→ o56 // video
[Natalia poses proudly, confidently, looking quite smug. She's wearing a bikini (bazooka not included).]
Nice, isn't it? Absolutely wonderful- jewel of Kimlasca, I think. Or perhaps more accurately, I know.
[She crosses her arms across her chest.]The Emperor could only hope to possess an allure like mine- like anyone in Kimlasca, really. I'd ( Read more... )
Nice, isn't it? Absolutely wonderful- jewel of Kimlasca, I think. Or perhaps more accurately, I know.
[She crosses her arms across her chest.]The Emperor could only hope to possess an allure like mine- like anyone in Kimlasca, really. I'd ( Read more... )
Or, all right, the guide had made some lame excuse after Asch had refused to pay, and he wasn't actually prepared to follow-through on a sword threat. Whatever.]
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You've found me, I see!
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What? [Sharp, irritated, confused, but-] I wasn't-
[Asch is interrupted by a most unusual event: his knees buckle. Something that doesn't happen without serious injury, and thus unexpected, he flings out a hand to grab something to stay upright-]
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[She gives a charming smile, all softness and radiance. She moves forward, wanting to help him up.]
Don't look away, not once. The pride of Kimlasca shall envelop us both.
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Instead, he can't look away. Not even once. Asch doesn't think with or use words like "captivating", but there it is, and so she is. "The pride of Kimlasca" -- if his heart was beating, it might have skipped.
Whatthehell--he takes her hand.]
N-Natalia...?
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Shh, Asch. It's all right. I'm here, now. You don't need to look anywhere else but me.
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It's been stuffed into a shoebox and sat upon by the cursed part, that which is currently quite dizzy. She smells beyond intoxicating. One last try!]
I don't need you to--
[Closer still, and she's still just wearing that bikini and certain parts are right against him and--
--
--
This is Natalia. Princess of Kimlasca. Asch essentially convulses, flings himself back, and staggers to his feet on his own with an arm thrown over his nose. The smell seeps through]
S-Stop it!
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and is rescued, in a sense, by his legs once again failing him. Down he goes!]
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[She rescues him heroically, all sparkles and power and confidence.]
Please, sit down. Shall I summon that creature again?
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No. No, don't bring that thing back. Just--
[Because it was a heinous monstrosity of pink? Or, because as he says just, all he wants to do is sit there with her, bracing a hand on her shoulder. Asch leans in, pressing, dipping his face to her neck, where it curved into shoulder uninterrupted by cloth.
His fingers dig tighter against her skin (so much skin), his other arm snakes around her, in a rigid embrace. Yeah- he might be dizzy, but his grip is firm and he clearly has no intention of letting her go anytime soon.
While he... smells her. Lips brushing her skin, but he's set on the inhale. Yeah. THIS WILL NEVER BE SPOKEN OF AGAIN.]
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But she is cursed, and she's all confidence and swagger. So she just presses even closer, as if allowing him to take all that he wanted from this embrace, smirking, smug and satisfied.]
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Breathing her in wasn't merely that of the heady mix of smells, that of the oil in Belkend and the heat radiating from the machinery, of the sun stained rock in the Meggiora Highlands. Of the sweat and anticipation, alcohol and crisp meat snacks in the coliseum. Of stands of imported fruit, of fresh baked bread and sugared pasties, of the new leather and metal crafted within Kimlasca. Of the salt and sea at the shore, of castle walls and the soap used on Natalia's clothing, her shampoo; his mother's perfume, always a weak scent.
It wasn't simply those, but context, but bare, smaller hands with calluses only beginning from initial sword practice. Palms against that sun-warmed rock, as he considered the highlands that would be his. The oil he rubbed between his fingers, the machine he was permitted to take apart and inspect, had to understand, to know Kimlasca and its fonmachinery prowess. Of sitting beside his ( ... )
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This is nice, don't you think?
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