((spin the bottle!)) Rydia shifts, wringing the material of her clothing. The emerald-garbed female looked upward, confidence glimmering upon her ethereal visage, and said simply: "I'm supposed to kiss you, but you have to bend down, first."
—Having become acquainted with the celestial deities that governed Irastellae { and having discovered that they were quite fickle } , the poet reasoned that perhaps it would prove to be advantageous if he complied with whatever it was that they had planned. At least, for now. He had no doubt that the day would come when he would no longer need to serve these metaphysical beings. But, alas, this was not the day. If he recalled correctly, the fourth day of the seventh month marked the apogee of a certain annual festival. He had been informed of the various festivities that would be going on for the entirety of the carnival, but he was not exactly keen about participating. Especially not in spin the bottle. He had been praying { or perhaps pleading } to the Goddess Minerva, hoping that perhaps the orisons would allow him to avoid partaking in the curious activity. Evidently, his prayers had been in vain. Cerulean hues swept over the summoner upon hearing her request. A hiss was suppressed, his digits curling into fists at his sides.
I suppose it can't be helped...
The bard gave a curt nod and leaned over, pausing just before their lips met.He reasoned that he should at least enjoy himself while he was at it The kiss was sensual, though it was far too brief to escalate into anything else. He simpered as he pulled away, looking rather pleased with himself.