middaeg | (Closed) Octeuril Catch All

'We'. [ Where Sokie encourages him forward with sonorous intonations (husky, in her voice) and a here-and-there brush of a kiss, Asura ultimately decides...! To lean back. All the way back, until his shoulderblades meet with couch cushions, and the blankets are pulled clean from Sokie's person. And there he reclines, his legs swung up, on top of the couch, one arched across Sokie's lap, and one pressed into the crevice of the couch behind her. If only he thought to close his legs, she'd be trapped between his thighs. ] It sounds good, this future you've imagined with me in it, but...

[ Here, his voice trails off, suggestive and deep, as he toys with the idea of returning to his not-so-light reading. But at the end of the day, Sokie's much easier to focus upon without going cross-eyed (she's gorgeous, when she's flirtatious and free, alive in a different way from the facet of herself which had been consumed by anger), and Asura's grin is casual and lopsided as he regards her— ]

Maybe you won't get everything you want. [ Especially if she keeps on calling him 'little'. He isn't certain how or when he inspired that awful nickname.

Buuuut... he hadn't missed it, how her gaze had sharpened beneath the weight of old sorrows, and if she truly does not wish to speak of her past, he'll not press. Instead, he teases back: ] What happens, then?

I thought you would like that.

[She smiles at him. Going with the little shift of body until! Ah, a thigh trap. Oh no, how terrible, whatever would she do.]

But it is so interesting when things don't go exactly to plan! It makes it exciting. And then, I have to see what will happen next, and how I'm to counter it- if I so wish.

[For a conqueror she sounds more like she's flirting with him, and her hands smooth over his chest, over his shoulders- and down again.]

And I may even have to fight for the world, using my beloved summer kings knowledge of war, the charm that comes from alliance's and allegiances...

But if we take this world, we'll use the Covens to open the path back.

We'll go home.

And maybe I'll stop hiding.

Maybe.

If you take something, that's a responsibility all its own. [ He groans, but maybe the sound can't be helped, not with the way her hands rove over his chest, her fingertips skimming over ridges of abdominal muscle (straying precariously close to the deep cut of his shirt) before running the course all over again.

It's more soothing than he'd care to admit, especially in the moment when he allows his eyes to fall closed, blocking out everything save for the rhythms of Sokie's touch. And for a moment, he's almost able to forget the pulse of magical buildup behind his eye sockets. Almost. ] You can't conquer one realm and then forsake it for the comforts of home.

[ Not without first building lasting infrastructure to support the realm in question. And that? That's one hell of a time commitment, one which he doesn't know if Sokie's capable of. Though maybe, he'd like to be pleasantly surprised. ]

That's called reckless abandonment, you know?

[ The copy of the book which had previously occupied his afternoon is set down, beside the couch, before his eyes open, and he lifts a hand to tug at the collar of Sokie's shirt, lowering her head just enough to allow for a press of his lips to her jawline, fleeting and as fond as everything else. ]

Everything you desire— [ Not just knowledge, and not just the world. ] —comes at price, no different from magic.

[She groans at him. Yes, it makes sense, but she wants to just do the whole fantasy thing and pretend she can just do what she wants. But at least he seems to be enjoying her touch, even if he felt a little warmer then usual.]

You're such a party pooper.

[She grumbled loudly, but she let herself be pulled in, tilting her head to expose her chin and throat. She did enjoy the touch, truly. And she did sneak in a few of her own kisses to him, even on his horns.]

Yes, of course there would have been some lovely infrastructures, relying on technology and trade and seeing about the formation of democratic city states, with a fair amount of population seats and no emphasis on royal ties that don't matter anymore.

I was taking about the fun parts, because that's motivating. Nerd.

I know— [ His laughter is an easy, rumbling thing, making for a pleasant sensation when its smooth vibrations reverberate through the woman laid atop him. No one's ever kissed his draconic's horns before (and truth be told, it's as pleasurable as it is an oddity, perhaps akin to laving attention to the shell of a human ear), but it doesn't surprise him that Sokie's gone there, as eager as she seems to learn him (as keen as they are to know each other). But that doesn't stop him from being positively c h a r m e d by her grumble and her pout, his voice sensual and deep as he openly confesses: ] —and yet, I couldn't help myself. You're awful cute when you're derailed.

[ Technology. Democracy. City states. Abolishment of royalty. Hmm.... ]

Maybe it's best that you source your motivation from a different supplier. [ Grinning, he presses his nose to the crook of her shoulder and neck, nuzzling there for one second before grazing the same bit of skin (gently, gently) with his teeth in the next. ] Think I could help you locate one, but...

Only if you explain to me how I can be both a jock and nerd at once.

Edited 2019-10-27 20:41 (UTC)

You can't help ruining a perfectly good diabolical outline. It's clearly an outline. Or goal completion.

[She's still kissing parts of him-his forehead, his nose, more of his horns-even if she's grumbly. She still enjoys how he nestles, and the teeth against the spot...ah. Just because she's a little annoyed with him, her fingers go over his body-and right into his arm pits-in an attempt to tickle him.]

It's very simple Asura. You just are.

[Now hush and let her check to see if he's ticklish.]

[ Terribly taken with her flurry of kisses (and still caught up with the ache in his head), Asura fails to realize the obvious signs of the imminent revenge which Sokie enacts by...! What is she doing, anyway? Where are her fingers going, and why is he so sensitive there that he wheezes? ]

Never thought— [ He gasps a little, breathless and laughing and wheezing still. ] —that I'd be one looking for logic in a conversation with you.

[ But instead of asking her to put an end to whatever this onslaught is (who in their right mind seeks to elicit this sort of reaction from a person by deliberately honing in on their underarms with stupid feather-light and quick-as-a-fiddle touches??), he raises a taloned hand to cover his face, blocking out the light (and so too hiding the redness of his face). ]

Sokie, please— [ He can't laugh anymore.

Really. This just took a turn for the worse?? ] Migraine. Nausea. I might be sick.

[ And that'd be terrible. Especially if it were all over Sokie's newly-minted copy of 'memories, and how to modify them'. ]

[Poor king, no one had tried to tickle him before. Here she thought the kids who he was so fond of would have tried it at least once.

But he needed the laugh. He'd the habit of getting too grim given the chance.

Though she hadn't realizedhe was-][She pulled back and off of him- and swiped her book up off the floor just in case.]

Wait, are you...? Still?

[ The sound of hurling should be answer enough to her question.

Where Sokie had pulled back and away, Asura had rolled free of the blankets and clean off of the couch before selecting the pot of an indoor plant as his puke-receptacle. He's sick, all right, and while he heaves up a fair amount of bile, there's no relief afterward. After losing the contents of your stomach, you're supposed to feel better, right? Or at least, that's how Asura supposes the human body should work. In any case, he still feels horrid, the pain radiating through his skull traveling down his spine to set his nerve endings alight with energy and the need to expend it.

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, his taloned fingers curl and flex as he backs away from the plant. ]

Yeah. Still. [ And it's awful like nothing else. Being a Witch is bad, but being an unbonded Witch is worse. ]

...I'll take the plant outside. Burn it. Recharge the runic wards for the barrier while I'm at it.

[...yup she was smart to pick up her book.

At least he hadn't puked on the blankets or on the couch. It seemed that she just tickled him into puking which...normally was something she would avoid. Thankfully while she dislikes the smell, she's not sitting still-instead she's straightening out the couch, and moving to get a bowl for him to hurl in more if need be.

And a cup of water. And his tooth brush and toothpaste.]

Smart. If it still doesn't work, we can go over some runes that I think you'll enjoy fooling around with.

Or if that's too much, some makeup enchantments.

[ His head swims and his vision blurs and by the time he's managed to quell both sensations Sokie's gone and returned, setting down a bowl, a glass, and tooth-brushing necessities all in careful succession. It's... not quite what he'd expected of her (mostly, because he'd never ask her for help in a scenario such as this one), and yet the gesture's there all the same, quiet and thoughtful. ]

Either. Both. I need to get rid of this excess magic. It's— [ Really rough on the insides. Like an electric fire, the kind Asura does not favor, nor will he ever. ]

It's my own mess. [ His stomach doesn't feel ready for water. And the smell is more bothersome than the taste at the back of his mouth, so the action that follows next is a sound decision: he rises, gathering up the indoor plant, and makes to escort the offender outside for an early sentencing and execution. The scent of his own sick might make him hurl a g a i n, otherwise. ] Didn't mean to make you a part of it, but here you are anyway.

[ Giving pause when his path takes him past wherever Sokie's stationed, he murmurs: ] You've got my gratitude, for that.

[Rude, she could be nice. And really, if he hadn't taken the plant by himself, she'd help out. She could be thoughtful!!! Rude. He really didn't get that there were some benefits to having boyfriend-girlfriend status.

Or manfriend-womanfriend status.]

Then we'll do both until you feel like yourself. It is your own mess, but there's no point in letting yourself fry yourself from the inside. If you can't think, you can't find the solution you need.

[The only way she was calm was...well, she'd smelt it before. She didn't like it, part of her still wanted to hurl, but it was something she could hold off on.]

Also, we decided we're part of each others lives. This is part of the ride.

[She lightly made to touch his hair, before pulling away.]

Now please go clean that up before you puke again.

This [ here, he raises the potted plant for emphasis ] will be nothing but ash, by the time I'm through with it.

[ And look there, Asura even flashes one of his infamous off-kilter grins, though he's careful not to bare teeth or linger in Sokie's vicinity for too long, lest the ripe smell of sick get to her too. (The human body is, in fact, disgusting. There are times when Asura misses his wholly draconic form with a ferocity that takes his mind back to Arcadia. And this? This is one of them).

But... the feel of her hand skimming over the curls of his hair is nice. A comfort, even, one that is accepted as intended.

No, Asura doesn't really know the customs surrounding being womanfriend-manfriend. Despite carrying on with many, the Diadem had always kept little things (balms, like company during the Messiest of times) at bay. ]

I'm coming back for the toothbrush and for you, though. Count on it. You're stuck with me now, Sokie Undertown.

[ Tomorrow, he'll have to make sure coffee is ready and waiting for her in the morning. ]

Edited 2019-11-03 19:00 (UTC)

I believe you.

[She smiles back, knowing that he'd do it. Fire comes easy to him, and what just happened was rude and offensive!!! How dare it. It's far too human. It's the nasty bit of human, like colds and going numb from cold.

But here at least she can offer a little bit of touch, the bit of support, he may have never experienced in this life.]

And I've been stuck with you since you figured out I was here. That's not news.

[She smiles, and makes a flicking hand motion.]

But you're not having me until your mouth does not taste like sick. Fair?

[She thinks it's more then fair.]

Fair. [ —he agrees, taking his exit, though his voice reaches Sokie's ears (as intended, because when have they ever allowed the walls of their shared home to put a damper on their conversation?) even as he makes his way out into the courtyard: ] I don't even want my own tongue in my mouth, at this point.

[ It feels heavy, thick, and g r o s s, like some bile is still hanging suspended at the back of his throat (and maybe it still is, but he doesn't really want to swallow??). Anyway, the sensation is forgotten in the moment when the plant lights up, the expenditure of energy exactly what he'd needed. But it isn't enough, not even after he lights up the four runic wards guarding the house, sinking as much magic as possible into them.

He's used to the feeling of fire churning in the depths of his chest, but not this.

When he returns to Sokie, his complexion looks better. And guess what? His teeth have been brushed—twice. One round hadn't banished the taste of sick completely (yuck). ]

Runes, then? But without you being between my legs, much as I would like to revisit that. [ And he's settling beside Sokie in three, two, one...! ] You know, back home we used to have spelled flasks and satchels which were used solely to store excess Glamour.

You think it's possible to make something like that here, for the express purpose of holding magic before someone like me can vomit it up? [ SERIOUS QUESTIONS... ]

Edited 2019-11-07 04:41 (UTC)

[Yeah, they never really kept to one room for conversations, did they? It was mostly just raising voices, knowing that the other person would hear, and they'd ask for repeats if need be.]

Don't rip your tongue out. I need it for later.

[It's one last tease before he goes outside, erasing his sin. She just moves to grab an apple to eat for herself, waiting for Asura to come back. Fruit, good, yummy, and she swallows her apple piece as he comes back, straightening up.]

I mean, we could, but we wouldn't get much magic done.

[She took a moment to wipe her hand with one of her hankies, and frowned. Glamour might not be a terrible idea but...]

I think it's possible to store things into magic, sure- that's how normal people can use magitech. But are you asking for like a...vomit bag, but for magic?

[She considered, wrinkling her nose. She was quiet for a few minutes as she considered what she knew. Then:]

Here's the problem with that. It's a good idea but the thing with the magic of this land...there needs to be connections, bonds. It's basically like trying to make kinetic energy into inert energy.

The only thing that seems close would be the use of alchemy, but that doesn't take the magic of the user, but of the items in use.

Unless you've come across something else in your magitech work...?

Most magitech functions off of spelled power sources that mimic fuel. [ But that's common knowledge, yeah? When Asura states the fact, there's no need for any consideration (or a cute as hell wrinkling of nose). Mentally, he makes a note to have brainstorming sessions with Sokie more often: the little tics she displays during them are impossibly endearing. They manage to even bring a smile to Asura's lips, even if he's still sick (and will continue to be, for as long as he can tell). ] Then there are objects – weapons, for the most part – which function directly off of the raw magic fed into them.

Problem is, nothing I've come across could take the full brunt of the magic offered by an unbonded Witch. It'd have to be a big ol' monster, like the beast of a motorbike I've got back home, to withstand the amount of energy I've got to offer.

[ Pity, that Sokie hadn't the chance to glimpse the aforementioned motorbike before their sojourn in Venice had come to an end. But ah well—Asura, he's let that go in the here and now. Sokie's with him, and that's enough. ]

And while building a bike would be real fucking fun, that still isn't a feasible solution. [ Even if he's going to start collecting parts for such an endeavor, now that the idea's occurred to him. Who wants to be stuck with boats as their primary means of travel? Certainly not him! ] The stored Glamour could always be used as a later date. If you sink something into a magitech appliance, then it's used and gone for good, no different than if you expelled the magic yourself in a storm of evocation.

[ Just as he'd done only moments ago. He might've accidentally crisped up more than just the potted plant and left scorch-marks out in the yard. Whoops. ]

Guess there's no real way out of this shit predicament, huh? You either Bond, or you explode.

[ And look there, Asura's mimicking an explosion with a gesture of his hands, talons wiggling in the air to mimic pieces of glittering confetti, falling to the ground below. ]

Edited 2019-11-18 01:26 (UTC)

I think te problem isn't just that you're a unbonded witch, but a mirrorbound witch. From what I understand, we're making up for lost time at a rapid rate. In short, we're potent as hell.

[She does look intrigued, even excited at the idea of a motorbike. Riding on a hog, how exciting!]

I mean, you could get a familiar, but then Tink would get mad at you. And we can't afford suppressants, or to still them.

[She considered, tapping her remaining Apple against her hand. Then:]

Making weapons, defenses, and little makeup and helpers for our monster friends wouldn't be a terrible idea though.

Go completely old school rpg on them, though...Maybe try to make a small profit? So I can make an instant pot for pot roasts and French toast and such?

(Closed) Octeuril Catch All

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

when you don't have the icons so you just say to hell with it and use an unsuitable one

Legit

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject