[Private] And this is why a Viking is good. (Grimm)

Haddy could not stifle the laughter that bubbled in her throat as she watched Stalgrats fall from his perch next to her. The sight was truly amusing, and his profanities afterwords were just as entertaining, for she found no disturbances from such language in men. She quite often cursed, herself, though not when in polite company, of course. She had some manners, unlike most who use language to such a degree.

"Now I hope you don't intend to stay there the whole day, Stalgrats..." she mumbled out, managing to pry the sleeping dog off of her thighs, to sit up. Her head protested any and all movement, but she forced herself to ignore it. She attempted to recall last nights' events, but could produce nothing except that she had begun drinking the sack mead the scarabin had been generous enough to hand her.

From this position, and Stalgrats', she could only see his back, though she had seen his chest as well. The scars intrigued her. She'd always considered bearing scars a weakness - but all of his said nothing but raw masculinity. Her brows furrowed a little in thought. So many things she had considered a weakness, Stalgrats bore with pride and strength. How were her views so twisted and different? She rolled herself over onto her stomach, close enough now to the edge that she could reach over and touch Stalgrats if she wished. As he seemed to be getting ready to stand again, she laid a hand on a massive scar on his backside, attempting to still him.

She studied it - she could not tell what sort of weapon made it, or if it had been some sort of animal that had gored him so. She ran her fingers over it slowly, traveling from that one to the multitude of others lain over his skin and chitin. She forgot how long, whether it was seconds or minutes that she spent simply tracing his scars with apparent fascination.

"How...How did you get all of these?" she asked quietly, her own softness surprising her. She pulled her hand away for a moment to sit herself up on the edge of the bed, before laying her hand on the first scar she'd done so to. If he'd cared to, he could sit up, move, but it was probable that she would simply return her hand to a scar, where ever she could manage. She had so few compared to him...And she had considered her skin dirty, marred and ugly...It was in that moment she realized she had been using double standards since she'd ran away. Pleasant.

Having fallen his voice was a muttering of low phrases but, the hand upon his arse made him twist, looking back with great difficulty- and he glowered at her, "Well, if we're going to be touching of asses I am certainly not one to complain-", of course, the tracing of the scars caused him to; well- pause, he finally moving so he is laying across the way- over both beds as she scurried along his form. Each scar she touched telling a story of a fight- each pit a tail of pain. A long process of healing. But, as she got toward his back they died off- being only one, small scar at the middle of his back- before picking back up with almost vicious intensity.

As she now laid upon him, investigating the scars of his arms; he felt his arousal crowning once more; though she had little in the way of feminine charm- she was, in truth, very female to his senses; and the skin not covered in chitenous armor? It was hot to the touch. His manhood stood proud; almost touching the floor (the beds are only about a foot and a half off the ground), by near an inch. And he started to turn grey in the face with blushing want.

Of course, as she continued down his back and along his sides and back down- the first scar upon his bottom held her attention; for it was large and still rather fresh on his mind. Though, with his legs she could simply ask about any...

But her question causes him to breath heavily. A low huff as his precum began to dribble freely- a musk, like his own fueled by his want- though he could not smell it.

"I... fought, fighting, torture, attempted executions...", he sighs and murmurs, "The one you currently touch was made when I was fighting a Dromos- the others you traced along my upper back?". His question draws off as he attempts to keep himself from causing a scene- and, with 'ease' he does so, "Those were from my youth- my father was a good man, some men took a liking to me and wished to purchase me- my father refused. So I was taken and tortured.", he motions to his face, "It is why I lack so much of my mask."- and why his scarring was almost horrendous around certain portions of it.

"My legs and arms are because my body is tough- they try to cripple me, and I do not feel the wounds for some time after battle- and only a bath in salt water reveals them.", he sighs, still heavily aroused- but in control, "That is why I am scarred. But it is a sign I am stronger than most."- NO DOUBLE STANDARD THAR!

She was an apt listener, always had been. She had always been apt at storytelling, as well. Both traits were adapted from her own, lovely, darling mother that had been stolen from her all to soon in life. As she listened to him explain the scars, she smiled faintly, not realizing she was in utter fascination with this creature. Not yet. Her pride was much too high strung inside herself to allow her to realize that she was, blatantly, attracted to and interested in the scarabin she basically sat straddling, though it was mighty uncomfortable to her injured leg, and besides. She was on his backside, not front. She was amazed though, at how unfazed he seemed to be at her presence, in reality, crawling all over his back. She hadn't noticed how close she'd kept her body while inspecting the scars, and still kept her body as she fondly traced the outside line of the scar. The scar was so tauntingly close to his arse, too, which made her chuckle silently in a fond way. She adored how the muscles and chitin seemed to flinch when she barely brushed her fingertips over them too. As if it was a natural reflex of the body.

She forced herself to abandon the attentions to that particular scar. She'd seen several large ones on his upper back, near the neck, too. In a deceptively relaxed way, she laid her entire body over his, her head resting in the crook of his shoulders softly. Such an odd thing for a creature meant to be harsh and dangerous to the touch was she; she was so soft. Her armor, though wickedly strong in defensive manners, still held a certain smoothness about it, where there were no scars. Her skin where no chitin lay, was extremely soft, almost downy to the touch. She let her already half closed eyes flutter shut, and let her hands roam blindly over his arms, her reach not near as wide as his, as she encouraged him to lay his arms out wide so she may further lay her body over his.

In all likelihood, she still had no clue what she was doing to the poor viking. Odd for her, having been raped and abused so much in her life, not to notice his plight. Though, at this distance she could tell his breathe was labored.

"'a sign I am stronger than most'..." she sighed, repeating his words. How easy it would be to take up that frame of mind, to enter the ideas that her ugly scars were not in fact a blemish on her hide, but a compliment to whatever strength she sought. Yes, it would be easy, if she were an easy person. She believed that Stalgrats was stronger than his enemies, he had rescued her and proven that fact. He had also shown he was strong by not taking advantage of her over the evening whilst she was drunk. That proved a cool-headed, controlled man. She had met a man once, who in all sense, had been drunk. Drunk with lust that is. He had taken advantage of her, and though she had been willing enough, it was not fair. He had sought to please himself - what her vision of most men was now, thanks to various figures holding to the standard. Stalgrats had bent the standard, been something different. Did that mean that she could be different, by already being so strong to herself, by not allowing weakness?

But then...What was weakness. To her, it was proof you had let yourself be wounded; scars. To surrender or not fight to the death; cowardice. Stalgrats was no coward, that was obvious. But she was stuck again in her double-standard. Stalgrats bore twice, thrice, perhaps even four more times scars than she, yet she found him very handsome indeed. None of his scars marred his features in her eyes, those feminine grey eyes. Feminine. She opened her eyes, glancing upwards to Stalgrats', though she was sure he could not look around far enough in his position to see her. The only thing about her that was feminine was her eyes, and her poise when she wished to be. Poise...Femininity... Oh lord. Suddenly her grogginess faded some, and she blatantly understood why Stalgrats was being so calm and placid in her ministrations.

She lifted herself back up so she was sitting and straddling him like she had been, though she quickly regretted it as she fell forward onto her arms, face contorted in silent pain as waves upon waves of ache echoed from her leg. She'd moved too quickly, and now she was rather stuck. Oh what a predicament.

"G-gods... Stalgrats, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - I mean, not that you're unattractive or anything, I just - oh, I'm such a blathering idiot!" she scolded herself, thoroughly embarrassed. She'd seen and been completely oblivious to all the signs - though Stalgrats really had not been that obvious. He was really a controlled meddian. What a fool she'd made of herself, and now she couldn't move, at least not easily, and not without causing further injury to herself. Stalgrats would have to do the moving, if he could figure out the little circus act it would require in order to preform any maneuver. By the death bringer - she knew she couldn't figure it out, not without help!

The coolness of her body was off-setting to how much of a fire she put into his loins. His flesh heated up quite readily under the coolness of her touches- where skin was scarred and she ran fingers over. As she was doing so her began listing what made them, "A spear...", the long gash upon his upper arm was named, "An axe...", one around near his neck was called. As she ran over his body she could feel puncture wounds, "Arrows...", and further along his abdomin, "A dagger...". It was all he could do not to moan under how she tickled the right buttons. His face was stern as he hissed his pleasure under his breath. Even as she tauntingly came close to touching his groin- simply to settle upon a scar there, "A arachin..."

Of course, he didn't know well enough why she simply taunted him- kept herself out of reach of his arms, so he too could trace the scars upon her frame. He pondered this even as she breathes against the unshelled back of his body. The heat washing over his neck and shoulders as he shifted. Adjusting himself so he didn't seem too far gone.

Then, he felt her jerk- moving quickly, too quickly, he heard her words, babbled and quick- even as he felt her pin her leg under his- and he could feel the bandages tighten against her leg and he, sighed before propping himself up and looking back, his entire body pivoting upon his hip's axis, allowing her to see his arousal, but- also the most concerned look he could give, his eyeridges arched in surprise as she hurt herself in an attempt to scramble away- only to be stuck. And, he just sighed, heavily. The venting of the heat from his nostrils caused the air to steam as he breathed in and out a few times... Before speaking.

His voice, like always was a slow ponderous thing, thunderous, but- curious, "Of what are you fretting about? You should probably be proud, normally I don't get like this with simple touches...", of course, the 'titanic' man just chuckles to himself, he looking down at his proud display of maleness before quirking an eyebrow toward the Dromos. Apparently he'd traumatized her.

Such as he was, he was not surprised...

Haddy had felt her face flush with blood long before Stalgrats had turned himself about, and displayed himself, rather openly mind you. She wasn't necessarily embarrassed on the part that she had caused such a reaction in him, but rather that she'd done so unknowingly. Her head gave a dull throb, reminding her that quick movement was still out of the question for her. Her knee, though bandaged, throbbed equally at the current predicament it was being put into. She was also embarrassed that she'd let herself get so lost in her thoughts, listening to what made each scar, just the simple magnificence in which Stalgrats bore each, and remembered what, or who, had caused them. Of course, conveying these thoughts while Stalgrats was nude in front of her, completely open to view, was a difficult task.

"I.. I-I just didn't realize that I was being so provocative...I don't normally...I've not...not in... not in a while..." she stuttered, attempting to shy her gaze elsewhere than Stalgrats' nether region. She managed to guide her gaze to Stalgrats' eyes, and locked them there in hopes her vision would not stray.

She was not shy to the acts of nature; sex was a familiar act to her, though usually she had been forced into the situations. Her body had learnt from these encounters, how to handle most anything. She was not afraid of another encounter. She was more afraid of being left alone again. Though little of the time she'd spent with Stalgrats she had been aware, she knew she enjoyed his company from what little she was aware of. His current erection had not faltered that opinion of him; he was male, and she was... well, technically female, and what she had been doing had been very provocative. Anyone would have had the same type of reaction, he was at no fault.

As she blushed, as he exposed himself and she stammered and yawwed infront of him like a woman scorned for being interested in a man below her station. Now, weather or not this is true was a conjecturable thing -but to be quite honest he doubted the 'station' held wouldn't be greater than his own. But, as she moved away from him at that shocking speed all people held when surprised beyond their measure- or, indeed, displayed uncommon oddity in arousal or habits not really on par with what one expected. Though, he chuckles as he runs his fingers along the rather 'abnormal' even thickness and crown of his manhood. Chewing plates baring in a grin now as he watched her.

"Oh? Provocative? That isn't what I worry about- you see, having another upon me set me in this state, your attention to my flesh made me this way.", his slate colored eyes locked onto hers, even as he shifted his weight to keep himself comfortable.

However he now looked her over appraisingly and, with little else, with an eye for look. You see, while, yes he was male, and yes she was female- he was hard enough to excite merely through touch. Her fingers hadn't simply stirred lust- but interest in her. And, indeed, he enjoyed being around her- and she smelled better than most females in the port did. So, in his mind he saw not why he shouldn't simply ask... And he does...

"Would you care for me to return the favor?", eyeridges raise and he gives a cocky grin- perhaps, overly so; given the situation...

She sat, in fading embarrassment and stirring interest, as she tried to prevent her eyes lingering to...Intimate zones. As he claimed that her attentions had been the cause of his arousal, and he basically fondling himself, her blush brightened anew. That was exactly what she had meant when she said she'd not purposefully been provocative. She however, was finding him acting very provocative in return, though likely he was just acting how he did whenever he was aroused. She wouldn't know, they had never met before yesterday eve. How long had it been since then? She must have slept deep, surely because of the alcohol, so it must be nearing, or already night again. Would explain why she was fully awake, she was nocturnal after all. It truly had been a long time she had last had sex; willingly most of all. Both physically and emotionally, she was longing for the intimacy once more, and perhaps with more feeling than any other time.

As his eyes began to sweep over her form, she suddenly became self conscious of her scars again - the fear welling up in her that she was not suitable. That fear was short lived, however, when she reminded herself that Stalgrats bore scars in high regard, and that he had interest in both male and female genders; she was, fortunately to say, the perfect mix of the genders thanks to her masculinity. She had the wit and intelligence of a female without the testosterone of a male, and the body of a male with the sexual body functions (minus the breasts, thank the gods) of a female.

She nearly jumped as she heard him ask the question, and for a moment sat there, expressionless in shock. Return the favor? Why in the world would he like to do that? Was he mad? Or truly desperate? Well, either way...Her body, normally cool, had begun to warm on the inside, and she felt a pleasant tingle coursing through her that wasn't brought by the lingering alcohol. Her skin wouldn't warm, no, but perhaps that was an endearing trait. Stalgrats had said he was from Shard, didn't he? Perhaps the chill reminded him of home. If so, that made her feel proud. Hesitantly, perhaps with a pause a moment or two too long, she parts her mouth slightly, sighs, and nods.
"I..I would like that...Very much," she pauses, uncertain, but decides to address him anyways. "Stalgrats.." she murmurs softly, tilting her head down a little so she was looking further up at him, in a demure submissive gesture, one of acceptance, as well. She had a feeling that this wasn't to be a simple toss in the hay. But then again, she might just be fogged up by the arousal running through her at the sight, touch and sound of this hulking scarabin who emanated the masculinity she so desired.

Her fidgeting movements made him almost chortle once more- it was an obvious, almost ludicrous in his eyes, fact she had never had a man be- well... Seductive toward her. It was an odd thing to consider for the large scarabin. Truth be told? He was enjoying flaunting his masculinity before this woman- he felt like, in truth? That she needed to feel better about herself- she acted manish, her voice was like a boy's to be honest, and quite frankly the only female attribute were the eyes and the slope of that delicious looking neck of hers. And he? Well, he was trying for the approach that would garner the least resistance, he was a Shardi Bug; that did not mean he liked his women kicking and screaming. Silly legends about the barbarians from the north. It's not as if he were at fault for the actions of others. Plus, if you looked at it, he mused, he'd saved a damsel and was getting his reward.

He could see her visibly shrink while looking him over- even before she almost stares at him dumb-founded... Her answer however, caused him to grin. His chewing plate showed as he laughed heartily. "Then, perhaps you should lay back- I am told that my size prevents a few more non-euclidean positions where the woman is able to stand atop and allow me access like a fountain.", he grins devilishly, "And I believe something more oral in tradition would be in order hm?"

Of course, looking the scarabin over it was obvious he wasn't all that worred about stroking himself- he'd continued to; his arousal dripping down and along his hands; strickly oozing and dripping onto the blanket now as he toothily grinned. The smell of his arousal was a thick, hearty musk that would be comparable to many, many things. However it couldn't compare to the scent of his natural maleness that seemed to exude from his pores.
You see, he was a being who's masculinity was a guaranteed thing- who was apparently not violent in his conquest of a single woman's bedding. Why had he need to be violent? She had expressed a liking of him the night before; and, with her leg being bound as it was- and the arousal making the pain uninhibiting she was likely much more wanting than he thought.

His hand was, gentle as it touched the side of her face; his own fingers were hot- almost burning to the touch; and he leant his head down to gently nudge her forehead with his nasal plate. He chuckling with that deep, rumbling laughter his kind were known for. He found her amusing, cute, and likely more attractive than many men had found her in the past. The reasoning is anyone with such scars had killed a lot of cowards, or at least lived to see them destroyed. Although, his fingertips slowly run along her neck, his eyes alighting curiously on her chest. His eyes clouding with some calculations before he murmurs, "You could be a good swordsman....", this being quite close to the side of her head... After all, she was now properly cuddled into the giant of a man's warm, muscular form... Even his chitin was warm. How's that for a nice, hot, man eh?

(Sorry it took so long. Fucking WoW.)

Though she had given her answer, he apparently had deigned to enjoy looking at her a bit more before speaking, then acting. All in all, she didn't mind. Every moment his gaze was on her, she was becoming that much more confident that she was, simply put, not the ugly and decrepit dromos she had made herself out to be since her abandonment of her father. She pondered for a moment if he was still alive, and whether she should hunt him out. To slaughter him, of course, but she quickly put that out of her mind. So far as she remembered, her father was a fat-tail dromos, and would be stronger than she. Much, much stronger than she. It would be futile to attempt a solo fight with him. She'd wind up on the floor of her, or his, room once more pleading for him to stop, to stop calling her 'his angel', to stop the thrusting movements that she had once hated so fervently. However, these thoughts did not linger long, though during the interim her eyes most likely glazed over some from the mournful memories.

She was gently brought from her thoughts from the intoxicating warmth on her cheek, and it took her a moment to realize that in her absent-minded remembrances, she had complied to his wishes and lain back, and now one of his massive hands was mimicking her form, having lain itself over her cheek in a passive gesture. She looked up with her partially clouded eyes, lips parted from thought as was normal with her, as Stalgrats brought his nose to her forehead in a motion reminiscent to a nuzzle. He was chuckling, and that vibration shuddered through her with a warmth not brought by the slowly traveling fingertips of the scarabin beginning to drape down her less-than-masculine, petite neck that she had never been able to buff up, no matter the exercises she'd preformed. And he murmurs as she finds his gaze brought momentarily to her bare, boyish chest which she had ever been the most proud of. She could not help the slight smirk that gathers on her lips, and she notices that unknowingly she has brought her body closer to that source of warmth she normally never had, and Stalgrats to the chilling body of her own. They were quite close, she realized. And she was not one to complain. In a way, she could be considered an cold-hearted woman, true to the statement entirely, for she was sure her blood ran cold and her currently pounding muscle of life ran chill with it.

A sly, teasing retort was all her mind could think of to respond to him as she rested her icy palms over his sides, a slight chuckle following her breath, no cloud of steam following it as her breath, too, was cold and no cold would create such in this atmosphere, though Stalgrats seemed to blow out enough of those clouds for the both of them.

"A swordsman I would make, Stalgrats? Well, perhaps, but not in the manner I would prefer. I afear I am to ever be the shield-maiden you see," she chides playfully, craning her neck some as she nudges the side of his face with hers, the motion running a wave along her form all the way to the end of her tail, which instinctively curled around one of Stalgrats' legs, resting passively though with the occasional squeeze reminiscent of a snake with prey.

Cold was her skin, but ever warm was her personality, and she made the best use of that singular warmth.

(It's not a problem, Jacko...I've just been missing my buddy <3 )

The warrior only smirked as his soon to be partner flushed at his appraising glances over her form. She seemed lost in thoughts of other times; from the look in her dulled eyes, times where it was not as pleasing as this. Perhaps it was trouble with a man? Or, perhaps even worse a brother. But, as she laid back and he over her- his own slate colored eyes closed as he felt himself glide over her thigh. His manhood, for he was a man regardless of his species, was already fairly drooling as he hunched over her; his muscular back and shoulders showing the light strain of his almost loving embrace. And he just smiled to himself; those scared lips twisting into a light grin over his chewing plates. He was enjoying the cold of her body against him. And, even though she was cool... He knew warmth was within. A luke warmth that would be barely felt in their coupling...

As she looks upon him he felt self conscious, what man wouldn't after all? A woman would gauge him so in this position, with his hand so languidly placed upon her cheek. Although he soft, supple neck, being one of the only indications that she was, indeed a she, his thumbs gently traveled along her throat, stroking down farther and farther as he finally just chuckled a bit to himself. Some women he knew enjoyed feeling dominated, the power a man held as he 'choked' them. But, he felt little reactions through his soft fingertips- contractions of muscles and worry that weren't present in most of his consorts. Well, he preferred to call them such, whores being a derogatory name for the Thane-Lord's women of the house. Well, that and most of them would slip a knife to your soft parts if you said something like that. However that 'boyish' chest made him chuckle faintly. You see, his sort were rather the range of bodily types- while certainly there were skinny effeminate men, more so there were women much like her- though, truth be told both were rarities and he was unused to seeing no definite acknowledgments of her femininity.

The teasing answer she gave him made his chewing plates bare in a grin, he liked a woman with some personality! Not that there was a lack of that in the cold north, but in all honesty there were far more women with bigger assets and less intellect than he'd like to admit. That and one who'd smother you with their 'fun bags'...

"I see, but being a shield maiden isn't always so... bad. After all, you get a warrior to be the sword arm hm?", of course, his reaction to her running her nose along her cheek was a suppressed shudder of arousal. He just breathing heavily as he attempts to keep himself composed. Although, he does lean his head down, lips gently kissing her neck- an odd thing, considering most male Scarabin had a majority of facial plate covering their lips. He just growls hungrily into the approximation of where she could hear was.

"Shall we begin?", and with that throbbing heated manhood laying right over her latch- it might be more of him seeking her allowance for his entrance... After all, forcing one's groin through an unwilling latch... Yeah, it was painful for both parties...

She shuddered as she felt his length brush past her injured thigh - a slight jolt ran through her, though she could hardly discern whether it was from the pain, or the lust induced high brought on by the overwhelming scent of the male above her. Either way, she fell in love with the sensation of a chill running up her spine and causing her to gasp quietly. It was almost an addiction slowly developing, and with no disadvantages.

As he responded to her tease, she couldn't help but turn the sigh she'd started into a faint chuckle. She was about to respond - of course, she'd never let anyone but herself have the last word - when she felt his lips on her neck. Her eyelids fluttered dreamily, her breath hitched, and her fingers clasped down on the massive Scarabin's shoulder plates. She'd been bitten, scarred, and touched before in so-called 'intimate' manners, though it was far from intimate on her half, but never had it felt so good! Then his growl, strong and deep was brought to the dark, plated armor covering her ear - and with that she was lost entirely. Though he asked his question then, she couldn't see how he could expect her to do anything but comply. By now she was breathing raggedly, and whenever he adjusted even slightly, she shivered. Almost unknown to her, her latch slid open with her arousal. She'd always had it forced open before - though all of her rapists had the wit to pry the latch open with claws or talons so not to injure themselves. Too bad - she'd rather have had them hurt themselves in the process. If Stalgrats had paid any attention - he would've noticed the slight grooves, permanently dug into the thick armor of her latch, caused from obvious sources. Scratches just don't belong in an area like that.

She squeezed his shoulders lightly and with an open mouthed smile, she gently snuffled his neck - as his face was still dug into her own petite one, and gave her reply.


"I am yours, O mighty warrior..."

As she snuffled his thick neck- his musky scent; very much like those of her own kind, and many kinds of men before. It was hearty and held a tang of musk that was normally associated with his species. Over all, it was- hopefully, pleasant on the senses. Since he had not washed and basically slept off the alcoholic binge he'd been on with her. Of course, as she does so; the vibratory shudder of enjoyment races through his form. You see, the large scarabin was really a softie when it came to women, reguardless of body- and, as had been found, he tended to woo and romance most who shared his bed.

Even as she gasps, her body being like an electric current of cool, if moist, air against his admittedly large form. He just smiles at her words. Mind you, as a large man he felt often, and was correct, that slow and steady was a good thing. So, As his length, rigid with arousal and swollen fullest pressed against her now undefended womanhood. He is reminded just how tight someone so much smaller than he is would be. Now, he doesn't ram down, the slick, semi-soft length itself did some of the work as he felt himself sliding against the closed lips of her moist cunny.

Though, as he grunts, and exerts himself, she can see he- truly, was being careful not to tear her apart in entrance.

Although, eventually, the thick head of that turgid cock would find itself engulfed; and, thankfully- in a tight embrace. Eventually- although, he speaks no words now, his thick neck strains with the obvious effort of just not spreading her legs apart and ramming himself home. A tiresome, and valiant, effort if ever there was one on a man's part!

Her chest expanded and contracted with heaving strokes as her lungs shuddered, interrupted by the little pleasured gasps and moans that slipped past her resolve. No longer was she attempting to shake off an opponent, shove away an aggressor, or repel a rapist. She was, for the first time, truly enjoying a coupling that was brought to her. And so respectable a partner, too, he not trying to harm her by going so achingly slow. Too sore the truth however, that her body had long since been broken beyond repair, and though she was smaller than him, she had been prepared too many times before him for any source of pain to blossom. No, she felt only intoxicating and igniting warmth that was so foreign to her due to her icy veins. She cooed next to his head, nuzzling him tenderly as she took a hand to stroke the opposite cheek she was affectionately rubbing.
"Don't fear my pain, Stalgrats..." she paused as a soft moan hit her throat, "I feel no pain from a partner, you are not the first nor largest that has taken me...And they are not so sweet and kind as you." she murmured warmly, the message difficult to relay due to the jolts of pleasure that ran up her core from both of their focal points.

She pulls her head back slightly to deliver a soft, chaste kiss to him, truly chaste because she is not one for romance. Honestly, the whole situation was amazingly new to her, how a man could hold so much emotion and reverence to another, let alone a female. She had always thought them hard and without tenderness. Though not one for romance, she liked the change. It was new, it felt amazing, and most above all, it found her a person to begin to care for and respect when she respected none but a lover who never gave anything back.

Tauntingly, knowing that he now knew her message, she rocked her hips only slightly against him to cause some friction. She gave a daring smirk at him, in challenge. She would test his mettle this time, oh yes indeed, and he would most likely test hers. She would find out if he were strong enough to support her in her times of weakness and desperation, to comfort her and to be her confident when none else were allowed the secret of her tenderness, and he would find out that she, though definitely masculine, was most undeniably female in the manner that she can hold her own mentally against any challenger, except him, were they to partner again in the future. Yes, if he proved worthy in her eyes, and he was close at the moment, she would follow him devotedly, loyally, and completely, given he let her.

And with those thoughts and the challenge given, she stared at him with that mischievous smirk, one palm still caressing his cheek and the other draped over his shoulder plates.

The warrior knew of this with but simple exploration- he felt scars; well, he thought they were... But, he only smiled as she moaned with such an intense lust. Almost whorishly as he went with such a torturously slow pace. He knew damn well what he was doing- seeing as he likely knew, what with some of the scarring he'd seen, that some of her other mates were quite... Ah, large. This however... was affirmed and it almost made him scowl. He stopping with his slow assault to give her a rather flat look.

Before he just shrugged his shoulders, "That's a bit of a disheartening thing to tell me sweetling. Especially when we're coupled you know.", the chiding tone of his voice told all. Seeing that he, truthfully was an average sized being amongst his brothers; most of which were tall and enormous- she must be daft mentioning size in the eyes of a skilled warrior. Since, the size of the weapon meant nothing without the skill to use it. So, he only grinned, the chasteness of her kiss and the grin on her lips caused his grining plates to show once more and his throaty laughter to, once more, erupt from his chest. He leaning his head down and capturing her lips against his. He of course was happily doing so; before pulling back and running that ashen tongue along his lips. She did taste sweet, too bad he'd not tempted her with his mouth more- perhaps he could've wooed her into crewing his ship then. A dromos is a good ally- very good, if one can get them to stop being cold and distant.

And wrap them properly.

So, as she wished him to begin; he pulled back after but half his manhood, for he was proudly a man if ever he were asked, was within her. And then with his size advangtage, pushed into her; while getting into a kneeling position. Those pillar like arms resting between her claws and shoulders; his fierce, blue, gaze right into her eyes as he hilted himself within her. The 'briny depths' of her womanhood were appealing to him. While, certainly, he disliked the cold he was easily as hot as a coal within ice as he began to pull himself out again- having not stopped with his initial penetration. Of course, he looks at her legs; pausing in thrust to grin, "I don't think what I had in mind is physically possible for you...", of course, her damnable tail would cause some trouble with more exotic ways of flattening a woman to the bed.

So, he pulls her hips to him as he thrusts forward; the external genitals of his rather humanoid form slapping against her buttocks even as he felt the tickle of her tail run along the underside of his rather prodigious manly grapefruits. Though, being a serious man when it came to the bed sport- he had thoughts for her that involved some rather interesting stimulation. And her pondered this even as he began to tilt her upward to a degree- so the tip of his slightly bumpy cock could strike the most surface area in her quim.

Of course, he was practiced and did have a reputation as a man who could breed with a weevil-mule and make it come back for more.

Actually, perhaps that wouldn't be something to brag about...

Well that's fun, I guess this is to a close... Again.

Three months of no response.

(I'm so sorry Jacko... I got hooked into WoW again and i'm only just now working my way out of it again >.< I feel so terrible... I abandoned several sites I'd been working with, including Deviantart. Also it's hard for me to come up with things to write for these, since it is a roleplay and i'm unsure of what will be written in response. Although that is no excuse - I'm making a comeback, and I hope you forgive me. D:> *hugs* )

All thoughts of attempting to challenge her current companion went soaring through the roof of their tiny secluded room, Stalgrats somehow managing to show her yet more pleasures she'd never thought would exist. Her old memories were, at least for the moment, forgotten and she felt like nothing could take her away from this spot - here in a grubby old inn with a rather charming beetle. Only half-realizing she was now moaning and gasping like a common night-time whore to be paid for, she let instinct take complete control of her in an attempt to just bring his lengthfurther into her core, for it felt best there and she was feeling rather greedy all of the sudden. He'd pulled her closer, yes, but she wanted more and in her own ways. She gave a slight wriggle - earning herself a surprised gasp at the minute change of angle - and managed to twist her tail in between the giant Scarabin's legs, and up behind his back. Her tail was long, and very flexible, and was just so that she wrapped it around to hook the barb - carefully - into one of his armor plates, impossibly pulling her closer to him. He wanted her laid flat. Well, she wasn't going to have that, it just wasn't close enough. Using her arms, she heaved herself up and caught onto his shoulders and was now sitting upright in his lap. Indeed in this vantage she was nearly nose-plate to nose-plate with him, and she took advantage of that, pressing another gentle kiss onto him as she used her own powerful legs to lift herself slightly off his thick length, and back down upon him completely.

She was taking control here - for how long, she didn't know, but she was relishing in the change, that she could demand the speed and amount of pleasure that was given. Dominating the situation, as it were. She'd only dominated anyone ever once, and that was because they hadn't known how to have sex. Both partners here knew - oh how they knew! - and this was beginning to make the bed creak awful loud. The poor denizens of the other rooms, or at least the common room, probably wondering what was happening. Ah well - Haddy focused on them, because they were the only ones who mattered right now, and Stalgrats was the only person who mattered to her.

She wondered for a moment if the cool of her body bothered Stalgrats at all - it was an odd thing even for Meddians to be so cold blooded. But as it was, she functioned fine whether she was in the cold or heat, due to that blood. Scorpions were one of the most versatile creatures on Meddus, but there also weren't too many of them for they liked to seclude themselves. It was rare to see a scorpion with a brood, so very rare. They always out-bred, and what creatures were born from those out-species couplings usually didn't live very long because of the mixture of cold and warm blood. Ah well, just means she wouldn't have to worry about being a mother any time soon, if Stalgrats was willing to let her stay. She'd broach that topic later after they'd both been sated, and he was indeed very comfortable.

She forced her mind to return to the present, and focused now on pleasuring them both with the sporadic up-and-down motion of her hips, clenching his broad muscles with her claws, and ever so slightly moving her tail underneath his sacs. That was a thing you couldn't get from most Meddians. She chuckled inwardly, pressing her forehead to his.


(I really am sorry, Jacko... )

(-Has been busy with school work. Is delighted! Responds!- Sorry about the month. D:)

The scarabin's reaction wasn't even tinged with surprise; although the armored shoulder-plate was grasped upon; and she groaning lewdly; as she hauled herself up to him and against him; he grit those chewing plates together in a soft, low, hiss of pleasure. The dragging of her soft inner-flesh was almost as enjoyable as the feeling of her body against his, flesh to flesh, even as she kissed him again. He was gentle, which was something most wouldn't expect from any Northlanded Scarabin, but; the reason was that he feared that he'd hurt her, and- considering the power in his body? He could. That kiss lingered, his tongue trailing against her teeth and palate even as he felt her taking charge.

The oddness of the situation didn't cause him to lose focus, he pushing and tugging back at her whim, knowing full well that she knew what she wanted. He'd let her take it as long as she liked. He wasn't gentle, but, at the same time he was allowing her the luxury of having him at her speed. It felt good to him any way she wished to give it to him. Though, he kept a hold of her bottom; allowing her to rest on his hands even as he helped guide her forward in heavy, hard, thrusts. The slap and scrape of his testicals against her tail and bottom were things he'd rarely, if ever, had the chance to experiance- and his eyes closed, but for a moment, flipping through an index of wenches and women he'd subdued and taken as his own. Only two were through force, and even then... But this broken bird... This poor little scorpion, deserved this.

The claws against his muscles, the feel of her cool body, he loved the feel of power she had about her, it was odd, you see- for he was used to species with obvious traits; the boyish, small, creature in his arms, moaning, kissing; face to face with him, was something he was not used to. He had a wonder if it bothered her what sort of man he was- with his profession, with his fighting, his body...

Insecurities abounded but, as he gazed into her eyes, a low, dull purr was heard; he'd let her enjoy him. As much as she wished.

The way her eyelids fluttered tiredly in a surprisingly warm afterglow was, most different for Haddy. And she liked the feeling. Her tail occasionally flicked up then flopped back onto the bed, much like a faeler's would. Silly little creatures they were, so easy to please and purred when you gave them attention. Apt comparison, really. If her vocal chords were able to purr she would be. Oh she could make a silly attempt at a crackle that could be called a purr, but who wanted to hear an adult gurgle as if ill? Certainly not Haddy. However, the scarabin next to her was able to purr, and whenever he did so she grinned and lightly rested a knuckle or two against his throat to relish the vibrations. She was strewn sleepily on the beds, half entwined with the much larger meddian, though watching him calmly. She wasn't sure what his intents were after this point. Adventure sounded fun - if he mentioned a journey she'd have to plead to be carried along. She didn't plan to be in this dim dreary town any longer anyways. The only reason she had still been here in Grimm was because she hadn't yet decided which direction she'd wanted to go. After getting into nearly half a dozen fights in less than a month, and only in the ports? She'd rather go visit some other places. Grimm could wait a few years to be explored - when she'd packed on more muscle and more combat prowess. Oh yes, she would return with a vengeance.

But for now, she lay there, her body slowly cooling in the aftermath of what had been a very intensive and fulfilling round of sex. Very fulfilling indeed...

She looked at the scarabin with half-lidded eyes, a silly smile on her lips.

"So, does the big burly adventurer fall into slumber, then waltz off whilst his once-time lover sleeps unknowingly?" she asked this halfheartedly you see, though she was prying for a real answer, she had a certain teasing tone to her soft and contented voice.

The large warrior was, to say the least, impressed by the little woman's stamina. Although; as he'd gotten into it and such the roles had turned and he became dominating- but still; she kept him in pleasure for a good, long time. And as of the moment he was napping- his eyes narrowed to mere slits. But, as the knuckles touched to his throat and that girlish grin formed on her lips- he couldn't help but chuckle. Only to end up yawning to almost an impossible degree- lolling his tongue about before rubbing those chewing plates together in a quiet grimace. He was dehydrated. But, at this point he only ran scarred fingertips along her stomach and upward, "Eh?"

At the question she posed he just shrugged, he sighing, "No, I'm too large to sneak- as I've found many times when trying to do so. Nay, I was supposed to be on the look-out for new-recruits.", he again looked up; his broken and scarred face showing a bright grin, "I wouldn't mind another crew member who was willing to pull her weight you know... Of course we would need to wait a few days while we found you proper clothing- since we're due back in the northern oceans relatively soon-ish.", a mere few months really wasn't all that long you know, not for him. But- for her? Maybe longer.

"That is, if, you would join up. We've got roughly equal number of men and women- so; you won't be sequestered for things that another crewman wouldn't be finding in another.", at that he grinned, "And most of all, we'd prefer someone more unique than Sparrow- standoffish bitch that she is.", the last bit, of course, was a joke... Mostly.