To the Imperfect Tomorrow

       “ How long do you think it will take until the Maison Gardiennage introduce a new law on speed limits to the Court of Fontaine in response? ”

       While the days of Lady Furina and her legislative whims were long behind Fontaine, Navia oh so did want to see what the powers-that-be would make of Lighter's new creations once they had the opportunity to give them a spin. But the mischief blooming across her face was not limited to the potential chaos that the two of them could wreak with these new elemental-powered hoverbikes. She'd snuck more than a few peeks into Lighter's work over past days, and most captivating of all hadn't been the machines themselves, but in watching the craftsman at work. Seeing those muscles in his arms move as he tinkered with leftover machine parts, watching him wipe sweat off of his brow, the look of deep concentration on his face...

       She too hadn't been immune to those highly-charged moments between them: idle touches, lingering glances, a distinct lack of personal space that she already would have crossed had their respective positions not stayed her impulsive nature. Being the boss of the Spina had its restrictions, and one of those was in how close she allowed herself to be to her subordinates. Her position was influential and highly sought after. To give anyone the opportunity to question her authority was a chance that Navia simply could not take.

       And yet... she still wanted to fuck that man regardless of any potential consequences.

       That was why her hand reached out to appreciatingly smack his behind... prompting a giddy smile to flourish on her face as Lighter stopped in his tracks and turned to meet her gaze, echoing the rebellious teenager who would often be caught breaking the rules by the elder members of the Spina di Rosula.

       That giddy rush soon turned to a somersault deep in her stomach as Lighter rounded on her, speaking in that low growl that made her weak in the knees.

       But Navia Caspar was not a woman to easily give in, even when the evidence of her rampant desires was plain to see. And so she didn't give him an immediate answer, but let her sly smile speak for her instead.

       “ I'm now just wondering why you built two bikes when we have the option to ride one together instead. ” Navia deliberately let her blue eyes land on the two hoverbikes he had still been fine-tuning prior to her intrusion. “ Do you prefer to ride in front or from behind, monsieur? ”

Set before them now was the sweetest form of battle out there. An energy that found itself crackling with a touch of the beyond, yearning, an electrical like pulse that threatened to magnetize them at the threat of melting away any sense of restriction. There was no denying the form of heat Navia brews while learning the length of her circumstances. Peril happens to be a construct they happily weave into their sense of being, and just watching the way those crystal like eyes honed upon him.

Situate into the focus of this beloved President of the Spina and it's akin to the gravity wielding majesty of Geo. It centers, it expands that gravity to know how the way gold glimmers in both her gaze and emotion, it leaves him stunned as the curve of her lips says it all. It was beyond the nature of this crafty gift, it was a hint that through that shared but resistance sentiment, there was a lovely type of hell to pay.

She'd watch have an eagle eye's view of how body language was a different factor for Lorenz. How those shoulders tense, contemplation seamlessly exposed through his gaze, softer lines of hearth to stir with the wider inferno that naturally encompasses him. An idea of them taking a sledgehammer to this ordeal in the most devious way, it roused the stir of his heart, an engine that thrives off their personal magic. His damnable nature of composure however manages to wire him back into place.

"Given how familiar we are with a pair?" He allows the question to linger, for the imagination to play as it pleases while her idea drills deep into his mind.

Oh the way they'd devour the distance between them. It opened the imaginative artistry of differing visions. One that finds those dark gloves situating upon her claim, clasping tight and in this case him holding no case of a shirt as a feeble barrier. The 'opposing' option finds itself as equally teamed, being the guide that shows Navia how to conquer the skies. How they've thrive in newly explored territory, how they'd set that carefully composed barrier aflame once again. A hunger to melt her into his very grasp was consuming. To be the source of why her voice thrive in luxurious bliss only deepened that pit.

Is that what you want to play into his mind, Navia Caspar? All the angles he can discovery your majesty anew?

The ashes that play before their eyes were tantalizing, and no amount of restraint could dream of conquering what makes the heart of this man.

"Now boss. Tryin' to figure preferences here? Asking how I want to sun is a dangerous game."

Whether that was the direction made or not, Lighter lets action take the grounds for that question as he'd situate upon the primary bike she was eying. It was a beastial beauty of metal and the grit of his old homeland. Just having him close prompts it to stir, his natural flow of Pyro being the signature it registers the best. With his position, he's slotted upon the middle, a little towards the rear as one of his hands clasps upon the handlebar. There was a renegade's ferocity that sculpts him with sharpness, that other hand drawn over towards the blonde in invitation.

𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥   𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝   𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫   𝐝𝐢𝐝   𝐧𝐨𝐭   𝐬𝐨   𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡   𝐚𝐬   𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡   the   second   he   assumed   her   interpretation   of   installing   a   raceway   was   comparable   to   a   terrorist   attack   nor   did   she   bothered   to   deny   it.   that   singular   eye   remained   on   his   person   without   blinking   as   though   she   was   filing   every   word   he   was   saying   for   later   use   ⸻   perhaps   use   it   against   him   in   a   court   of   law   if   it   ever   came   down   to   it.   for   the   time   being,   he   was   behaving   though   not   without   causing   a   considerable   amount   of   concerns   that   she   will   have   to   advise   airspace   patrol   to   keep   an   eye   out   for.   citizens   were   still   unfortunate   enough   to   fall   from   the   skies   despite   all   the   warning   signs   &   precautions   placed   around   them,   &   it   was   not   because   they   can’t   drive   ⸻   just   mere   bad   luck.   &   the   last   thing   dracaene   needed   was   to   add   another   layer   to   their   already   strict   operations.

order   needed   to   be   upheld   as   best   as   possible.

𝐚   𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭   𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡   𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝   𝐡𝐞𝐫,   amused   in   a   way   that   felt   too   intentional   to   be   accidental.   her   hands   found   refugee   behind   her   back   as   her   attention   sharpened   on   the   champion   with   interest   that   almost   felt   playful.   she   stepped   a   little   closer   to   him   yet   that   distance   remained   as   she   peered   up   at   him   without   the   slightest   trace   of   intimidation   despite   the   massive   difference   in   height.   the   only   thing   she   would   be   slightly   afraid   of   would   be   oil   smearing   across   her   clean   floors   with   each   step   he   took.   

❝   bangboo   rainfall   would   likely   be   a   considerable,   normal   occurrence   to   people   down   below   if   ‘airway   aggression’   existed.   ❞

the   minerva   storm   belt   would’ve   most   likely   picked   up   the   poor   unfortunate   little   machines   &   thrown   them   elsewhere,   but   that   was   a   thought   she   refused   to   think   too   much   on.

❝   if   it   eases   your   concern,   i   believe   outer   ring   individuals   are   capable   drivers   ⸻   ❞

otherwise,   there   would   be   none   left.   

❝   ⸻   but   i   also   believe   they   prioritize   embellishment   over   safety.   speed   becomes   a   spectacle,   control   becomes   a   performance   &,   eventually,   something   catches   on   fire.   ❞   

𝐬𝐡𝐞   𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝   𝐨𝐧   𝐡𝐞𝐫   𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬   𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧,   hands   still   tucked   behind   her   back   with   her   head   held   up   high   &   looking   so   damn   proud   of   herself   for   simply   stating   facts,   at   least   according   to   her.   besides,   she   did   catch   up   on   that   peculiar   music   video   that   originated   from   the   outer   ring   a   couple   of   months   back,   &   that   gave   her   all   the   evidence   she   needed   to   make   her   case.   

❝   &,   correct   me   if   i’m   wrong,   but   is   it   not   dangerous   for   people   to   be   driving   while   under   the   influence   .ᐣ.ᐣ   not   only   does   that   render   the   ability   to   think   properly   but   also   increases   the   chances   of   self   combustion   on   top   of   the   explosions   that   come   from   whatever   daredevils   stunts   you   all   are   participating   in.   ❞

𝐚   𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐲   𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞   𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝   𝐡𝐞𝐫   𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬   that   rode   between   the   lines   of   politeness   &   mischievousness.   she   knew   she   had   something   to   do   for   phaethon’s   recovery   procedure,   but   that   can   wait   for   just   a   little   while   longer ;   her   new   goal   was   to   see   how   much   she   can   dissect   the   man   before   writing   up   her   final   report   &   figure   out   whether   he   was   going   to   end   up   being   a   bad   influence   or   not,   probably   the   former.   

❝   it   also   doesn’t   help,   mr.   lighter,   for   you   to   be   susceptible   to   a   simple   bump   by   your   fellow   comrade   &   lose   your   footing   so   painfully   bad   that   it   sends   you   several   meters   away   from   where   you   once   stood   before   falling   into   a   pile   of   junk.   who’s   to   say   you   won’t   be   the   first   one   to   fall   to   an   early   death   with   that   sort   of   footmanship   .ᐣ.ᐣ   ❞   

but   perhaps   she   could   use   him   as   an   example   ⸻   as   a   psa   to   warn   others   of   the   dangers   of   trying   to   ‘be   cool’.

Seriously. Why is she so short!? Is this practical alignment with hell (even in the heavens) the reason where this mischief dawned so vibrantly?

Yet the jabs about the Outer Ring's style? Now that played into his amusement, not one bit of that Lighter would retract. "Considering how those joyrides play as a core for convoy transport within the Hollows no less? Lady Sunbringer, it all plays into purpose." Lighter makes sure to emphasize. The divide between the living legend and the current makes it tricky. Arrogance could boil beyond if he were to say she was wet behind the ears. However, that uncanny valley of all of this still remains too.

Is she Lady Sunbringer due to running Roscaelifer? Or, is she running Roscaelifer due to being Lady Sunbringer? There was an innocence wired with her more testy perceptions of a Ringer that made the head of this department look like a gray haired Rubix cube.

"Living a long life would be out the question if you didn't carry that grit. Shattered laws, the skill to weave it into something new, even the lawless lands have their own values."

...

......

Oh fuck.

That well placed confidence found itself flicked by a mystery piece. One where he can picture a pair of wild gold pigtails flowing, the indescribable bounce of drink and figure, his mind could only damn the circumstances that burned coronal as he imagined EXACTLY where this was coming from. It was the exploits of the Outer Ringer's general Entity; Burnice White. A genius mixologist who plays solely to her own tune and that she cares for.

To the Champion's credit, the first reaction was not to break into profanities or to indulge a nervous sweat. Instead, he perceives the Honor of the Sons on the line. "Careful now, Void Hunter. You look a little too cheeky at the opportunity of underestimating an opponent. If a brochure told ya that pigs mutated to a point of flying in our homeland? Would you believe that?"

One step. Two. In an instant the scientist would have a new subject of study act rapidly with his ingrained agility. A stir of Ether within, fine muscle working, it'd only lead to the footwork an unnatural level boxer could utilize as he practically dances with light and shadow. From briefly appearing upon desk, a flip to the stair rails, that Red Scarf enjoying the whip styled flow of movement as he reappears before her. Situated in a handstand, his arm easily lifts the weight of built flesh and and sturdy metal, peeking up towards Dracena before he flips back onto his feet.

"Good taste. As if you're not giving the world here a five star buffet full of options here. This could be the grounds of spoilin' y'know."

𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥’𝐬   𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫   𝐰𝐚𝐬   𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭   𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡   𝐭𝐨   𝐛𝐞   𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧   𝐟𝐨𝐫   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫   𝐨𝐟   𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬   caught   upon   a   breeze   as   it   slipped   between   a   smile   that   was   every   bit   as   dangerous   as   it   was   beautiful.   the   champion   had   treated   her   honeyed   words   not   as   a   trap   but   as   an   invitation   to   dance   ;   the   touch   to   her   pink   hair   earning   him   genuine   amusement   behind   lowered   lashes.   humanity   had   grown   weary   of   her,   so   it   was   refreshing   to   come   face   to   face   with   someone   who   has   stared   down   enough   infernos   to   simply   acknowledge   her   presence   as   another   obstacle   to   overcome   with   open   arms.   

❝   my,   my   ~   you’re   even   more   thrilling   than   the   rumors   themselves.   ❞

𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬   𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝   𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦   𝐡𝐞𝐫   𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞   𝐢𝐧   𝐚   𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐲   𝐡𝐮𝐦   as   one   immaculate   wing   unfurled   ever   so   slightly   behind   her,   casting   a   veil   of   feathers   around   the   narrow   alleyway   like   curtains   to   engulf   the   both   of   them   within   her   enclosure.   she   had   been   right   to   locate   him   the   second   she   heard   an   outsider   had   been   considered   a   national   threat   ⸻   she   was   now   far   too   interested   for   her   to   back   away   without   getting   a   little   more   of   a   taste   of   this   fire   roscaelifer   had   now   grown   afraid   of.

❝   they   call   you   a   threat   because   they   can’t   predict   or   understand   you.   i’d   like   to   venture   a   guess   that   you   ride   alongside   the   same   level   of   exposure   as   an   ethereal   outside   a   hollow   ⸻   so   animalistic,   so   lethal,   so   untamed.   ❞

𝐡𝐞𝐫   𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐩   𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭   𝐡𝐚𝐝   𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞   𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝   𝐡𝐢𝐬   𝐣𝐚𝐰   drifted   lower   until   it   rested   lightly   against   the   center   of   his   chest.   she   could   feel   the   warmth   radiating   through   layers   of   cloth,   steady   &   unwavering   beneath   her   touch   like   the   comforting   crackle   of   a   bonfire   refusing   to   be   smothered   by   rain.   the   siren   like   gleam   in   her   eyes   remained   transfixed   upon   his   face,   almost   as   if   speaking   to   him   directly   through   vision   rather   than   words   &   allowing   her   body   language   alone   to   fill   in   the   blanks   beneath   hidden   messages.   

❝   being   too   safe   has   always   been   boring   for   me.   it’s   infinitely   times   between   when   it   feels   risky   &   wrong,   don’t   you   agree   .ᐣ.ᐣ   ❞   

𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞   𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞   𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫   𝐛𝐲   𝐚   𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧,   her   breast   lightly   grazing   against   his   jacket   &   enough   for   her   voice   to   fall   into   something   intimate,   the   kind   of   tone   meant   for   secrets   exchanged   beneath   moonlight   rather   than   broad   daylight.   the   finger   that   had   once   rested   against   his   chest   now   found   a   perch   upon   the   crook   of   his   neck   as   her   new   fascination   was   outlining   the   muscles   in   that   specific   area.   plump   lips   dipped   themselves   into   the   honey   of   temptation   as   her   expression   carried   a   defiance   that   was   unbecoming   of   the   angelic   aesthetics   she   presented,   but   she   never   once   claimed   to   be   wholesome,   now   did   she?

❝   if   you   care   to   dance   with   me,   champion   of   the   outer   ring,   i’d   love   to   exploit   your   perilous   endeavors   to   ones   of   my   own.   i'd   sooner   scorch   my   wings   than   to   allow   this   opportunity   slip   by   me   without   giving   it   at   least   a   little   try   ~   ❞

What could ever put fear or restraint within one of New Eridu's legends? They've faced monstrosities that horrors never conceived, madness that would break any able or seasoned soul. So to find a manicured nail charting its courses left a slow breath being drawn in, those now slanted shades revealing those coal jade eyes and the illustrious wonder of color upon her. Walking divinity, the sort that defies the nature of Rule and that found itself solidified once she captured his neck in her grasp.

A study of the jaw? Fine. Dainty fingers making miniature rivers along the leather of his coat? Peachy. Yet what she issued with such a grasp upon the Champion's form was challenge in its finest light. "Knowing all this, the first thing you'd picture doing is trying to turn those fingers into a collar?" Now his figure would move, gumption tied with the absurdity serving as his guide as he'd draw a hand along Remielle's shoulder, allowing the fire of that hand to sweep down her side, gliding for purchase and appreciation as one as it'd boldly keep upon her lush hip.

"..Feelin' hungry? Your appetite looks like it detests the unseasoned state this land carries. !" Peering further down, that's where he'd feel that sudden outcrop of warmth as her bust squeezed even closer, right now he was rigid shapes and she was succulent softness, perfect for her molding and it'd make a dry swallow etch through his throat.

If that's the game-- Hesitation would be the danger.

"Well then, from one criminal to another." Seal their depravity in the simplicity of a single moment. Lighter would brave the unknown, the questions, burning it all away as he'd come the distance with the firmness of his lips capturing this lost angel's. The kiss defied reason, it needed no rising curve, all that mattered was that Remielle displaying that honey through action demanded a price. Something the Ringer would contently wolf down.

Sacrilege didn't begin to explain the weight of what he's doing. A legend set from myths, a figure that brought light to new Eridu even through her sin, it all led to a moment where all of that is cast aside and he's squeezing her close. Right now the Champion's physique would become her playground, and that fearsome heat to situate against as he'd angle his head to the side. This kiss wouldn't find a light ground for dance, it's firm and fiery, a declaration that he won't be swept away into her whimsy with having her indulge in the bliss of every consequence. And oh did she taste delicious, spring turned sweet, a flavor of frosting that balanced richness and everything important.

( 🐰 ) GOING TO A haunted house was a bad idea .. especially one where the decorations were not placed in a fashion where it suited her tastes. scary and maddening all in one she was very lucky to have lighter leading the way through. gods why did she allow Phaethon to talk her into this.

❛ .. I SHOULDN'T HAVE let her dare me. i -- ❜ breaking off as a giant creature of some kind jumped out from the side , leading the thirin to scream in terror ; grabbing hold of the taller man's arm.

Now if only he could've prepared for the girlish squeak that erupts from a royal's throat. An immediate bundle of warmth stirs by his sight, while arms that belie a fearsome strength fully seizes his attention. Now he remembers Phaethon making a fond nudge to look out for the Thymefield, yet for the life of him could he ever remember why.

He's caught the artistry in her swordplay, a tandem of elegance and aggression that lead to Ethereals and Hollow Raiders alike being rendered in pin cushions. So imagine his tonal whiplash to see her practically fluffed up out from the current... opponents, that can allow some pride to remain.

"Pretty big guy, isn't it? And the teeth. Looks like they'd fashion up into some fine blades for you." Lighter muses, allowing that rogue like charm to shine with a daring grin as the prop retracts with a tacky branch of soundbite laughter.

𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧   𝐡𝐚𝐝   𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧   𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝   𝐚𝐬   𝐚   𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝   𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫  where   two   souls   reconnect   after   being   apart   &   distracted   by   the   ever   growing   world   around   them.   but   unfortunately   for   her,   lighter   had   always   possessed   a   remarkable   talent   for   dismantling   her   carefully   constructed   composure   without   batting   an   eye   as   though   he   simply   had   been   born   to   confuzzle   her.   because   the   moment   this   man’s   laughter   basked   her   in   a   warmth   comparable   (   &   much   preferred   )   to   the   sun’s,   she   felt   something   traitorous   flutter   within   her   chest.   even   after   surviving   a   hundredth   of   his   years,   she   hated   herself   for   being   affected   so   deeply   by   something   as   mundane   as   a   human’s   laughter.

.   .   .   though   if   she   could,   she   would   love   to   keep   a   record   of   his   voice   alone   to   store   for   many   more   years   to   come.

❝   if   your   heart   yearns   for   the   gentle   caress   of   nostalgia,   i   believe   i   could   reenact   our   first   meeting   without   a   problem.   that   is,   of   course,   if   your   delicate   shoulders   possess   the   fortitude   to   withstand   the   formidable   sharpness   of   my   heels   yet   again.   ❞

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞   𝐰𝐚𝐬   𝐚   𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭   𝐨𝐟   𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭   𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧   𝐡𝐞𝐫   𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞   after   his   suggestion   of   exploring   more   of   the   world   around   them   as   memory   of   their   first   encounter   hummed   in   the   back   of   her   mind,   holding   it   close   &   dear   to   her.   vivian   cleared   her   throat   lightly   however,   maintaining   the   professionalism   she   felt   as   though   she   had   to   abide   by   until   the   embarrassment   surged   once   more   &   threatened   to   bloom   across   her   pale   features   the   second   his   fingers   laced   into   her   own.   ruby   reds   stared   at   the   man   in   utter   awe   before   readjusting   her   expression   to   match   more   of   someone   who   didn’t   much   care   for   physical   touch.   &   rather   than   taking   her   hand   back,   her   slender   fingers   curled   instinctively   against   his   palm,   betraying   her   far   more   effectively   than   words   ever   could.   her   gaze   drifted   downward   momentarily   towards   their   joined   hands   before   quickly   retreating   elsewhere   as   though   she   might   somehow   escape   the   evidence   of   her   own   attachment.

a   vampire   shouldn’t   find   comfort   in   sunlight   &   yet   ⸻

❝   a   leisure   walk   after   a   delectable   treat   strikes   as   an   agreeable   notion,   &   one   that   would   require   a   capable   escort.   the   sun   is   quite   bothersome   during   this   time   of   day.   ❞

⸻   she   made   time   for   him   despite   it   all.

𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐧   𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞   𝐭𝐨   𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤   𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤   𝐮𝐩   𝐚𝐭   𝐡𝐢𝐦,   seeing   past   his   dark   shades   &   into   those   fiery   cores   of   his   emeralds.   she   never   recognized   it   until   now,   but   it   was   peculiar   how   the   both   of   them   had   a   means   to   hide   themselves   from   something   using   a   barrier   ⸻   her   with   her   parasol   &   him   with   his   glasses.   outsiders   might   believe   they   may   be   for   the   same   thing   ⸻   the   sun   ⸻   but   she   had   known   him   long   enough   that   his   squeamish   reaction   to   the   sight   of   blood   was   his   reasoning   behind   his   seclusion   .   .   .   &   even   now,   she   wondered   how   bravely   he   had   offered   some   of   his   own   to   had   saved   her   way   back   when.   

𝐡𝐞𝐫   𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝   𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝   𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲   𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡   𝐟𝐨𝐫   𝐡𝐢𝐦   𝐭𝐨   𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥,   his   undeniable   scent   engulfing   her   a   blanket   of   roasted   fires.   the   memory   of   his   blood   rested   permanently   on   her   tongue   no   matter   how   many   other   tastes   she   had   collected   throughout   the   years.   other   blood   sustained   her   body,   but   his   lingered   within   her   thoughts.   none   have   come   to   satisfy   her   quite   as   much   as   his   nor   would   she   have   wanted   it   any   other   way.

he   possess   an   almost   alchemical   capacity   to   compel   me   &   find   him   utterly   irresistible.   surely,   he   is   doing   this   on   purpose.

❝   spending   time   with   the   boar   of   the   outer   ring   has   long   been   overdue,   &   it   pleases   me   that   your   schedule   has   found   sufficient   time   to   spare   on   my   behalf.   ❞

𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭   𝐛𝐮𝐭   𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭   𝐨𝐟   𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬   curled   her   near   permanent   frown   on   her   lips   as   it   reached   her   eyes,   shimmering   even   beneath   the   shadow   of   her   umbrella.   the   lightest   brush   against   his   arm   suggested   playfulness,   another   factor   she   rarely   presented   to   anyone   else.

❝   should   we   happen   to   stop   somewhere   secluded   along   the   way,   i   may   find   myself   in   need   of   refreshment   ~   ❞

That's more like it. He appreciates the sentiment, the effort in Vivian's nature to carve out moments, to open a cradle of possibility where it can remain comfortable, amiable, where even warm questions don't gain too much time if they become heavy. The nature of his wishes however ached for the girl beyond that very looking glass. Nights where they're upon couches in the dusted wilds, days where it can be the high and lavish, one day having her situated in a car as they go for a ride along a street line by the shores.

Yeah. That was the type of experience he wanted her hands to be able to freely devour. He was no different in another vein, watching the way periwinkle dances with her grace, gentle breezes their temptress and the happiness shared their anchor. Despite her natural challenge against sunlight, it didn't change the way she glows when those rays above howl down to the earth below. It's only when her fingers make a clutch, that squeeze that draws upon their connection that the sentiment finds itself returned, the moment tenderly broken to begin anew.

"C'mon then. This part of the sidewalk has gained enough of our free time, let's move around Eridu." Lighter adds in, naturally taking the lead once they settle into a comfortable beat. Now they were part of that very ocean of people, their world refracting against countless others. Some may recognize him, countless more do not, somehow he can't help but imagine that Vivian is freed from such proclivities unless it came to the highest echelons.

However some habits find themselves nigh impossible to change. Lighter remains vigil, an eye steeped both in the light and darkness of their home. It comes from no mere underestimation of Vivian's abilities, rather, her honor is now his own, and the ferocity that races within his heart has the demands that it's safe kept. That gentle brush, one that's made with intent as their arms now practically intertwined opens a different window of thought. Perking up, his attention falls to the luxurious state of that umbrella, down into the shadows where hints of her hair bob and those sharpened eyes hone upon him.

A playful jest? Seriousness? What exactly follows when such an offer keeps itself settled as an idea? That thought briefly makes him leer towards the heavenly eye that bestows heat upon them all. A grace to many, an enemy to some, a gentle hum makes a deep rumble in his throat.