READ ALL ABOUT IT — [ She wandered Eridan Week, a step and a half, a stumble and some more. Her thinkpan flares up with more and more pain. Nugthrobs were a bit of a bitch for her. Not a great feeling, you know? She stepped past other guests at the venue, many of them are familiar obviously from previous cycles, but a majority of them she has no interest in. Her eyes follow the ground up to the horizon in the sky, then she finally sees her. Stood about a foot and then some taller than Darlin is an older woman. One side of her hair is red, another side of black. She's focused on a dispute between an English, and a Strider. She's starstruck, as always. She had an energy which betrayed her age, her eyes were spirals that you could fall into and never come back from. Glistening in her own sweat and with her own blood running down her nose, a visage of beauty and perversion. Her title is Rankmaid, an incredible woman. Darlin hasn't ever asked for her name. Maybe because she didn't need to know. The columnist is froze for a moment, maybe more. She's unsure why, she can't tell if she's nervous or if she thinks she's not capable of talking to her. Her hands gripped the strap of her messenger bag and she's lost in thought. She's an ancestor. Way out of Darlin's league and age-range. Her hair was long enough to reach down to her waist, thick and soft. Her horns curled outwards like a ram. In her lips was a cigarette, lit and smoke waft in the air. Darlin had a lot of shame, but around her.. it felt good to be shameless. The columnist swallows down her fear and stepped forward despite the doubt. She grabbed a pack of cigarettes from her bag, puts one in her mouth and with a quiet breath, she speaks up. "..Hey, devotchka." It took the Rankmaid more than a second or two to respond. She turned to Darlin, big smile and all. "Oh, hi Darlin!" There was this quality to her voice that Darlin couldn't describe, it was wonderful simply put. The columnist has to look up to respond. "Hi. Er—- I think you have something of mine?" The Rankmaid leaned back, the blood still running fresh down her face. Pressing two fingers to her chin. "Oh!" Without missing a beat, she produces the lighter from nowhere. "You mean this?" Darlin rose her hand. "Yeah—- that- that's it. …If I could ask—- why do you have that?" "You told me to keep it?" She titled her head. "What?" Darlin confused as ever looked to the side. "Why would I do that?" "You were really out of it and handed me your lighter. Something about how you needed a reason to come back to me? I couldn't deny that! It was adorable!" The Rankmaid rose her hand, ruffling up Darlin's hair. Darlin froze. "Haah… really?" The Rankmaid hands her back her lighter. "Really!" The columnist pauses, she took another drag of her cigarette and grumbled. "Stupid of me." "You're so cute I can't handle it.. " Her smile is brighter than ever. "Thank you.. devotchka…" Darlin pocketed her lighter. The ancestor's cigarette fills the air between them with smoke, the air they share. This air they share. The Rankmaid looks down at Darlin, before putting a finger on her chin. "Psst." She guides her head upwards. "C'mere." She sat still as the Rankmaid kisses the tip of her lit cigarette into her unlit one. Her fingers drum at her side and smoke is drawn into her body, her eyes met with hers. The cycle at Eridan Week was gonna be fine. (agegap, #substance, #leijonwriting. #eridanweek, cigarettes, cigarette kiss, f/f) ]