Torian... it's been much longer since I've used him, made him beg or write or cry, seen him kneeling, waiting... much longer than I would like and certainly much longer than he would like.

"There's a woman on the outside
Looking inside
Does she see me?"

...yeah, and bells and slow steady pulse of drums in the background. If you've never read "She" I strongly recommend tracking it down. It's not quite a bdsm classic, but in many ways it's a D/s bit of writing. And it's good. *shrugs*

The sky out of the window is grey, thick with clouds, but backlit by the nearly-setting sun to turn the edges of it into tarnished pewter, gleaming for just these few moments as the light catches it. There are trees etched across it, wide-leafed trees that reach upward in a tangled sprawl of branches, graceful pine trees with enough needles to embroider much of the world, traces of ivy connecting, covering, trailing down the bark to the ground and up into the sky.

Nothing useful to say.