[Event | Open, forthelulz] Arabian Nights, anyone?
[The key, held between two string-callused fingers, winked with a big of magic and promised something sensually entertaining and exotic and most decidedly nothing to do the mission he'd been sent on, and was now pointedly skirting.
...it was much more promising of a little thing than the Olympus Stone, for starters.
And when he stepped into the comfy room of veiled draperies, plush persian rugs and golden-threaded cushions, to find himself quite suddenly out of uniform and in a fez-vest combo more suited for Agrabah?
Well gee. This was gonna be a fun getaway? Hot, balmy and dry enough to work up a good sweat. Was it really a room in here, or just in inside of a caravan tent. Now to kill a few hours, and come up with a decent 'Why I was yet again unsuccessful' excuse.
Lazy music, suited to this kind of wafted in on the baked desert air, along with heavy, heady incense. It reminded him of his best sitar songs, when he was playing seriously...in the old style of a mysterious, traditional meandering drone.
Demyx discovered a tray of figs and sweet grapes by the large water pipe, and soon was lounging carelessly across the pillows, blowing vaporous perfumed smoke rings and bubbles to amuse himself.]
[ooc:Oh geez I haven't written smutty Demyx in forever, but lets give this whim-whirl a go. Forgive me, people. Oh, and uh...no Marina canon on this one.]