Kinky adventurers Ch. 02: Pt. 13

"Can we finally talk about plans now?" Kit asked impatiently. Sixto wiped a bit of grease from his mouth with a cloth then leaned back in his chair, looking satisfied. Ash sat opposite him at the small table, legs crossed casually beneath her long, white dress. Her white eyes betrayed no anxiety, though Kit knew she had been busy most of the day trying to figure out how to rescue Ilya. Sixto had returned to the safe house even later than Ash had, but he had insisted on eating before talking strategy. Good as his word, he had taken his time relishing his sausage, bread, and pickled radish. Kit, meanwhile, had spent the day in the safe house and was the only one of the three who hadn't been busy.

Actually, Kit had been plenty busy—Jessica had made sure of that—it had just been a different kind of 'busy.'

Feeling anxious, guilty, and useless, Kit sat on the edge of the bed, fretting and wishing her colleagues would just tell her what they had been put to already.

"If the hamsters in your head run in circles any louder, I'm going to start hearing them in my head," Sixto said.

"Well if you could eat a little faster, I wouldn't be sitting here wondering," Kit retorted sharply. "Or just talk while eating—how hard is that?"

"I've spent the whole day doing things I detest," Six calmly rejoined. "I owed it to myself to enjoy at least one meal." His tone was grating and insufferable to Kit, who was on the verge of snapping at him when Ash wisely intervened.

"Well, I'm glad you take time for self care," Ash said to Sixto. "We all know if we want to help others we have to take care of ourselves first." She gave Kit a meaningful look. Kit looked back, her gaze quickly melting from irritable to helpless, nervous wreck.

"But now you've had your meal," Ash continued, trying not to let Kit's look pluck her heartstrings too hard, "maybe it's time to talk shop."

"Fair enough," Six replied. "Ash, why don't you go first?"

E: Ingrid, do I sense Sixto is avoiding talking about what he's been up to all day?

I: Great question, Emma. Roll an insight check for me.

E: With pleasure! [Rolls]. 21!

I: Feel free to make a deception check if you'd like, Silus.

S: Also with pleasure! [Rolls]. Oof, dirty 20. You just beat me!

E: Hah! Take that!

I: Silus, is Sixto avoiding talking about what kept him busy all day?

S: You bet your britches he is!

E: Good to know...

Ash looked Sixto in the eye for a moment, then conceded. "If you wish. There isn't that much to tell, in all honesty. I mostly spent the day catching up with old friends. I decided that infiltrating the Syndicate is our only hope of finding out where they're holding Ilya, and the sooner we do that the better. So I asked around for places where Syndicate people like to hang out, thinking I'd try and get myself recruited." Ash paused to inspect her immaculate fingernails, which she painted white to contrast with her charcoal skin.

"And?" Kit prompted. "What did you find?" Ash looked over at her worried friend, unable to resist drawing out her reply just to tease her. Once Kit was literally squirming in discomfort—which frankly didn't take long—Ash answered.

"I discovered a large number of them like to congregate at a bar in Underside."

"Oh, that's great!" Kit exclaimed, eager for good news. Sixto, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow and gave Ash a pointed look, which Kit noticed.

"Don't throw shade, you scoundrel," Ash said, responding to Six's silent criticism. "You probably know as much about what goes on at Forbidden as I do. Don't act like a saint, it doesn't look good on you."

Now Sixto raised both eyebrows and smiled a bit. "And that's about the biggest reaction I've ever gotten out of you, Ashara," he said, clearly impressed. "Sensitive about these particular pleasures, are we?"

"You would be, too," Ash rejoined, "if you had lived the bulk of your adult life on the fringe of polite society." Her words carried the weight of personal experience, but her tone was measured and calm.

"Why?" Kit asked, a naivete in her tone that made Sixto stifle a chuckle and Ash nearly wince. "What's Forbidden?"

In the silence that followed, Ash chose her words carefully while Sixto let her do the explaining, clearly enjoying the moment. Kit looked back and forth between her friends, upset that she alone didn't know. "Look, I'm not from here," she said in frustration. "What is Forbidden and how does it help us find Ilya?"

Finally, Ash spoke. "It's a bar, love." When Kit bristled at being spoken to like a child, Ash got to the point. "It's a BDSM club. One of a few in the city. A bunch of Syndicate enforcers hang out there when they're off duty."

"Oh." Kit stared at Ash, processing this revelation. Ash looked back, carefully reading her reaction. Sixto watched the interplay, and ate bread crumbs off his plate like popcorn. "But I..." Kit began, clearly distracted. "What does this have to do with finding Ilya?"

"I'm going to go there tonight and see if I can catch their attention, make a good impression. Maybe they'll like me enough to offer me a job in their organization."

Kit imagined how her friend might 'impress' a bunch of hardened mafia thugs at a BDSM bar and decided she didn't like it one bit. "What are you going to do?" she practically blurted out, trying to keep her tone neutral and curious but sounding defensive and concerned. Ash gave her a naughty look and cracked a wry smile.

"That, my dear, is a bit above your pay grade at this point."

Kit gave her friend a look that said, "Oh, is that so?" To which Ash replied by breaking into a full-faced smile full of devious intent and delight.

"Oh, get a room, you two!" Sixto moaned. Kit picked up a pillow and threw it at Sixto's head.

"And what have you been up to, my prince charming?" Ash asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Sixto leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"You people are infuriating,," Kit stated in frustration.

"Are we?" Sixto replied, feigning innocence. But seeing Kit's exasperation, he decided not to draw it out any longer. "I've been out rekindling old acquaintances."

"Care to elaborate?" Ash prompted.

"Sure. I have lots of, shall we say, unsavory friends in this city. And some of them in turn have acquaintances within a certain organization we have an interest in penetrating. I've been working those contacts to see if they could hook me up, make an introduction."

Glancing in Kit's direction, Sixto saw her looking at him in surprise. He quickly looked away, feeling a strange mixture of resentment and shame bubble up. He focused his gaze instead on Ash, whose expression mercifully carried no judgment.

"And were you successful?" she asked.

"I was," Sixto replied with a nod at Ash. "I have... an appointment with some folks tomorrow. If it goes well, I might have access to the syndicate compound soon."

Kit looked from one companion to the other, marveling that they both knew how to access the criminal and social underworld of Tristanfell. On her own, Kit would have had no idea where to even start. In all fairness, Ash and Six were from here Tristanfell, while Kit was not. And in all honesty, despite the significant time they had spent together—and the compromising situations they had seen her in—Kit still knew very little about them. Still, Kit found it startling to suddenly discover that the people you've traveled and broken bread with for weeks were at most only a step or two removed from the kidnappers and murderers they were hiding from.

A silence descended that Sixto found rather uncomfortable. Kit was withdrawn and mute; Ash was, as usual, an indecipherable sphinx, the familiar grin playing at the corners of her lips.

"That's wonderful," Ash said at last. "It seems we now have two irons in the fire."

Studiously keeping his gaze away from Kit, Sixto gave another small nod.

"It's a race, then." Ash grinned at her compatriot.

"Indeed. May the best thug win." Sixto's grin was lopsided and playful, but the gesture didn't reach his eyes.

***************************

"Ok, folks," Ingrid announced. "Since it seems you all have decided to split the party."

"Which always goes super well," Silus intoned sagely. Yuna snorted.

"It's not like we have much choice," Emma said. "Kit can't really leave the safehouse without endangering the rest of the party, and Ash and Sixto's contacts are unrelated to each other."

"I'm not throwing shade," said Ingrid. "Splitting the party is totally up to you, and there are definitely circumstances where it's warranted."

"Somehow that still sounds ominous," Sebastian mumbled, provoking a bark of laughter from Silus. Ingrid smirked wickedly.

"In the interest of time, and since Ash will be the only one involved in the BDSM club scene, how do you all feel about describing overall what happens rather than roleplaying the whole thing in detail?" Ingrid looked around at her friends to gauge their reactions, particularly Emma's.

"That sounds fine," she said in her usual, cheery tone. Everyone else nodded along.

"Alright then," Ingrid replied. "Ashara shows up at Forbidden the next evening. What is she wearing, Yuna?"

"Oooh, oooh! I get to choose an outfit?!" Yuna literally bounced up and down on her bean bag chair.

"Within reason," Ingrid responded with a loving roll of her eyes.

"Ok, then let's say Ash goes to a friend's shop and totally custom orders a new outfit. Which I'm happy to pay for," Yuna added after seeing Ingrid's raised eyebrow.

"Ok, tell me what she's buying and I'll tell you if it can be done in time and how much it costs," Ingrid instructed.

"Alright, so it's a high waisted goth dress that laces up below the bust, which is crimson and is made of a separate material than the rest of the dress. The laces and trim are also crimson. The rest of the dress is black, probably cotton. The dress flares out at the hips and isn't particularly long. Oh, and the shoulders are poofy. And it has a black choker with crimson, frilly trim that goes with it."

Yuna's eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the outfit. Ingrid, leaning back against the sofa with an amused expression, waited for a moment. "Is that it?"

"Wait, can I add to it? I was totally holding back because I was worried about going overboard."

"Here we go," Emma murmured sotto voce.

"While we're on the subject, you might as well go for it," Ingrid shrugged.

"Yay! Ok, so Ash is gonna buy a new pair of boots. They're black, made of leather, and have thick soles. Not heels, mind you," Yuna added somewhat defensively, though no one had made a comment. "They're just thick and imposing. And they have metal buckles and straps all over the place. Like, more than any reasonable pair of boots would need."

"How tall are they?" Silus asked, clearly loving this and hoping to keep it going.

"Oh, I forgot to say! Thanks for the reminder, Silus," Yuna responded, prompting a look and a raised eye from Ingrid. "They go all the way up to the knee, so that between the goth dress and the boots you can't really see Ashara's legs.

"Just a lot of black—boots and dress?" Sebastian asked.

"Don't forget the crimson of the laces and bust," Yuna reminded. "Oh, and the dress comes with long, tight-fitting crimson sleeves that end in gloves. And don't forget her white eyes and horns, either. And she's going to paint her nails crimson for the evening, in case the gloves ever come off."

"Now are we finished?" Ingrid prompted.

"Umm..." Yuna thought for a moment, not wanting to leave anything on the table. "Oh, she buys a riding crop. Black, of course. Made of leather."

"Now we're talking!" Silus shouted.

"Alright," Ingrid said, thinking for a bit. "I think we're talking ten gold pieces here."

"Ouch!" Sebastian's reaction mirrored the aghast expressions on his friends' faces. Except Yuna.

"Worth. Every. Copper." Yuna picked up her pencil and marked off ten gold pieces on her character sheet.

"Alright," Ingrid proceeded, "so Ash shows up to Forbidden in this impressive outfit. What's she going for here?"

"She's trying to get the attention of the syndicate crowd. Does she see any?"

"Make a perception check and an insight check for me, then," Ingrid instructed.

Yuna picked up a d20 and bit her lip as she rolled it around in her cupped palm. "Come on, come on, come on," she repeated like a mantra, then tossed the die into the dice tray on the coffee table in front of her.

"17 on perception!" she cried. Then, rolling again, announced, "And a 22 on insight!"

"Dang," said Ingrid. "Those are pretty good rolls. Ash has been to clubs like this a lot; this is definitely not her first rodeo. And she knows how to read this kind of crowd well. Without much trouble she spots a confident-looking crew in one corner, not far from the raised platform/stage along the far wall."

"What's on the platform?" Yuna asked.

"A St. Andrew's cross, a wooden bondage horse, and a bamboo rig for suspension." Without exception, the faces of everyone in the room lit up with excitement. "You also notice a number of anchor points in the ceiling."

"Fantastic," Yuna replied. "Is anything going on at the moment? Any scenes currently happening on stage?"

"Not at the moment."

"Alright. Ash walks up to the stage and inspects it as if to determine if it's good enough for her purposes. She swishes her crop idly as she does this."

"Hot damn," Silus chuckled.

"Does anyone from the syndicate table notice?"

"Make a performance or intimidation check, your choice," Ingrid replied.

"Alright, definitely choosing intimidation here." Yuna rolled again. "Dirty 20!"

"Damn, girl. You're on a roll. Several of them definitely look over with significant interest."

"Perfect," Yuna said. "Ash will take a seat at a table by herself, but ideally not too far from the syndicate group, and wait to see if anyone comes over."

"A couple of them do. Doesn't even take more than a couple minutes. What does Ash do?"

"She's going to play like she's new here and looking for play partners. Does she get any takers?"

"With that intimidation check? Hell yeah. What's she planning?"

"Ash is going to suggest they do a scene tonight."

"What kind of scene?"

"Well, obviously that would be part of a negotiation between her and the interested party. But assuming they're interested, she's going to suggest an impact play scene. She'll strip them down, tie their hands over their head to the suspension rig, and use any impact implements available to go to town on them. She'll also use her magic abilities to intensify the pain at just the right moments and in just the right amounts."

"Hot as fuck," Ingrid replied. "Make a performance check, with advantage."

"Ok, here we go!" exclaimed Silus.

"Don't fuck this up now," Yuna told her d20s as she rolled them into the dice tray. The group leaned in to see the result.

"19!" Yuna cried, clapping her hands enthusiastically.

"Nice, Yuna," Sebastian encouraged. Maybe there's hope for Ilya after all."

"The scene goes off without a hitch. It's super hot and gets the attention of everyone in the place. Afterward, Ash is the hottest item and the syndicate group invites her over to their table. What does she do?"

"She's going to play up the 'new in town' card and ask if anyone's hiring."

"Going straight for it, huh?" Ingrid said, impressed.

"Strike while the iron is hot!" Yuna replied.

"Indeed. Make a persuasion check."

Yuna rolled yet again while everyone in the room held their breath. "14?"

"With how well things have gone so far? That's definitely enough. They seem excited at the prospect of having you around and tell you to come by a particular address the next morning."

"Nice going, Ash," Emma said lovingly, leaning her head on Yuna's shoulder. "You totally killed it."

"Seriously," Ingrid concurred. "That was amazing. In fact, on that positive note, I think we should end for today."

"Awww!" Silus complained. "Things were just getting good!"

"I know, but it's a good stopping point. And besides, we can't get to Sixto's bit until next week because there's a guest player I want to bring along who's going to make an entrance."

"Wait, guest player?" Emma asked, her face lighting up. "Who is it?"

"Yeah," added Silus. "You haven't mentioned a guest player joining us until now."

"I know," Ingrid said as she looked around the room at her friends. "But I promise you'll like them," she added with a mysterious look on her face.

"Them?" Sebastian queried. "Does that mean they're gender queer, or are you just being sneaky and keeping their gender identity secret?"

"I guess you'll just have to wait and find out."

*****************************

Ingrid paced her apartment from one end to the other. To be fair, it wasn't that big of a distance, maye 25 feet at most, but she made the most of it. Social interactions were hard for her, even D&D. This was ironic considering time spent with her friends was essential to her wellbeing and she looked forward to their weekly gatherings for days.

Ingrid heaved a sigh. I guess I'm just fated to be a nervous wreck all the time, she conceded. She saw a therapist regularly for her anxiety and had even taken medication for a while, but though both helped a little neither changed the fundamental reality. Social situations triggered parts of her that worried and fretted and set her stomach churning, almost regardless of how she approached it.

And today was 'special' from a social anxiety perspective, because someone new was joining the group and this put Ingrid in the role of host, introducing and mediating between strangers. Of course, she trusted her friends to be welcoming and enthusiastic, and knew that Hansa was a kind, emotionally intelligent person as well.

But still. Until everyone met and got to know each other and a smooth, comfortable familiarity developed, Ingrid was going to fret. It was just her way.

Ingrid looked at the clock above her oven: 5:44, just one minute until Hansa was supposed to arrive, fifteen minutes early. Ingrid had asked her to come by early so she could warm up to the space, get comfortable, and ask any questions she might have before the rest of the crew arrived. Ingrid circled back to the kitchen table and lightly touched a cookie at the top of the pile on a plate.

Still warm. She breathed out heavily, trying to vent the excess stress. It's gonna be ok.

Just then a soft knock came at the door. Putting on a kind, shy smile Ingrid sprang quickly to the door and opened it. There, in the doorway, looking shy and a little anxious herself, was Hansa.

"Hey Ingrid," she said softly.

"Hansa! I'm so glad to see you." Ingrid didn't wait for Hansa to step in the apartment, opting instead to walk into the hall and wrap her in a warm hug. "Thank you so much for coming," Ingrid said as she pulled away. "I know it's probably a little scary right now."

"A little," Hansa apologized, smiling shyly. "But it's ok, I'm excited."

"I know how you feel. Come on in, I made cookies."

Hansa stepped in, took off her slip on shoes, and followed Ingrid down the short hall into the living room. She was surprised how light it was, evening sun coming through the bank of windows and making the hardwood floors glow.

"Here, take a cookie. I promise, by the time you're finished eating it you'll feel right as rain." Ingrid held out a cookie as Hansa approached. Both giggled at the corny Matrix reference.

"Oh, wow! This is really good, Ingrid. Did you bake these?"

Ingrid smiled and gave a few, quick nods of affirmation. She wasn't one to brag, but her baking was one of her few sources of confidence.