The Written Tapestry

Despite its abandoned appearance, the ruins held more than just the rumour of great treasure. All manner of creature had been said to have moved in to the ancient depths of the temple, making themselves right at home among the twisting corridors, flooded chambers, and deadly traps. All were warned to steer clear of this relic of another age, but the thrill of adventure still called to a small handful of fortune seekers. And so it lays, crowned by that ominous, beckoning maw, a guaranteed descent into madness.

Crouched low to the ground, a leather-clad figure gazed up at the ruins with tightly knit brows. Long feminine ears twitched subtlely at any minor noise from the surrounding area, luminous gaze narrowed at what lay ahead. Meticulously scanning, long moments of stillness passed before the decidedly feminine visage surged forward in that same crouched state, every step seemingly planned to avoid the movement of rocks or snapping of twigs. Pressing in close to a tree suddenly, those eyes moved again to search what area they'd been able to witness from their former position.

The grounds of the temple were silent. Eerily so, since the jungle had, until reaching it, been filled with the sounds of life. Here, no bird called, no rodent rustled through the underbrush... Lining what had once been a wide causeway leading directly to the foot of the stairs, large stone basins, perhaps one braziers, rested in various degress of decay, some cracked nearly in half, several filled with deep pools of fetid water several feet across. Whoever had built this temple had intended it to be a glorious monument to some god or another, and spared no expense in its creation. And yet, for all its silence, or perhaps because of it, that shadowy figure would not be able to shake the feeling of being watched.

Beneathe a hood and mask, the delicate slant of a nose wrinkled as those eyes narrowed further at the path ahead. Gloved hands balled into fists, relaxed, and repeated the process twice over before unsheathing two blades from the back of the belt lining the curvature of a lady's hips. Another moment of silent waiting, and she surged forward again. Certainly, she would not be disturbed. No one else was out of their mind enough to come here. These were the thoughts in her mind as she climbed steadily up the decayed stone steps, feet carefully placed should something decide to give way.

Somehow, the steps seemed in better repair than the rest of the temple, with only a light layer of dust making progress even the slightest bit treacherous. It was almost as if, after everything, the temple welcomed those who tried to enter it. At least, for now. Upon reaching the opening at the top, the scale of this temple started to become apparent. The doorway, which had seemed naught but a black, gaping maw, was nearly 12 feet wide, and half again as tall. Steps led down into the interior of the ruins, again in remarkably good condition, though devoid of any tracks or disturbance. And down, way down, at the end of what appeared to be a simple long corridor, an unnatural light flickered against the wall, eerily silent.

Pausing the take in the interior once inside, she seemed to revel very little in the structure and it's contents. Something in her eyes spoke of needing only one thing. This one was a treasure hunter. One blade was slid back into it's sheathe as she started forward slowly, her gaze seeking triggers and traps. It was never as simple as walking in and taking what she wanted. Catching a glimpse of the unnatural light at the end of the long corridor ahead, her eyes narrowed once more. Blade at the ready, she continued toward the corridor, gaze ever shifting, watching for signs of trouble.

There were signs of traps alright, however they had already long been discovered. Opened pits, with spikes below - a short drop with a quick end, several skeletons already resting in their jagged embrace. Some still even wore their armor, as no one had tried to remove it yet, though it didn't look like it would have been too hard to do if necessary. A section of ceiling had fallen, a nice, square block, obviously another trap, with one boned arm sticking from beneath it. Approaching that light would reveal that four more steps led down into a chamber, and that it wasn't the -only- light. A small pool of daylight shone down near the far end of the room, obviously open to the sky above. The light streamed down before an elaborate door, a metallic grate in the floor providing drainage for whatever rain would have fallen. The eerie light came from glowing orbs along the walls, obvious magical in nature, but seeming harmless. The sort of thing any wielder of magic would consider using to try and intimidate the less knowlegable.

Her steady pace stopped at the edge of the first pit, her gaze sinking downward toward those that had fallen victim to it's jagged depths. Each trap that had already been activated was given a long look as she treaded carefully onward. Several had been set off, it didn't mean there weren't more waiting for her to slip. Sliding passed them, she paused once more to look on at what lay just down the steps. When finally she started forward, her feet were more carefully placed, her movements almost too slow to be considered moving. Blade at the ready, her head whipped from side to side, watching for something more to trigger.

A more careful scan of the room would reveal why so many met their match. The door, that heavy stone bastion of defense, was carved with worn symbols and glyphs of another time and age. And in the center lay what was most obviously a keyhole. Seemingly undisturbed for quite some time, it was surely an elaborate locking mechanism that few held the skill to best. Thankfully, it was not raining, 'else the rain falling upon the grate before the door would have made working conditions unpleasant at best - perhaps, sadly, one of the largest deterrents for most who had tried.

Continuing slowly down the stairs, she finally came to a stop at the last step. The first sound uttered was a sigh. Unamusement showed in the piercing blue gaze as she took in the obviously less than physical design of how exactly this door worked. Glyphs and symbols, strange lights. These were a few of her least favorite things. Lifting the leather mask that concealed her lips, she set her blade between her teeth and reached to her belt for her lock picking kit, starting forward again toward the door. Fireballs and frost bolts be damned, she was not coming out of this temple empty handed.

The glyphs on the door appeared, upon nearing them, only to be the faded words of a civilization long dead. There seemed to be no sign of any traps, merely that infuriating lock that had sent so many packing. As she had taken her sweet ass time getting to this point, the sun had shifted in the sky, the beam of light angled more towards the door, almost shining at the keyhole directly. The grate before it, somehow, was not rusted. The bars were sturdy and would easily support her weight, and much more if necessary, with holes in the criss-crossing steel about an inch and a half, two inches wide. The sound of water dripping far below could faintly be heard, though with the shifted light it was impossible to see into the black depths.

She came to an abrupt halt when the glyphs shined suddenly, tense and ready to bolt should the need arise. When nothing more happened, she relaxed and started onto the grate, feet placed even more carefully than before as she crossed over to the door. With the light angled toward the lock, she examined it without having to squint. Her fingers ran over the numerous picks she had on her person, tongue running over her front teeth as she considered. Finally with a short nod to herself, she settled the pieces into the lock and began the delicate task of listening and turning, waiting and hoping for that tell-tale click that would mean her victory.

The ancient tumblers began to move quite easily, rather surprising. Beyond the fact that there were several more of them than usual, everything seemed to be going too easily. It was hard to see what all the fuss was about. However, with her attention focused on the lock (juuust enough to hold a thief's attention, while giving them the reward of occasional success), something moved beneath the grate. Silently, a small host of thin, gleaming tendrils rose from the holes in the grate, directly beneath her. Her attention and awareness were about to be tested as they began to curl slowly around her calves, the touch so light that many would miss it - and she would surely miss their temperature through the leather cladding her body, as rather than cold, each one was slightly warmer than her, as if to make the deception that much more difficult to dispell.

Her brows perked when she heard the mechanisms moving so easily. Indeed, the wonderment of what the fuss was about crossed her mind. But also the thought that this was perhaps going a bit too easily. Lockpick still carefully in place, shifting the lock, she glanced over her shoulder with a narrowed gaze. Finding nothing but the same vision she'd seen upon entering, she turned back, hunching slightly to stare at the lock as she worked. All the while, she felt nothing of the tendrils curling and climbing the long elven stems she stood upon.

She would notice soon enough. Two of the lengths wound their way loosely up her legs, moving more smoothly now, though still barely touching her. However, as each did graze against her leathers, the slime coating them began to dissolve small holes in the garment. As each grayish tentacle reached her thighs, the others, held in reserve, began to advance upwards as well, swaying in some unseen breeze as they rose around her. As the leather dissolved through, the liquid thankfully stopped there - perhaps it was her elven heritage, but for whatever reason, the corrosive slime did nothing to harm her skin. It did, however, begin to chill slightly in the air. That would be hard to miss.

Standing there in the silence, her ears twitched slightly as she listened to the tumblers. Obviously far too concentrated on the lock, she heard nothing of the slithering tentacles climbing higher on her body. Her brows knitted together once more when a sudden chill hit her legs. Straightening, she stared at the lock as if it was it's fault she was cold. Then, turning her gaze downward, her eyes widened. Leaving the pick in the keyhole, she growled around the blade in her mouth, reaching up to yank it free, and prepared to swing at one of the slimy appendages.

The thing, or things, seemed to have no concept of what she was doing, as the ones on her leg continued their steady climb, snaking around her thighs. Each appendage was smooth as it brushed against the skin it was baring, gliding smoothly through its own slickness. As she swung for one of them, it would likely be satisfying, as she cleaved cleanly through the fleshy length. Dark purple blood welled from the stem of the severed tentacle, and it snapped back down through the grate quickly. However, just as quickly, several of its brethren shot towards her arms, intending to wrap tightly around her wrists.

She began to move quickly, taking several likely difficult steps back with the things wrapped around her legs. Growling as she severed one, she grinned beneathe her mask. If it was a fight the creature wanted, she'd give it. But when it was replaced by several more, shock showed in her eyes. One hand shot back to grasp her second blade and unsheathe it. Both shimmering razor edges slashed out at what came for her. Regardless of whether she'd managed to strike any of them or not, her wrists had managed to become captured, severely limiting her ability to continue swinging. A long line of cursing poured from her hidden lips as she struggled against them.

Three more severed ends fell to the metal grating below, before slowly melting away, dripping through the holes between the steel bars. With her wrists captured, however, it would indeed limit her swinging abilities. As thin and flexible as they were, the tentacles were curiously strong, and all secreting that strange liquid, corroding through her leather. The two wound around her legs were snaking their way towards her hips, and as she tried to move backward, they did more than just impede her. Flexing powerfully, they yanked her downwards, bringing her to her knees atop the grate, her thighs forced apart a little more than would normally be comfortable. One more of the pale lengths winds around her torso, trying to limit her squirming, brushing up just beneath her breasts. The creature, or creatures, still didn't seem fully aware of what she was, just that she was there, and had hurt it. Or them.

A growl came from behind the mask, sounding almost triumphant and perhaps glad for a fight. The deep glow of her gaze fixated on the three severed limbs that melted back into the dark depths below the grate, urging her on. But now with her wrists captured, the boost of adrenaline was simply infuriating with no way to release the pent up energy and lust for battle. Teeth gritted behind the leather fabric draped across her nose, she spun the blade in her hand and drove it downward toward one of the tendrils wrapped around her wrist, the elven woman seeming more intent on freeing herself to cut the thing to bits than on not injuring herself at that moment. A hiss of discomfort and perhaps a hint of pain escaped her as her thighs were forced apart, her arms struggling against their binds with more determination as another limb wrapped around her torso.

She would be rewarded with a hissing sound as the blade dug into the tendril around her wrist, but unfortunately, they seemed to be learning. As another shot up to bind her wrist while its wounded counterpart retreated into the black depths below her, her arms were wrenched behind her back, the tendrils tightening to keep her from even rotating her wrists very much. As each tentacle slid and squirmed across her limbs, the one around her torso was no different. It slithered up and across her breasts, and if she hadn't noticed what it was doing to her clothing before, she most likely would now, the air kissing her skin where leather once had been.

A sharp yelp tore the silence in the air around her as her arms were wrenched behind her back. This was all too familiar a feeling, and she half expected to feel shackles. But instead, it was those same tendrils that wrapped around her wrists. Unable to squirm much with the new position, her jaw set stubbornly as her grip tightened on her blades. Then a lighter color in the room caught her attention, and her gaze shot down. Her eyes widened as she watched the leather fabric of her tunic begin to dissolve from her skin. Only now did she fully realize that she was near nude as the air licked at her warm flesh. Swallowing hard, she fell still and watched the tendrils with suspicious eyes, regrouping in her head to decide upon her next move.

Her stillness seemed to almost appease the tendrils slightly, relaxing their grip ever so slightly to keep her joints from being wrenched from their sockets. Strangely, the tentacles were not cool to the touch, but rather warm and smooth, and of course, slick with whatever that liquid was. It might have even made a good sell on the black market - able to melt through clothing, but not flesh, at least elven flesh, for some strange reason. But, it's hard to say if she'd even think of that as the tentacles began trying to figure out just what they had caught. Their movements became more exporatory, the blunt ends working their way into the melted holes they had created along her leggings, winding around her upper thighs, grazing along smooth flesh as the leathers began to dissolve around them, inching higher and higher. Her chest was quickly bound by another questing length, teasing beneath the now-bared mounds, wrapping around and between them, sliding easily into the cleavage it had just created. It really seemed to have no idea what she was still, but was determined to find out.

Her tension seemed to relax slightly as the tendrils did, her gaze following their every movement. The thought of a black market sell did cross her mind, but not just for the liquid these things seemed to be excreeting. Her grip remained tight on one of the blades, though the other she would carefully sheathe if the lengths would allow a slow cautious movement of her hand. From what she could tell, it was curious, not necessarily aggressive. Party foul on her part, perhaps. There was no telling, really, as she'd never encountering something quite like this before. Her breathing came to an abrupt halt when her chest was suddenly bound and prodded, again the movements seeming exploratory to her rather than aggressive. Whatever this creature was, it was obviously pre-pubescent. Had she managed to free one hand of her blade, her gloved...for the moment...fingertips would reach carefully toward the tendril wrapped around her wrist, attempting to explore a little herself.

While the tentacle did not exactly let go of her wrist, it seemed more than contend to let her move a little, since it was slow. It could sense no threat in her movements, so her gloved fingers would come to touch one of the lengths. It was firm, but had a bit of give to it - like a very ripe banana, without the risk of being crushed. Slightly warmer than her body, they had a decidedly fleshy feel to them beneath the layer of slick slime, which was now fairly liberally coating her body. Up and around her hips, the two on her legs wound, curving behind her to delve down the back of her pants, sliding down across the curve of her ass and between her spread thighs. They carelessly slither over her crotch side by side, effectively looped around her lower half, before they constrict slightly, squeezing mostly against her rear. Finding slightly less resistance in her body there, the length around her chest also squeezes experimentally, rippling and massaging against her breasts.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she explored the tendril around her wrist, her head cocking to the side. She couldn't get a view of the ones around her arms, but the ones wrapped around her body she could see all too clearly. Their exploration caused the frown to turn to a mildly shocked expression as they wound between her legs and squeezed her backside, enacting the same movements across her breasts. Her face flushed beneathe the mask as her body tensed again, unsure of exactly how to react to such a thing. Her voice again broke the silence, her tone a deep rolling one. Perhaps it could be considered seductive, but it was obvious she wasn't one who spoke often and usually got straight to the point when she did. "...what are you?"

Perhaps predictably, there was no answer to her question. Either it didn't understand, or it did but couldn't answer - either way, its origin was a mystery. However, if anyone cared to give it enough thought, the grate she found herself on had some interesting parallels to any sort of cell. Perhaps something she was familiar with, being locked up? It was possible that this creature, or these creatures, weren't their by the own choice. Gently but insistantly, the lengths binding her wrists began to pull them downwards, forcing her back to arch to arch slowly. Her breasts seemed to fascinate the creature, the tip that had plunged between them slowly beginning to glide up between them, only to dive back between the soft, pliant flesh. A slow vibration began in the tentacles, weak and almost hard to notice at first - as if, far below, something was purring in pleasure.

The thought hadn't quite stricken her, not yet anyway. She recieved no answer to her question, but hadn't much expected to. When the tendrils at her wrist pulled, her lips tightened into a thin line, but she didn't resist and simply let them pull her back until her breasts were presented for the exploration the creature seemed to so desperately want. She groaned softly at the dull ache that began in her arms, the same ache that she so often felt when bound. But still, she held steady, allowing it to do as it pleased with her cleavage. She hadn't noticed the vibrations yet, not with that ache that was slowly becoming a throb in her restricted arms.

She wasn't held like that for long, at least not entirely. The greyish tentacles slide up from her wrists, snaking around her upper arms, and releasing her from the elbows down. It seemed she had been calm enough long enough for it to relax a little, and instead focus on whatever else it had in mind. Still gliding through her cleavage much as an overly excited man would, it seemed that was no longer enough to satisfy its curiosity. Below her waist, the tendrils began to move once more. One unfurled itself from between her legs, spirally back down her thigh slowly, whlie the other simply shifted into the center, the rounded side of it pressed snuggly between her thighs, directly against her sex. As it began to slither forwards slowly, as if to come back up the front of her body now, it suddenly stopped for a moment, before sliding back down. It appeared to have found something else it enjoyed rubbing against, and enjoyment it surely was. The vibrations grew stronger, much harder to miss now.

She seemed to relax again when her arms were released...for the most part. Shakily sliding the other blade into it's sheathe, she raised back up from the arched position to try and let the throbbing subside from her arms. All the while her attention had been focused on that, she'd not noticed that the tendrils had lost their interest in her chest. Realization hit when movements began betwen her legs, her gaze snapping down to the tendrils there. Eyes narrowed, she watched in silence as one slithered curiously along her thigh. The other caught her attention when it suddenly stopped and slid back up to her exposed heat. As the vibrations caused her body to tense again, she gritted her teeth and forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat. "...t-that's...inappropriate..."

Almost as if it had heard and understood, the tentacle stopped sliding against her flesh. Slowly, it began to slide back, as if it too were retreating from her nether region, a reluctant departure from between her legs. However, as it slid back, it continued to press up against her, slowly grinding its way along her clit, and between the lips of her sex, the vibrations growing stronger still. Unfortunately for her, perhaps, the blunt tip soon found itself pressing back along that channel as well - which then discovered something else to explore. Paused at the very entrance to her sex, the end of the tentacle hesitates, before pressing the rounded tip experimentally against her slit, already slick with the creature's slime.

She had nearly begun to relax again when the single tentacle left between her legs found something apparently worth exploring. Her entire body went cold and stiff as she watched it, the vibrations becoming more than difficult to ignore. Her face continued to redden as it pressed to her clit, a staggering breath shaking in her chest. Then it paused at her entrance, as she went completely still, her breath ceasing as it had before. As it pressed against her, she found her own heat stubbornly disobeying her, a twitch of excitement greeting the creature's slimy length. "...s-stop...stop it..."

Hesitating again for a moment (perhaps it could understand her!), it seemed to reach a decision as its movements became more purposeful. Much like a cobra, swaying in a warning stance, the tentacle wriggled upwards, its slickness sliding easily into her sex, slowly but smoothly filling her with the warm length. It flexed within her, writhing against her inner walls. As if its decision had simply been to go for its own pleasure, attention was once again returned to her chest, her breasts still slick with the slime of the tentacles that began caressing every inch of her curves, inadvertantly sliding right overtop of her nipples, dragging smoothly over each peak. The vibrations seemed more of an excited quiver now, rippling along each tentacle, and into her body as they continued to explore her naked flesh.

Her eyes widened as she watched the tendril begin to sway in place, half expecting to hear a rattling sound greeting her gaze. Then suddenly, it slid into her. Between it's slime and her own involuntary slickness, there was no resistance. Her head jerked back as she moaned through gritted teeth, a flustered pink shade staining her cheeks as she squirmed under it's much furthered exploration. Her hips seemed entirely unsure of themselves, both trying to move away from the tendril and bucking against it. The tightness of her walls around it spoke much of how long it'd been since she'd recieved this kind of attention from anyone...or anything. As the lengths slid across her nipples, the tiny pink peaks hardened into pert little buds. Her voice came again, this time a half-hearted whimper. "...stoooop...."

The unique thing about a tentacle is, no matter how her hips move, it makes no difference to its movements. The invading length simply twisted and bent, rolling with her hips as it pushed deeper into her, reaching depths likely no one ever had, still writhing and squirming against her sensitive inner flesh. As she weakly begged with the tentacle, the grip on her legs loosened slightly, as if testing her resolve. However, as soon as her legs were freed that little bit, the tentacle driven between her legs began to thrust in and out of her sex, drawing out until only the tip remained, only to plunge the full length smoothly back into her heat, each full stroke causing a slight jerking reaction from the other tentacles, squeezing her breasts, as if being groped by a lover's hands.

It didn't seem to matter that the tendrils around her legs had loosened. Whatever fight had been in her had gone, lost to the glazed over screens of pleasure that shown in her eyes. When the thrustig began, her head rolled back, her jaw slackening to let out a cry of need and want. Should the tendrils still around her arms allow her movement, one hand would slide down her abdomen to the hot pink bud nestled below a small tuft of white hair. Her body jerked and writhed as the lengths wrapped around her breasts began to squeeze with each thrust, her face contorted with a pained look of ecstacy.

Her arm was allowed that small movement, the tentacles sensing the lack of resistance in her body now. Still pistoning smoothly in and out of her tight, hot sex, the tentacle between her thighs pauses a moment at its deepest, before -more- of the slick length ripples and flows into her body, the tip curling over as it doubles back on itself, stretching her soaked inner walls even further. Further and further it sinks itself into her, until the very tip emerges from her netherlips once more, leaving her filled with the doubled coil of warm, wet tentacle, writhing and squirming within her heat. Higher on her bared body, the fleshy lengths teasing her breasts shift their focus slightly, the tips rubbing down over each globe, grazing over her nipples, before sliding back up, her pale flesh glistening with the creature's slime. The beam of light from the ceiling had moved further up the wall, the only way to tell the passing time as she was ravaged by the slew of tentacles.

Her knees quivered and her hips bucked when she felt more of the tentacle slide into her. Eyes wide and gazing up at the rays invading from above, her entire body tensed as the length within her doubled over. Feeling herself being stretched wider, sweat began to glisten across her skin alongside the creature's own slickness. Her breath quickened into a panting as she thrust against it, her other hand sliding up to her breasts to aid the tendrils in teasing her nipples. Fully laid out and writhing with each movement of the lengths assaulting her, she shuddered against the cold floor of the ruins, a tiny puddle of fluid beginning to gather below her from between her legs.

As if sensing her reactions, several more tentacles glide up from the grate below her, one winding around her hips, before curving around her ass, the slimy length gliding between her asscheeks to better grope her fleshy rear. Another plunges between her breasts, fucking her cleavage in mimicry of the length buried in her heat. That coiled length began to move in earnest, matching the frantic bucking of her sweating body, rolling and twisting wtihin her, hitting places she didn't know she had. The tip of the tentacle between her thighs curls up a little, nudging her fingers aside to find her clit, rubbing and sliding slickly over her nerves.

Her head turns on the cool floor, gaze settling on the length that had wound around her hips. As if to greet it, the bared flesh rolled and bucked again, her mind entirely lost to the pure base need for release. Her teeth clamp around her lip as another gropes her backside and another begins to fuck her breasts. Fighting to keep her breath, her back arches over and over with each thrust of the tendril within her. When another nudges her fingers aside, she glances down at it only to throw her head back once more when it takes over teasing her clit. Moaning helplessly, her teeth grit again as her head begins to spin, the heat within her rising rapidly.

Moving with greater purpose, the lengths flex and quiver around and within her, thrusting harder, faster. Those wrapped around her breasts press them tighter against the one plunging into her cleavage, the tips of each lashing down on her nipples with gentle smacking sounds. If she happened to look, she'd notice small slits opening in each of the tentacles as the creature began to move in a frenzy, mercilessly fucking her writhing body. The rubbing agianst her clit becomes almost frantic as each tentacle swells slightly, the greyish skin oozing more profusely until the slime nearly drips from her body, mixed with the sheen of sweat to leave her soaked.

The moans quickly turn to cries and whimpers, an incoherent begging that didn't quite make it to words as the lengths fucked her without mercy. She fought to watch them through eyes that began to tear up. Both pain and pleasure shot through her like lightning, and one last time her head jerked back. Her voice echoed from the walls of the ruins as her back arched up off of the floor, her own inner walls spasming and quaking around the tentacle inside her. The slime seemed near forgotten as she jerked and twitched under every touch, stroke, and thrust. Long moments past, her release seeming never ending until finally her body gave out and she fell back to the floor in exhaustion.

Her release triggers something in the tentacles filling and caressing her body, as each swells slightly again. Buried deep within her sex, the tentacle begins to retreat on its previous path, unfurling within her until only the single length remains, the tip stroking deep into her quivering heat. Faster it thrusts, the length between her breasts mirroring the speed and vigor, until both freeze, tensing and bulging for just a moment, before her sex is flooded with a strange heat - the creature's own release. Thick and hot, it pumps into her, as the length between her soft mounds of flesh reaches the same turning point, still thrusting as the creamy white seed spurts between her breasts, plunging straight through her cleavage to coat her stomach, before pulling back through and painting the tops of her breasts white. For an eternity, the tentacles spasm and throb, her overfilled sex soon spilling the thick fluid, before they, too, relax. The seed coating and filling her has a rather strange side effect; unlike some stories which told of monsters who secreted aphrodisiacs or mind controlling substances, this merely replenishes her stamina, leaving her feeling as if she had just had the best night's sleep ever, after a full meal. Yanno, on top of the whole sexual climax thing. Because that's neat too.

Her body continued to quake uncontrollably with the forceful movements of the tentacles, a soft gasp leaving her as it spews it's own fluids all over her and overfills her insides. Sitting up onto her elbows, she stares down at them once they had finished, still catching her breath as the feeling of restfulness washes over her. She frowns, shifting her weight onto one arm and bringing the freed hand up to try and pet one of the tendrils gently. It was an odd situation, after all, but the thing hadn't hurt her...quite the opposite. A thank you of some sort seemed in order...or something.

The tentacles almost seem shy now, slowly withdrawing from her body, though they remain hovering nearby. As she strokes one, another disappears down through the grate. Some of the nearby tentacles return to her body, giving her one more rub down, from chest to feet, pressing tight to her skin. The effect turns out to be a gentle removal of the slime from her skin, the remaining residue drying quickly in the air. With her cleaning complete, the one tentacle returns from below, holding something in its curled grasp. Coming close to her, it unfurls just enough to let the object dangle from its chain - a large, ornate bronze key, rather obviously meant for the doorway she had been trying to pick, what seemed like days ago now. Waiting for her to take it, the remaining tentacles stick close by, as if watching her, the tip of each bent over as if with bowed heads. The thing seemed almost... sad.