darkest_fate
machina erotica
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2009
- Location
- the INTERNET
Elves had become a thing in America.
Technically they'd been a thing for a few generations, give or take. Magic had decided to roar back to life in the late teens, and it had not come subtle. Generations of humans suddenly found their genetics shifted. What used to be a long line of normal lived humans now became elves, or orcs, or dwarves, or what have you. The same had happened to the Greene family at the Change. they'd become elves, full blooded, long lived, and highly magical elves at that. The sort with achingly sharp beauty, long lives, and a near racist attitude toward the world (this turned out to even still slightly be the case for a group of people that had once been human). The older generation still bore some signs of humanity: softly rounded features, greyed hair, the occasional wrinkle, despite having lasted some centuries now (two hundred years after the Change, and the original elves were still alive).
Aisling was third generation elf. The striking redhead was among that first generation to take the full elfish features: sharp build to face and jaw, thin body, ethereal beauty. Had Aisling not been an elf, she still likely would have been a model of some kind. But the third generation elf, second generation Irish-American, had been born an elf, and been born highly intelligent. Barely into her twenties, she'd already graduated from the mage academy at the top of her class. She had no less than three theses for degrees, one of which had already been published outlining the usage of magic across three different types of species. another had been tabled as "no one knew enough about dragons to determine if their magic was usable."
Aisling was also considered a cold, calculating bitch. She'd had exactly two boyfriends despite being drop-dead gorgeous. The first had petered out as she graduated high school early. The second was literally on record as saying "ice flew from between Aisling's legs." She froze him literally after that.
So, according to what she'd read, she'd make a perfect candidate for an old tradition. If she was reading dragon texts correctly (she was) then she should be able to invoke Maidenhood and force a dragon to take her in as his Maiden. There would be certain allowances: sex seemed to be most frequently mentioned (as a dire consequence, which Aisling could not figure out. Weren't dragons supposed to be gorgeous, well endowed creatures? Where was the terror in that?) But it would allow her the proximity necessary to finish her research, as well as grant her unfettered access to a dragon.
Hence a clandestine meeting. In a coffee shop. Owned by a fairy.
Now, elves and humans and all sorts frequented Puck's. Legend had it that the shop, set as it was in the middle of Newest York, was actually owned by the Puck, who'd decided America looked like fun . Aisling didn't know. Didn't care. It was neutral ground. And she'd finally found a dragon through, of all things, Google, and had sent him a few messages arranging what she outlined as a "business meeting on neutral ground", sending along vagueries.
The pretty elf nursed a coffee, sharp green eyes watching the door for the incoming dragon. An elf as good looking as Aisling would've stood out: elves did in general, even at Puck's. The pointed ears, the fine features, it gave them away. So often they glamored themselves, which was almost a showy display of magic.
Aisling? wore a hat. She tugged it slightly lower while she kept her gaze. He'd show, he'd come to her table, where she already had the contract drawn up, and they'd get this thing over quick and easy.
Technically they'd been a thing for a few generations, give or take. Magic had decided to roar back to life in the late teens, and it had not come subtle. Generations of humans suddenly found their genetics shifted. What used to be a long line of normal lived humans now became elves, or orcs, or dwarves, or what have you. The same had happened to the Greene family at the Change. they'd become elves, full blooded, long lived, and highly magical elves at that. The sort with achingly sharp beauty, long lives, and a near racist attitude toward the world (this turned out to even still slightly be the case for a group of people that had once been human). The older generation still bore some signs of humanity: softly rounded features, greyed hair, the occasional wrinkle, despite having lasted some centuries now (two hundred years after the Change, and the original elves were still alive).
Aisling was third generation elf. The striking redhead was among that first generation to take the full elfish features: sharp build to face and jaw, thin body, ethereal beauty. Had Aisling not been an elf, she still likely would have been a model of some kind. But the third generation elf, second generation Irish-American, had been born an elf, and been born highly intelligent. Barely into her twenties, she'd already graduated from the mage academy at the top of her class. She had no less than three theses for degrees, one of which had already been published outlining the usage of magic across three different types of species. another had been tabled as "no one knew enough about dragons to determine if their magic was usable."
Aisling was also considered a cold, calculating bitch. She'd had exactly two boyfriends despite being drop-dead gorgeous. The first had petered out as she graduated high school early. The second was literally on record as saying "ice flew from between Aisling's legs." She froze him literally after that.
So, according to what she'd read, she'd make a perfect candidate for an old tradition. If she was reading dragon texts correctly (she was) then she should be able to invoke Maidenhood and force a dragon to take her in as his Maiden. There would be certain allowances: sex seemed to be most frequently mentioned (as a dire consequence, which Aisling could not figure out. Weren't dragons supposed to be gorgeous, well endowed creatures? Where was the terror in that?) But it would allow her the proximity necessary to finish her research, as well as grant her unfettered access to a dragon.
Hence a clandestine meeting. In a coffee shop. Owned by a fairy.
Now, elves and humans and all sorts frequented Puck's. Legend had it that the shop, set as it was in the middle of Newest York, was actually owned by the Puck, who'd decided America looked like fun . Aisling didn't know. Didn't care. It was neutral ground. And she'd finally found a dragon through, of all things, Google, and had sent him a few messages arranging what she outlined as a "business meeting on neutral ground", sending along vagueries.
The pretty elf nursed a coffee, sharp green eyes watching the door for the incoming dragon. An elf as good looking as Aisling would've stood out: elves did in general, even at Puck's. The pointed ears, the fine features, it gave them away. So often they glamored themselves, which was almost a showy display of magic.
Aisling? wore a hat. She tugged it slightly lower while she kept her gaze. He'd show, he'd come to her table, where she already had the contract drawn up, and they'd get this thing over quick and easy.