In Pursuit of the Heretical [exalted]

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Name: Sister Rosette
Gender: Female
Age: 26
Profession(Pre acolyte): Sister of Battle
Appearance: 5'8" (out of armour)


Background:
Rosette came from a small convent, secluded from the Imperium and wickedness of the unfaithful, She was taught to be loyal, taught to be faithful, chaste and pure, to avoid temptation... her teachers had a hard time. Rosette was always inquisitive about things and often naive about her discoveries, not understanding the context.

Before she could join a Holy Order, her convent was ordered to lend aid to one Inquisitor Kraegus' acolytes. The acolyte was attempting to retrieve an item of great importance for the Inquisitor when he was attacked by Rebels. The untried and untested Sister's were rushed in to rescue. Only one returned from the operation, Rosette, carrying a young child with her, the bastard child of the planet's arch bishop. Without question she turned the child over to Wyrax, putting the bishop under her thumb, never knowing who the child was or the consequences of her actions.

The Inquisition is a curious thing. It operates in the darkest shadows of the Imperium, unbeknownst to the vast majority of humanity's teeming quadrillions, yet absolutely vital in ensuring Mankind's survival against the Xeno, the Witch and the Mutant. It is because of their absolute vitality to the Imperium's survival, that the Holy Ordos be given free reign to operate as they see fit. Agents of the Inquisition can go anywhere, do anything, and sequester whoever is necessary to achieve whatever goal is required of them by their masters. Which, consequently, is how you ended up on Varag Prime. A few years ago, before you were even considered fit to wield a bolter in the name of the God Emperor, your convent was called upon to assist the machinations of an Inquisitor in spiriting away a child of some importance from the grasp of heretical rebels. Though the victory was Pyrrhic, costing the lives of the acolyte who called upon your convent's assistance, as well as all of your fellows, you succeeded in saving the boy. Clearly, your success was not forgotten.

Varag Prime is little more than a windswept rock of a world, conveniently located between more major hubs of trade and industrial production, making it ideal as a rest stop for such vessels. An artery in the crisscrossing network of space lanes that sprawl the Calixis Sector, and the ideal place for the Inquisition to collect their latest acquisition. It felt like an awkward eternity, dressed in your full gear in a civilian docking bay high above the world below, your only companions being the occasional maintenance worker hastily scampering by and the servitors who unflinchingly man the consoles to the airlock. Maddening silence only worsens whatever nervousness may swim in your gut, and you doubt anybody would blame you for trying to pin down one of the menials who operate this station to find out where in the hell your ride is! Ever the secretive society, the missives and messages which took you from port to port away from your home convent said nothing of where you were headed, or who to look out for, only where to wait next.

A whirring within the servitor closest the lock alerts you, and the mindless servant rattles through a series of carefully rehearsed commands on the console before it. A deep rumble preludes the hiss of the doors opening, and from within the stop-gap of vessel and docking bay, two individuals stride forward. The first of them is a pale man, taller than most men you've been able to meet since leaving the female-only monastery that housed your sisters. He must be a foot taller than you, though such an estimate could be exaggerated by how lanky and gaunt he looks. He looks like he practically swims within the robes that clad his body, soft grey in color and kept closed around his narrow waist by a leather belt which holsters a las-pistol and data slate. His head is devoid of hair with the exception of thin, brown eyebrows and a long goatee which trails down from the tip of his chin to the middle of his chest. His eyes are cold, paler grey than his robes, and zero in on you almost immediately.

The second is a female, also taller than you, but not by so much. Maybe only four or five inches. A messy mop of blonde hair covers her head and frames a rugged face, though she seems to be in much better spirits than her companion, a mirth in her green-grey eyes and a confidence smile on her black-stained lips. She is clad in a well-worn suit of carapace armor not too dissimilar from the Sisters Hospitaller of your order, though the markings on it out her as a member of the Adeptus Arbites; you remember the coloration of their gear from your time at the Schola. A heavy shotgun is slung over her shoulder, and you immediately notice a shock-baton and autopistol hanging from her waist. She seems to catch your quick scan and winks suggestively in response, an odd woman for sure.

"A pleasure, Sister Rosette. I am Valerius Blessett, and I have the privilege of welcoming you to our benevolent master's fold. I have been told you are no stranger to the promptness in which our organization operates, so I expect you are ready to depart at once for the next leg of our journey. Any questions you may have, I will be happy to answer along the way. If you will, please follow me." Although he speaks with the flowery politeness of a proper scribe, you can tell the skeleton of a man is in no great mood, and gestures for you to follow him as he spins on his heel and makes way back towards the airlock. The woman accompanying him seems to suppress a chuckle, her demeanor at the very least, brighter.

"Don't get offended, toots, he's like this with all of us." The blonde pipes. She waits a few moments for you to come along before heading back herself.

[exalted]

Rosette nervously tapped the toe of her boot under the hem of her habbit as she waited, eyes glancing about at the organised chaos around her. Her lips were set in a half scour as another group of Navy men trotted past, several taking sideways glances at her as they passed, but kept there distance from her. She was sure if it wasn't for the Ordo Militant Chaplet hanging around her neck that she would have been inundated by crude comments and gestures, the Navy had always seemed a little bit blasphemous to her... not as bad as the thrice cursed Admech... but still, they were always a little bit uppity and haughty for her with their own Navy Cants.

She was sure one of them had deliberately shut off the gravity in the airlock when she was disembarking her shuttle, causing her habit to fly up over her waist.

Smoothing her good travelling habit down again, just in case, she pondered the rapid shift in travel arrangements, she had meant to return to the convent but had been sequestered here instead without reason being given. Her stomach grumbled and she eyed off the concession stand deeper into the large hanger, selling all kinds of foreign... well local, but foreign to her.... foods and goods. She felt around in the pocket of her habit for the small purse of credits she had been given for travel expenses and thought about buying something, but decided against it, not knowing how much further she might have to go. At each stop so far she had merely been told to get on another ship for another location, some of which had not provided the Daughter of the Emperor with a meal... not that she was mad or anything... plenty of Emperor's chosen had gone without sustenance while being tested but....

She pulled out the small bag of hard sweets she kept in her other pocket, gnawing on her lip as she realised the bag was now over half empty and she knew even less about the next time she might have a chance to replenish it. Hearing the locks grinding behind her she quickly popped one in the corner of the mouth and stashed the bag safely away, preparing for whatever was on the other side.

She eyed up the lanky man as he approached, about to say something when started his rapid introduction and rant, not giving her a chance to reply. She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose and start sniffing the man, something about his appearance reminding her of the Navis Nobilite, witches - sanctioned witches, but witches still - and wondered if any of the psyker taint may have been on the man. She sighed internally at the sight of the Arbite, happy that at least another Adepta that supported the law and faith of the Imperium was there... until she opened her mouth.

"'Toots'? What is 'Toots'?" she repeated, taken about by how quickly the meeting had started and then ended with the others walking off, unsure of what the word meant and deciding it must have been some local dialect.

"I am not 'Toots', I am Rosette" She said as cleanly as she could in low gothic.

Pushing the button on the large case that that rested beside her, she followed the two strangers. The logitec engine in the case sprang to life and the powered wheels whirred into motion as the case started to follow behind her, carrying the most precious thing that Rosette owned, her Armour and Weapons, that symbol that she was an agent of the Emperor's wrath.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

The journey through the airlock is not so long, and perhaps that is for the better. The sooner you were aboard whatever vessel this was, the sooner you could derive some form of answers from these two new individuals. At the very least, you're educated to the meaning of this 'toots' word along the way, the nonchalant Arbite insisting it is merely a term of endearment directed towards females. How indignant. The loose manner of speaking that the armor-clad law woman uses aside, you manage a glimpse of the vessel you will be carried in next; it is larger by the many civilian craft you have rode in along the way, although it seems to bare little if any in the way of defensive weaponry despite its size. It is also black, almost entirely so, giving the transport a rather ominous inflection. If you had to guess, it seemed to be a repurposed military freighter of some kind. At least it would provide for spacious accommodations!

Once the air lock is behind you and you've trailed your escorts up the ramp and past the thick walls of the vessel, the servitors manning the port do as they are bid, and the doors creak shut behind you, their many layers groaning as they seal themselves against the unforgiving space just outside. Being aboard proper seems not to stop your 'companions', however, and they lead you through well-kept steel halls, many lined with doors leading to rooms unknown, until you finally come to a stop outside a particular one. Valerius stops and fiddles with the console just next to the door, and it slides open with a metallic groan, prompting him to enter along with the Arbite, and yourself, as there is little else to do in this strange place.

Within is a sparsely decorated room with a long, metallic table and some uncomfortable looking chairs positioned around it. The middle of the table seems to house some kind of projecting lens, a sign this is clearly a place where meetings are to be held. Valerius wastes little time seating himself at the head table, clearing his throat, while the blonde woman leans against the exterior wall.

"Thank you for your patience. Some years ago, you and eleven other novices at the Sanctuary on Grines II were conscripted by a man named Luthor Gorgo. In dire need of assistance, he called upon the fledgling sisters of your Order to assist him in securing the illegitimate son of the sector's arch-bishop, held captive by heretical rebels who saw fit to use him for purposes best left unsaid. Luthor perished, as did most of those who came with him to rescue the child. But you did not. Even before traveling to the Convent Prioris on Holy Terra to swear your holy vows to the God-Emperor of Mankind, you successfully thwarted the machinations of those who would corrode His Imperium from within. It was an impressive thing indeed, Sister Rosette." Long winded as he is, at least the strange, milky-fleshed man is willing to praise you for your bravery.

"Luthor Gorgo was an associate of mine. Indeed, we served the same master, a man of the Inquisition, Inquisitor Kraegus. It was by his Holy authority that Luthor was able to sequester your lot from the convent, and it is by his authority that you are here with us today. In response to a... less than fortunate event, in recent times, the Inquisitor has found his retinue of loyal servants lacking in number. To replenish these losses, he has bid me to gather for him a number of exceptional individuals who have been of use to our means in the past, and induct them into his service." He pauses, as if to allow the gravity of his statements to sink in, before continuing.

"From this day forward, your service to the God-Emperor of Mankind shall no longer be performed in the name of the Adepta Sororitas, but in the name of the Ordo Hereticus. This vessel shall depart upon refueling, and we shall make way for the capital of this sector, Scintilla, where you and the others aboard this vessel shall be given the training required to do your duties. While we are en route, a series of mock-trials and exercises shall be held in the converted cargo bay of the ship, to better indicate your strengths and weaknesses, so that your regimen may be better tailored when we arrive at the capital. Do you have any questions?" At last, a chance to speak! At least, once the ever insolent Arbite has finished her mock applause in your honor.

[exalted]

Rosette grumply chewed on and rolled around the hard candy in her mouth as she trudged after the others once the Arbite had explained that the most inappropriate term meant, the metal hallways all blurring together until they finally stopped.

She stood, standing straight as Valerius took a seat as she had not been given permission to sit, though she bristled slightly that the Arbite showed such poor form by leaning. She listened intently as Valerius started his long rant again, eyes shocked open as his revealed what her true purpose had been all that time ago. Illegitimate? Son? No, that couldn't be, that didn't make sense, how could an Archbishop have a...

Her thoughts trailed off as Valerius kept talking and she tried to focus.

"Oh, more training?" she mumbled under her breath as her shoulders slumped at the news, she thought she'd just finished with all that.

Her cheeks suddenly turned bright red as her stomach gurgled loudly again, sure the other two must have heard it as well.

"Ummm... ahhhh... is there a place I could get something to eat... you see I didn't get a chance before and..." she kept her eyes on the floor, embarrassed about how ridiculous her question was in light of the gravity of the situation.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

"I have little doubt the Adepta keep their militant arm sharp, Sister Rosette, but the Inquisition requires its acolytes to be razor-like. I assure you, more veteran acolytes are not so frequently drilled." Valerius croaks in response to your mumble, a man of sharp senses if not of particularly robust physicality. His sharp ears are certainly privy to your gut's empty nature. He scoffs slightly, waving his hand towards the Arbite.

"Arbiter Eneida, if you will, please show the Sister to the mess hall so that she may quell her hunger." He pipes, reaching into his belt and removing his data-slate. The way his long, ghostly fingers peck at the screen would seem to indicate he is done with you, his focus now firmly upon the device and whatever business he next must address.

Eneida seems happy enough to be rid of him, with informal woman clicking open the door and leading you out into the halls. If she's good for absolutely nothing other than getting on your nerves, she seems to know the layout of the vessel well enough to direct you through the winding corridors to a place where you can finally indulge in the delight of sustenance.

"I'm gonna level with you, toots, the group of guys we're with... lets say, aren't exactly the sort us high-society Progena folk are used to." You have a hard time believing she has ever interacted with the high society, considering her mannerisms. It's hard enough to believe she was part of the Ministorum's prestigious orphanage system. Clearly the Arbiters had more... lax standards than your own sisterhood.

"I know you Sororita lot tend to be a little tight assed, but have an open mind when I introduce you to the others after chow, alright? Last thing I want is to have to pull the damn hiver off of you cause you called him out on being... well, y'know, a piece of living scum and all." Her disheartening statements on the others you will be sharing responsibilities with are softened somewhat by the smell of food stuffs wafting from a large doorway positioned at the intersection of the ship's corridors. Through the door is a medium sized hall, populated with a few voidmen scattered through the handful of tables, and a long serving station, where one can fill a tray with corpse-starch, some form of Grox stew, and a few rolls of bread one could likely utilize as a weapon in a pinch. The very pinnacle of space-born dining. Eneida seems content to let you lead the charge, considering your not insignificant hunger.

[exalted]

Rosette gulped and straightened noticeably as Valerius heard her initial complaint, wondering again if maybe he had the taint and was reading her mind...

She followed the Arbiter glumly, sure that she had already made a bad first impression and wondering why this always seemed to happen to her.

"It's Rosette," she corrected Eneida again as they walked and the Arbiter called her 'Toots' again, "Rose-et"

The smell of the messhall, as spartan and harsh as it was, brought a smile to her face and warmth to her grumbling stomach.

"I assure you I will not need any such assistance, the Ordo Militant prepares it's Sisters for all types of combat," she huffed, strutting to the meal line, "And if you are so concerned then maybe you should Valerius resquest a Sister of the Ordo Famulous to straighten them up... you could use of lessons on the proper lexicon yourself... and if your men have problems with hives then they should see the medicae or stop keeping insects!"

She held her head high, not realising she had missed the point.

Grabbing a tray she grabbed a roll of a bread and tore it half, ladling the grox stew atop it to soak in and soften the bread. As bad as the mystery meat in a grox stew could be at times it would always beat the dour porridge that convent had forced upon her. Finding a seat at a table she set the tray down and recited a prayer to the Emperor, thanking him for his bounty as she slipped her hand into another concealed pocket in her habit and pulled out a small bag of spice to add taste to the stew.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Eneida looks on with a mixture of confusion and amusement, but trots after you and helps herself to a serving of the stew and a small pile of corpse-starch to go with it. She follows you along to your seat, and at least shows she remembers some of what the Drill Abbots hammered (sometimes quite literally) into your heads, by joining you in your pre-meal prayer. She is not so inclined to produce any form of spice, however, instead content to mix the two piles of food on her tray into a thicker concoction before spooning some into her mouth.

"You've never been outside a convent before, have you, Roseoots?" She asks, perhaps vexed by your insistence that she learn to speak Low Gothic like a proper, Emperor-fearing citizen. Why did it even matter in the first place?! There was a place for every member of Mankind, and yours just so happened to be in a temple with other, like minded women!

[exalted]

Rosette's nostrils flared in anger as Eneida deliberately mispronounced her name again.

Sprinkling a bit of spice over the stew she tucked the little pouch back away and carefully picked up the trencher of bread to daintily nibble on. As a measure of petty revenge much below her, she swapped to high gothic to reply that she had indeed been out of the convent before... twice at least before this...

Her eyes flicked about the mess as she spoke, eyeing up the few other stray people dining at the same time as her and the Arbiter

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Eneida rolls her eyes at your display of defiance. Uninitiated in the higher mysteries of linguistics, she is is likewise not inclined to ask the question twice to see your reply. Instead, she spoons more of her humble meal into her mouth. "You're lucky you're cute, y'know. Otherwise I might not be so keen to take that kinda sass from my junior." She quips with a little grin between mouthfuls.

You brief scan of the room doesn't provide much in the way of interest. Your disdain for men of the navy leaves you unimpressed by the smattering of crewmen, many of whom are dressed in uniformly black flight suits that you can only imagine make up the standard issue for those who find themselves manning Inquisition-aligned vessels. You do manage to spot something even more retched; across the hall is seated the lurched figure of a techpriest! The nearly heretical sect of gear worshipers must be inescapable once outside the comforting walls of the convent; it's impossible to make out much beneath the long, hooded red robes that is their trademark garb, although you can clearly see several long, tentacle like limbs sprouting from its back and extending out through holes in its clothing. A few of them seem to be fiddling with the priest's arm, a metallic thing that rests on the table, while its other hand is busy spooning the nutritious filler from the serving table beneath the shadows of its hood... at least some part of it is still human!

[exalted]

Rosette smiled to herself at her small little victory over the Arbite, saying a few more choice phrases in high gothic as she went about munching contentedly on her bread and stew as she took in the room.

The sight of the techpriest soured her appetite, of course there had to be one of the nigh-heretical things on board the ship. She shuddered briefly as she saw it eating the same stew as her and she put down her meal, pushing it away from herself as she lost her appetite completely.

"And just what would you do if I wasn't just so cute?" she fluttered her eyes sarcastically at Eneida, remembering the way her former Novice Sister Miranda had teased her, "I don't suppose you know where my quarters would be, Lady Arbite? I would be amiss if I did not freshen up before meeting the others after travelling so"

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

"I'd have to let the Hiver have at you, of course. Doesn't make much of a difference whether you're cute or not to their lot." Eneida remarked with a chuckle. She make quick work of what remains of her tray, and gives you a nod when you ask whether she knows where you'll be staying. She does you the kindness of collecting both your trays, and deposits them both in the requisite handling area before once again the two of you are off down the halls of the ship, precious cargo wheeling after you as you wind your way down at least three more long corridors. The inter working of these vessels is exhausting! But, mercifully, your journey takes you in a fairly linear path to a section of the ship which appears to house various bunks. Your bunk, conveniently enough, is the first on the right hand side of the corridor, with Eneida entering a simple enough unlock code that sees the door open up for you. She's kind enough to enter it slowly so you can memorize it.

Within the bunk is a small commons area, with a table in the center and a few manufactured, but reasonably comfortable sofa-like pieces of furniture surrounding it. The commons area has six individual doors which lead off into the rooms proper, with a seventh door directly parallel the entrance which contains a bathroom complete with chem-toilet and shower.

"The three on the right are taken up by the boys. I'm the first on the left, leaving the others for you to pick from. It's got a closet, a cot, a small desk and a chair. Sparse, but better than the lower lads get. I'm told these chambers are typically for the armsmen and other slightly-more-important guys in a proper military outfit." Eneida informs you. Though you do wonder exactly who the other three occupants are...

[exalted]

Rosette's eyes lit up as she saw the sofas in the room, she had heard of such things but never in her times at the convent had sitting on such a luxurious thing been possible. She could just imagine snuggling down on one's cushiony softness and...

She had to stop herself and took a few slow steady breaths, listening to what the Arbite had to say.

"I am sure the room will be most adequate," she curtsied slightly before picking the second door on the left next to Eneida's room, "I should probably shower before meeting the others, Emperor knows what foulness I have passed through on my travels."

Opening the door, she ushered her luggage inside and snagged her travelling bag off the back as it zipped through the door. Wandering over to the bathroom door she opened it a crack to make sure nobody was inside before stepping in. Grabbing the hem of her habit, she started to pull it up over her head, revealing the pale, atheletic body underneath.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Traveling for so long in often less-than-luxurious conditions, the ability to enjoy some semblance of permanency is almost of welcome as the ability to access clean, hot water. You pile your habit atop the small sink within the bathroom, and slip into the medium sized shower stall to let the glorious steam shoot forth from the nozzle above. The shower even has a sliding door to allow yourself to properly enjoy the heat of the wash, and you settle in to cleanse the filth of too many damnable spaceports off the pristine white skin that covers your body. For as long, or as short as you decide to make your shower, nobody dares to bother you as you get clean. It's almost too perfect, being able to unwind ever so slightly after the stress of this induction. It almost lifts the weight of your future off your shoulders.

Of course, worry is never too far away from you. In particular, once you've finished enjoying your bath time, a most challenging scenario presents itself... As you rifle through your travel back, you find it devoid entirely of towels! For all of its utilitarianism, the bathroom seems to lack any as well. In fact, the bathroom seems to be lacking something else... your habit! Gone! Somebody must have taken it while you luxuriated in the shower!

Somebody indeed...

[exalted]

Rosette let out a sigh as she freed herself from the heavy habbit finally, folding it neatly as was left in only the a thin, plain white shift as her under clothes which she pulled off as well. She admired herself briefly in the mirror, her small athletic breasts sprounted firm on her chest, topped with small pink nipples that hardened slightly in the cool ship air. She chewed on her lip slightly as she saw the black fleur-de-lys tattoo on her left butt cheek, rolling her eyes at how she had let Miranda give her that.

Stepping into the shower, she felt the weight of her travels melt away in the warm water, sudsing up her body completely to remove any last taint as release her aches and pains as steam filled the cubicle. She pouted as the shower timed out, the water suddenly stopping as it informed her she was done for that cycle and she opened the shower cubicle, reaching around in the daze as was partly blinded by suds for her towel she kept in her bag... only she didn't feel it.

No, the couldn't be possible, she had packed it... she was sure, she felt around again as her panic grew and she stepped out dripping wet to search properly, but still no towel. Her stomach fluttered as she tried to calm down, surely there would be a spare in here... and none on the towel wrack... none in the cupboard she was forced to bend over to look in... okay, okay, panic building... no problem, she would just have to put her habit on wet, it wasn't far to the room and... w-where was her habit? or her shift?

She clenched her hands angrily, this was no longer a case of her and everyone else forgetting that towels belonged in bathrooms.

"Eneida?" She shouted through the door to the open area, cracking it open slightly to stick her head out but hid her body behind it, "Eneida? I need a little help..."

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

As you peak outside the door, you find your target rather easily. Eneida has since removed her carapace armor and weaponry and put them away in her quarters, and now lounges on one of the four couches within the commons room, clad now only in the black bodysuit that made up the under portion of her uniform. She leans back further, peaking over the arm of the unpretentious piece of furniture, quirking an upside down brow in your direction. She's certainly good at playing the fool! Though such should be expected of the Arbiters, with their low cunning, so often used to lure criminal elements out from their dens of villainy to crush them. Only... well, only now she's lured you into getting nude and taken your habit!

"You need some help scrubbing your back? 'Cause that's a little forward of you, Toots. I'm not sure how you gals run things in the temples, but we didn't go rubbing each other down back at the fortress-precinct." You can practically feel the smugness in her voice, even if she's trying to play it down.

[exalted]

Rosette shuddered in rage behind the door, her body wet and slippery with suds still as the lady Arbite gloated

"Eneida, this is not funny," she huffed, "Give me back my habit.. or... or else"

She tried to sound tough but her voice faltered.

"P-please, before someone else comes," she danced nervously from foot to foot.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

"Well, gee, I'm not sure exactly what you're asking me for, Rosie. Seems like I could some lessons on the proper lexicon." She quips, her grin more readily showing through her quizzical facade. She rolls over, so she can now more directly look at you as you glare at her from the safety of the door. With the same childish glee in her eyes as when she teased you earlier, the Arbiter seems content to play with you now that she has you in a vulnerable state.

"I could probably go and get you one of my towels, if you'd like. But see, I'm real weird about my towels. Some people just take right off with them, if you could imagine. Just steal them right out from under others. So if I was to loan you one of my towels, well, I might just have to watch you use it. Y'know, just to make sure I get it back."

[exalted]

"W-what?" Rosette stared blankly, wide eyed in shock, "Y-you want to..."

The shock of Eneida's demand stunned the anger and outrage right out of her. Her mind slowly ticked over her options as the butterflies in her stomach went crazy at even entertaining the thought of.... but what options did she have?

Eventually she would have to leave the bathroom and the perverted Arbite would see her anyway, assuming the other acolytes didn't return beforehand.

"F-fine," she mumbled defeated, stepping away from the door as she covered herself as best she could with her arms and waited for Eneida to fetch the towel, her nipples hard as strange feeling fluttered between her legs

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

By stepping away, you manage to at least avoid looking at the cheshire grin that no doubt covers the Arbiter's face as you admit defeat to her. It almost feels like eternity as you wait for her to appear, though a hand rounds the corner of the door frame and slides it open just far enough for the older woman to slip in, her other hand holding a large, fluffy white towel for you to dry yourself with. At least she had the decency to actually provide one of her own, instead of backhandedly giving you your travel towel back. She hands it off to you with the satisfied smile of a victor, though you get the strangely titillating idea that she's smiling for a little bit more than her successful maneuver in the spite war, based on how her pale eyes seem to sink down low to appreciate the tautness of your body and the pertness of your breasts, which despite their smaller size, still manage to spill out from the protection of your arms in some capacity.

"Well? Let's not waste time. The others might start thinking something is afoot..."

[exalted]

Rosette bristled again at Eneida's infuriating smugness.

She rolled her eyes as the other woman held out the towel rather than just tossing it to her, meaning she would have to step over and reveal some part of herself as she took one hand off to grab it. Groaning internally she used her left hand, the one she had been covering her sinful little cleft with to grab the towel, revealing the neat strip of the white hair above her mound as she grabbed for the towel.

She was tempted to turn her back on the Arbite, but realised that would only lead to her showing off her tattoo, and Emperor knew what the Arbite would do with that little bit of knowledge. Unfurling the towel as quickly as she could, she tried to wrap it around her body as quickly as she could, forgetting about trying herself in her haste to be covered again.

"Now, my habit, what did you do with it," she protested, stamping her foot down despite how ridiculous and powerless she looked.