats of others through their arteries beneath her fingertips sweetly swept her gaze away from looking behind her. Grounding herself in the moment, unanchored from those blood-coated roars, with sweat rolling down her skin and the needful sounds of another filling her ears had given her fields of new memories. Within those, how often had one reacted like Aolieon did right now, before she'd even had a chance to really touch them? The sound of her breathing almost felt loud against the music and her eyes had become glowing gates of greed.

There was zero doubt Aolieon had gotten her attention very much wound up in tangled mess of her, even if some of it was bent toward trying to understand what was happening in her. Did she have a moment to slip something into her veins? Unlikely, given how much she'd already watched her.

Well, whatever the reason, her hand dropped to the side as Aolieon drew back from the intensity that had been somehow been opened. Her fingers twitched involuntarily, and it felt a touch like their tips had been shocked. If she wasn't so very here right now, she might have missed the sensation amongst something else. Though she still didn't put it alongside other signals, a pattern was threatening to emerge and give her even more questions.

"that's all that was about" rang hollow in her ears, though she couldn't tell whether it was a lie or just a fraction of the whole picture. "Mm," she started, "You rather like tilting the scales back into your pocket?" Her grin was one of simple mirth, though if asked, she'd be hard-pressed to explain why. It seemed to fit her, all the same.

Aolieon parrying her question into one of her own was a delightful turn. She hadn't seemed at all like the pillow princess type; much of what had ignited in the first place that night was how hard she danced with her energy. That that had been flatlining lives didn't churn the comparison to how it might be now, or later. Therrye's violet gaze returned some of her hunger, better resembling a trap about to snap than the intensity of the hunter Aolieon was wearing. How many nights had she spent giving thanks in the past week? Not enough. "If you'd rather be patient," she replied dryly, her eyes dilating further in response to the thought.

Seeing Aolieon begin to rise with the question, a broad smile shone in return. "I'd love to."
 
She pressed her hands and stood up from the table slowly, standing from the hips first. Her expression was one that was focused and predatory, yet gentle and comforting -- a picture of confidence and pleasure. She walked around the table and placed her hands on her shoulders, pushing her and her chair back up against the wall and away from the table they sat at. She could have chose a chair with arms, a couch; anything, but giving Therrye nowhere to put her hands was both a daring invitation and a chance to get a lot closer to her than usual. She then twirled lightly to face away from her and sashayed away from her for five long paces. That's when she began.

🎶 Skavinski -- "Save Me" 🎶
With her back towards Therrye, Aolieon casually pivoted on one heel to pull the knee across her body, and then reverse the movement back -- left, then right, left than right. Seemingly a warmup, the result were gentle hip bevels, causing her to sway casually while flowing with her entire lower body. She tilted her head back and placed her hands on her waist as she began to roll her hips around in little circles, slowly working her way down to the floor into a near crouch and smoothing her hands slowly down to her knees. Now practically squatting on her heels, she bounced lightly before dropping it low, opening her legs at the knees and popping elegantly back up to standing. Without missing a beat, she lightly stepped into a wide stance and smoothed her hands down both legs, rolling her neck to whip her long hair in an elegant flowing arc, looking back to sneak a smirking leer at Therrye before looking back away. She gently threw her hips to the left, then the right, before turning to stand profile from Therrye.
Again, she smoothed her hands down her legs, arching her back as she slowly moved down, before flipping her hair back and smoothing herself back upwards. She rolled her hips a couple more times, arching her back and tilting her head backwards to let her hair down and reveal the S-curves down her body she was nailing with the movement. Her arms flew outwards to the sides and flowed into a Yin-Yang motion, with one going skywards before coming down to smooth through her hair; the other hand came to her hip and smoothed down her thigh, toes pointed as she melted into the ground -- the hand that went through her hair smoothed down her chest, as she completed the Goddess pose in a kneeling position. Placing one hand on the ground, she slid both legs out to the side, pointing them straight while keeping her upper body propped halfway upright. Using her hands to keep relatively upright, she rolled on the ground with legs straight into a mermaid roll.
Now with her body facing Therrye directly, she kicked one leg high into the air and arcing over her body, showcasing her flexibility. As the high kick floated back down to join beside the other leg, Aolieon smirked again; without any assistance from her hands, she pulled one leg into a semi-circle around her to open them into a full split. Now facing Therrye directly, Aolieon smoothed one arm forwards to go completely prone while in the split (striking the same pose she assumed before the chaff grenades went off). Aolieon's face melted into a longing, lustful stare as she pulled herself up to start crawling towards Therrye on her hands and knees; using her free hand, she smoothed the high-fashion skirt back over her hind cheekily. Like a fawning submissive, she slowly made her way over to her, keeping her back arched to present her chest and her head tilted to the side to curtain the hair around one shoulder.

Finally having made her way to Therrye, Aolieon placed one hand upon one of her knees, lifting her butt up to stand before she arched her back to stand up all the way. Her eyelids lowered and a loving, sassy smirk came across her face as she leaned down to start touching her. Carefully, she lightly smoothed her hands from her knees into her inner thighs; through her lap and up her abs before moving to her arms and smoothing respectfully up to her shoulders and neck. Finally, she would slide her hands back down the way they came. This erotic gesture was naught but a formality; however it was essential, and not only merely for the nonverbal acquisition of consent. Save perhaps the arms, Aolieon was quietly testing the waters -- letting Therrye know the places she was gonna be touching.
She then turned around and placed her hands on Therrye's knees. Slowly she brought her buttocks down, going to sit on her lap but lightly grinding it against her abdomen first before going to sit down at last in her lap. Positioning her lower body in between Therrye's legs and posturing to support her weight on one foot; Aolieon propped her hands on her own knees and began to roll her hips outwards into Therrye, smoothing her own rear backwards and forwards across her lap and abs. Placing both heels on the outer sides of Therrye's feet, she then leaned further forwards and began pressing down on her knees and alternating them slightly outwards -- smoothing her ass in that signature figure-eight across her lap and abs. As she did this, Aolieon couldn't help but turn her head to look back at Therrye, checking to see if she was enjoying the show with that longing, lustful stare once more. She then skated one foot in between hers and stood up slightly, assuming the original sitting position and rolling her hips out onto Therrye some more. Pausing in the motion to take one hand and smooth her hair out over one shoulder, she revealed her bare neck, a few tattoos now plain to see as she sighed with each breath, turned to lock a sideways stare with Therrye, her expression and sighing breath almost quietly beckoning for a touch.
Eventually, she slowly stood up the entire way, turning back around to start touching Therrye in those places again -- only this time, rolling her body, chest down to hips towards her. She stepped forwards to take a straddling stance and continued undulating towards her body... Gently grabbing ahold of her head, Aolieon pulled her to within inches of her breasts; she began to sway her hips side to side as her hands ran through Therrye's hair and scalp, all around her neck and her collarbone. She kept moving her body sensually through this time, but tilted Therrye's head to look upwards and lock eyes with her; that immense dilation of a longing void now, as she brushed Therrye's hair aside and behind her ears, combing it around her damaged horns, smoothing her fingers across doting features of facial cyberware, all before sliding her hands down either side of her neck to where they met at the shoulders.

She leaned down and forwards to where her lips were a mere handful of inches from Therrye's; holding her there to just breathe for a few seconds, lips parted and lustfully staring into her eyes. If Therrye didn't steal a kiss right then and there, Aolieon would sensually chuckle, tagging her bottom lip ever so lightly with her tongue before slithering her head to rest lightly by her ear. "Feeling lucky, slugger? I hope this is turning out as fun for you as it is for me..." Again, she put forth the lightest of teases with her tongue; this time, an elegant swipe to her earlobe. She smoothed her hands down the sides of her torso, her waist and her hips, bringing them down to her knees and pushing them open. She then knelt in the space between, smoothing one hand up her abs -- the arm without the communicator, which was bare of accessories. Looking deeply into Therrye's eyes, she sat neatly there with her head resting neatly against her inner elbow. She then grinned with a chuckle, and then let her tongue slip out, long and pointed, as she slithered and undulated it to lick her own arm, up and down -- strange as it was, the message was clear. She would have done more, if this was a man, but... Therrye didn't seem the type for salacious showmanship. She put her tongue back in her mouth, smiled lovingly and then crossed her arms over Therrye's lap to rest her own head upon them... and just stare for a few seconds. Clearly, she was done.

Aolieon pushed herself up and informally sat herself sideways on Therrye's thigh. She wiped her arm clean nonchalantly, then sighed as she began twiddling with a few locks of Therrye's hair. She reached over with her other hand, and procured the drink that Kaede had left there -- he saw the whole thing, but let Aolieon have her moment; not like he hadn't seen her do this before. Only one difference -- she was trying. Whatever the case, it looked like she was done, as she took a sip of her drink, then bounced her eyebrows at Therrye. "How's that? ... Learn anything?" She concluded, with a wink and a giggle, lightly moaning at the presence of the drink's burn down her throat.
 
Therrye wasn't completely surprised by the push she got back into the chair - it fit so many of the details of Aolieon's movements and profile - but she was still caught entirely off guard. When had that vigilance fallen away in this bar? She couldn't rightly tell, and Aolieon didn't give her time to put thought to it. Her eyes fell where a number of others were right now. The presence of her performance was one that demanded it soon enough.

Back when she was a fresh young thing to spending time with joytoys, she'd tried to give equal attention to a dancer's face and their body. It seemed respectful, a way to acknowledge their personhood and not just objectify. She learned later that that sentiment entirely missed the point of performance. Whatever the suite of circumstances and motivation that brought one to the pole, the dance was something many could pour their heart into, and took intense skill to pull off at a high level regardless. How muscles could hold an entire body in place while limbs gracefully swept through the space, how lust and provocation could be distilled into a constellation of micro and macro movements, how fully each step and roll could command a whole room - it was breathtaking. Purposefully taking one's attention off of all that was misguided at best, and Therrye did her best to catch every second of it.

That didn't mean Therrye missed Aolieon's leer though, and she shot back a raised brow in teasing challenge. How far her pupils had dilated gave away the score. The dryness in her mouth reminded her of the electric puff of adrenaline sliding its way through her system, which was the only union more intimately familiar to her than the heady pulse of lust. Unlike adrenaline, this was all heat and no chill.

Therrye's attention traced the surface of Aolieon's thighs and calves, put so vividly on display. Her breath held a few heartbeats as she swept into a full split and then prone. And then the crawl - her eyes were briefly a violet corona around a black sun, their lids wide open. Fuck. She didn't know why that always hit so hard, but it did. Aolieon's sass, once she was actually touching the bruiser, put some ice to the blaze behind her skin. Therrye smirked back at her, but made no effort to leash or cover up how much she was enjoying her. Her core tightened at the touch of her hands over the thin layers of denim and cloth separating their skin from one another; she inclined her head to indicate her acceptance, one hand gripping into itself to displace some of the tension coiling within her while the other... When this was professional, she let the dancer lead. If they wanted her hands on them, she didn't argue, but she wouldn't push that onto them unbidden. Taking advantage in that way was as far from her morals as she was from being a Corpo.

But this was personal, wasn't it?

Her fingertips brushed down her left thigh, along the miniskirt and then bare flesh, once Aolieon's weight settled into hers. They curled halfway down to give a gentle graze of her nails before she broke contact. Therrye didn't want to interrupt her dance or drag her focus away from it. She was right there, though, and her presence tugged at Therrye's chest; touching her felt like the easiest way to ease that tension. Or, more honestly, the way she wanted to experience most.

The Liandri's gaze was already grazing over her shoulder when Aolieon looked back at her, and it held onto hers for several heartbeats. Her parted lips drew into a smile then, nearly laughing. The wild turns of Aolieon's behavior evoked another burst of delight. Stars above did she want to taste her. Therrye's hand was already reaching out to sweep aside Aolieon's hair for her when she beat her to it, so she brought her hand to the back of the woman's neck and slowly slid her fingers across it and up to her jaw. Despite the levels of strength seen in the brutal blows she delivered earlier that night, Therrye's touch was awfully gentle. Not in the way that one carefully handles a fragile thing so it won't break - more the intentional pace of pleasure when touching something tactilely luxurious, and precious beyond eddies. She almost cupped her cheek, but again withdrew her hand to not pull from the dance she wanted to live out.

Therrye found herself holding her breath again as Aolieon brought a hand to the back of her head and rolled her body so sinuously before hers. It would have been so easy to lean forward and close the distance. Instead, she exhaled, the heat of her breath dissipating along Aolieon's chest. Her body reacted quite favorably to the hands moving through her hair, leaning into the touch with far more insistence than her hands had expressed thus far. When she tilted Therrye's face toward hers, the naked hunger was unmistakable in those violet-ringed orbs and her open lips. It wasn't hard to tell that her restraint was cracking along the seams. Once she came in closer, she tilted her head upward just enough so she could tug at Aolieon's lower lip with her own. She gave a chuff back, her voice low. "Having the time of my life." The tease on her earlobe sent tingles up her spine. When the dancer knelt before her, an impulse to growl tickled at her throat. That.. wasn't normal for her. Therrye brushed her own hair to the side and back, trying to steady herself from the beat of mild disorientation. Seeing Aolieon lick her arm made her want to seize it and draw her tongue over the same path.

This was a little ludicrous. Therrye was not shy with her desire and spent many of her nights indulging in sultry-sweet lust. But she was left more than a touch feral from Aolieon's brazen display, and she had no idea why.

Once she had so casually slipped into her space after, her fingers twitched with the thirst running through her. Therrye's hand moved up slowly, patiently waiting for the woman to set her drink down, before it settled on the side of her neck. It wasn't applying any pressure there - not yet. She leaned down, lips brushing across her ear, and asked in a low voice, "May I?"

At her assent, her hand tightened enough to counterweight what she was about to do to the other side of her neck. Tilting Aolieon's head away from her just slightly, she brought her mouth down to her skin and slowly opened it wider, letting her breath and lips rest there at first. It was a gonk move at this point to try and deny the electricity she felt in the intimacy of it; Therrye hesitated, just a little, at the fear of losing control. She couldn't easily remember the last time she'd felt so unmoored from the center of her storm on account of  desire.

But then she let go, and just trusted in herself. Therrye's tongue brushed forward and a sound of indulgent relief thrummed from her against Aolieon's throat. The taste of her was new - she'd never encountered another Liandri before - and it slithered down her nerves like melting ice. Her teeth followed, pressing down enough to feel her flesh yield beneath them, but not enough to cause noteworthy pain. Then they let go and she sucked in to roll her skin slowly from one lip to the other. She hadn't even noticed that her other hand had come down on Aolieon's left thigh, holding it as firmly as she held her neck.

The urge to bite and suck at the spot harder and harder until the cerulean was livid under her mouth strained at her. But she had not asked how the dancer felt about being marked, and drew the line there. Her lips slowly closed as her hands relaxed and slid away from her skin. Not because she wanted to, as the tangle of hunger insistently reminded her, but because there were words to have before doing more. Therrye's breath nevertheless sang with her lust.

"You've shown me a new depth of hunger, at the very least," she chuckled.
 
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Throughout her routine, she couldn't help but notice how the majority of eyes were upon her, but what she delighted in the most was how Therrye's eyes burned into her. The delight got even more delectable when Therrye began to sensually paw at her -- so respectful and restrained for a woman; if the thrill of this experience could peak any more, Aolieon could have sworn herself capable of growing fangs with how much sinful mirth was welling up inside her -- she loved dancing under these contexts; it put her in control. Aolieon was no stranger to turning on the charm to make anyone eat greedily out of the palm of her hand. She had lost count of how many times that Corpses had fallen into her honey trap, only to be left bleeding out in an alleyway with blue balls. But aside from vendettas being the furthest thing from her mind, something else drew a stark divide between this time and all her other sexual encounters, flings and black widow escapades alike -- and it was getting under her skin, causing her to lose grip on the situation.
She had found a new addiction, and it was rippling through her body in such a way that she found herself intoxicated in a different way. She had had so many different sets of hands on her body in her life, but she liked these hands -- she loved these hands, and the way they made her feel. She knew not what caused it or why, but what she knew for sure was that it felt as spiritual as mescaline, as nail-draggingly intense as methamphetamines and alluring as ecstasy. It was a whole new drug, and in this moment, it was all for her. When Therrye's hand came to rest lightly on her neck, poised to grip and choke; Aolieon let a complacent smile fall across her face, as she blinked with a twitch, noting the danger. But she had played chicken with the metallic desires and sexual aggression of people losing their grip on their humanity, and had steered herself out of it before -- deciding it was worth the risk, she swept her hair back and away from Therrye, laying her entire collarbone bare to her and inclining her chin up with a subdued leer of permission. Her eyes closed and she subconsciously tensed, preparing to wriggle her way out of an unrestrained metallic grip. What followed was not what she was queued into, and Aolieon gasped as she felt gentle lips dynamically move with a warmth tempered by both a doting heated desire and a need for consent. Every movement paused, asking politely for more as it pressed itself in degrees towards a sweet sustenance -- it was not something she was used to. Unexpectedly, her eyes snapped open and she began to feel her heart swell. So sweet, so soft and warm... how long had it been since she had someone handle her like this? Slowly, Therrye's affection poured into her like hot coals, and she began to tremble as an exiled need shot to the surface and made a request, to which Aolieon didnt even pay a second thought.
The hand closest to Therrye went underneath her arm and smoothed up her back, sweeping up the neck and smoothing her fingers into the scalp at the back of Therrye's head -- ever ready to curl her fingers and pull her away. Rolling her neck ever gently against Therrye's gripping hand, Aolieon pulled away ever so slightly, but this was not to shun her advances -- it was to mildly adjust where her lips were; sliding them into the recess of her collarbone where the shoulder meets the neck. With Therrye's lips now located in a hotspot, Aolieon's breathing became ragged as the molten pouring of Therrye's affections into her intensified.
As restraint began to give way to hunger and Therry nibbled and sucked at her flesh, a whining moan escaped her lips, with each subsequent exhale now coming equipped with its own soft, breathy moan; she took the hand on her thigh and swept it up to her waist, inviting her to pull her closer. Aolieon could no longer ignore that something about Therrye and how she was handling her was flaying her existence open, and a pang of romantic fear stabbed into Aolieon's chest. The exiled need made another request -- one far more daring. Already being suspended in Therrye's arms, a lamenting uncertainty sizzled in her chest; her pupils shrank in distress as she shot a glance at Kaede across the way. He had been watching this entire time, as had other people. The exhibitionist fetishes within her peaked and another stitch in her soul was ripped loose as a result. Kaede's eyes flickered with equal parts salacious excitement and a doting, bittersweet awe -- while never the same dance number, he had seen this proverbial song and dance out of Aolieon many times before and seeing her visibly trembling now, with eyes of uncertainty... he knew. As two regulars enamored with Kaede closed in on him from across the bar, he ran his fingers through a nondescript male's hair, preparing to let the excitement claim him in his own way, he locked eyes with Aolieon and silently mouthed three words... "Let... Her... In..."
Aolieon's eyes dilated once more, both shocked and assured by this revelation. She had not moved from Therrye's grasp; her resolve had melted under her heat in such a way that she couldn't find the wherewithal to pull away -- now she had a reason. Just for one night... just this once. Curling the fingers at the back of her head, Aolieon gently pulled Therrye's head from her neck, feeling her hot breath warm the saliva she had left, causing a tingle. Aolieon's eyelids lowered, her expression melting into deep lust as she began to give in to this new drug, submitting to the eddies (of emotion) swirling in her brain. Her free hand came up to Therrye's cheek, and Aolieon pulled her in a kiss. A couple of meaningful, hungry smooches commenced as Aolieon's grip released from her hair, and both hands immersed themselves in her electric blue locks. She quietly pulled the final stitch in her soul open herself; her lips parted, tongue skating past Therrye's lips to tag her own -- a final blessing of consent to this entire grapple of affection laid upon her, as for the briefest of moments -- the glaciers melted into crystalline waters, and the walls came down.

A swooning call of a few aroused ladies snapped them back to reality, as the handful of onlookers of the nightly show they had received jeered their appreciation for the fact that their exchange had ended on a high note. The sweet and greedy claiming of what was clearly the only professional dancer in the bar had officially presented itself as the starting gun to something else entirely, and the hidden spirit of the Neon Hearts Nightclub came to life -- people were all around making out with swinging partners, bumping and grinding on one another, while those riding solo gave in to the music and let their inhibitions flow through their body movements. Kaede pulled away from his joytoy for a second, walking over to the portion behind his bartop that served as a makeshift DJ stand and speaking into a synthesizer mic. "Alright, ladies and gentlechooms; that's as good a time to start as any -- iiiiit's Happy Hour! Share the love, and let those inhibitions fly! Here at Neon Hearts, you're invited to show us your best love-making with taste with any partner you choose; flings and mainlines alike. If you're going Stag; shake that money-maker, and show everyone how badly you need somebody to love! Spice up the night, and if sparks fly; you're liable to get some fixes that'll really drive that love, or lust, up to the rooftops of Night City... on-the-house. Let's get this party staaaarted!" A Chromejock pinned a smaller cybered-up lady to the wall, taking care not to damage the property. A street doll tore open the jacket of a Ronin and began feeling him up and down. Two Arlaxxians began making out in their own special way. Another doll from a less reputable part of town sashayed forwards and tried her luck at the stripper poles. An Arasakan Corpo going stag was performing japanese kata moves in time to the music, laying out his own flair to the night life.
Kaede put up his mic, and changed to a much more sensual, more raunchy type of vocal deep house to get the blood flowing; he leered at the two ladies, making a cat claw gesture and blushing. He totally threw them under the bus, but he couldn't help it; from his point of view, it was the best thing he had seen all month -- and he was about to save money, as a result. The bar patrons were gonna have to work their hearts out to top what they just pulled off in his club... not even allowing them a chance to do much more than just cast him a look, he snickered with a lusty smirk, sticking his tongue out playfully at them before pulling his joytoy back in to hungrily play tonsil hockey.

Aolieon turned back to her now chosen partner, and sighed with exasperation at Kaede and his hopeless romantical antics. She rolled her eyes, now shrank to a normal and indignant size before looked back at Therrye "Cut him a break; he's always capitalizing on what I like to do here, in order to better his business," Aolieon shrugged, then spotted her drink. She took a hefty sip, loosening her neck as her free hand came up to test where Therrye was feasting upon her to see if she actually did leave marks -- not that she cared. Putting down her drink and staring off for awhile before she smirked and then cut her eyes sultrily at Therrye "... but, can you really blame him?" She grinned with a note of positive control returned, but something had changed... her snark had subsided, her body language was a bit more open and she seemed to be keeping herself open to be touched. She pulled one of Therrye's hands into her lap then leaned in closer, biting her lip hard with the grin, as she grabbed her chin lightly. "Let's have another taste... I wasn't done," The kiss that followed was a lot more casual, although there was a melted desire hooked into savoring what Therrye had in store for her, letting her lead this 'dance', so to speak. When they finished snogging, Aolieon sighed witha flighty moan; she truly did taste good. Part of her wondered what else she tasted like.. Placing her own hands in her lap, looking down and sighing, she cast a somewhat cute, engrossed look at her from beneath her eyebrows. "So... what happens now?"
 
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Moving Therrye's head wasn't difficult for Aolieon with how relaxed her body had become for her. Between the fingers in her hair, the intent of shifting where her mouth lay on the dancer, and the sounds of desire coming from her, losing herself in it was inevitable. The heat she incited needed so little encouragement to burn. Therrye pulled her waist tight to her body, spreading her legs to drop Aolieon's weight between them as the hand on her neck shifted to cradling it instead of holding; she had tilted her back so that her chest was all the more open to her and her center of balance relied on the arm holding her up.

With such a delicate area offered up, she was careful with her how her teeth met skin. The pull inside made her  want to devour inch after inch, leaving paths of well-earned bruises in her wake, but she didn't abandon her lines of consent. One yes was not a yes to everything and it was far from uncommon for a lover to want their body left unmarked. That didn't stop her lips from tugging insistently, though - it just tempered their strength.

When Aolieon drew her head away, a hungry haze persisted. The pull she felt from the Liandri had not diminished in the slightest, and only traced new fingers into her system as their lips met. The closest comparison she could make to the sensation was when she had slotted a skill shard for the first time and how it laced new connections between her synapses and technological ones in needful ways. Nothing about this felt so forced or artificial, though.

Ravenous was no understatement for how Therrye kissed her.

The pause in her companion took her out of it rather than Kaede's clarion call to uninhibited indulgence. Sounds and movements not containing an essence of threat might as well have not existed to her at that point. She was breathing hard as awareness unpleasantly pulled her out of the moment. Another reflexive sweep of her hair back behind her ear helped steady her. Of the the things Therrye currently felt she owed Kaede, 'a break' wasn't one of them, but she didn't harbor any malice for the man. Folk had to make money however they could and this was hardly hurting anyone. She shook her head with a bit of a smile to the first question and exhaled. That was something else. Before she had a chance to really do anything further, Aolieon bit her lip and kissed hers again, leaving her breathless. The hand she'd taken into her lap was taken in turn and squeezed by Therrye's. Even though she'd started up again with a more casual sort of kiss, after two more, she caught Aolieon's bottom lip firmly between her teeth and stared into her eyes. Something about it felt necessary, though she lacked any clarity as to why, beyond the usual desires.

Letting go, she was again feeling a touch disoriented. This was all much more intoxicating than she expected. "Let's... get some air." Aolieon's whole demeanor seemed altered and not just in comparison to the beginning of the night. Something had shifted and this was the second time already some divergence in her flow came up. At least it isn't just me, she considered, knowing less than half of what was going on inside the samurai. That was fine for now, though. Therrye didn't like to force secrets out of anyone.

"I know a great late night burger joint." Settling her tab with a swipe of a cred-stick, she stepped out into the comparative quiet and cool air of the night. Her bike wasn't far and she looked forward to sating a different sort of hunger - even if it did nothing to address the one left pulsing in the wake of their entanglement. The change in situation helped to ground her again; she had no real clue what to think of Aolieon's effect on her, let alone what it might become in an even more charged context. Thinking about that brought a tremor of excitement through her chest and more color to the back of her cheeks. Nothing about it struck her as manageable in the ways she was used to interacting with other femmes, and yet, that didn't actually bother her.

On the way there, she glanced over at Aolieon a couple times, curiosity continuing to nag at her. In truth, she had so many questions for the woman, but with what little she knew of her, it would be nearly inevitable that vast stretches of her history bristled with proximity mines. Small talk would just be so.. banal, though. Especially after everything they'd already experienced. She decided to pick a statement, then, that offered plenty of options for response. "For a woman who seems like she could kill or claim near anyone in this city," Therrye gave her a mild grin and continued without a shred of judgment in her tone, "You seem to much prefer flying solo." One implied question stood out among many. Of course, she didn't have to say anything, either.

Whatever her answer, Therrye slipped on her helmet and waited for Aolieon to join her on the bike before starting the engine. Whatever her reasons, that she was following her now made the bruiser want to see more of her in every sense. Aolieon seemed like a woman who was one in a million - maybe even one in a billion.


The drive took them to a different section of the city that was not less dangerous, exactly, but more balanced in the types of people walking its streets. More eyes and more variety made it a little less likely to get mugged or zeroed here, not that that was any reason to drop one's guard. Therrye pulled down a narrow street between two towering buildings and killed the engine after parking. Nestled to the side between walls belonging to larger operations and establishments lay a well-lit door with a neon side above it: Jerry's Burgerz. Its interior was as unassuming as its exterior, with plenty of expense spared. That it was relatively clean was the best compliment one could pay to the thin, uncushioned booths and tables inside. The smell, though. While it wasn't real meat - nothing so street level ever handled such a luxury good - the blend of spices and ingredients made for a mouth-watering combo. There were only four options on the board for synthetic 'flesh' between simple buns (Burger, Cheezburger, Double and The Workz), with a single option for side (Friez), and a cooler of a few staple drink choices (with only the one choice of alcohol - cheap beer) visible just past the order counter. All told, the operation was small and no frills, but every booth was packed with chooms chowing down.

Therrye went to the counter manned by a balding, pot-bellied, middle-aged Human. "Hey, Therrye," he spoke dryly, like he was perpetually dehydrated and smoke-throated, and refused to do anything about it. "How's business?" "Still breathing, so no complaints." The man - Jerry, presumably - grunted with the mildest amount of good humor and looked to Aolieon. "Thanks for bringing another new customer. What can I get you ladies?" Therrye offered a much larger smile than Jerry had perhaps ever worn in his entire life. "Better that you're the worst kept secret." She didn't spare the menu a glance. "A Double and a Workz, cut in half, and two Friez." A look to Aolieon, then. "That enough to split?" The bruiser already had a cred stick out, so it was easy to intuit that she was paying; between their pay day that night and the fairness of the prices, the question was clearly a matter of hunger rather than affordability.

Once the woman added whatever she wanted to to the order, she paid and then slid to a side wall that wasn't already occupied by customers waiting for food. Therrye's gaze slid down toward Aolieon's hands for a beat and returned to her eyes. Despite the completely different vibe here, the tug in her chest toward the samurai hadn't gone away. She distractedly rubbed her arm, not giving enough conscious attention to note the strange sensations lying beneath muscle and dermal plate. "I've tried dozens of burger places like this in the city, but nothing even comes close to Jerry's. With whatever he puts in them, I'm sure he could go much bigger." A glance back toward the proprietor, who was already busy grilling more patties while a taller, twiggier woman could be glimpsed assembling orders. "Pretty sure he just never wants to deal with a Corpo again if he can help it." The look she gave to Aolieon while she said that was meaningful. While the patter sounded entirely like small talk, there was no lack of resonance in the statement and Aolieon's demonstrated sentiments back at the Geraldi black site. Curiosity then lied in her follow-up: "Why'd you leave one of your blades back there?"
 
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For Therrye, what was flying between them was likely a new range of emotions and feelings she had never felt before -- the same could not be said for Aolieon, as she had melted her guard for one purpose in particular, and that was to live out tonight in at least one particular was that she used to, long ago... it wasn't hard for Aolieon to fall back into the practice of being compulsively touchy-feely, even if darker pressure points in the back of her mind were reminding her that she couldn't let it last. When Therrye moved in such a way that her support fell from beneath her; one of Aolieon's hands flowed down Therrye's back to wrap itself around her lower back as to not let her pull away from it, and while she was prepared to enter a sort of kneeling position in between her legs, it was assisted by one of Therrye's hands sweeping down to her butt to keep her supported. Truly exquisite; she found herself not at all minding as this enigmatic woman was consuming her. I could get used to having this again... Aolieon thought to herself. As she struggled to remain in control, she let out another fluttering moan as Therrye clamped on her bottom lip. Against the current of her inner Demons and the complex thoughts and things, something flashed in the back of her mind, as falling into these sensations and old habits brought back memories harkening back to brighter days, which she wanted to remember...

... "You're a fucking pillow prince, you know that?"
The dilapidated slum apartment they had just done the deed in sported a fire escape leading down to a trashy alleyway of Night City; skyscrapers, rusty metal awnings and lines of laundry littered the air above it, as they were able to gaze from maybe three stories up. Aolieon was zipping up her flight-suit and replacing weapons and gear upon her body, while A man with a textured long black hair held together in an unkempt, Ronin-style ponytail and a goatee lit a cigarette before checking all of his ammunition and his biomonitor. He wore a simple black tank-top, night-camo fatigues and steel-toed biker boots, throwing on a leather Nomad jacket that had been a gift to him. Random tattoos, advanced cyberware, His facial cybernetics activated, bringing down his shades from crescents around his eyebrows, and he pulled a pistol from it's holster to perform a functions check. "And you're fucking insatiable, dancer. We're about to raid a Max-Tac warehouse; I need you focused and on your toes, so I hope you've gotten all them emotions out of your system." He picked up a high-tech Arasakan katana and strapped it to his belt, adjusting it so it wouldn't be in the way on the ride. Aolieon strapped her shoto-katanas to her back, reloaded a MAC-10 and some other goodies before she whirled around and came up close to the man, rubbing his chest while he pulled up data on his communicator to review intel. With his free hand, he pulled his cigarette from his mouth and sighed as he looked into her eyes with a look of contemptuous seriousness, which became softened by empathy as he looked down at her. "Oh, c'mon; don't look at me like that... I told you several times; after everything you've been through, I'm not gonna touch you in any way unless you go out of your way show me you want to be touched that way," Aolieon scowled underneath her puppy-dog eyes, and lightly shoved at him as he turned to start walking down the fire-escape.
"Is that why you always make me get on top?" Aolieon conjectured as they began to descend the steps. He took a hefty puff off of his cigarette, ashing it over the railing. "Mm, if you ever want it; I dont make YOU do shit..." he grunted in affirmation, trying to brush off the fact that she was still fixated on something. He curled his lip and smirked negatively; clearly something was bothering her, and he might as well bite the bullet and help her sort it out before the fun gets heated. "I just don't get it; you Humans are so paradoxical. You adorn yourself in cyberware, yet you hold an inflated sense of yourselves as you are -- and yet in the heat of passion of violence, I've seen them turn into such animals. I've even seen ChromeJocks be animals themselves, despite being more Machine than Man... And somehow; you don't have to look far for there to be some moral high horse to sit on." Aolieon pouted a little, allowing a little resentment to throw in her tones as she talked about things she hated, but for her; this wasn't about them -- it was about him. "I love you, and you won't be honest with me all the way -- you refuse to be honest with yourself, even though you do some of the same things... But I know what you're feeling; what you're thinking. I've seen those thoughts; what goes on inside your head, and I just wanna let you in... but you won't let me. Why?" Finally down by the ground floor, the man and Aolieon approached a snazzy looking black Harley-type motorcycle, armed to the teeth and with saddlebags full of the items of war. He mounted the motorcycle, and puffed at his cigarette consciously, puzzling on what to say next -- what she was getting at was a complex question, for sure.
"... Are there alien species who are that much different?" he began, ashing his cigarette and waiting for Aolieon to get on. "Humanity isn't a tangible quality, Aurielle. Being born as a human and choosing to be human are two different things; it's complicated." He looked away, memories flashing to the day he had found her, and all the horrors he had witnessed; flashbacks of fighting cyberpsychos in bloody struggles and Warriors of excessive cyberware; even he couldn't disagree that Humans were such feral creatures, at times... "... the people who subjugated you? They were fucking scum, of the lowest order. The absolute worst kind of people. While it's true that cyberpsychos are a different breed of scum of the earth entirely -- both kinds of people are alike, in the fact that they chose to give up the humanity that held them aloft as people, and they lost sight of what really matters," The man growled at the beginning of his sentence, gripping the handlebars tightly as he reminisced, but having enough wisdom to draw back to the point he was trying to make. Aolieon mounted the bike and wrapped her arms closely around him. Her head came over his shoulder, as she listened intently to every word. "Because of that; it's not enough for you to learn to be a Samurai, Aurielle. It's important that you learn to 'be Human'; that it's okay to give in to your base instincts at times, especially in the heat of battle. But it's also important for you to learn that it's what we Humans choose to do in spite of our inherent flaws; that our actions, including but far from limited to self-restraint and strength of character... all of that is what makes us Human." He turned his head, managing a smile and stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. "You're one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever known, dancer. You're one of the reasons that I know, beyond all doubt, that all have claim to human rights," Aolieon nestled into the affection from his hand, holding it there with her hand and watching as his smile faded. "... but what happened to you, is the reason why many people, including many Humans, aren't deserving of them. Its also why you of all people, deserve to know what it looks like when someone's being human," He turned back around and started the Harley, hankering down and getting his mind ready to blaze a trail at daring speeds. Meanwhile, Aolieon looked onwards, with a pensive and wondrous look -- she couldn't help but mildly smile in the midst of being caught in her thoughts. He always knew what to say... always seemed to say the right things. "Like I said, its complicated. Now lets go... we've got a city to burn." Aolieon's eyes dilated, his brave and hard words calling her mind to action. She grinned and giggled musically with anticipation, pulling out her MAC-10 to prepare for the coming storm they were about to blaze through. Without another word, his Harley roared into action, and they pulled out of the dirty alleyway -- ready to make war on Night City.

Aolieon's eyes fluttered open as they finished kissing -- Therrye's hand on her cheek. She held it there for a moment with her own hands, looking into Therrye's eyes for a minute. She then pulled her hand off her cheek, and looked down at her arm, admiring the cyberware that got her hooked in the first place. She was a far-cry from him, but in some ways, Therrye was a lot like him -- her fighting spirit, her courteous tendencies; her gentle touch, even her cybernetics were in the style that he preferred; fonts of immense power, and tributes to humanity ... but she wasn't him; she couldn't ever come close... Aolieon looked back up into her eyes, a smile creeping up on her face, as a light seemed to die in her eyes. When she shook her head, smoothed her hair back and suggested they could get air -- Aolieon was taken aback... What? This was all wrong; after all of them courting wiles, and she was finding the strength to turn away? She blinked, tilting her head and taking on an indignant look, as she got up and mentioned a burger joint. Aolieon scowled with an appalled audacity to her... but then it muted, as her eyes went back to normal levels. Maybe she was just hungry... maybe she was more like he was than she thought. Aolieon couldn't help but slowly blink and then rise to standing. "Uhm, sure! ... Sounds good." Aolieon withheld the information that she hadn't eaten anything solid in weeks -- she had been chunking on scop for a few days now, because she couldn't be bothered to actually go anywhere and treat herself right, so the idea of going and eating some bona fide greasy food wasn't exactly an averting idea. "Just give me a minute; gotta do something first,"
She ran to the back of the club to find Styrix and Haebi, slowing to a fine strut first. She stumbled a bit in her heels, experiencing a head-rush from moving so suddenly under the effects of all the alcohol, but she managed. She strutted up to them, quite possibly intimidating Haebi into losing a game as he went to hide. She pulled a couple of holo-cards from her crop-top. "I don't usually do this, but here's my deets -- send me a text, and maybe I'll see you again. That was some fancy shooting out there... I could use someone like you, in the near future. Give me a call -- and thank you; for bringing us all together for one night, anyways... I don't know. Don't get it twisted," she spat, before looking at Haebi and saying... "I guess you're alright, too. We're square, after everything. But still, be better. If you're gonna be a netrunner professionally, then you shouldn't leave any relevant information unturned... but you got us out, and ya'll put this girl and me together, and... you know what? Just forget it," She fluffed her hair indignantly, and then strode to catch up to Therrye. "Nice job tonight, Li-Li! Want a shot for the road?" Aolieon shot a glance at Kaede; thought for a second, and then replied, "Ehh, not this time. I've been promised real food... I'll see you around," Kaede's eyes lit up again, but as the two of them left, his eyes weren't fixated on Aolieon -- he was fixated on Therrye. He activated his cybernetic scanners just before they turned the corner, and he pulled her name for his database. As they left his club, he looked down and blushed heavily, chuckling to himself.
In the last two years, he thought he'd never see the day, where Aolieon would turn down a drink for any reason...

As they walked out of the Neon Hearts Nightclub, Aolieon strode up alongside Therrye. She looked down and grabbed her hand, pulling it behind her back to encourage her to rest it on her opposite hip -- She pulled the same gesture, her hand lingering for a moment on her ass before grabbing her hip and pulling her closer as they walked -- not at all did she give her another glance, until they got to her bike. Aolieon mounted it shortly after her and held her close by the waist this time, saying to her before they took off, "... Drive fast and scenic. I want to feel something," Before she carefully nestled her head against Therrye's back. It was all a lie... a beautiful lie, just to buy some time. Her inner demons teased her, heckled her fawning stupidity... But she didn't care -- she was still likely gonna get the girl, tonight. She'd see to that; pretending or otherwise.

"Yeah..." she quietly replied to the implied question of working alone. She had her eyes closed intermittently, watching the neon lights pass by in these slums, while feeling her hair curtain back behind her... it was chaotic-spirited, but somehow comforting. The question wasn't lost on her, she just wanted to savor the feeling of the wind fluttering in her hair and face, to feel it blazing past her. When they got to the burger joint, Aolieon quietly got off the bike, fluffing and straightening her hair and taking on a cooler demeanor; not exactly off-putting but with a sort of diva's energy to it, muted, yet prissy. She pulled Therrye's hand, and held it clasped in hers as she ordered. As she talked to the pot-bellied man, she didn't really pay attention and just stepped close to lightly be grazing behind her. She looked away and around for a bit; realizing how clingy she was being she lightly snorted and pulled away... but she didn't let go of her hand. Something was aching inside of her; not an addiction, but a need to be close without being weird. Aolieon shook her head and scowled, finally finding the strength to let go. What the hell had gotten into her? This wasn't something she was at all concerned with, when pursuing or hanging out with other flings; she lured them in, kept them wrapped around her finger and they were grateful to even feel her skin beneath theirs -- this wasn't how things were done. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She needed to get out of her own head, and regain her composure, after which she smiled sultrily, and just stood nearer Therrye. She listened as she doted on the place, and cut her eyes at the pot-bellied man with the Corpo comment... she squinted and wondered if such a scophead could really have been... nah... Ain't no way. Her head snapped at Therrye when she asked her other question, blinking for a second as she processed the information. "Ohh, yeah..." In the back of her head, she knew why she left it there, but at this point, it seemed a foolish mistake. She curled some hair behind one of her ear/horn sections and seemed to blush lightly. "I... don't know. I can be a little forgetful at times. There's plenty more where that came from, of course... it's no big deal." She turned to Therrye with a simple smile and tilted head...
Then, she reached out her hand and started playing with Therrye's hair. "One might be more curious about why a simple Edgerunner like you was playing it so close to the chest, out there," She turned more directly towards her as her stare got a little pensive, her other hand lightly smoothing down her jacket and finding a shiny metal button to twiddle with as she looked back into her eyes. "I felt those bullet holes you took to your center-of-mass. Sub-muscular armor plating or otherwise -- why were you taking so many bullets for a girl like me?" Aolieon breathed out the words in a flighty, flirty tone as she tilted her head. She locked eyes with her as they dilated a little more; it was clear she was genuinely curious, but there was a hint of jeering to her voice.
 
Haebi did hide, precisely as expected, and after a glance at them, Styrix took both cards. "You are welcome. I will," the Charak stated simply, while the Blixian's eyes remained large behind the sunglasses. "O-okay." Aolieon's run-on sentiments garnered a look from both of them, both after her and toward each other. "... how do you even handle that?" "It isn't too different from staring down a writhing snake." That, somehow, did not inspire confidence in Haebi.

Therrye shot her a smile at the intimacy taken and took her hip in hand. She wasn't a stranger to women placing her hands on places they eagerly wanted to feel the weight of her, but... when was the last time that had happened in public? Another notch added to the mindfuck, the bruiser obliged Aolieon's desire and took the long way.


The contrast between the samurai and dancer, and how Aolieon was kind of clinging to her like a comfort doll, added a dimension to both her background disorientation and the puzzle of her nature. Even with the push and pull between cold distance and warm need, Therrye didn't express a single glint of dissuasion. She held her hand with a gentle firmness and didn't pursue it when she pulled it away. Whatever twisting tangle danced inside of her, she remained present and open without pushing her. Heartbreaking experience had taught her the value of patience years ago, after all.

"You? Forgetful?" Literally nothing about her spoke of unintentional loss of mind; her response came more out of surprise at what seemed like an audacious denial than a desire to pushback. She chuffed and shrugged. Maybe her read on her was wrong. Either way -

Aolieon was in front of her again, a flutter of different emotions playing in quick succession. That was far more unsettling than her question in how it made her want to just wrap her up into a moment where the woman could exist without having to worry and fear for everything outside of her. Of that, she was... forever grateful for the one who gave her that space when she was a blistering mess, lost and alone. Therrye picked up the desire to give the same from those moments. Many were the reasons she was popular with the joytoys, on and off the clock.

The bruiser leaned down toward her, sharing her gaze with an open honesty that didn't bother with concealing affect. "Every job can be our last as Edgerunners. How could I hope for a comrade to protect my life if I won't risk mine to protect theirs?" A small, self-conscious smile followed. "I'll admit I was more reckless than usual. I can't explain that other than knowing it was because of you." Her smile became more affectionate at that, despite the threat of self-destruction recklessness entailed.

Then a bell rang. "Therrye, order's up. Dropped in your favorite sauce." She straightened with a grin and went over to snatch up the just-strong-enough bags that held their food. "Thanks Jerry!" "Anytime," came the desert-dry reply. With no booths being open, she looked over to make sure Aolieon was following her before walking out. It'd been a hot minute seen she'd gotten to chow down on these divine burgers, and there was a glow of excitement and cheer to her as she walked toward where the bike was parked. "The Workz gets piled on with reconstituted shrooms and pickled veg - it's a little extravagant," and she was clearly so there for it.

Taking up a seat against the wall, she divided up the food, giving them each a Friez and a half of each burger. Therrye tore open several packets of thick white condiment with her teeth and squeezed out their contents onto her side, then offered up three to her companion. "If you haven't tried this, it's the best." Her carefree and enthusiastic expression was so unlike the woman Aolieon had met at the start of the job. With the first bite, a sound of indulgent pleasure rumbled in her throat. And, well, it was warranted. Juicy patties with crispy, cheesy edges, stacking richness in the Double and layering intense flavor in the Workz offered up a vibrant experience of flavor without the usual teetering edge of artificiality that most food had for the lower class. A discerning palette could still detect a hint of it - this still wasn't real, actual meat - but the level of care in its crafting was clear.

Snacking down several sticks covered in the condiment, Therrye leaned back into the wall with a contented sigh. Drinks after runs could be nice, but food like this? Always a preem choice. She licked errant bits of salt and sticky white from her fingers and shot Aolieon a smile. There was a simple vivacity in it and no pretense or aim to seem nova about herself. Moments like this carried a lot of reminders for why life felt worth living. Despite it all.

For a spell, her eyes swept upward, past the concrete and neon, to the sky; then to Aolieon, with some affectionate appreciation. Tonight had already been a lot, and so much of it was good. She just wanted to simmer in gratitude for some beats of her heart.

Swallowing the last of her burgers, another contented sound drifted from her. Slowly, she turned back to Aolieon and offered a mildly skeptical, mostly curious look. "This might just be me talking out the ass," she said without displeasure, "but you kind of seem like you hate Edgerunning." Or, at least, like you had no interest in being there tonight. Therrye shrugged, then. "Not that I'd blame you. It's a gonk career path if you want to keep breathing." She wouldn't have considered that as one of Aolieon's reasons to dislike or avoid 'running, though. "You've been in it for at least 6 years, right?" drawing from what she'd said about Kaede. "What's keeping you in the game?"
 
Aolieon listened intently when she replied to her question. Her facial expression contorted into a perturbed look as she turned her head to the side, hearing such brazen altruism come from her. Her eyes flickered with a touch of warmth before going back to normal. She looked off in the distance for a spell, before rolling her eyes and getting sassy again. "Comrades, huh?" She paused when she drank in the comment about how it was all because of her. "Watch out, Night City; we got a bleeding heart over here -- order up! Get it while she's smokin' hot..." She smirked with a derisive giggle, as she stuck out her tongue for a moment and then slowly fell back into smiling at the woman. She didnt hide how stupid she thought that was in her body language; such sentiments could very easily get someone killed... but she found something comforting in those lines.

Not even a handful of seconds later, the bell ranger for their food and Aoli's eyes lit up at the irony of her own comment. Keeping quiet and cordial for most of the exchange, she sighed as they went outside to eat and watched her voraciously devour her food. Aolieon kindly took her portion, and analyzed it; it truly didn't look all that appetizing for a burger, and she held it in such a way as to not get it on her high-fashion. She frowned at the whole thing... and then she took a bite. Chewing on it pensively, something biological came over her and then she just started scarfing it down with the need of a starving orphan. She had the whole thing downed in a matter of maybe a minute or two. She wasn't lying; it was greasy and downright unattractive, but it tasted so good... Definitely a guilty pleasure for the books. She then devoured the Friez just about as quickly as the half a burger went down her throat. Before any decisions could be regretted, she reached in her jacket and pulled out a small roll of antacids, popping one in her mouth in q concerted effort to guarantee she wouldnt lose the first tangible thing in her stomach after awhile. She regained her composure, cleaning herself up after a minute, before processing her question.
"Ohh, me? I wasnt an Edgerunner," she said, mildly moaning as she began licking her fingers clean of the strange sauce offered to her. "I was... something else... something... Night City really didn't want," her words were unwittingly punctuated by her actions in cleaning herself up. That pointed tongue had been used twice now, and she reached for a napkin to clean her hands up and brush any unwanted debris off of her. She had been called many things in her career path; even in a city where crime was just predatory second-nature, they had plenty of names for her... Spree killer, Death-dealer, Edgerunner, mafiosa, terrorist, traitor -- the funniest to her were the legends that said she could only be a cyberpsycho, based on how the legends said she moved and how indiscriminately she killed... but in particular, "Diablo Azul" was one she had to really work to keep buried. It didn't help that even her rampant escapades in the streets was even starting to shape up into its own Myth as Corpos were found dead in alleyways, in precarious positions that told more of a story than any random cyberpsycho killings could. "That's a life I left behind, though. These days, Im just trying to pay the bills; afford nice things, here and there. Being a joytoy or doll is the last thing I wanna do with my life, so when someone needs dying or stealing from -- hey, its better than the self-deprecating alternatives," she immediately tried to redirect the conversation, ceasing her pensive reminiscing by going back to hold her hand, and admiring the craftsmanship of it. "These implants; truly remarkable, very chique..." she began, smoothing her hands across the forearms again, really going for the Inner arm out of some instinct to play, tease and tickle -- even though she knew that sort of thing only worked with 'ganics. "I've seen people get chrome of all kinds plastic and metallic, but yours -- you seem to be going for the ones that really imitate human flesh; while also being cutting-edge," she looked back up at Therrye, grinning lightly with some lascivious mirth. ".. kind of counter-productive, if youre trying to show off. I know enough to know that's also quite Draga, which begs its own questions, but... I'm more concerned with why you choose that style. Got some unresolved issues with your own humanity?" she pouted mockingly, smiling, but her eyes fell back down to it. Something stirred in the back of her mind, but she wanted to know  her answers to these kinds of questions.
 
Therrye cracked up at Aolieon's comment. Her? A bleeding heart? Well... maybe it wasn't completely unfounded. Either way, she felt zero offense.

Seeing Aolieon act so... animalistically indulgent over the food drew another smile. Poise seemed so much of a priority for her. The bruiser had been curious how she would respond to it; even if wasn't truly important in the scheme of everything, it was a mild look into how any given person vibed with street living. Having gone through her own period of homelessness, this viscerally mattered in a way that was hard to quantify. But it told her, if nothing else, that the Liandri could devour like a street choom and didn't fuss over the mess it so often left on one's fingers. And, besides all of that, it really looked like she could use the food. She scarfed down the last of her Friez, happy little noises in the breaths that followed, and cleaned her hands as well.

At Aolieon's explanation, Therrye gave a slow nod. 'Something Night City really didn't want' sounded a lot like something she'd appreciate. It's not like the city gave a shit over the working class and it was truly hard for her to care about the rest. She'd seen the glimmering eyes and glasses of Corpos on the other side of the chain link, jeers ringing out when she took vicious blows, with howls, gasps, and sometimes boos when she dealt her own. Repercussions were due.

So why did she leave it behind?

A flicker of hardness passed through her gaze when she mentioned being a joytoy or doll. Based on what she'd seen of Aolieon, which, given her state of relative undress, was now a lot, there was far more to that sentiment than she gave voice to. She could feel the edge of her storm right at her fingertips, then, hate howling with need. Then she pulled back. "Mmm," she offered by way of reply, to let her know that she knew that redirection was happening. It wasn't chiding, really, but she did sidestep the actual question.

Therrye's fingers pulled inward reflexively at some of stroking along her arm. There was no issue with her nerves working - there, at least. Other places, well. Her body harbored a lot of damage, intentional and otherwise. "I never got the need to show off." A wry look at the dancer. "The most important stuff is beneath the skin anyhow." Her thumb gently and slowly rubbed down the hand holding hers, appreciating the unusual affection. After the easy answer she gave, the rest of the words didn't come out immediately. They weren't ones she gave voice to very often. Therrye's gaze returned skyward so it could unfocus, which wasn't easy at all when looking at Aolieon. She chuffed a little bitterly, which was more bitterly than she wanted. "'Humanity.' Is that the word for it," she asked, rather rhetorically and tinged with disgust. A deep exhale, then. Well. Why not? "So little of my body was my own for so long, its growth and purpose commanded by others." Her free hand tensed into a fist and then relaxed. "When it finally was mine to actually own, I didn't want to lose what I had fought so hard to keep. Giving up flesh just to be stronger..." Therrye turned her head again so she could look into Aolieon's eyes. "I don't want to give everything up just to become a sharper weapon. This," she gestured around them, "is most of what life is each day. A weapon stops enjoying food. Becomes inured to all but the strongest sensations. Obliterates every sense and value that isn't threat detection and damage prediction. Leeches it out day after day until you're hollow." She slowed down there; of the things she was, a monologuer was not one of them. "If I get to have a life, and I do now, then I want to live it for me. Not for how much I can destroy others."

The emotion to the words was heavy in the way something chained up with trauma sounds. It wasn't sad, and it was more spiteful than angry, but mostly it rang with determination. A choice made and kept. Once her words ended, though, melancholy did enter her. She blinked a few times, the corner of her lips tugging upward, as she tried, unsuccessfully, to banish some thoughts. With a slow exhale, her eyelids shut, and a meditative expression passed over her features. Another intentional inhale and exhale later, and her violet orbs were once again visible, the darkness mostly past. A small smile followed. "You don't seem to have much augmentation yourself. So I could ask you the same," she added with a little tease in her voice.
 
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🎶 Ludwig Forssell -- "Regret and Acceptance" 🎶

Aolieon kept her cool, keeping the exterior defenses up more or less around her. But her sultry smile faded when she mentioned so little of her body being hers... It was almost like the light died in her eyes, as she continued to listen intently. This girl said so much by saying so little... So, her hunch rang true -- like her, this woman's life had not been her own for a time. Although, Aolieon couldn't even say that some of her own body was her own... Memories flashed of darker times, of people splaying her open and taking what she never wanted to be theirs; of sticking metal and things and holding her in bondage with leashes intangible and tangible... it was enough to make her eyes shrink into that amber void again, only this time, it wasnt cold sociopathy -- no, something about her was just... dead. Apathetic. Numb to all of the world. The sky began to rumble up ahead, as tiny little droplets fell down, slowly begging for permission to rain... but she was completely cut off from the world. Therrye's words entered her and travelled through a void... it was a bit intimidating. Because a long time ago, she had simply thought herself unlucky -- that what had happened made Aolieon a cruel, heinous victim of circumstance; that Humans weren't that way... finally, she meets someone remotely like her, and it comes to light that the first verse was the same as the second. Something violently lashed out at an ironclad immovable foundation of dogma; declared it lies, screamed that things were exactly as she once thought... she pulled away from that downward spiral, as something in her heart shut it down with denial.
The flowing heavy sigh and change in her energy as Therrye gained control was enough to pull Aolieon back to the surface of reality, but only just. Her expression was sad and empty, full of a burdensome sorrow, as she watched her face toss and turn with heavy emotions; so much anger, hate and resentment... She wanted to reach out and hug her, but something snarled in her; held her back. I've already said too much, I can't... Aolieon's hand tried to reach out, but it didn't make it all the way. The same forces that fended off her inner Demons and prevented her from falling into a break from reality that might have seen her just walk away and lash out indiscriminately -- it injected an intrusive thought, which her mind vehemently protested. You've done enough! The past is dead; bury it. It means NOTHING... it never has. The weak serve the strong, and you are not WEAK; don't give this girl something to lord over you... You've healed these wounds, it's not your job to... but this kind of opportunity will never come again. You may never see her again; may never see another of your kind again... So what? Just show, don't tell... Hmph. Let's test those moral echoes; see if there even is anything worth a damn... Therrye's insinuated, teasing question did nothing to help the war inside her mind -- it made it worse. Still frozen in apathy, something pulled at the surface, fought and pushed past all the toxicity, all of the trauma-inspired mental facets, and... finally called her into action.
In the name of everything-- for once in your miserable fucking life; just try to touch someone's life the way yours was....
This is just a lie -- what happens here will never matter. I'm not a hero; hell, I'm not even a good person...
Ive never made a difference by saving or uplifting people. I'll never be like him; no one can... but I can try to be something else, if not just for a moment...

🎶 Ludwig Forssell -- "The First and Last Words" 🎶

"I used to," Aolieon began, in response to her insinuated question about her stance on augmetics. Her body twitched as these thoughts rumbled and tumbled in the back of her mind... and then, she slowly stood. She brushed Therrye's legs together, and then sat on her lap, straddling and facing her. "In fact... in some places, I still do," Her smile still faded, and she looked to the side; her pupils had shrank but were still visible, with a shadow cast over her eyes. The raindrops began to get heavier, the gutters beginning to trinkle and trickle; Aolieon's hands graced the open flaps of her crop-top jacket, pausing for a moment of hesitation, as she still looked away... then she rolled her shoulders to remove it. Save for the neon miniskirt, she might as well have just been wearing lingerie at that point. Her eyes slowly drifted back to center, still looking down. She gently grabbed one of Therrye's hands, and held it to her cheek. Locking eyes with her, her look still felt like the light had long since faded from it. What remained was not a smile, but the look of someone being quietly showing someone something -- an expression of cold honesty, and maybe even a tinge of solemn empathy. She grabbed Therrye by the wrist in a mildly awkward reverse grip, sliding her hand to the back of her neck, letting her fingers play with the hair for a bit until one of her fingers pressed to the skin. That's when she smoothed up, and it could be felt -- two metallic chevrons, with a tail going down and mild spikes in it. "Zetatech Docilator," Aolieon would murmur underneath her breath so close to Therrye -- this would be an immediate drop of appalling proportions...
The Zetatech Docilator was a niche cyberware feature not seen or talked about a lot, and for an understandable reason -- it was designed for cats & hounds rather than humanoids, as it was multi-purpose tech; it essentially served as a relocator microchip, a clicker and a shock collar all in one, designed to administer non-lethal yet harmful shocks directly to the brain stem. The metal felt fried and disabled -- but it wasn't designed to be removed. Only the most delicate-handed of ripperdocs could tempt such a cyberware removal without damaging the nervous system. She'd sigh lightly, then pull the hand back to the front of her neck. Still locking eyes with Therrye, she'd pull it to where if Therrye wanted, she could grip her neck; her expression still looking apathetic but having a sort of aquatic warmth to it, she maintained her gaze while inclining her head; the expression indicated a certain amount of trust, but maybe it was just utter desensitization and a complete lack of care... Quietly, Aolieon interposed Therrye's thumb to nestle itself upon the mark two inches from her epiglottis, allowing her to actually feel what the brand was -- a heart shape the size of an eraser head, with the letters "CTB RLD" engraved within it. Therrye may or may not have been able to intuit this, but those letters stood for "Chinatown Brothel, Red Light District"
Aolieon leaned her head inwards, hugging her arms around Therrye, and whispering in her ear, "Move your hands down my back," -- slowly, flawless ganic flesh would give way to ripples of scar tissue; when traced, it would reveal lashes that could only be justified as whip lacerations. Aolieon nestled her head in Therrye's neck, not bothering to be affectionate... just taking in her scent. She breathed lowly and lightly, letting her explore her back for as long as she liked. She'd eventually pull away and grab her hand back, to appreciate it for another moment with her eyes and fingers... she'd lock eyes with her again, a touch of daring as she smoothed her hand down her chest, down her abdomen and daring to pull it into her nether regions -- she stopped just in between her own hips, where an very subtle, upside-down chevron spread across the V-line in her hips. She let the hand linger there for a moment, and then she spoke two more words of shock -- "... Cupid's Arrow".
The Cupid's Arrow was sponsored by Trauma Team decades ago, in the earlier years where cyberware was more permanent and experimental. Originally created as a fertility aid, it was designed to simulate electrical currents both in the ovaries and the neural pathways leading to the hypothalamus -- giving others the ability to stimulate orgasms upon command. Due to the irreversible operation of the cyberware and notable defects, it was banned across a majority of states, and the Cupid's Arrow was even blacklisted by Corporation standards -- the only other place it saw use was in black market circles dealing with human trafficking, where it could be fitted with remote controls used in the worst kinds of abuse.

Aolieon held her there for another moment, and while biting her lip, she finally spoke as she got within inches of her face. "I know what you mean... I understand," she quietly spoke with a low rumble to her tone that generated a calm, cool yet powerful amount of empathy, as she wrapped her arms around her neck to pull her into some sort of hug. "... that chapter of my life, it was written and closed. I had some help... I was given back more autonomy over my life than I ever had thought possible. The things Ive learned; the things I had been made to do, just to survive... I've learned to make them serve my own means, now... but maybe that answers your question." Aolieon began to stroke Therrye's hair; the rain had fallen enough to glisten upon their skins, wet her hair and start to make one very cold... but she didn't care. The numbness was evident in Aolieon's eyes... but she didn't want to pull away from this moment. She had shared this with only one other person in her life, and that's because she had no choice... but there were no tears to shed. There was no pain to feel. The rainfall was kind enough to stand in for tears that may never fall for those experiences ever again, and she held herself together. Aolieon lowered her head, turning away. She tried to search for more to say; something to deflect the conversation -- something to save this situation from the dark and hopeless turn if had taken... but her resolve halted, and she couldn't find anything to say or do.
 
The collection of shifts in Aolieon's demeanor buckled the floor beneath the cheer she'd mustered after being so up front about her reasons. Certain questions were rare enough that she could have answered them honestly when they came up, but the asker meant a lot more in determining what and how much she shared. Why, exactly, that applied to the other Liandri, she could not well explain. Not yet, anyway. In being honest to the teasing, casual tone of the question, she hadn't thought much about how it might affect Aolieon. Even if she had, it would have been hard to judge whether or not that made honesty worth it. Regardless, the impact was not a pleasant one and she could tell that much. Pangs of guilt settled into her.

Therrye followed the woman's movements and shifted to give her plenty of space to sit, though the choice of closeness was unexpected. So, too, was her removing her jacket, even in the context of what she had just said. By now, it felt impossible to look away; the need to be present overrode everything else. Something akin to confusion lay in the darkness between her violet rings, though it settled into, well, concerned attention; still, her hand supported her cheek without grabbing it, offering up the warmth of her hand freely.

Despite her lack of dress, Therrye hadn't gotten to see much of Aolieon's back yet. The front told plenty, that was certain, and though she had glimpsed metal on her neck, she had no idea what the spiked tail and chevrons meant. And then she told her, the two words a gallows lever to her heart. That exact augment was used in the fighting hounds raised in the Syndicate dominion where she grew up. Putting that into animals was barbaric enough to begin with, but a sentient? Where the memories of so much pain drew her toward the winds of her internal storm, this expanded the storm itself. Adrenaline seeped into her system in small amounts and this time, there was no flinty steel to the anger that rose, leaving it all naked flame.

At her neck, the fingers gently slid down to the base, drawing back from her esophagus. There was no pressure, no force to be found in her hands - instead, a faint tremor touched the fingers on her cheek.

Much of Therrye's hate rose out of her history, and the endless struggle lay in leashing what she felt on her own behalf. Times like this, when the suffering of another incited it, the emotions remained strong but entirely tamed. It hadn't always been that way, but it was now. Bulling over the person being vulnerable with her with how their pain made her feel was disrespectful at best, and Therrye remained solemn where the horror didn't touch her. Trust as this was sacred.

With her asking, the bruiser slowly brought her hands down the Liandri's skin. All-too-familiar lash scars layered down its surface, along with broken but still-present augment ports. It was a map of misery. Though she didn't touch her like she was a fragile thing, the care in the course of her hands did not waver. When she drew back, she withdrew her hands, then let Aolieon capture one without complaint. Her brows raised, though, as she pressed it to her body and slid it down her front. It had happened with a couple others when sharing their trauma that they immediately wanted to drown it in the familiar state of sex, and that had twisted her insides. She would have been thankful that wasn't Aolieon's intention, except that the samurai added on another two explosive words. It took her some searching to remember what Cupid's Arrow was, a memory of hushed conversation between older joytoys pinging back eventually. That didn't mean she knew as much about it as Aolieon did, but the implications were enough on their own.

Therrye slowly pulled her hand back, not making it want to seem like she'd just been shocked (or, worse, repulsed), even though that well described what was running through her. She wasn't surprised - the story of Aolieon's body including such invasions tracked completely. Her hate for the thing remained separate from how she viewed Aolieon, though, and keeping that clear in her movements and words was deeply important to her. As it was with her own body, she did not see others defined by their past. Shaped, and informed, yet nevertheless free to push into new spaces. New shapes. New names.

Lifelessness was, in many ways, the worst emotional state to try to engage. It could make anything feel unpleasant or restrictive, could infinitely parry all manner of well-intentioned sentiments, and often connected to a deep deathwish. Whatever Aolieon's full set of reasons for feeling that way, Therrye didn't blame her. She couldn't do nothing, though, even if it was as simple as a quiet reassurance.

Shifting her legs to come up more behind the woman, she spoke before moving further, gaze gently searching Aolieon's without any pity or overbearing sympathy. "That was a lot to share. I'm going to hug you, if you're okay with that." At her assent, she did, wrapping herself around the smaller Liandri as one might engulf someone while protecting them from the shrapnel of a grenade. That rain was pouring around and on her didn't seem to register in the slightest. "Whenever you want me to stop, I will." It was an uncertain thing, gauging how firmly she should embrace her, so she let Aolieon decide that. "... but I want to thank you. For trusting me with it." Even if it didn't mean much to her, she would at least acknowledge such a precious thing.

From what she'd learned of the dancer in the past few hours, she suspected drugs and alcohol as her preferred treatment to everything this had brought out in her. Therrye wasn't one to stop her from dealing with her pain in her own way, as long as she didn't do something like overdose. It wouldn't be enough on its own, of that she was mostly certain, but she would give Aolieon as much of what had saved her so many years ago: the support and closeness of another living being who chose to give without expecting anything back. That such a thing could even exist had been a revelation for her, and she hoped that it wouldn't be for Aolieon, yet would treat it that way all the same.
 
🎶 Michael McCann -- "TYM Penthouse" 🎶

When Therrye went in for the hug, she didn't respond at first; rather, Aolieon was a small bit taken aback by it. She didn't expect anyone to react any other way besides negatively, let alone supportively. But after a handful of seconds, she wrapped her arms around Therrye, and accepted the gesture solemnly. She heaved a big sigh, and just sank into her arms for a moment. That was the general gist of why she had been leading her to touch from the get-go after the Nightclub; she was falling into an old habit -- she was pretending that things could somewhat be as they were with another person. But with how she announced her intentions before each movement now; it both was abrasive to her and reminiscent of something. She was both quietly off-put by it because it ran counter-productive to exactly how she wanted to be touched tonight... and she couldn't bring herself to be mad at it, because it was the same approach and energy that someone else had brought into her life.
She smiled quietly in a bittersweet manner, as she began to feel the coolness of the rain affecting her skin. It reminded her of how the rain always seemed to come when there was something big happening in her life; the day they lost a good friend and he declared war; the day she lost him, the day she was found by him... and now this. One of those days was a good one; when they found her crawling out of the basement, malnourished and absolutely terrified but without the strength to resist anyone. His comrades asked him to turn her over to Trauma Team; to pay them a handsome sum of money and let them sort her out. But he just approached her as she backed against a wall, terrified and getting cold from the rain. He draped his jacket around her, pulled her up into a hug; saying much of the same things she did, right then and now... but there was something else he said; something that echoed within her; a promise made, a Giri upheld...
... "Everything is gonna be okay. You're safe, now. I'm gonna give you your life back... and if you'll have me; I swear that no one will ever hurt you, ever again."

She opened her eyes, and a small, warm silver tear fell down her face. So many years had passed, and he had kept his promise. Not just by being her guardian Angel, no -- he taught her how to fight. He helped her hunt that gang of slavers to extinction. He turned fear into a game, and showed her the thrill of the hunt. He gave her the grounded philosophy of how one might look at life... he slowly got her to show her talents that she had learned, and reinvented them into not only tools to better serve her, but showed her what it looks like when someone was deserving of that kind of affection -- what was once the tools of a depraved trade used to survive, was something new entirely.
And now, the rain was showing up once more, to hint that life quite possibly could be like this again. Aolieon inclined her head, looking to the side as she held Therrye, and her eyes slowly drifted up the skyscrapers to the dark blue clouds, showing a somber color that hinted at the coming of the Sun... A color that had come to mean so many things, and as she ran her fingers through a similar shade of blue; could come to mean more.
Aolieon couldn't deny, even though she barely knew this creature. She might not have learned a lot... but by asking the right questions and testing the waters carefully -- she had learned enough. She was a true Warrior; a good Edgerunner, and despite the cynicism, technological perversion and dark trappings of Night City -- she had a good soul. She was good... too good.
As she looked up to the early morning raining sky; there were no intrusive thoughts running through her head for the first time in awhile. No inner Demons, no toxic selfish thoughts... no self-destructive pursuits. Only one streamlined thought, earned justly through all of her life experiences and how far she had come.

Sorry, life. I know what you're trying to do, but... not this time.

She curled her fingers through Therrye's hair, and smiled as her gaze looked back down at the form holding her so closely -- a new energy peeked out from beneath her, and somehow she was back on her own trappings, but with intent. "Ohh, you sweet radiant rimbo," Aolieon began. That low sultry rumble to the femininity of her voice was back, but there was a liquid warmth to the tone, like melted honey. She pulled away and looked into Therrye's eyes, brushing some bangs from her forehead as she used her other hand to pull her own wet locks over her shoulder and away from them. "I've danced for a great many people in my lifetime; friend, foe and lover... but not like that," The smile in her face somehow found the radiance to beam brightly at her, with a visible tinge of flirtatious altruism as she quietly alluded to both the lascivious lapdance from earlier, and her moves at the Geraldi black site. Her eyes were dilated, but somewhere in the middle, favoring a glimmering darkness over warm honeyed amber. Her expression was warm, her body was very warm in contrast to the rain and the creeping morning chill... Her energy was all somehow warm and bright like the first slivers of the rising Sun. Her free hand came up and she poked Therrye in the forehead with two fingers in a doting, almost wisened way despite being so flush with youth herself. "... and we might barely know each other, but we at least know what we're capable of. If I didn't want your hands upon me -- don't you think I would have done something about it, by now?" Aolieon chuckled lowly, her eyelids lowering in a teasing leer when she began that last sentence, but lowering her guard again with the other half. Nothing in Aolieon's energy, body language or expressions betrayed any actual hostility towards Therrye.
"Lighten up, slugger. I won't pretend that your tribulations weren't horrible, or any less deserving of vengeance than mine," Her eyes wandered down Therrye's figure, as one of her hands rubbed lightly at her shoulder. She quickly donned her neon-laced crop-top jacket again, but remained settled in her lap. She twiddled some of her locks between her fingers, her warm smile not at all letting up throughout the entire exchange. "But when it comes to me, it's not that big of a deal... not anymore," Aolieon visibly shrugged and blinked, tilting her head and lowering her eyelids in a clandestine squint, as if to quietly say, I took care of it. Her gaze dropped, and she picked up one of Therrye's hands, interlacing her fingers between hers and gripping them firmly. "You've clearly taken the changes made to you and reinvented yourself in a way that best allows you to live your own life..." She pulled her interlaced hand close to her chest, above her own heart. She slowly blinked, averting her gaze directly back into Therrye's eyes. "... so have I."
Aolieon inhaled deeply and sighed, still feeling the heaviness of the scenario. But still, she fought at it; trying so hard to be the light that this moment needed. Her eyes drifted away, and she turned her head as she momentarily bit her lip, resisting some urges while also struggling to find the words to say. "I'm not very good at this whole 'talking through trauma' thing, really; it's usually a good idea to assume that people will figure shit out on their own..." she clicked her tongue, but she turned back to her, lightly placing a hand on Therrye's collarbone. "But if there's a possibility you're still sorting some stuff out..." Aolieon tilted her head slightly down, as if to address the issue seriously but with warmth. Her smile faded for but a few seconds, that slightly dead look coming through without betraying her earnest approach. "... I'll happily let you know now -- there's some people in this world that I'd kill for free." She wasn't trying to redirect quickly, but she was still trying to keep things warm and approachable; it may have been grating on her nerves, and she was to a degree channelling someone else rather than herself, but... there wasn't any way that it wasn't to a degree, genuine. Despite that, she took a moment to boop her nose with her other hand, as she ran the fingers of her other hand through her own hair. Her eyes drifted, as thoughts swam to the surface trying to dissuade what she felt the nerve to say next, but... as the sky grew lighter and the rain seemed to show no signs of stopping; as revelations of the past hour came to the surface, and the echoes of a bygone age spoke something of remembrance -- the words of a concept long forgotten slipped from between Aolieon's teeth.
"On my honor -- what's left that I still hold dear -- you can always have my Sword, if you can give me a good reason why."
A Giri -- one she cursed herself for, because something in the back of her mind swore equally that she was gonna regret it. It ran counter-productive to a good deal of what she had gotten her hands into, least of all the realization that this girl didn't need to get caught up in her maelstrom of ulterior motives -- it ran counter-productive to all her designs... all except one.

Aolieon bit her lip. Hard. There was something to be said about still sitting in the lap of a cute razorgirl, and she still wanted something, but she felt that what she had said had made the whole situation awkward. So, she tried to propel the situation forwards from that point.
"So... don't worry about me... or touching me wrongly in any way," she chuckled with a half-smirk, playing with her hair teasingly once again. She couldn't deny that that was something she liked about her. "You're a good person, slugger. There's a few things about me, and a few hunches I have about you -- they tell me that you're a great many things, but a gonk isn't one of them. I doubt you could mishandle me, if you tried." She leered a little bit, almost as if daring her to try. But she slowly stood up, pulling her up to her feet and wrapping her arms around her waist in a sort of loose hug. She inclined her head, looking into her eyes smoothly, before her eyes shot up to the sky. "Moon's getting real low... we should probably think about getting out of this weather," she began, before closing her eyes and slowly moving her head to lightly touch foreheads with Therrye. Her left hand came loose, allowing the right to pull her in lightly while the other went to lightly grip her forearm. Aolieon slowly opened her eyes, looking into Therrye's with a soft yet meaningful stare. "... but I never really minded the rain." She sort've swayed side to side with Therrye for a minute, before pulling her head away to keep deliberate eye contact with her. She looked down for a minute, lightly licking her lips before huffing lightly and finally confessing something she had been holding back for awhile now... Something she decided that she needed to finally let loose.

"... Name's Aolieon, by the way."
 
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Of the responses she had anticipations toward, hearing the words "sweet radiant rimbo" was not one of them. A clipped laugh followed. It didn't cut through the solemn on its own, but the return of levity was... pleasant. Aolieon made it clear that she didn't want to stay in the waters of her past any longer and Therrye would respect that, letting the somber weight at the edges of her expression lilt away. That didn't revoke what she now knew, though, and new kindling had been added to her fire, fresh curls of emotion rising from it. Another weight added to the list of anathema. Even if exactly how dead and buried Aolieon's slavers were was shared with her, could that have stopped her?

The obvious question was on her tongue, but it didn't come out. Out of whatever the samurai seemed to think of her, she could not intuit the reasons behind treating her differently than those in her past. Fingers poking her forehead refocused her attention. It was hard not to respond to the teasing leer with some melancholy. But casual works and bleak implications were often how those like them dealt with what had happened to them. Aolieon's insistence that her past wasn't that big of a deal, anymore, twinged at her. Which of the two of them was she trying to convince? Or was it truly as best as one could hope for? Even with her implication of having taken retribution for it, all of Therrye's personal experience told her there was no burying the burning heap of her history. Every vengeful death from her hands felt right, but it never made her feel better. She had no reason to doubt her, though, so she let it go, and gently applied pressure to Aolieon's chest when she laid their hands on it. "I can tell." Therrye gave a small smile, then, the first one since Aolieon had begun sharing in response to her doing so.

She had little experience that agreed with Aolieon's sentiment on people figuring their own shit out, but if that was hers, Therrye was happy for her. The bruiser fully believed she would have ended up dead or imprisoned by now without the help of several others giving her new directions to turn herself toward instead of falling into self-immolation. Giving voice to that wouldn't have felt right, though. "I don't know what else anyone could do for me anyway," and she meant it. After all the support she had received, after years of building a new life from the scrap she'd torn free from the cage, the hatred hadn't gone away. It just... co-existed with everything else. If more murder would have doused it, she would have dove headlong after that in the time that followed the ambush from Balgur that nearly killed her. Still, there were more people she wanted to put into the ground, and Aolieon was exceptionally capable at that.

Her nose crinkled with a little wiggle at the poke to it, and she quietly watched as the woman wrestled down the words for what she said next. Therrye listened, and offered a solemn nod. "Thank you." That night, she'd never expected to take her up on that and ask her to follow into the storm of bullets she had begun making plans for. A great deal would change between now and then, though.

Therrye returned the half-smirk, albeit without so much playfulness. 'A good person.' Would she think if she knew how much blood stained her hands through the decades of fighting with everything she had? Well, given her propensity for violence, quite plausibly. "You've been through layers of hell already. Worrying about mishandling you was never what I was about." The Liandri would have touched her, then, if she hadn't stood up. Following suit, she gave her a serious look, though it wasn't one of sorrow or displeasure. "Giving you a choice was the important part." The moment lingered at the touch of their brows. Therrye's gaze sought hers with curiosity, but shut as well since she stayed that way. So many casual intimacies had filled the last hour, giving a flavor of surreality to the night. She gladly enjoyed them all.

Nearly five years had passed since she had been outside of closed doors with a heart so open. She had been much more fragile back then, despite thinking she'd cemented the pieces of herself together into something new. Something not so broken. The words she'd spoken beneath the falling rain were rebuked with finality; they didn't need any harshness to shatter her and sever the dream that had been building up inside of her. That wasn't the day she 'grew up' - such things happen over the roll of years, a collection of small and large growths bundling into the sort of result that saw a sapling become a tree - but it was the day she stopped believing in miracles and rainbow-drenched futures. To have come to that hope, after everything she'd lived through, and then have it cut down without hesitation broke a part of her that all the violence and pain never touched. When she came back together, it was built with distance. She chilled with plenty of folk while never allowing anyone in through the storm; getting to see her through it, a rock against all, was plenty closeness. Event after event since had taught her the wisdom of that distance and the lethal danger in others becoming targets on account of proximity.

Aolieon had seen some of her fury, on account of her no less, and still chose to be so vulnerable with her. That wasn't unique, but her doing so outside of the context of a sweat-laced tangle of a bed was... different. The only other times she'd seen something like it was with a few souls who had gone through exactly what she had, and she'd been the one to doggedly persist in making that happen. This night was made up of so many choices from the dancer when she could have easily pulled away, kept her entirely behind a wall, or dropped lie after lie.

She wasn't so much of a leadhead as to believe in 'love at first sight' or any trashy romance rot like that. Their first half hour together ran completely counter to that, honestly, but despite all of that, there was connection here. Letting that slip away on account of painful memories would be an utterly braindead move.

When Aolieon looked back into her violet eyes, there was an acceptance there that hadn't solidified before. Whatever pain might follow, she had said herself that living was the choice she'd made, and this felt more like life than most of the years she'd passed since seeing the dawn. At the sound of the woman's name, warmth and brightness filled her smile. That's a gift few ever receive, isn't it? Therrye leaned in and gently booped Aolieon's nose with her own, some of the heaviness in her lifted. "The graceful dancer does have a name." The urge to tease further flickered vivaciously, but she chose not to let it out for now. Much, anyway. "Therrye." She turned her had as she took one of the woman's hands and lifted it to her lips, gently kissing the knuckles and then looking sidelong at her. Though it was plenty playful, there was not a shred of mockery in her earnest words. "It's an honor to meet you."

She turned toward the growing rainstorm, smile still very present. "Let's take the scenic route, then." Keeping her hand, she led Aolieon back to her bike before letting go; rather than get on first, she picked her up by the hips and set her on it. While that was plenty unnecessary, it left Aolieon's back to her so that she had less option for pushback when Therrye's much bulkier jacket settled down around her shoulders. The woman was practically in just underwear, and driving at speed wasn't going to be very comfortable. Getting the Liandri her own helmet crossed her mind, briefly, before she shook her head and put on her own to mount her bike. That was way too forward-thinking. She wasn't the type to Uhaul, really - it was the concern over what would happen in a crash that was at the front of that notion.

Arms now bare and exposing the tattoos filling up much of their pale violet surface, Therrye took off toward her place. With too much to pay attention to for her thoughts to safely drift, they simply faded away while she focused on the drive. The warmth of the companion at her back never seeped down beneath conscious awareness, though.

Her current home was only one district over, so she routed to the end of the one they were in before taking the bridge. In terms of class, there wasn't much difference between the two districts, and while they held plenty of tall buildings between them, none of them rivaled the Corpo towers further off in the distance. Therrye remained a street kid through and through. The mid-height structure she eventually pulled into - Joege Block, per the black metal lettering facing the street from the second level - was largely apartments, interspersed with businesses as they always were in these kinds of districts. An underground parking structure, small access tunnel and elevator all requiring an access pass were the only security measures provided beyond one's deadbolts. That the dirt and grime was just modest spoke more to a level of community care than it did any active efforts to police or clean the building's interior.

After parking, Therrye took Aolieon's hand in hers, having taken her words to heart. Leading her to the elevator, she keyed in the fourth floor and then stood back, not wanting to spread all of the water in her shirt and jeans onto the elevator's wall. Therrye glanced over to her with a settled warmth, despite the chill of the ride. Even if the dermal plates didn't actually help keep the upper layers of her body warmer, body heat was something she didn't lack in the slightest. "The view's kind of nice from the roof," she said offhandedly, thinking of what Aolieon last said to her. The bruiser truly did enjoy looking upon the neon lights and towering structures of the city; she wouldn't let darkness hiding within them keep her from the simple pleasure, though megacorp towers still earned a scowl.

On the fourth floor, there were multiple spaces throughout the ring of walkway where people conversed, cooked, and chilled. Two staircases ran vertically at the corners of the two open columns which separated the interior of the building into the outer wall of apartments, a middle bridge section of more of the same, and areas next to the staircases for commercial activity. A group of three chooms waved at them as they passed, sitting out in three salvaged lawn chairs. "Yo 'Rye. Looks like you're having a nova night." The smile the bruiser shot back had an easy familiarity. "You don't know the half of it." Casual chuckles were shared and one of them lifted a beer in their direction. None of the three leered at Aolieon, perhaps surprisingly, instead giving friendly curiosity. Therrye briefly looked across the 'plaza' of the level, but quickly turned her attention back to her destination. Keying three locks of a door with a black metal "46" on it, she opened it for the dancer. "After you."

As expected by everything about Joege Block, the size was modest. An open door led to a bathroom almost immediately to the right of the entrance, and a tiny alcove and several hooks lay on the left wall, separated from a closed closet taking up the rest of the left wall ahead. A short hall led down before opening up in both directions, with a kitchenette filling the left side, a comparatively large bedroom on the right, and a window visible in the wall opposite of the entrance. The lack of any defined living room or doors separating off anything but the bathroom made for a bare but efficient layout. Once down the hall, a small desk with a main and smaller secondary vidscreen could be seen tucked into the corner.

Rows of small lights ran down the ceiling of the hall and continued along the border of the bedroom, coming to life with a soft level of illumination with the opening of the door, along with several globe lights of varying sizes above the bed. The bit of wall next to the bedroom held a rectangular, metal-plated rendition of an old piece of art: Botticelli's Map of Hell. It had been placed sideways, though, and a close inspection would reveal that small etchings had been made across its surface, adding tiny details throughout a third of the piece. A column of faintly purple glow-in-the-dark stars, half just the outlines, covered a fourth of the wall next to the fridge in the kitchenette; that space was otherwise bare of decoration. The rest of the place's character lay in the bedroom. Band posters and album art collaged on the wall next to the window, with some doodled art interspersed throughout it. Several small circular synthboard discs hung on the wall above the bed, carved to make neo-medieval and geometric-style art. A couple too many cushy and firm pillows of varying sizes, laying on pale grey sheets that ended up being one of the most expensive things in the entire apartment - a fact one probably missed until they got to touch them. Fiber art hanging from plasteel shaped like tree branches hung off of both the ceiling and the wall to the right of the bed. It may have been hard to spot at first given that section of the room wasn't currently that illuminated, but on the wall in the space between the desk and the bottom of the main vidscreen were was a wide row digital display showing several photos. Only one of the photos looked like it might contain Therrye.

After entering and closing the door, the bruiser removed her shoes and set them close to the door, away from the rest. Unlike her companion, she hadn't actually gotten a chance to clean off at all since the run. Blood, sweat, viscera and gunpowder still clung to her body, even if the rain had made a dent in the mix. "I'm going to take a shower," she stated, pulling off her sleeveless T and revealing a soaked black no frills sports bra underneath. Therrye then paused, briefly mulled, and offered, "Unless you'd like one first." Without a clear answer in the positive, she walked into the bathroom, tossing the shirt into a hamper, and grabbed a towel to offer to Aolieon with a smile. "Make yourself at home."

The bruiser pushed the door with her foot, not even getting it to shut - clearly not a priority to her - and peeled off the rest of her wet garments before starting the shower. In the moments while it actually got to being warm, Therrye took the time to peruse the wounds she'd been dealt that night. Where the two bullets punctured her torso, she could have taken a perforation to her liver and her guts. Either would have been deeply unpleasant, and both together nightmarish. She exhaled, silently thanking that the plates had blunted the bullets from punching through the synthetic muscle beneath them, and decided to get an upgrade for at least the gear in her torso when she went back to see Kara. Flatlining wasn't in her cards yet, as long as she had any say in the matter.

Stepping into the spray of water, Therrye breathed out some of her tension. It wasn't quite as hot as she liked it, but a warm shower eased a lot, and it'd been a long stretch since the morning. She closed her eyes and let it run down her scalp, neck and shoulders. A hand came up and rubbed at her left shoulder; the old plates there always gave her trouble and left her muscles unhappy most nights. Relaxing was a struggle for her oftentimes, with this being one of the few exceptions she could routinely experience. After a few minutes of just enjoying it, she started actually cleaning her hair and body of the day's work. Leaving Aolieon waiting would be rude, after all.
 
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Aolieon kept a warm smile on throughout the whole exchange, deciding that her responses in the contrary to what she was saying were best left be. After all, she had known this girl for only a short amount of time; while she had some terrible experiences comparable to her own, and she sensed an unresolved need for vengeance within her -- Aolieon wasn't here to solve her problems. Vengeance may have been it's own bottomless pit, but there was something to say about a few extra steps taken; to ensure that a lesson otherwise perpetually denied would be learned, and in doing so carry a heavy cost none would soon forget... But that was a story for another time. A story not reserved for strangers -- more importantly, Aolieon was no Angel, no matter how hard she might try to emulate one... Still, even Aolieon learned the lesson of vengeance, despite having more success in her endeavors than most. Perhaps Therrye would, too...

Aolieon chuffed as Therrye got all warm and bright on her at the mention of her name, watching her kiss her hand like she was addressing some kind of neon princess. She couldn't help but smugly grin, as she brushed some wet bangs out of her face and lightly doted on the gesture with a blush. "Therrye... such a lovely name," was all she could manage to get out, as she sighed flightily in quiet relief at seeing Therrye manage to cheer up on her own, and bring that fine personality back into herself that she brought to Neon Hearts. Aolieon's smile could not fade as she was led to Therrye's bike. Seeing herself be led first, she tried to mount on her own, but exclaimed with a teardrop note of surprise at being lifted herself "Oop!" she snapped her head at Therrye, blindsided at Therrye's audacity, but she let it roll off of her with a mild giggle. She cut her eyes indignantly, as if belittled by the exchange, but intrusive thoughts rejoined the chorus of thoughts, as her mind drifted to what other kinds of things she could do if Therrye could lift her in such a way... She fawned momentarily when Therrye draped her jacket over her. "So chivalrous..." she doted mockingly, sneering lightly as she began to mount the bike in front of her "... You're not going Bohemian on me, are ya? Ain't gonna get full of yourself and style that hair into a greasy pompadour?" she giggled a little more, but the mocking laughter died down as Therrye settled in the seat before her. Her eyes went all over her tattoos, and she couldn't help but lightly brush her fingers down an arm or shoulder or two before she started the bike and made it along her way.
She held tight, admiring the new features of her body. The jacket was certainly warm and thick; typical Edgerunner gear, she was surprised it wasn't heavy with thin body armor plates of it's own; 'twould be a good idea, but it's clear she had faith in her dermal plates. She really DID like to dance close to the fire... She sighed breathily and then nestled her head in her back like before, practically hugging her and letting one of her hands rub up and down upon her abs as she closed her eyes... She couldn't deny how tempting it was, to just let her in all the way and let her become a part of her life, but she couldn't. Still... this would be a night to remember.

She lightly noticed when she took her to a new part of town, opening her eyes to take in the sights and even mildly make tactical mental notes -- that's when it dawned on her; Therrye was finally taking her home. The quietest of sharp inhales saw her heart shoot up into her throat, and then an exhale saw her regain composure without ever feeling like it was lost. Again, what the hell? she thought to herself. It still puzzled her how Therrye was able to so easily get underneath her skin, although some of tonight's revelations were a little bit telling. Regardless, She took in another breath through her nose, shutting her eyes tight and then opening them to fight off that vulnerability -- now wasn't the time or place for that nonsense. She couldn't deny a sort of amorous thrill that came with this one; it was almost like this was one of her first swings, and that bothered her in a self-reflective sleazy way. Still, she brushed it off quite easily, reapplying her sultry smile as Therrye removed her helmet and took her hand in hers. As they walked in the elevator, Aolieon subconsciously started straightening herself out, fluffing and wringing her hair on the floor, touching up her garments, checking her make-up in the reflection of the elevator keypad -- it immediately say "CYBERWARE NOT RECOGNIZED", quietly revealing Aolieon had no ocular implants -- something even most 'ganics came with. Aolieon scowled, and rubbed lines across her face and lips with her middle fingers to make it look a little bit cleaner. She then tossed her hair back and regained her composure as she pulled on her miniskirt and looked back at Therrye. She blinked and tilted her head. "Really? I might have to take you up on that sometime," she commented, unable to hold back a lascivious wink and a giggle as she seemed to allude that she liked rooftops too, but for her own reasons. She doffed Therrye's jacket, hanging it by the collar on her finger and draping it back behind her. She'd give it back or optionally keep wearing it, but it quietly cramped her high-fashion style right now. She felt better, but it still denoted a mark of ownership she subconsciously couldn't bring herself to notice she liked. When they passed her friends, and she commented to them about her night, Aolieon turned her nose up in an off-putting disdain, before casting a derisive eyebrow at them as she passed with her diva-like strut. Part of her just wanted to instinctively cut them off from leering at her as guys were prone to do, but she reined it in when she realized they were good chooms. When they got to her apartment door, she mentally took notes of the floor, the flight path and the room number -- not that she'd ever consider coming back without a reason, but somehow she found it to be worthwhile information. "Ahh, enchante, madam." she shot one last sassy remark at her before walking in and taking in the surroundings.

She walked in and her smile melted as she started taking in all the curiosities and colors around her. She stared at the metal painting of the sideways tornado for a little bit, tilting her head and getting pensive. She looked back at Therrye as she offered her the chance to take a shower -- the sight of what lay beneath her sleeveless tee drew a breath from her throat, and she couldn't help but stare for a spell. She started twiddling an errant curl and smiled back at her, the color in her face turning a couple of tinges violet on it's own as she bit her lip and scanned her up and down again. "I'm fine for now, thanks; do whatcha gotta do," she replied without missing a beat. Her smile cooled itself and brightened a little. "I will," she concluded, before looking back at the painting.

As Therrye occupied herself with the shower, Aolieon quietly walked through the little apartment, taking in all the sights and decorum of the place. Clearly, she had taken the time to decorate her own place and she had taken pride in it. She debated smoothing herself upon the bed, but she pulled herself back from the plush, atmospherically lit centerpiece of what was possibly the largest room in the apartment. Save it for when she wants you there, an intrusive thought told her. She sighed flightily again and then started admiring all the art pieces on the wall. A rocker girl, hu? Figures; all that spice, it had to go somewhere other than in someone's face... she mused to herself sassily with a quiet snort, but there was something melting inside her as it began to point to a void within Aolieon's soul. She stepped closer, and inspected the doodles and synthboard discs; all of the fiber art too, seemingly original pieces of the mind that showcased a depth of color and creativity she certainly hadn't seen before... When's the last time I did anything like this? Have I done anything other than dance my nights away? Aolieon pondered, heaving her chest with sadder thoughts. Had there ever been a happier time before she was in chains, where she might have done something like this? She couldn't remember. All there had ever been were the dark spiral that broke her down into nothing, and the journeys taken to build her back up. But all around her was the domicile of someone who had experienced a dark spiral similar to hers -- and her room was spilling over with life, aesthetic and expression. She looked down, lowering her head, then back at the big creative piece of synthboard discs made into art. Perhaps I should try some new things, get a hobby... the thought was immediately devoured by the dark smoke inside her mind. Her hobbies were Death, drugs, derriere and dancing -- all that took up too much of her spare time.
Of course, dimly lit as the space may have been; the picture collage nestled snugly within a nook down by the desk didn't escape her sight. She walked over and tilted her head, musing upon the fact that there wasn't any visible theme, let along a higher frequency of certain people in the photo. She's got so many friends, so many people who light up her life enough that she commits them to memory like this; I wonder if some of these people would miss her, if she were gone... Her heart sank at the thought, when it intrusively got reflected back in her face. Everyone she had ever known that might have been worthy of a photo had either flatlined or had faded into the obscurity that the times demanded of them -- just like her. Ideally, if she were to die tomorrow, there'd likely be only one person who'd even bother setting up a grave in her memory. Others would remember her for her warrior spirit; some might even remember her for how devastatingly desirable of a diva she was -- but none might remember her for who she was.
Aolieon hung her head a little more... her thoughts flickered back to what Therrye said; her words about 'becoming a sharper weapon'... She quietly heaved a breath again and blinked, holding back something that would never come. Have I truly... learned nothing about being Human?
Aolieon stuffed the thoughts back down; it wasn't the time, nor the place. She steeled herself, and after what had only been a few minutes, she quietly sashayed back to the front door. Part of her wanted to leave. This girl had a lot going on; she hadn't built a fortress around herself like Aolieon did -- she had built a garden. Who was she to step into her life, and use her for a night of forgetful reverie? Her own honor punched her in the gut. She turned her head to admire the form of the naked femme, blurred out in foggy glass as she washing herself vigorously and efficiently, clearly trying to speed something up. Aolieon swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked, trying to ignore a touch of silver moisture that had been condensing very quietly. She shook her head, and stared at Therrye, longingly calling forth thoughts from before.
She recalled her touch... her soft introduction, when they barely exchanged words... How viciously angry she got, how fast she drove, how she smashed those turrets to pieces and took so many bullets for her... The warm echoes of her flirtatiousness, the hunger she had at her throat, how she had nearly fallen apart when she danced... the resolve she showed when talking about her past -- the look on her face when Aolieon told her her name...

Aolieon came to after recalling the events of this wild night; she couldn't see it but with her mouth open and heavy breathing; her cheeks had flushed a few shades of violet. Remembering that warm lightning that shot through her veins, that fiery temper and industrial strength, capable of lifting her and rending metal... Her eyes dilated for a bit as she chewed on her lip, and she impulsively (and very quietly) smoothed her miniskirt down, took her jacket off and slooooowly undid the zippers in her boots to remove them from her feet.
Ohh, I'm not passing this up... She prowled over to the side, looking into the shower and seeing the door wide open, she paused for a moment to just look her up and down as she washed her hair, holding her eyes closed as to not get soap in them. Ohh, it was worth it... she debated whether she should just slip in, or if she'd jump from being exposed in a place she had learned to be most vulnerable. Exercising a drop of mindfulness, she brought her hand up to the side of the glass and drummed her fingernails up against it to alert her of her presence. She smiled in that classic sultry way, with a tone of restrained lust in her gaze. She managed to avert herself long enough to unclasp her strapless bra and push her lace panties down around her ankles.
Aolieon was now in her completely bare form for her to see. In addition to all the other scars she had seen, there were a few tattoos here and there; a fleur de lis in between her tits, some nipple piercings, a clitoral hood piercing and a few other features. "I changed my mind," she said, as she lightly stepped into Therrye's personal space, not exactly stepping into the flow, but getting in nonetheless. "I know it's a bit unconventional, but... I figure a place like this should probably save water," Aolieon lightly touched her shoulder with a tiny sneer which melted quickly into a soft look of restrained desire, trying her best to quietly pose an invitation. "... and I suppose we could both do well to... help each other relax a bit, maybe? It's been a long night..." she offered, quietly stepping behind her, and looking around at what was available with a slight puckered smirk. "... you ever had someone treat you while in the shower?"
 
She's actually blushing. Therrye had always found that response incredibly endearing. Given how Aolieon had danced for her at Neon Hearts, and the multiple times she'd seen low affect or a sneering one, she'd wondered if she was too distant, blasé, or muted to feel such things. Seeing it brought quite the grin to the bruiser before she disappeared into the bathroom. Later, under the water, a less pleasant thought brought a melancholic edge to her eyes: She doesn't relax either, does she.


Among the doodles on the left wall, conceptual versions of two of her tattoos were among them: the eclipse on her wrist and the hourglass on her back. Partially covered text was visible on the very edges of the small pieces of paper they were on, penned in the same ink. '...ther down the arm? no, keep that space for the...', and, '...e classic pillars of hourglasses just clash with the st...' A pair of doodles looked inspired by album art next to them, one a swallow twisted in corkscrew through its upper body in neo-medieval style, the other a century-old spacecraft in geometric-style. Despite any associations between individual pieces of art, the whole of it lacked any central theme, and seemed more a collection of aesthetic appreciations and inspirations.

The few synthboard carvings were more in-depth works. One held a leopard moth, looking up toward an old gas lamp. Another, an open tin containing bloody teeth, broken needles, empty vials, and short, blunt metal spikes, with the vibe of a children's keepsakes. Of them, one was done up in a very different style than the rest, looking more cute and comic: a demon in a tee, splayed out on a bed, with a game controller in hand.

Though they weren't visible in this lighting to typical eyesight, dots of photosensitive ink were scattered about the ceiling above the bed, as well as on the globe lights. Only near-total darkness would make them twinkle visibly, but it wasn't hard to tell they looked like a star-ridden sky with their placements and variations in size.

In the reel of photos, indicators on the bottom right corners of some of the images implied functionality. If touched, they cascaded more photos to the right, pushing others to the side, until the indicator was touched again. By splaying out three of the four photos, well over a dozen could be seen in total, featuring nine or so different individuals mostly in candids. The one photo where Therrye was present showed her with her arm around the neck of a young sort and making a gregariously excited expression, contrasting her companion's chagrin. At the end, the one lone photo held a different emotional flavor than the rest.


While Therrye worked conditioner into her hair - it was one of the very few things she gave particular care - her mind drifted between the night's course and associations that came up. Jobs with casualties, dramatic demolitions, enough bodies-become-meat to fill a swimming pool; glittering lights, neon drinks and dancing that felt just as good as connecting a punch; dreary rain, vulnerable smiles and warm drinks shared with very warm women. How long has it been? It had become habitual to meet people out, go back to their places, or use hotels and brothels, but even that had diminished substantially since the ambush, replaced with more time at the gym and, more recently, the range. Her libido hadn't died, far from it, but that bloody night had printed its own associations onto many of her old patterns.

Staying on the fence between major decisions made her agitated. She wasn't walking in place, not really, yet she knew she wouldn't be able to stand it too much longer. She had to choose, and in many ways, that choice looked like life versus intentional death.

The bruiser clenched the left side of her jaw and moved her head. These thoughts were far too jagged for now. Something much brighter wasn't that many feet away from her, and looking for darkness was a waste of that.


Therrye spent too much time putting her body to use to not be more muscle than else, even if her physiology kept the surface softer than a Human with a comparable history and body type. The dip in her waist was modest, her body shape somewhere between an inverted triangle and rectangle for the most part. Tattoos covered much of her back, upper arms, and her left thigh, making up the main adornment of her body - only her ears were pierced, with just three holes total.

Her eyes opened at the rap of nails against the shower door with a mild note of surprise, but it was followed by an easy smile. Even though it'd been awhile since one had been in her home, she was well accustomed to lovers being in her space and had eased some of those particular trauma responses. "Unconventional?" She chuffed, without derision, and did a quarter turn, letting some of the warm water fall onto Aolieon and being better able to look at her. Not that much more of her body was visible compared to before, really, but the shift in context felt... sweet. That didn't stop threads of tension from forming in her arms and thighs, though, as she took in more of her at once beneath her gaze. The dilation in her eyes hid nothing; however the Liandri saw herself, Therrye saw beauty.

Shifting in the shower - it wasn't cramped for Therrye's size, but it also wasn't made with two people in mind - the flow fell across her back while she looked down at Aolieon. She didn't move abruptly or forcefully as a hand moving to the middle of the woman's back and drew her body against her own. An edge of both teasing and desire slipped into her expression. "Are you not relaxed?" Her violet eyes searched Aolieon's with a gentle curiosity before replying to her last question, despite a lack of any good memories trailing out behind her regarding showers and others. "No, I haven't. Have you?" Therrye's other arm went behind her and then to the base of the dancer's neck with sudsy fingers. There weren't any explicit questions in her nonverbals or hurry to her movements as she slowly rubbed across her upper back and shoulders; just curiosity and pleasure.

Given what she knew of the samurai, she suspected that she wasn't touched often, let alone outside of a sultry context. Therrye wasn't devoid of desire - color had risen in the backs of her cheeks - but with the moment Aolieon presented, she wasn't in any rush. She drew back a half-step and turned enough to let water dance across Aolieon's chest, the hand lower on her back shifting to her left hip. Words played in Therrye's mind and then faded as she decided not to give voice to them; those sorts of questions could wait. Instead she let go of the woman's hip, took a partial-bar of soap from behind her, and began rubbing it across her companion's stomach and chest. It wasn't intentionally erotic (or intentionally not), in spite of the charge she felt in her fingers and lips. Sliding so casually into this intimacy with someone she barely met was its own kind of compelling. She still didn't know why Aolieon pulled it out of her, or how to explain away the tug in her chest toward the Liandri, but she didn't have to know why. Just enjoying it was far more important.

Therrye took each of her arms in turn, rubbing down their lengths with her palms and then working back up them with firm circular motions of her fingers, gaze mostly lingering on Aolieon's, but occasionally drifting to what she was doing with her hands. After rubbing into her shoulders, her hands moved behind her neck and massaged the muscles in bands. "Guess you were right about needing to relax." This time, she wasn't teasing at all, and was all warmth.
 
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🎶 Perturbator feat. Dead Astronauts) -- "Minuit" 🎶

In such situations, intermittent as they may have come up, Aolieon always found herself falling into old habits of a natural disposition. Because of the hand that life had dealt Aolieon, she possessed a preternatural familiarity with the intimate facets of the mind, body and soul; a familiarity so attuned to the sensual arts that she was cursed with a dismal perspective that tainted her view of sentients, and didn't discriminate based on race, gender, sexual preference or even cyberware. It was as easy as breath to strip away her intricacies like loose clothing, wield her inhibitions as tactfully as she did the Blade, and fall into habits of bodily reading and intuitive harmonization to another -- she was far from a mind reader or hacker, but she could read anyone like an open book in the bedroom. One thing stood tall as a monumental difference this time -- this one had the uncanny ability to get under her skin, capable of striking chords within her that resonated throughout without missing, and could play her energy like a violin... This did not excite her, it didn't even intimidate her in the slightest -- it entertained her, as her age fluttered to the surface and her talent clad her known expressions, movements and emotions in ethereal silk.
Aolieon's eyelids lowered into a relaxed visage over the eyes. The corners of her mouth curled ever so delicately, and her features softened. Her shoulders dropped, relaxing themselves and her head inclined ever so slightly back -- opening her body ever so subtly, as she intuitively keyed herself in, and carnal forces spoke to her in binary that shaped itself into adjectives from the back of her mind. Welcoming. Coy. Want. Hesitation... Caring. Slow. Aolieon slowly blinked, the smile increasing as she stepped forwards lightly, letting her pull her in and inclining her head back to welcome the stream of steaming water. She closed her eyes and savored it for only a breath, assessing, palating, reaching for sensations with all of her five senses. Her arms slowly went up and draped themselves over her shoulders, allowing Therrye to do what she desired in that moment. The hand came up the back of her neck, and her facial features tensed only slightly as she opened her eyes, as if to quietly affirm the movement. She looked up into her eyes, the few inches in height difference that Therrye had on her now clearer than ever. She opened the windows to her soul to reveal that dilation that wasn't full arousal, but somewhere between empathy and want. She brushed her hands with a searching grip over her shoulders, probing for tension. "... I've had the luxury a handful of times," she spoke softly, the low rumble to her feminine voice having returned but flying quietly on the breath in such a way that her words could barely be heard over the flow of the waters, but they begged to be noticed within her usual sassy, melodic tones. She slowly closed her eyes for a breath, poising her right index, middle finger and thumb to apply pressure to her left shoulder, detecting a spot of tension. "... a girl has her talents; some work better in certain places more than others," she added, undulating her hands to apply some light massaging to them -- she wasn't trying exactly to go for the muscles or pain, but she did want her to loosen up her upper half at least, and rubbed the muscle groups that would encourage one to relax their shoulders.
When her hand fell down to her hip, Aolieon's eyes quietly fixated on one of her eyes, and then the other. Blush. Care. Curious. Anticipation... Restraint. Aolieon's chin lowered as she kept eye contact locked with her, as if to very lowly signal approval of her gesture towards washing her body. Her lips parted lightly, and her hands travelled up the sides of her neck and back behind her ears to push the fingers into her scalp. Seeming to assist with the application of the previous conditioner, she applied a firm but meaningful pressure with her fingertips, angling them so her nails didn't grate against her scalp -- massaging once more to encourage the loosening of muscle groups in the back of the neck and to relax everything above the shoulders. "... You do, too -- relax, darling," she lowly decreed, leaving a hand at the back of her head to continue, while the other one moved to grasp Therrye's hand which held the soap beneath her chest. Aolieon ran her fingers over hers, subtly acquiring enough suds between her digits to apply to her collarbone, slowly but deliberately without much pressure. She went back to the shoulders, the sudsy hand going for the recesses in the collarbone, washing that part of her body while slowly moving towards the spot that Aolieon had from before...

She wasn't exactly trying to do this; not intentionally, but if there was ever any energy coming from her touch, it was slowly worming it's way underneath her skin in small amounts, like snow flurries brushing against the skin -- icy veins of water meandering cracks between materials, searching for something in her to brush itself past... this sort of freeze was not cold and unforgiving, however; it would be more like 'vapo-rub', or perhaps the feeling of aerosolized medicine travelling down the throat; a soothing chill, which wasn't at all reaching to the soul or trying to taunt at anything beneath the surface just yet... but maybe it was.
 
A grin of mild bemusement as Aolieon began putting pressure into her shoulder. For every foot of talent, a mile of skill. She wondered how often the dancer felt appreciation; not just want or recognition or fear, but actual, open, needless appreciation. So much of her seemed so determined to be wholly independent, in a world where teamwork meant everything. That was how it was with sentients, really, with additions becoming multipliers, a group achieving well beyond its individual merits; the fullest expression of what a team of Edgerunners could accomplish. Thoughts of ego and vulnerability flickered out as her hands slid up to her scalp and began massaging there. Therrye wasn't insensitive in most places, but the scalp was a special spot for her, one remade from her past into something quite opposite of its history. How it made her chest rise was very unrelaxing, and there was an immediate, undeniable effect. She could tell that wasn't how what she had intended, though, so she exhaled with a bit of concentration to unwind those coils. Therrye chuckled a little, hand moving through wet hair, blinking away the response. "That's not the place to touch if you want me to relax," she said a hint of self-consciousness, but mostly amusement at her self. While it very much was a hotspot, the escalation and intensity of it was more than usual, wasn't it? If she was as sassy as Aolieon, she might have rolled her eyes at herself. Instead, it was just a delight of an experience.

Rinsing her hands, very briefly, Therrye put her fingertips to Aolieon's jaw and slowly slid them up her cheeks, behind her ears and into her hair. It wasn't intentional, but while doing so, the sides and tops of her hands brushed against her horns. As her own gaze focused more on her hands, when they did look back to her face, it seemed - maybe for an entire heartbeat - that she was peering inside of her, rather than just into her eyes. It was hard to tell if it was intentional, if it was even noticed at all. The balance of firmness and care in how she rubbed her scalp spoke of plenty of experience, even if wasn't as much as Aolieon's. Turning her hands into tools that could be used for anything but violence had been a journey for Therrye, yet one she'd thrown herself into avidly. Free of the forces that pointed and unleashed her whenever they so willed, she'd wanted to experience every other option available to her. Massage particularly appealed to her as it used her strength well, while also providing something very intentionally beneficial. Calling it therapeutic for her own issues wasn't a stretch at all, and the visceral contact sealed her appreciation of it for good.

In the midst of so many richly pleasant sensations, an impulse struck her. Pausing the movements of her hands, Therrye leaned forward and placed her lips on Aolieon's forehead, lingering longer than just a kiss, and feeling more... emotive than sensual. After drawing back, a great deal of warmth lingered in her smile. She couldn't quite remember the last time she'd felt like this. Had she ever, actually? It didn't matter in the moment, even if it would later matter more than most things in her life, but the singular heft of it sat bright in her. One of the hands in her scalp drew back and just cupped the dancer's cheek, while a deeply wholesome look came over her. She chuffed at her own earnestness, not that that dispelled it any, and brushed her nose against Aolieon's forehead before kissing the top of her head and then turning that into a nuzzle down her scalp, leaving her lips next to the woman's ear. "Can't say I imagined anything like this in my future when I met you."
 
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Aolieon's smile remained warm, as she saw the discomfort and struggle to collaborate with Aolieon's intentions. Unease. Discomfort. Sensitivity. Reeling... Disengage. The carnal forces issued a command this time, and her hands moved down away from her scalp, making note of the sensations that riled up in Therrye, but not more than that. She slowly blinked, drinking in Therrye's words regarding relaxation -- Aolieon's smile turned into the faintest of leers as she looked into her eyes. "You're supposed to appreciate expensive wine with your other four senses before you taste it," she spoke in that deep sensual tone again, alluded to what she might be suggesting while also lightly blanketing the situation with a hint at what to expect with how she was treating this -- a rare triple entendre, as it also served as a compliment of a subtle order. "... where exactly would you prefer I touch, to help you relax?" She let out a low, melodic chuckle with equal parts mirth and restrained desire, ending it with the mild note of a moan as she closed her eyes and leaned her head forwards to get underneath the stream of water.
Therrye's hands were rinsed and then applied to her jawline. She lightly inclined her head up, maintaining her gaze on Therrye as she gently welcomed the gesture. Her hands caressed her features like lovingly wrapping her head in a harness... Her eyes spiked with dilation, and Aolieon's mouth slipped open to draw a sharp inhale as both of her horns were brushed in that swift movement -- that spike of sensation pulled a scoff from her lungs, which betrayed a ragged and frustrated moan in response to the sensual whiplash of the sensation. Aolieon scowled poutingly at her, but said nothing nor did much else as Therrye began to massage her scalp in her own way. The heated sensations of her fingertips were back, and they were eroding the rear flanks of her brain... Aolieon's eyes closed as she began to breathe a little deeper, inclining her head into her hands and fading out for a little bit as the fuzziness which remained from this interaction dispersed itself down her body until it couldn't be felt anymore. She opened her eyes, and they were back to that telling, trusting amount of dilation from before. Ever the measure of control and mindfulness in her body, Aolieon barely even managed to quiver, as she placed her hands on Therrye's shoulders and decided to continue quietly kneading at her tense muscles. There was something else she had planned to do, but that train of thought had temporarily fallen out of reach...
Peering into Aolieon's eyes in that moment of trust gave way to a form that couldn't decide how it presented itself... It seemed clad in nothing but ribbons. As it danced wildly about, it seemed to stumble and fall to it's knees. A free spirit, a lonely figure surrounded in darkness. It crawled on it's hands and knees and held out it's hand to Therrye. It wept, it cried, it begged... for what? One couldn't be sure... One thing's for certain -- amidst her positive control and cool in this semi-passionate, wholesome situation; her eyes spoke for her body and whatever hid behind them was straining against it's web of ribbons; begging to be touched with bated breath, even though she gave no bodily sign or words consciously that she wanted to be. Aolieon got control of her breathing, and her eyes closed as Therrye leaned forward to kiss her forehead. This sensation was so soft and unfamiliar -- she couldn't recall if someone had ever done this. What was this? This wasn't lust, this wasn't primal desire, this is... I know this. Why can't I name this? Aolieon's eyes opened as she doted on her so sweetly -- still somewhat stunned by what had happened only seconds earlier, she had been made suddenly receptive to whatever Therrye wished to do, but she still maintained a positive control over herself in such a way that she was starting to recuperate her own motions. "Mhm," was the only reply she could manage, before her hands began to move again. They moved down her collarbone to the sides of her torso and to her back in a sort of loose hug, as she leaned forwards enough to let the water fall to the back of her head and down her form. One of her hands began to trace it's finger slowly up and down her spine, the other hand searching and exploring her back, becoming familiar with it's features. She was searching for meaning, for feeling, for something that could help Therrye to catch up, as she fought down her own inhibitions... The ice was trying to find its way in, somehow, somewhere; preferably before things escalated too quickly within this cramped location, although she had been in worse...
 
The question felt like the wrong one to her ears, but the more she poured over it, the more those thoughts leaked through her fingers. Something in her was trying to listen, ears pressed to the wall; trying to tease anything out of the static was depressingly futile. For now, at least, those walls were too thick, old wounds threading with worn alloy keeping it out. Therrye had no trouble noticing the response to her brushing Aolieon's horns, though, and that drew her interest rather dramatically. After those bright rays pushed their way up and out of her, their irrepressible nature fulfilled, she reached behind her and shut off the water. She then put that hand at the base of Aolieon's skull, gently supporting as her other hand drew up to her horns. Therrye's gaze shifted back to the dancer's to observe all of her responses as she then ran her fingertips, ever so softly, along the curve of them. "How does this feel?"

When she was still just a child, the nerve connections to her own horns had been severed, leaving them deadened across her lifespan. That they could hold so much feeling at all in them was lost to the murk of those memories - a blessing, in most ways - and this was the first time she'd ever met another Liandri. Though she was ignorant, her curiosity was immense, both to understand this, and to know her. As her fingers reached the end of her horn, her hand reversed to draw the tops of her nails back down its surface.

The level of response drew a small laugh out of her, her eyes wide in wonder. It seemed something so small and missable, yet profoundly impactful, and it was something she herself lacked. As a brawler, having such sensitivity was no advantage, leading to it being removed in the first place. Nevertheless, a pang of loss struck her. For now, she assuaged it by bringing her hand to the horn further back Aolieon's head, playing along it. Another layer of brightness added and tucked inside, she drew back from that for now, pushed open the shower door, and led Aolieon out of the space after her. Pulling a towel across her own neck, she then opened another and wrapped it around the dancer, pressing it along her to wick up the damp. With her upper body more or less dry, Therrye let her do the rest so she could dry herself off.

Once she had, she dropped the towel carelessly and turned Aolieon by her shoulder toward her - not forcefully, but more firmly than gentle. Lowering her height a little, she brought an arm into the crease between her thigh and ass while the other went up her back and to her shoulder to support her as she hoisted her up. A touch of mischief lay in the look Therrye gave her as she walked them out and to her bed, sitting down on it with her knees before easing off her grip. Sharing her gaze, eyes only half-dilated, she offered a small smile. "Was there something you were trying to find the words for?" It was more of an intuitive conclusion than anything else, and she didn't mind if she was wrong, but she didn't want to drown her in sensations. Yet.
 
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When Therrye's eyes lit up at the sight of her reaction at having her horns touched so suddenly, what was experienced was quite the opposite of the surprise and shock from before; such a reaction at finding her lunar horns to be sensitive always spiked the aroused curiosity of others. Try as she might, when she was releasing her inhibitions, she couldn't do much to hold back her reactions to its touch -- it was one of the stains left on her psyche from the time that she was in chains; a stain that could never go away...
Nevertheless, she found herself prepared for the exploratory touch next time -- and a tad perturbed. Had she not known about this, being a Liandri herself? Her gaze moved up to address her chipped, ground-down horns. A small frown crossed her face which had almost no time to be perceived, as she felt the touching of her horns stir something within her. She had been deprived of such sensations earlier on in her life... In Aolieon's mind, perhaps it was a good thing; these otherworldly appendages had been a curse on her existence in the past, as what was about to come to light made primal beings of rustic libido think it wise to grapple them while railing her. While it was a skyrocketing experience for the other person, making her clench with such fervent sensations -- it wasn't oft pleasant for her, as it made her head spin and drive her near to seizure when they got insatiable with their body movements.

But as fate would turn out, Aolieon wasnt the only one, let alone the only carnal force getting reads on the situation... The water shut off, and Therrye caressed her chin, as if giving her a moment to breathe and lightly warn her of what was coming next. That warm heat extended from her fingertips, augmented by the moisture upon the skin -- the force behind Therrye's eyes revealed itself once again as they locked eyes, it's energy given pause by an interwoven curiosity within itself and bated the rest of the way by the selfless restraint of Therrye herself on the surface. Trust was beckoned forth, a question of self-discovery, a design of deeper meaning... affectionate reassurance washed over her, and while Aolieon's lips parted lightly to quietly beg for something else -- she found herself willing to let the sensations roll over her, equal parts steeled and vulnerable.
She loosened her grip on self-control just enough to let her reactions take flight in the face of such exploration -- consciously, this was such a fleeting and annoying thing, but part of Aolieon wanted her to know what it felt like to be her; wanted her to learn what it was like, so that at least in one way she wouldn't have to be alone. As Therrye's fingertips slid across the back of the lunar extremity, she felt the heat beneath her fingers emit breathtaking sensors like harmless yet heated slag up the delicately interwoven bundles of nerves underneath the appendages surface; the skin on the lunar horns gave off the feeling of oiled and youthful hairless skin and the hardness of polished acrylic. Aolieon's breathing drew heavier, causing her chest to rise and fall with each breath as her eyelids lowered and arousal widened the abyssal maws nestled within her honeyed eyes. Her cheeks flushed a few shades of a muted lilac; she paused her breathing to swallow, her mouth getting dry. Aolieon was maintaining her cool exceptionally well underneath this exploration, but the primal repressed spirit behind her eyes writhed and convulsed with vibrant need from within the webs of its silken bondage. As she traced down to the semi-sharp tips and touched the points lightly, a pulse slithered along the crescent like fiber optic and made her briefly shudder.
When she drew her nails lightly back up the finite curve, a pang shot through Aolieon's skull as her eyes widened; she huffed and then drew a sharp inhale in between her teeth. Her eyes dilated strongly, almost being consumed by the void as her vibrant propensities for masochism were antagonized into swinging for the fences -- her instincts metaphysically sprung at Therrye, as Aolieon placed her hands against Therrye's chest and lightly pushed, thumping her back against the wall of the shower; her head twitched from the pang, but didnt draw away from her hand. It wasn't very painful, not in the slightest; no, it was enough hypersensitivity and just barely the right amount of pain to unjustly bait her into unbuckling one of the many clasps holding her insatiable lust at bay. However, just as quickly as she had been lured to momentarily show her desires for real -- Aolieon had snatched her composure out of thin air, letting a salacious chuckle flutter from her throat to throw the curtain over the gesture. She pursed her lips, licking them slowly as she parted her lips to speak. "Feels good... although, you're one of few to treat them with care," Aolieon bit her lip, her eyes travelling down to her bare chest as she stomached an urge to finally feel her beneath her, but held it together. She looked up, furrowing her eyebrows in a teasing submissive look, "I promise you I'm much more durable than that let on... they are, too," she chuckled lightly, her eyelids lowering as her hands travelled low and brushed down the sides of her chest -- she hadn't had the chance to appreciate her body as it was and with respect, but she wholeheartedly had charged her mind with the agenda of doing so very shortly. Something needed to be said about doing her best to not color a location of utmost vulnerability with her hands in that sort of way, however and she choked back the urge to moan in sexual frustration at the concept -- this time the sound wasn't even permitted to audibly leave her as she bit down on her lip, hard.

Choosing not to linger, Therrye left the shower and took Aolieon's hand to lead her from it. Aolieon found herself unable to look away from such an aerodynamic form; she drank in all the tattoos and Aolieon was reminded of another kind of guilty pain she loved and had somehow hadn't taken the time to savor more than perhaps twice. Now in a more open space, she turned around and let Therrye wrap a towel around her, pressing into her extremities to dry her up briefly, but not altogether -- this led Therrye into a simple hug from behind, which she turned her head and warmly leered at her out the corner of her eyes when she did it. In the midst of this gesture, the tattoo of the raven flying from the cage only to be shot would finally reveal itself to Therrye.
Aolieon couldn't help but let a beaming smile flutter across her face. Her touch has such modular variations of tone between lust and love; I can't tell whether she's shaped herself into a doll's long-awaited braindance, or a lifelong lover returning from war -- such a remarkable sentient... The eddies of heat that Therrye's touch had been quietly depositing within her rushed to her head, causing an inner Demon to show it's teeth. Something's gotta give, and when the chips fall -- I'm gonna rock this razorgirl's world... Aolieon clamped down on another sultry taunting chuckle to prevent it's sound, as she mused upon the intrusive thought. Ohh, she had the confidence she could -- the question that was being brazenly ignored of course, was whether or not Aolieon possessed the resolve in her presence to hang on long enough for Therrye to not be the first to drown her in love... She slowly blinked, looking away as Therrye concluded her bit of subconscious sensational play with the towel which she thoroughly enjoyed; in another timeline, she might have never been able to look at towels the same way again... She smiled and twirled about in taking a step back, unfurling the towel and wrapping her long silver curtain in it behind her head, pulling her head to the side to torque the towel around her hair in a concerted effort to wring the water from her hair without altogether removing any cool dampness from it. Of course, while she was doing this and later moving to see-saw the towel across her back and then wrap it around her legs, she couldn't look away from Therrye -- she was doing this attentively to let herself be savored in such a way that Therrye had casually done for her.

Unlike someone else whose life had seen her quietly forge her body into something robust and slender out of necessity -- Everyone knew that in Night City, how you present yourself can tell everything about you; however, this dogma was just as much of a tool in Aolieon's arsenal as a blade or gun was, and it showed in her physique. She had retained the voluptuous curves afforded to her by her biology in spite of dietary neglect, and yet she had cultivated a lithe figure as an assassin by trade. Her hip dip was bottom hourglass, her thighs thick, her arms and abdominals conservatively streamlined for efficiency; yet nothing seemed to indicate the immense grip or strength required to gore a sword through a Centaur, and this was by design -- of course, this had all been readily showcased earlier in the night to Therrye in so many different contexts, including her piercings and many scars-- But this presentation was different. Brazen. Raw. With oceans of anticipation roiling beneath the surface...

Aolieon finished drying and shook her head from side to side in order to part the now mildly damp curtain back into free flowing, long-angled strands. As Therrye carelessly dropped the towel and closed in, Aolieon giggled with a bubbling mirth as she moved to pick her up. Not at all dissuading the gesture, Aolieon laid her hands upon her shoulders and leapt lightly, wrapping her legs around her waist to both encourage her and make the movement to the bedroom easy. The surges in her brain from the loving exploration of her hair, body and horns had motioned her brain into being wide awake, and neurons were firing in a cascade as several designs began to be debated upon her.
Despite original appearances, this quality femme had shown herself to be a challenge, even for someone such as Aolieon to handle -- she was gonna have to wear down that self-restraint, if she had any hopes of carrying out her own desires upon this pleasurable, long-awaited evening (morning). She devised a plan -- propose some massage; get that body as relaxed as you possibly can; perhaps grace her with another dance if you can, that seemed to have quite the effect... I don't know if I can handle holding myself back from a girl like this... You're going to have to try, girlie; this rimbo's got some fire in her, and you're not here for more of the same -- that might just be what you get, if you give in... Aolieon blinked, snapping back into focus with a hum of mirth at her question as she licked her lips. "Oh, lots of things," Aolieon remarked with a flighty and brazen tone, grinning with sinful intentions as her arms swept up Therrye's forearms and then promptly swung her to prone on the bed. Aolieon crawled over her, pulling her hair to drape to the side as she hovered inches from Therrye's face -- her silver curtain played an ensemble as it let the ambient light through her strands. Aolieon let one hand skate up her side and press up against Therrye's cheek. "... I want to really try and get some of that tension out of your body -- consider it my gratitude and repayment for all the bullets you took for me. May I?"
 
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With how sensitive the horns seemed to be, that this was a gift, at least in one way, wasn't lost on her. The thrash of self against chains of restraint was all too familiar, and though she could only grasp the responses of the Liandri by her reactions, that was seen. How her touches made her shudder and blush and how much they dilated her eyes multiplied the heat in Therrye's chest. Of course she enjoyed responses in her partners - who didn't? - yet the larger draw was seeing those worn by Aolieon. In so many ways was she shaped to be an ideal form for the want of others, and that was well represented in her range of lovers to date. Still, as much as a body is beautiful, the person inside it created the sparks of connection and chemistry in contact. That lethal mess of an intoxicated samurai, doubtlessly trailing a small sea of blood behind her, held all of this vulnerable warmth as well - even if it was so much icier than her own. Perhaps how precious she found such things was she was trusted with it at all.

The push into the shower wall surprised her, and she would have interpreted it as a clear boundary if Aolieon hadn't undercut that a moment later. A shadow passed through her warmth, briefly, as she mentioned the lack of gentleness given them in the past. It wasn't that it was unthinkable, or unexpected; her body and so few words had well told her the score. When she put it into words, though, how could she not think of it with a plume of hatred? That was not why she was here now, though, and she gave it no purchase to settle onto her.

Therrye leaned in a little while her hands touched her chest, the least tattooed part of her torso, almost entirely bare until the snake encircling below her belly button, and carefully swept fingers through her hair - not touching her horns this time. "How restrained you've been tells me a lot about your resilience." There, again, the dancer bit her lip. If Therrye hadn't already been aiming to leave the shower, she would have kissed her then, and may not have stopped.

The impressionistic tattoo on her right shoulder was visible from behind, along with the geometric, barbed chain link running down most of her left arm. Dominating the view would be the geometric hourglass, though, centered on her spine and spanning from the middle of her shoulder blades down to just above her hip bones. Despite its size and blocky design, there was an aspect of slenderness to it, which, intentional or not, mapped well to the fragility of life. Especially for an Edgerunner.

Though she already tended to make some pushes and leads into her space to feel out her comfort zone (while indulging her own desires), Therrye had taken more liberties with it since Aolieon stated she wouldn't mishandle or touch her wrong. She couldn't well explain it, and it wasn't yet a conscious thing, but something about having Aolieon in her arms felt very right. When she leapt into her the embrace so readily, there was no helping the brightness in the smile that followed. The giggle that accompanied it was like a headrush, but for the heart. Therrye, for all of her friendliness when she wasn't focused in on danger and violence, wasn't easy with her affection. Keeping others beyond arm's length kept her self safe as well as them, and just two others had drawn out so much and so readily such bright emotions from her, with one of them being an utterly different context. In so many ways, Aolieon had made it as unattractive as it was difficult to not keep opening up that brightness. That there were plenty of red flags surrounding these moments wasn't lost on her subconscious, but right, she cared about them so little they might as well have been forgotten.

Her eyes widened mildly at being swung down onto the bed from an ostensibly superior position, with mirth quickly following. Even with all of her sensuality and desire, Aolieon managed to still have at least a little playfulness in her. That always counted a lot, for her; she was serious enough in her work to not want to be so outside of it, when she could.

Having been leading for a good amount of the night (morning) so far, Therrye gave no resistance this time to the dancer's second plea to address relaxing her. Even if it wasn't her first, second or third choice right now, a flexible push and pull made for a much more open and enthusiastic dynamic, which she very much wanted with Aolieon. Anything less would have only left her with regrets and some self-directed displeasure, and though she was overwhelmingly a top, letting another direct didn't threaten her sense of self or security. Her cheek gave a mild rub into the woman's hand and she nodded. "Alright, Aolieon." She didn't have to say her name, but she wanted to feel it on her tongue, and it did not disappoint. "How do you want me?" The question clearly indicated whether this was for her being on her stomach or her back, though she chose her words intentionally for other reasons besides. Whichever she picked, Therrye shifted in the bed and spread her body enough to stay relaxed while offering plenty of access. That she got to enjoy the feel of her sheets - which, even if Therrye was a middling lover, were attractive enough to make her a booty call on their own - was a bonus. She usually didn't end up paying much attention to them when another was in her bed, after all.
 
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Aolieon couldn't help but let a flirtatious smile drift across her face as she hung over her head. She giggled with mirth; the fact that Therrye was willing to let her wear down at that strong exterior wasn't lost on her, and ignited a thrill within her that she hadn't had in a long time -- the thrill of taking someone with restraint and goodness in their heart, and reducing them to their rampant passions. Of course, there was someone else who made this the biggest and most rewarding challenge -- there'd be a chance to see how she'd hold up to the scrutiny. In Night City, such an opportunity came... hardly ever. People were so quick to give in to their base instincts and indulge in a thrill that would be worth its time. The fact that she was being made to work for something really threw all motivations and hungry wants to the forefront in a way you couldn't expect of a usual in this place. "Something else, first," she murmured as she hankered down closer to her face. "Girl like you, it won't take unless you're easing up mentally as well as physically," Aolieon breathed in a tone incandescent of a moan, as she went in for a kiss. Taking her time to slowly lay down some preliminary passion, she let a hand run fingers through her hair in an attempt to lull Therrye into a sense of security; each movement was slow and deliberate, with each smooch slowly drawn out and paying homage in an effort to reflect the amount of caring energy that Therrye had been giving her. Pulling away from the kiss, she had half a mind to chomp down on her bottom lip and pull it between her teeth, but she resisted, instead letting her tongue delightfully grace the bottom lip instead. She smoothed her hand down her chest and down her midriff, dropping into that altruistic mindset she needed for what came next. "On your stomach," she finally replied, letting up enough to let her roll over before straddling her round her thighs just beneath her butt.

With Therrye now in such a precarious position, Aolieon couldn't help but look up and down her body, licking her lips as her old habits seethed with desire for the ability to just jump her bones and let her have it. She flicked her head back, fluffing her hair with a free hand while she committed herself to the care and began to deliberately run her hands up and down her back. She was feeling for the muscle groups; trying to identify where dermal plates were, identifying where cyberware was, and if at all possible -- noting where the flesh was real, if anywhere at all. She rubbed harder, diagonally, vertically, side to side; not enough to cause pain but identify where there was tension as well as which ways muscle flowed and to note skin discoloration whenever pressure was applied to note potential circulatory rerouting. Flicking her head again, Aolieon mentally buckled down, having acquired the information she needed and dedicating herself to actually trying to work this out. Using the position and floating of dermal plates against themselves, she would first target the knots and high tension in certain places, kneading her knuckles in some places and angling her elbow with body weight to really roll into those tough spots -- afterwards, she'd smooth her hands from her lower back and up the sides of her spine, moving to release the tension by pushing the tension 'out through the collarbone', for lack of a better word. She spent a great amount of time on her back doing this, identifying the bad plates in her left shoulder plate and doing her best to not only promote blood circulation in that area but also relax and loosen the muscles above it while caring care to not apply too much pressure so as to avoid grinding the dermal plate into her skeletal system, or press too hard to dislocate or disconnect any cyberware. Aolieon possessed enough strength to do this, but she was doing her best to be mindful of it. Instinctively, she bit her lip and let her fingertips join together and try to search for that sensation from before -- that pulsating, mildly vibrating sensation from before that she detected in her forearm. She could feel the heat and neural binary coming off of her spine, and beneath her it felt like interacting with a column of plated heat, much like one would expect a lava lamp to feel like had they never actually touched one and burnt themselves. Her skin felt so supple, so clean; so rugged and rustic where the scars lay. Intermittently, she was going from rolling the flesh underneath her hands to lightly brushing her fingers in places -- part of her wanted to know this body like the back of her hand; in addition to treating the cyberware with care and therapeutically releasing tension, she wanted to know where to touch -- where to graze, pinch and scratch to incite responses to stimuli that made her tick; still wanting to weather down that chivalrous resolve... and yet, something pulled at her mind, wanting to soothe a sleeping beast that other parts of her brain wanted to rise up and tear her limb from limb, but this was different... she wanted to please, to adore, to satisfy. Aolieon knew not what was inspiring her to be so caring with another, but it was serving it's purpose, as this spontaneous care was adding a shock-absorbing layer to her own self-restraint. She was in control again, and yet there was a scraping desire to prove herself worthy of something beneath the surface she couldn't identify just yet...


After spending an excess amount of time on her back, Aolieon smoothed her hands down the arms -- once again, after exploring where the cyberware was and noting if there was any 'ganic flesh; after appreciating tattoos and other features, she began to deliberately massage the tension out of the upper arms and moving down to the forearms. She kneaded out tension in the arms and ironed out the circulation of fluid within, going down to the hands and rolling her fingers into it with enough effort to cause the fingers to minorly spasm under intermittent blood swelling. She performed this process on one arm, and then the other. Then she moved up to the neck, her arms lightly kneading the skin and slowly moving up into the back of her scalp to loosen up the tension. She pressed her fingers to the side of the nape of her neck, planting a couple of cool, soothing kisses to the back of her neck behind her left ear. "How you feeling?" she asked, breathing the words across her cheek with an aching lure. She didn't know why, but... she was beginning to treat this woman like she was someone special -- someone else, and yet equally worthy of her attention in this moment.
 
A warm and playful grin answered her. "I'm trusting you, aren't I?" The implications were deeper than the casual reply indicated. What kisses followed from Aolieon weren't exactly the relaxing kind, the tempo pushing her toward a more active participation and bringing a subtle arching of her back and ripple of those muscles. When she pulled away, she could see in the greater height in the swells of her chest with each breath; Therrye repeatedly faced surprise in the wake of intent made into action from the Liandri, and she'd felt internal resistance to any sort of tempering of her responses. It was mostly the balance of varied impulses and insistent emotions, along with the push and pull of their energies, that kept her from descending into something more feral. Her tongue slid over where Aolieon's had been, though, and a bit of a grin appeared before she turned her body.

Spreading out her arms, Therrye focused on cycling her breath - deep in, slow out - to help induce relaxation across her body. Despite the many reasons for some tension, a quarter or so of them weren't related to her, and she wanted to banish that to seep into the enjoyment of all this night could be. Though massages were often a pleasant thing, especially in her left shoulder, it'd been some time since she'd been under such care from another. They weren't an experience she prioritized for herself, really, even if that was in all likelihood a misstep given the floaty experience they could produce. The bruiser's taste for creature comforts had some blind spots in it, and this was one of them.

While the dermal plating often partially separated layers of muscle, much of her body remained organic, even if some of it was wrapped in supporting and protective synthetics. Outside of her inner arm port, eye implant and below the ear shard slot, there were only eight spots on her body that were Realskinn™️ instead of flesh, all of which lay in her forearms to accommodate the anchor bolts of her breakers. Nerves were somewhat free to interface with the surface, and most of her soft tissues weren't bound or replaced, either, rendering her more like a creature with a second layer of skeletal armor than one wired up or thoroughly replaced. For how much internal weight her augments added, she was pretty close to not being augmented at all in many ways. Besides her cyberware, whip scars on her back were clustered along the length of her rib cage - even slavers could know not to strike unprotected organs and cause damage to their 'goods' - and the dark ink of her tattoos ran over them in turn. Regardless, most of the tension in Therrye's muscles lay in her shoulders, with uncomfortable knots and even some pinching in the left shoulder, but as someone who spent so much time and force using the muscles throughout her body, there was plenty work on.

When Aolieon increased the pressure of her hands, more of a relieved note came to her breaths. It was more tangled up with some hissed intakes of breath with her left shoulder, specifically, but most of the rest of her didn't elicit such a response. Occasional sounds born of bodily pleasure left her lips, the pleasantness having no difficulty in drawing out soft, relaxed moans. Typically, Therrye didn't struggle much at letting thoughts go when her rage wasn't involved. The way massage could smooth thought of the mind as it smoothed tension out of the body was a specific sort of experience, though, and she relaxed into it fully and more quickly than she expected.

As the Liandri continued to work at her muscles, the only disruption Therrye felt in the soothing experience as a few, dull, spark-like sensations across her spine. They weren't even frequent enough to be called intermittent, and had no discernible pattern to her. Were they a little milder, she wouldn't have even noticed them. She had the urge to twist and contort a bit to stretch the muscles running up her spine and see if that helped, but Aolieon was doing her thing - remarkably well, all told - and she didn't want to interrupt. That the ghost in her nerves knew that it could be so much more didn't impact her awareness, for better or worse.

Therrye's arms were a little more tender and sensitive under the woman's hands, leading to an occasional twitch in some of her fingers. The sounds she was making did not give any indication that she wanted her to stop, though; for a little while, she thought she might fall asleep, if not for the mild activation of her nerves. When she finally brought her hands to Therrye's scalp, she tensed a bit along the spine and then held her breath for a few heartbeats as Aolieon kissed her neck. She let out quite the sigh and experienced a mild shiver across her back. Smiling a little dreamily, she opened her eyes to look at her, though it wasn't of any use given her field of view. "Wonderful," she replied, with a relaxation-drenched voice. It seemed a little silly in the moment that she didn't go in for this more. Perhaps that had more to do with who was doing the touching. The irony that the same hands which turned so many Corpo guards into meat a few hours earlier were doing this didn't ping much in the moment, but it would later.
 
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Aolieon left a mischievous triumphant giggle mildly flutter from her throat the moment Therrye began moaning. Yeeeeesss... Something needed to be said about hearing appreciation flutter so freely from a voice under the duress of something not entirely sexual all on its own. The fact that it was coming from Therrye of all people made it all the more sweeter to savor. Aolieon had the luxury a handful of times in treating a doll to this kind of thing; once even, the girl didn't even activate her doll-chip and gave her the time for free -- it was a fleeting thing, though. Aolieon had a mood swing and she just wanted to flex her skills, because it had been so long since she had a chance to use it. This one, though... Something felt so right about this, and something else entirely felt so wrong.
She was surprised to feel how 'ganic she felt underneath her hands in certain places -- the sensation underneath her touch pulsated with something longing and full of revelry. Not that Aolieon would know what this felt like, but if one had to describe; it felt as if someone might be lovingly scratching at the haunches of a lioness. She felt the muscles ripple in hesitation, as if desiring to rear up and be incited to play in that rough, heavy-handed manner. The sensation teased her, brushed past her like warm licking flames and while it couldn't be observed; it filled Aolieon to brimming with delight as she blushed and she felt a flutter in her chest.

Seeing her open her eyes and respond so freely and seeing her already melting into relaxation sharpened a sliver of glee in Aolieon's face. With her face to the side on the plush bed, Aolieon leaned down to plant another kiss in the space where her jawline met her neck. "Good," she acknowledged, pressing down on the center of her back and climbing back to get a better vantage point to work on the lower body.
Moving to apply some considerable attention to the lower back, she made sure to pressure her hands so that light awkward adjustments in how she was laying would allow tense portions of the lower back to buckle and pop. When she was ready, Aolieon bit her lip and everything seemed to go in slow motion as she moved down to her thighs, sweeping her hands lovingly over her ass, but she found the resolve to keep going. Smoothing her hands through where the hamstrings and hip flexors lie, she shamelessly kneaded and smoothed her hands through the muscles in the back of her legs, going deep to really pull any undue tension out of them. She thought about it for a moment, but instead decided to work upon the Inner thigh as if she were a professional, eyes shooting back up to Therrye's head to see what might be going on. The calves got the same treatment as the thighs, one after the other with both hands, and then she moved to the feet. Rolling her thumb deliberately through the pads of her feet and taking the time to stretch them therapeutically; she didn't spend too much time here, focusing on the outcome and making sure no tension was allowed to rest in the ankles or feet -- she grasped the toes and popped them one by one. Finally, she grasped her calves, lifting the leg enough to point it skywards. She rolled the ankle around within the range of its natural movement, and then pressed it in wards to bend sharper at the knee -- reintroducing a modicum of wakefulness and letting the leg slowly fall down to join the other. One leg went through this entire process -- thigh, calf, ankle, foot -- and then the other, taking it from the top.

Aolieon crawled up slowly, sliding her hand lovingly up her back before pulling on her right shoulder to silently encourage her to flip over. When she did, Aolieon couldn't help but take a moment to appreciate her face and how brazenly open it looked. She caressed her cheek and graced her with another soft kiss before she rose to kneeling and started massaging her collarbone and upper chest; again smoothing out that tension and working the rippling muscles through with conscious mindfulness of cyberware and 'ganic flesh. Aolieon's eyes were that warm set of dilation again; her cheeks now passively lightly flushed with a few light violet hues -- something was pulling her in, and Therrye's face and gaze upon her weren't helping. She moved to the arms again, now giving the biceps the same treatment as the back of the arms got. She came back to the same arm they greeted each other with; the same arm she lent her in the getaway van... She massaged the hand, popping the fingers and treating it with care -- giving in to an intrusive thought, she locked eyes with her and placed it on her own collarbone, smoothing it down one of her breasts and down to her abdominals. This brief indulgence in Therrye's touch, awkward as it was, was fluttered away with giggling mirth as she went to give the other arm the same treatment. Aolieons eyelids lowered, as she treated the appendages with fixating care and let the craft of her art consume her and quietly fill her mind to glutting with endorphins. Still, something in the back of her mind itched, and she began to wonder if Therrye was truly a stone-wall of a gentlewoman, or was actually being taken too far into relaxation and she was about to fall asleep.

Would have been okay if she was... there was plenty she could do to excite her back to wakefulness...
 
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