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the-iron-orchid · 1 year

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The Temple Painter no longer goes by xir birth name, as when xe became apprenticed to a painter from the Land of Snows xe was given a new name: Yeshe Dorje, meaning 'Invincible Wisdom'. Xe has been known by this name for the better part of xir life.

The Land of Snows is generally considered to be part of the northern Prakran Empire, residing on a high-elevation plateau that makes the climate much, much colder than its surroundings. Political upheavals and clashes with Prakran rule have sent some of their religious leaders out into the world, where their words and ideas have found traction with spiritual seekers of other cultures. Vesuvia is home to a number of their temples, often admired for the vibrant and complex beauty of their religious artworks.

After spending years as a struggling aspiring artist, making ends meet through various odd jobs, a chance meeting with one of the Temple District artists changed everything for the Temple Painter. The older painter took xem on as an apprentice, passing on what he knew, saying it was xir karma that had brought xem here. Through the merit accrued by creating such art, xe might walk the path to eventual enlightenment.

Merit or no, xe found this structured art form to be most agreeable, and spent over a decade doing nothing but this - painting the deities, decorating statues and lintels and temple walls in vivid colors, even gilding the bodies of temple dancers for performances. It was an austere life, living primarily on temple donations and the odd commission for the long life of a lama or a noble, but was a reliable one.

And then xe came to the attention of Count Lucio.

He had already been reigning in Vesuvia for well over a decade, but it had had little effect on Yeshe's little world in the Temple District. Sometimes, xe had even benefited from his showy donations to the temples (it never hurts to hedge your bets when it comes to the gods, after all).

On this day, xe happened to be working on the image of a deity in embrace with consort, representing the union of Wisdom and Compassion, of the transcendence of dualism. All of the ornaments and painted brocades must be carefully gilded and burnished, and so xe was outdoors, taking advantage of the sunlight to work. The bright colors, quantity of shining gold, and subject matter instantly drew the eye of the Count.

It was well-known that to refuse the honor of the Count's patronage was to invite his particular wrath, and there is no proscription against temple painters taking other commissions for pay - everyone has to eat, after all. And so began the long hours of painting the Count's ridiculous imaginings... and the resulting increase in income. Yeshe gritted xir teeth and ground the pigments and resins and boiled the bone glue, preparing the fine gold paint according to the secret recipe handed down from teacher to student, stretching the canvas with the same care xe used for the images of deities. By dint of the Count's patronage, xe was soon able to purchase an abode for xir parents, and then for xemself, making it all worthwhile.

Xe ultimately contracted the Red Plague near the very end of its rampage through Vesuvia, surviving only because xe was fortunate enough to live slightly longer than Lucio himself did. There are numerous lingering effects on xir body, including chronic joint and muscle pain, crushing fatigue, and the characteristic reddened eyes of a Plague survivor.

Xir paintings now collect dust in the Count's wing of the palace, forgotten, which suits xir just fine. There was, however, one final beneficial side-effect to the Count's patronage: coming to the attention of another member of the nobility, one Evander Murena.

~ MORE SELF-INDULGENT AUTHOR'S NOTES :D

Yeshe ཡེ་ཤེས is the Tibetan equivalent of the Sanskrit word jñāna ज्ञान :) I'm sure you see what I did there lmao

Dorje རྡོ་རྗེ is the equivalent of the Sanskrit vajra, the weapon of Indra. It symbolizes something indestructible like a diamond, a force as irresistible as a thunderbolt, so is generally translated as 'invincible'.

Both of these words are very common given names in Tibet and Bhutan. Yeshe is unisex, Dorje is generally masculine, but as the Temple Painter is nonbinary, both are appropriate (something something transcending duality something)

It's very common upon taking refuge to receive a highly auspicious Dharma name that also contains the name of the lama bestowing it (in this case, Yeshe). It's seen as something to live up to, as well as something that potentially bestows the quality itself.

I haven't received a Dharma name yet, but maybe one day I will!

I did come into thangka painting through a total chance meeting - while attending a meditation class, I saw a flyer for a thangka painting course. It really drew me at a very directionless point in my life (I had just had to stop working due to disability), and my teacher seems to have a lot of faith in my ability... so ten years later, here I am lol

My teacher has passed on a lot of knowledge, including the really traditional stuff like canvas-making, bone-glue paint binder, and the use of natural pigments (something I really want to try my own hand at, but it is both expensive and difficult). For the most part, I just use gouache - though I do make my own gold paint in the old-fashioned way, because there is no real substitute for it.

The main parallel here, of course, is that I myself became disabled after a viral illness years ago - I got very sick one winter, and then I never really got better. Ironically, I'm also prone to periodically having one or both eyes become reddened, painful, and light-sensitive (iritis). Woooo creepy plague-eyes woooo~

#Count Crispies #Evander Murena #it is hilarious to me that my dumb-self-insert has the most interactions with Lucio tbh #Yeshe the temple painter

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the-iron-orchid · 1 year

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A little moodboard for @luasworkshop: The relationship of Evander and Yeshe as Patron and Artist.

(Featuring two makara, the Peacock Wisdom Queen Mahāmāyūrī, and the four-armed emanation of Avalokiteśvara/Chenrezig.)

#evander murena #yeshe the temple painter #oc moodboard

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the-iron-orchid · 1 year

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The novelty of having himself portrayed in the style of an erotic temple painting or wrathful god only lasted so long for Lucio, in his typical fashion. Eventually, more of Yeshe's time went to decorative projects around the Palace in order to please the Countess.

Evander Murena happened upon xem working on precisely this, during one of Lucio's soirees for the nobility. While seeking out Marcus Aquila (who at the time was very young, very new to eir position under the Quaestor, and very stressed), he paused to admire the swirling gilded lotuses Yeshe was painting around the door to one of the many bath chambers of the Palace.

The polite and respectful inquiry from a passing noble rather took xem off-guard. Their conversation ended with an agreement to decorate the bow of Evander's personal watercraft with makara, an auspicious and protective emblem.

Over the course of this, Evander became aware of xir other forms of work, beginning a rather more fulfilling sort of client relationship as Palace demands on xir time began to lessen. In the final year before the Red Plague took hold in the city, xe was largely alternating between xir sacred-art duties and working for Evander - painting doorways, boats, private works, and even the bodies of performers and guests at his exclusive gatherings.

Of course, all of this came to an abrupt halt as the Red Plague rampaged through the city. Yeshe held out longer than most, likely due to the treatments provided by the monks of the temples - over a week. By the end of it, xe was on the brink of death, first delirious, then comatose. Xe then awakened some hours after Lucio's immolation, bewildered and too exhausted to speak... but alive.

Some time after the Plague was confirmed gone from the city, a parcel arrived at Yeshe's residence by private courier, along with a note:

I hope this letter finds you in health. Should you have the inclination, your talents are always welcome. Please accept the enclosed as a token of esteem and a contribution to your work. - Evander

Alongside the note was a carved wooden box, containing small jars of finely ground mineral pigments, and a little enameled container full of a quantity of dun-colored chips, smaller than a pinky nail. Unassuming or even ugly to the uninitiated, these last were in fact a great treasure - pure powdered gold, suspended in drops of binder for safety in travel, imported straight from The Land of Snows. Yeshe was in no shape to make these xirself for some time during xir recovery, but Evander's gift allowed xir to begin painting again, propped up in xir bed.

After a few months, xe was able to be out and about again, albeit with the aid of cane, and wearing smoked glasses to cover xir Plague-scarred eyes. Xe happened upon Heron's booth in the Center City Market, where he donated the magic-imbued necklace that disguises this. In gratitude, xe painted the scarab-and-lotus motifs that decorate the doorways of the eponymous shop. Later, xe was able to make enough money to commission a set of Heron's magically-perfect magnifying lenses to aid xir finer work.

In the present day, xe continues to split xir painting time between the spiritual and the worldly; the one benefits all sentient beings, the other keeps a roof over xir head and food on xir table (and in the bellies of the Temple District's feral cat population).

#Yeshe the temple painter #evander murena

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the-iron-orchid · 2 years

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Your Promise to be Found

Synopsis: Jinana takes up Vissenta on her proposition in the intoxicating atmosphere of Evander's lush garden party. (Sequel to Transfixed By the Inner Sound by @vissentasenadz, ~2400 words.)

Notes: Vissenta belongs to @vissentasenadz and Evander belongs to @luasworkshop ; both appear with permission!

Warnings: D/s dynamic, exhibitionism, bondage, kink furniture, spanking, sex magic, manual stimulation, praise kink, edging, orgasm control, overstimulation. 🔞🍋 MINORS DNI!

---

Jinana Seraphina Aditya, the child of an actor and a dancer, is well-versed in the arts of charm and grace. S/he is an experienced Dom/me, with more than a decade in the role to hir credit… and a powerful sorcerer, with primal magics at hir command.

These qualities come to hir aid during Evander’s social functions, where the rich and powerful of very singular tastes mingle. Despite hir own more humble origins, these things lend hir an air of such unassailable poise that even the most supercilious of nobles restrain their sneers in hir presence.

Vissenta has shattered that poise with a single question.

What if you tied me up?

For a brief instant, Jinana can only stare at her in naked astonishment. Then s/he smiles, assuming hir rôle like a cloak, covering over hir surprise even as hir hindsight tallies a hundred little clues previously dismissed.

“If that is what you want.”

Vissenta takes a deep breath (appealingly dangerous in this gown) and nods firmly. “I do. Call it… a new experience.”

“Then I would be most honored. Come with me.” Already hir voice has slipped into the mode of velvet command, extending hir ringed, hennaed hand. Vis takes it, and Jinana leads her back through the gardens. The change in their manner alone draws eyes from the other guests as they pass; in this crowd, the exchange of personal power is a palpable thing.

S/he seeks out Evander, resplendent yet restrained in his costume. His mask is fashioned after a carved marble statue, primeval with mosses and cracked with age, the face of a forgotten god. His skin has been painted to continue the illusion; the powerful build of his upper body and even the truncation of his lower limbs only adds to the statuary effect.

The metaphor, s/he is sure, is lost on no-one.

He evinces no surprise, but s/he can tell that hir request pleases him, that his eyes will be upon them for this scene. A wave of his hand summons some of the small army of aides whose sole task is to ensure that every player has what is needed.

As the setting is prepared, Jinana converses with Vissenta in low tones, setting the boundaries of this scene. Practiced, s/he knows how to make this negotiation part of the anticipation, rather than a delay, like the selection of choice morsels from a feast. Shall I do this, or this? Speak your wants, your desires, that I may grant them… if you are good. Hir fingertips trace lightly and decorously over Vissenta’s hands as they speak, maintaining that critical contact, the connection.

The flush on Vissenta’s face and bosom deepens just a little with each choice she makes, each admission of a want. Jinana gives a small nod and smile of approval with each, underscoring that this is a place where it is not only safe, but expected to air such things. These wants exist only within this careful container of fantasy and beauty, like a dream, without consequence.

All the same, she has the power to exit this world at any moment, simply by speaking a word of her choosing.

“Roulette,” Vissenta says, with the inflection of her homeland and a curving of her lips. Taking her meaning, Jinana smiles.

The special bench Jinana has requested is both sturdy and beautiful, adorned with elegant gilded scrollwork and immaculate white leather cushioning, clearly purpose-built. It rests upon a sort of marble dais, backed by lush flowering plants and a spray of gleaming peacock feathers arranged in a tall vase.

“Only the best,” Jinana murmurs into Vissenta’s ear, leading her up onto the dais. Witnessing this, a number of interested parties have begun to assemble, curious. Jinana recognizes some of them, regular observers of hir work.

These avid faces are the last thing that Vissenta sees as Jinana ties the silk blindfold over her eyes, then places hir hands on her shoulders.

“Let us begin,” s/he says softly, defining the threshold. An aide hands hir a bundle of fresh silk cording, then respectfully withdraws.

Jinana measures the cording against Vissenta’s body, noting where to create the magically-infused knots. S/he knows that Vis can hear hir speaking the words, that she can no doubt feel the slight change in the magical currents as the energy is imbued… and the alteration that s/he has made to the spell. Will she know what it means?

“It would be such a shame to damage this,” s/he adds, moving to unfasten the bodice, freeing Vissenta’s body from the gown.

Vis is not shy, and bathing is so routinely a shared activity in Vesuvia. Jinana can’t say that s/he’s never looked. But here and now, it is a different matter - the body as something to be shown, an altar of interpersonal sorcery. Her posture is very straight, as proud as ever, her chin still with that slight imperious lift to it, even blindfolded.

The cords wind around and around, assisted by Jinana's own magic, well-practiced. There is an undeniable thrill in the way that Vis responds so readily to hir instructions to lift her arms, to place them together before her, to stand with her legs apart.

Soon, a harness of shimmering jewel-hued silk wraps around Vissenta’s curves, framing her breasts, with charged knots snugged just beneath the perked nipples with their golden jewelry. The cording winds over her hips and between her ample buttocks, pressing aesthetically into the soft flesh, leading in turn to another strategically placed and magically-charged knot.

Vissenta quietly sucks in her breath when Jinana activates the magic stored in the cording - then gives an equally-quiet ‘oh’ when she realizes what has been done to it.

The knots situated against her nipples and over her clit grow chill, then warm, then thrum gently for a few moments, before starting the process all over again.

“Do you like that?” Jinana asks, though s/he knows the answer.

“Oh, yes.”

“Good. Let us continue.”

S/he leads Vissenta the short steps to the ornate bench, telling her to lean forward. But here she balks - perhaps understandable, given her lack of sight, and the vulnerability of being bent over a piece of furniture.

“I’ve got you,” Jinana says, shading hir voice with warmth beneath the air of command. “Follow my hands.” The pressure of hir palms guides Vissenta’s body, firm but not overly forceful, and she relents, letting herself be eased into place.

Jinana ensures that she settles comfortably against the padded cushions, securing her bound wrists to the frame, spreading her legs just a little more before securing her ankles in turn. S/he then runs hir hand down Vissenta’s spine, over the bonds. “Good girl.” Though Vis’ face remains impassive, Jinana is surprised to feel a light shiver go through her body, and makes a mental note of it. The caress continues down over Vissenta’s backside, ending in a light, playful slap. The impact makes for a delightful jiggling ripple, and s/he repeats it for the other side.

Vis turns her head, as if trying to sense the next move. “Ah ah,” Jinana admonishes. “Stay turned toward your admirers, let them see your pretty face.” Once again, Vissenta complies.

Slowly, Jinana builds up a rhythm - it’s not enough to truly cause pain, just enough to tingle, to tease, to bring the blood to the area. Vissenta has a very fine set of buttocks, and the way they bounce and pinken as they’re spanked makes for quite a show. (Indeed, while some patrons are focused on her face and breasts, others have discreetly moved to get a better view of her backside during these ministrations. At least one produces a lorgnette.)

A complex dance takes shape, Jinana’s hands moving over Vissenta’s body to play her like an instrument. S/he notes what draws a reaction, and where; s/he magically modulates the intensity of the sensations that the imbued knots provide, moves them with little tugs of the cording. S/he allows Vis’ backside a brief respite from the spanking, only to return.

For her part, Vissenta puts up a good front, a stoic air - but to someone of Jinana’s experience, every little twitch and tensed muscle and nuance of the flush under her skin speaks to hir.

“Tell me, lovely, how are you feeling?” s/he purrs, more to engage Vis' mind into the scene than because s/he truly needs such feedback.

“I can take more,” Vissenta says, her voice exaggeratedly calm, at odds with the growing tension in her body. Jinana laughs lightly.

“Oh, I’m certain you can. But I’m not done here just yet.”

Bent over, thighs apart, the dark curls of her groin cannot conceal the response of her body. The cording frames her vulva, too, plump and rosy with arousal, vulnerable to the tugging of the cords as well as the sensations of the charged knot.

Vissenta’s breathing, however, remains controlled, slow, deep and steady, an interesting form of resistance. But Jinana does not expect her to go under tonight, to that place where the mind lets go of its restless chatter, subsumed by the body and set free. (Or so s/he is told; it is a place s/he hirself simply cannot go.)

Even so, Jinana always gives of hir best.

S/he excites and s/he soothes, bringing Vissenta closer and closer to release with each wave, before drawing her back once more. Vissenta finally gives a slight groan of deprivation, her thighs beginning to tremble, bowing her head as if to hide her need. Jinana takes a firm grip on her coiled braid, tipping her head back to the view of their audience, while the other hand administers more of those quick, light slaps that set her ass to bouncing so appealingly. But before the accumulated strikes can tip over into more than a light stinging, s/he once again runs hir hand up and down Vis’ spine in a slow, soothing motion. “You’re doing so good for me, lovely. Are you sure it’s your first time? You take it so well.” S/he punctuates this with more playful slaps and a low chuckle. “My good, good girl.”

S/he once again feels that shiver travel down Vissenta’s body, more strongly this time - then she relaxes under Jinana’s hands in a subtle, curious, but unmistakable way.

Surrender.

Unexpected or not, Jinana knows just what to do. S/he continues the dance, building it up again, and now Vis’ energy is purely feeling - no longer analyzing, no longer resisting at all. Her body undulates gently against the padded bench, her lips parted on her sighs and little sounds of pleasure as the magic-wrought cords and Jinana’s own magician’s fingertips do their work. Tingling sparks of energy add an additional thrill when s/he tweaks Vissenta’s nipples or caresses her swollen clit, in between more smart little slaps to her buttocks. Vis doesn’t strain or try to press herself to the touch; she simply takes what is being given, more and more, a chalice poured full to brimming.

This time, when it all threatens to overspill, Jinana does not draw it back, but bends to speak low into Vissenta’s ear: “Now, beautiful. Be a good girl and come for me.” The shiver becomes stronger, her back arching, quickly cresting over into ecstatic, shuddering climax. Her hands clench convulsively where they are bound, her hips pressing into the bench, half-formed words spilling nonsensically from her lips.

But that is not the end of it. Jinana increases the sensations s/he is providing, with no respite, and in this receptive state it doesn’t take long for a second orgasm to follow on the heels of the first… and then a third, wrenching in its strength, forcing guttural cries from her throat as her body twists helplessly in long spasms of agonized pleasure.

Only then does Jinana allow her to start returning to earth, running light and soothing hands over Vissenta’s flushed and sweat-sheened body. She is slack against the bench, breathing harshly and deeply, like a runner.

“Come back, sweet girl,” Jinana murmurs, slowly beginning to undo the bonds - s/he could cause them all to fall away in a single snap of hir fingers, but s/he senses that the little ritual of patiently unknotting the cords will do more to help ground Vissenta after this experience.

The blindfold is removed last, just as it was placed first. Vis’ makeup is hopelessly smudged, her eyes the yellow-green of a cat’s as they slowly open under the moody magical illumination.

“I’ll help you rise, when you’re ready,” Jinana says quietly. “Take your time.” S/he pushes a few tendrils of loose hair back from Vissenta’s face with a smile. “You did wonderfully well.”

An attendant brings a plush robe, and Jinana assists Vis to get into it and rise from the bench. Her legs are a little unsteady, but she isn’t much taller than Jinana hirself; s/he can support her the short distance to the little aftercare pavilion that has been set up to receive them.

Every detail of this small retreat has been chosen to create a pleasant, inviting atmosphere in which to recover - private, cozy, dimly lit and faintly scented with incense. There are carafes of iced water and cold juices to hand, a selection of cut fruits and finger foods. Jinana eases Vis down to recline against the welcoming pile of cushions. She gives a faint protest, attempting to rise as Jinana pours water for them both.

“Ah.” Jinana holds up an admonishing finger. “I want you to relax.” Hir voice retains its authoritative tone, and Vis immediately acquiesces, accepting the goblet. She takes a sip, then thirstily drains the cup. Jinana follows it with a restorative serving of sweet fruit juice, the essence of berries and pomegranates.

“You are still one foot in the place of dreams,” s/he says, smiling. “Take all the time you need. I will watch over you.” S/he seats hirself close by, and Vissenta allows hir to draw her down, pillowing her head in Jinana’s lap. S/he takes a rosewater-scented cloth from the thoughtfully-provided tray, gently wiping the ruined makeup from Vis’ face.

“Thank you for trusting me,” s/he says, smiling down at her. “Now let me bring you back home.”

#SWITCH! 👏🏻 THAT! 👏🏻 TOP! 👏🏻#Sinday Sunday Double Feature~#The Wheel of Life and Death #Jissana #jinana aditya #vissenta senadz #Evander murena #lemon #jenjamin's writing tag #smuts!

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the-iron-orchid · 1 year

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Evander ⬅🍑 to receive a pinch on the bottom from Jinana. (Why not, I'll allow it - it's funny.)

[ V-Day Asks ]

(Grab-ass time, time for grab-ass)

Jinana rests against the side of the tiled pool, watching as Evander glides across the water's surface with strong, efficient strokes of his arms. The muscles of his back flex and bunch under sun-browned skin, sparkling with water-drops. The sleek sharklike mer-tail he wears undulates behind him in a pleasing, realistic fashion; his costumers have outdone themselves with their latest creation.

As he goes by for another lap, Jinana finds hirself unable to resist the impulse to reach out and visit a sharp little pinch upon the nearest buttock. S/he feels him tense slightly in surprise before a single, powerful movement brings him round to face hir, one brow quirked questioningly.

Jinana grins, unrepentant. "Just checking the fit, my dear. You complained about the last one, erm, wedging itself right up there." S/he laughs. "This one seems to fit much better."

For an answer, s/he is abruptly dragged back into the water with a startled squeak, as Evander's newest mer-creature persona claims his first victim.

#V-Day Mail Bag #<- tag for all of these if you wish to follow or filter!#thanks for sending in!#ask memes answered #Evander Murena #Jinana aditya #Evander is literally the only person who would dare I think lmao #top on top violence

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the-iron-orchid · 1 year

Note

From Twenty-Four Touches: "A casual touch on the shoulder to acknowledge them" for Jinana and Evander?

(Let us go back in time a bit, to Jinana as a young domling in hir 20s, literally learning the ropes...)

---

There is no room for nervousness, not in the moment. Evander's gatherings move like a well-oiled machine, despite the relaxed atmosphere - in fact, this is what allows for it. And Jinana knows that s/he has been an apt pupil; the proof hangs suspended before hir now. Other guests have come to observe, murmuring softly as they admire the scene, the most challenging s/he has ever done.

Liliana's alabaster skin almost glows under the lamplights, in stark contrast to the cords of deep fuchsia silk that cross over it in a complex harness of symmetrical knots. Her body forms a graceful arch, arms lifted, suspended like a dancer. She is a living display, a thing of fragile, momentary beauty - even the most enduring submissive can only take so much suspension safely. But even when removed, the cords will leave another sort of temporary beauty, in the form of the marks imprinted on her skin.

There is no room for nervousness, but all the same, Jinana feels a little stab of anticipation as Evander's wheeled chair comes round and alongside hir.

He cannot smile, not in the way that most would recognize. But the corners of Evander's eyes crinkle faintly above his half-mask, and his hand rests briefly on hir shoulder. S/he nods in acknowledgement, pleased by his pleasure in hir work. For all of the ease between them, still s/he looks up to him as a mentor in these arts, and his approval warms hir.

S/he then unhooks the flogger of soft suede from hir belt, stepping close to Liliana before running the tails ticklishly over her flank. Jinana smiles as the lovely submissive gives a muffled little sound, anticipating the next stage of their scene.

#Jenjamin's writing tag #spicy #kink cw #Liliana Conte #Evander Murena #Jinana Aditya

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the-iron-orchid · 2 years

Note

🎁 ~ Evander arrives in a much more timely fashion, moving better this year and after a friendly greeting and warm birthday wishes, offers a silvery paper box, neatly wrapped and tastefully coordinated with a warning of "I'm honestly not quite sure what all it does, I'm not sure it's practical or body safe, but I hope you'll at least find it entertaining. I'm told it was 'banned from the races' so to speak." (Lua, who didn't mean to be listening, winces slightly, making Aleis cackle.)

Jinana peers down into the box, hir brows climbing as s/he does so. S/he removes the item from the wrapping and examines it, then sets it down on the inlaid table, pressing a tiny switch. The thing promptly beings to gyrate in a rather alarming fashion, before tipping over, still flailing wildly. After a moment, it seems to transform, two sections separating but still joined, each apparently with its own entirely unique method of locomotion.

The final result is that it trundles in an energetic circle around the table, somersaulting end over end.

"My goodness, what am I missing?" Nadia has appeared at the gathering, smiling at Evander over Jinana's head. The latter is currently helpless with mirth, shoulders shaking, pointing wordlessly at the whirring, flopping, still-gyrating object on the table. "Oh, I see that The Races have spurred the creation of some... unique items this year." Her own lips curl with amusement.

#JInana's birthday shenanigans #thanks for sending in! <3 #Evander Murena #Lua the shifter #aleis the storm mage #featherwurm

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the-iron-orchid · 2 years

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Think About It

Characters: Jinana Aditya, Vissenta Senadz, Evander Murena (mentioned)

Summary: Jinana and Vissenta talk a little spicy shop during a henna session, leading to a special invitation. (Inspired by this artwork!) ~1080 words

Warnings: Mild kink talk, mostly about magical bondage. PG-13

Notes: Vissenta belongs to @vissentasenadz and Evander to @luasworkshop; both appear with permission!

---

The shop is closed for the evening, quiet but for the soft strains of music that emanate from a little carved box, and Anjali’s soft snoring. Jinana and Vissenta rest comfortably on silk cushions at the low table, under which the sand lynx is sleeping.

The table looks impressively magical, the inlaid gemstones and golden runes so perfectly flush that it is impossible to feel any seams at all. Once a triumph of the Transmuter’s art, it is now merely a decorative relic, a place to drink tea, to read and to work.

It currently holds empty takeout boxes and the paraphernalia of mehndi; the scent of prepared henna and spice oils rises around them. Each of Vissenta’s fingertips has been carefully coated in the dark green substance, just as carefully held above the polished surface of the table.

“That will protect your fingertips when you’re doing your needlework; the rest is just for fun.” Jinana smiles, leaning in once again with the little paper cone of henna paste. Vissenta seems to be rather absorbed in observing the process, the steady rhythm as Jinana draws out a bracelet of henna, expanding the design over the back of the hand and the forearm.

S/he notes that Vis is holding her hand rather tensely, uncomfortably, and s/he lifts the cone away. “Go ahead and stretch your hands a little, let them relax,” s/he instructs. “Your fingertips are dry enough to rest on the table now.”

Vis gives a little sigh of relief, stretching her fingers, careful not to disturb the design.

“There you go.” Jinana catches the warm, approving tone in hir own voice, not far off from the one s/he uses when bestowing a dollop of praise.

Some habits die hard.

“Did you know,” s/he adds, “not only can you draw sigils and such on the body with mehndi - you can imbue the henna itself with magic. It’s temporary, of course, but you can place protections, enhance a quality, even give the ability to cast a small spell. My favorite, though, is adding little cosmetic effects. I’ll show you.”

Jinana adds a few final flourishes - lacy designs, little rings of henna over the fingers - then sends hir magical helping hand to retrieve a small box inlaid with mother-of-pearl from a shelf behind the shop counter. Opening it reveals a number of cork-stoppered vials in individual compartments.

“Gemstone dusts,” s/he explains, taking out a tube of blue-green powder. S/he sprinkles a pinch of the stuff over the fresh henna paste, murmuring a few words under hir breath; the powder attracts itself to the paste like filings to a magnet, glowing briefly before seemingly vanishing.

Vissenta frowns slightly. “What does it do?”

“This.” Jinana touches the drying paste very lightly, and little trails of rainbow color expand from the point of contact, like ripples in a pond. “It will last for a day or two, even after you remove the paste - wonderful for special occasions, so to speak.” S/he arches hir brows meaningfully, and Vis laughs.

“I can imagine.” Their conversations, after all, do not shy away from their shared proclivities.”Every time they move against the bindings… or receive an impact…”

“Exactly.” Jinana grins broadly. “It’s quite a show.”

Vissenta gives a thoughtful look, lifting a hand as if to tap a finger against her chin before looking at the henna paste and thinking better of it. “Speaking of enchantments… you’ve told me about using magic to assist in the rigging, but what about enchanting the cords themselves, say for sensation play?”

Jinana lifts hir brows. “Oh?” S/he leans in, with a conspiratorial air. “You have my attention.”

S/he listens while the henna dries, and Vis elaborates on the ways that magic can be knotted into cords - particularly those of silk, which conducts energy well - for the express purpose of inflicting sensation on the one bound with them. It takes a high degree of skill, as the enchanted knots must be placed before the cording is used to bind. But once in place, they can be used to change the temperature, texture, tightness, visuals, and other qualities of the cording.

Jinana absorbs all of this with rapt attention, while Anjali grumbles, rolls over and snuffles at their feet before falling asleep again.

“I am definitely going to have to learn how to do this.” S/he reaches for a dish of clear liquid that smells of lemon and lavender. “Your hands again, please - we need to seal the henna.” S/he dips a bit of cotton wadding into the sugar solution, dabbing it very gently onto the dried paste. With each dab, the designs once again send out brief waves of color.

“You know,” s/he continues, “there’s a special event coming up - do you know Evander Murena?”

Vis blinks. “I’ve heard of him. Who hasn’t?”

Jinana gives a secretive little smile. “It isn’t well known but… he was my mentor, back when I was young and just learning that I like to dominate.”

Vissenta’s lips tug to one side. “That explains a few things.”

Jinana laughs. “Doesn’t it just? Evander isn’t a magician himself, but he does make use of it in his scenes - and I think he’d be very interested in seeing the kind of magic you describe. If you’re willing to show it off, that is.”

A hint of color has come into Vis’s cheeks, perhaps at the thought of performing this trick in front of an audience of Vesuvia’s kinkiest nobles. “His events are very… exclusive, aren’t they?”

“They are. But I get a plus-one, for old times’ sake.” Jinana drops a small wink. “His tastes are a bit more… extravagant than mine, but I very much enjoy working with him. The theme of the next event is The Peacock Garden - he does love his peacocks. They are beautiful, the awful screeching things.”

“Beautiful idiots,” Vis agrees. “I assume there’s some sort of dress code?”

“Oh yes, but we can help you with that. It will be fun.”

“We?”

“Heron and I, mostly. But Evander is always happy to provide coordinating items, he’s very invested in setting the stage, as it were. No pressure - I just think you would enjoy the event, and Evander would enjoy seeing a demonstration.”

“When does this happen?” The light of curiosity glimmers in Vis’ green eyes now, as Jinana had suspected it might.

“About ten days’ time. Just think about it.”

“Oh, I am.”

#Jenjamin's writing tag #jinana aditya #Evander Murena #vissenta senadz

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the-iron-orchid · 1 year

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Me, working on the Evander model: Making middle-aged people is so much fun. I'm only making people over 40 from now on. Better yet, over 50.

Sadly The Crab Chair™ is rather beyond my abilities atm

#I get to give him grey hairs and crows' feet and everything #plus of course he gets some custom work because he uh. Has no legs #found some sick-ass prosthesis assets I can use too #Evander Murena #the life of a 3d artist

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the-iron-orchid · 1 year

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Name: Yeshe Dorje (Dharma name, birth name unknown) Pronouns: Xe/xem/xir, will accept they/them Gender: Agender Age: mid-40s Occupation: Temple painter, decorative painter for hire Nationality: Vesuvian-born, of mixed Nopalese origin Favorite Food: Veggie masala with akki roti Favorite drinks: Mango lassi, butter tea Favorite Animal: Cats Favorite Color: Ultramarine Favorite Flower: Carnation Major Arcanum: The Moon Minor Arcanum: Knight of Cups

Fun Facts:

Xir family came to Vesuvia a few generations ago from the Nopal region, intermarrying with locals and other ex-pats, creating an extensively mixed bloodline.

Feeds the feral cats around the Temple District and lets them wander in and out of xir flat, ostensibly to keep mice from gnawing on xir paints and brushes.

Suffers a number of post-Plague complications, including fatigue, joint pain and dizzy spells that require xem to use a cane for safety. Wears an enchanted necklace made by Heron to disguise xir Plague-scarred eyes. Wears loose, soft clothing due to lingering skin sensitivity issues. Needs glasses for close work thanks to age and Plague damage.

Kind of lives on butter tea, especially when working on an emergency devotional painting for an ill or dying person (which traditionally must be completed within 24 hours of beginning it).

Is a practitioner of the Diamond Path, which makes xir works more spiritually valuable, but not an ordained monk.

Regularly has henna applied to fingertips and feet to protect the skin from cracking.

Likely to have a paintbrush stuck in xir hair to keep it back, then to forget where the paintbrush is.

Associates:

Coral, The Cheesemonger (friend and artistic associate)

The Brewer (friend)

The Bouncer (QPP and flatmate)

Heron Phan (goods supplier)

Jinana Aditya (goods supplier)

Evander Murena (patron)

Count Lucio (former patron)

Nadia Satrinava (former patron)

Countless feral cats of the Temple District

More TBD!

Quotes:

"i have seen far more of the Count's taint than I ever wanted to, which was zero. Sadly, life in Samsara is suffering."

"Sometimes wrathful action is the better part of compassion, and I'm about to get real compassionate."

(in the presence of demons) "Om Vajrapani Hum PHAT get the fuck outta here!"

"I didn't survive the Red Plague just to get taken out by questionable barbecued eel skewers."

#Yeshe the temple painter #my art #character ref

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luasworkshop · 1 year

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(Cribbing this format for my Arcana self-insert from Yeshe @the-iron-orchid)

Name: Coral Alice McCarty

Pronouns: She/Her will have to do

Gender: Uh. Hm.

Age: Late-30s

Occupation: Cheesemonger by day, artist by night, dreams of little fishes

Nationality: A mess, just Vesuvian for sake of ease

Favorite Food: Fried Shrimp

Favorite Drink: Cucumber Melon Soda

Favorite Animal: MANY (but especially cats, sharks, marine isopods, birds, hagfish, octopus, horses, bees, snakes...)

Favorite Color: Green

Favorite Flower: Wysteria

Major Arcanum: Justice (how’s that neurodivesity workin’ for you, buddy.)

Minor Arcanum: Queen of Wands

Fun Facts:

Managed to avoid the plague, but suffered not one but two major medical crises during it. Survived ok, but feels real REAL weird about it.

Is reasonably artistically skilled, but struggles making a living at it due to just… not having any concentration for any one thing or another. Keeps at it for fun and occasional profit but without consistency. Jack of all trades, master of none, but still better than a master of one. Has done some real weird/cool commissions.

Would have liked a scientific career, but further education was a bit of a disaster and it’s too much to try again (mentally, emotionally, financially.)

Knows a lot about food, theater, art, architecture, animals, the ocean, and won’t shut up once going. Can come across opinionated or bossy but is usually just excited and eager to share.

Fell into chesemongering by chance, but enjoys it and keeps it up in lieu of many many other things that haven’t played out. It works, it’s fun, it’ll do. Makes a great shark coochie board.

Owns a storefront but doesn't manage or run it – focuses on buying and supplying and being the ‘face’ for large suppliers and buyers and deals with catering and party planning, but does step in to do anything else in a pinch. Didn’t found the business either – took over from previous owners by chance (just worked up the ladder,) which is why management is it’s own hired entity.

Parents are still around and live close to the border of the Catclaw Desert North of Vesuvia, near the ocean, but aren’t from there. Both spent years working in Prakra as architects (although they aren’t natives there either.) Massive inferiority complex next to parents who are loving but distant.

Needs glasses to see distance, and to see in dark situations.

Associates:

The Brewer (Husband and Closest Friend)

Yeshe, The Temple Painter (Friend and Conspirator)

The Bouncer (Friend)

Lua & Aleis (Friends, Buyers)

Asra Alnazar (Buyer)

Count Lucio (Frequent Buyer and Occasional Arts Patron, Unfortunately)

Nadia Satrinava (Frequent & Bulk Buyer)

Evander Murena (Frequent & Bulk Buyer)

Aiello Family (Antony’s Family – Suppliers (Dried Fruit, Nuts, etc.))

Conti Estate (Liliana’s Family – Buyers)

Valerius’ Estate (Bulk Buyer)

More TBD!

Quotes:

“What are you gonna do? Get a horrible butt disease???”

“There’s some people who don’t like spiders who like other things...”

“Cheese isn’t lube.”

#Not really married to the name yet #Still feeling this idea out #But I want to play too!#Coral #Self-Insert #Cheesemonger #I know the glasses look too modern #might fix that in another pass

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