Topic: A-Marketing We Will Go!

CherubicMagic

Date: 2009-05-18 14:00 EST
When Lilliana and Corlanthis got together, one could never say there would be a shortage of conversation. The underlying nodes of sexuality and jovial jabs were so thick that it'd easily spread onto some kind of bread item you enjoyed during the morning coffee hour....A muffin, let's just say for the sake of argument.

Today it seemed that one could not really part from the other even though their morning had been spent waking up over a cup of iced tea and coffee, respectively, in the kitchen of the Red Dragon. Innuendos were not in short supply, and there had been mentions of honey and syrup.

Now however, the Witch and the Chef made quite the amiable picture strolling down the cobbled and paved roads of the market. It seems Rhydin could never quite make up it's mind on whether or not it wanted to modernize, or stay it's classic sameness; delightfully backwards and forever stuck in a state of all things fantastically medieval. This echoed further between the flurry of petal skirts and khaki pants, a corseted compliment of old world vs. the easy, long sleeved flow of modernity.

Boots and finely laced shoes tapped side by side, and the fiery buxom began to list off to her Tea Sipping companion just what shops she had in mind to pay a visit to. "All righ', Cor darlin'....Now stop me if I bore ya'." The twinkle behind her amber gaze was an infectious thing, and it spread to the ripe, sun kissed apples of her cheeks. Though there was no physical list, the gypsy's mind was like a trap, and she rattled them off in that pleasantly thick'n'tumble accent her tongue catered to so well.

"I've go'ta see the butcher abou' some fine racks o'lamb. Then it's off t'the glass shop t'see wha' precious bits the crafts'men is lookin' t'throw away...An' las' but no' leas'..." She paused just long enough to adopt a slightly coyer lilt to her smile. "I mus' stop a'the tailors, I've go' a fine garb in mind fer' the occasion an' they'll need my measuremen's."

Molten hues cast up through the coy lower of pale lashes, but the witch managed to suppress the laugh that threatened to join her cheshire quirk of lips. "Do ya' have any business ya' would like t'get done while were here, sweetlin'?"