Rissa 10 This robe of mine changes my disposition
“Solus cum sola sive cuncties cum omnibobs”
James Joyce, Finnegans Wake, Part I, 7:189 [ties to female sex organs and her boobs].
Rissa daily pummels & knocks about a young templar before free straight sex.
They liked to see smiling partner & furnished appreciations of Isabela’s booty.
Rissa accepts proposition & places Isabela in line after panicky Fenris bedded.
“When the eyes meet one another they receive the impression of the body as in a mirror, and this emanation of beauty, which penetrates down into the soul through the eyes, effects a kind of union however the bodies are sundered; ’tis all but a bodily union—a new kind of bodily embrace.”
Achilles Tatius, The Adventures of Leucippe and Clitophon, Book I, Chapter 9:5.
BeetleJuice Harry Belafonte — Jump In The Line:
Winter triangle makes Isabela: Sirius [Arishok] & Rissa: Procyon [canis minor].
Betelgeuse would be a magnificent elven male reconciled to girly friendships.
Cullen & Arishok are prototypes of Chasind perverted brute chaining a dragon.
“‘All right, then!’ thought the philosopher Khoma, and he began saying exorcisms almost aloud. Finally, quick as lightning, he jumped from under the old woman and in his turn leaped on her back. With her small, quick step the old woman ran so fast that the rider could hardly catch his breath. The earth just flashed beneath him. Everything was clear in the moonlight, though the moon was not full. The valleys were smooth, but owing to the speed everything flashed vaguely and confusedly in his eyes. He snatched up a billet lying in the road and started beating the old woman as hard as he could with it. She let out wild screams; first they were angry and threatening, then they turned weaker, more pleasant, pure, and then soft, barely ringing, like fine silver bells, penetrating his soul. A thought flashed inadvertently in his head: Is this really an old woman? ‘Oh, I can’t take any more!’ she said in exhaustion and fell to the ground.
He got to his feet and looked into her eyes: dawn was breaking and the golden domes of the Kievan churches shone in the distance. Before him lay a beauty with a disheveled, luxurious braid and long, pointy eyelashes. Insensibly, she spread her bare white arms and moaned, looking up with tear-filled eyes. Khoma trembled like a leaf on a tree: pity and some strange excitement and timidity, incomprehensible to himself, came over him; he broke into a headlong run.”
Nikolai Gogol, Viy, 1835 [but the girl who is not a prize remains worthless].