Eff flexing with bright, golden-green tattoos
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CSQ 8: Fire and Folly

The Cull Sow Queen

Beyond the walls, Panthalassar dripped pensively.

Eff chanced a step closer to the only female goddess within an empire of him. The torn up leathers he wore made a tightening sound, around his legs. The ripped shirt or harness, whatever he believed he was wearing, clung to him unhappily wherever the cloth and leather were still soaked and stuck together. He was very dark skinned and the green tattoos on his chest, arms and stomach could best be seen in the shadows, where he seemed capable of making them glow involuntarily, like a cat’s eyeshine.

“Can’t your brother talk? Can’t he use actual words and save us some time worrying when his next tantrum will be?” Whenever he spoke, his mint-green teeth distracted from what he was saying. It was either delightful, or disorienting, one never knew.

Hichristy shook her head and smiled a little at the silly effect Eff was capable of having, and how he must thoroughly infuriate everyone else in life he encountered. The gold rhombus diadems hanging from the sashes tied around her thighs clinked gently when she did the smallest thing. A reach above were small white shorts. The top above her bare stomach also had a silken sheen. Actually lovely with her warm brown skin, and without the help of deadly firelight.

Pure white. Dastardly dark. And for some reason, Hichristy felt compelled to have purple hair.

“A millennia-old silent treatment, maybe?” Her brown eyes beneath amethyst brows and all that regal mane now flitted away from his figure.

“Is it?”

“I’m asking you, Eff. Is that what you think it is? Is that how petty you think we are?”

Eff weaved, on reflex, when she came near to him. But Hichristy wanted to walk around the other god, sort of see him fully now that she had the chance. Size him up properly. Their fight down below the tower was truly over, Eff now realized, for her to be so easy with him.

“Good. I’m not hearing any complaints.”

Eff’s tone, gone very rich, sparked interest in Hichristy that she felt sure she would regret. But Hichristy asked him anyway, “…Complaints about what?”

Eff looked down to see what Hichristy was really doing. But Hichristy was shorter and he saw the top of her head, mostly. Then this loving urge to play with the purple puffballs of her hair seized him. Hichristy surely felt him staring and looked up. Eff grinned like a naughty child, caught before he could get up to something. Eff twined the fingers of both hands together tight behind his back instead.

“Hichristy, I’m telling you there’s nothing to complain about, not on my body.”

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