It just registered to me that Illy mentioned Farzhis and Induul might be on the outs, and that I hadn’t even registered the fact that she wasn’t here. I don’t know the team well enough to know if they’re always together. Well, no, scratch that, Illy hung out with Teuila on her own the other night. I guess I just didn’t even register the lack of the presence of the incredibly lovely blue-hued woman. It’s one of those weird things, where I’m getting pissed off at myself for noticing physical attractiveness and stuff, and then I remember, I don’t immediately leap at every single person I find attractive. I sometimes barely even more than note their existence.
Maybe I could cut myself a bit of slack about the whole thing. Between the whammy managing to strike me on a person I’d have been attracted to anyway, and the actual undeniable attractiveness of a godly being like Kinzul, and her equally attractive daughter Iylynila, I’m really not obsessing over physical features as much as I berate myself for. I mean, Ixeyla and Xayla are attractive in a fashion, and Xayla’s got really pretty hair, and I truly enjoyed being around her, but I didn’t obsess over it. Similarly, like Illy pointed out, some of the other slender Draconiacs or human-form dragons in the Order actually are sort of my type visually aesthetically speaking, yet I’m not obsessing over them either. Farzhis is gorgeous as hell, but I haven’t really desired to even get to know her. Heck, Nala is a very pretty, slender, gangly, lovely copper-scaled Draconiac woman, and I just want to shelve books alongside her.
Maybe I could forgive myself for being flustered and enjoying the visual appeal of three incredibly attractive women? I think I’d be less surly about the teasing at that point too. I mean, I do actually rather enjoy it. I’ve just been in a really bad headspace today. I hope that I can let myself just *be* tomorrow. I hope Luni and Teuila forgive me for, well, I guess they did already. I need to stop hanging onto it and let it go. I loose a sigh, not quite relief, not quite exasperation, but somewhere inbetween.
I find myself seated, being squeezed in the crook of Iylynila’s right arm, while Teuila is cuddled up on Illy’s left side, under her other arm. Illy passes me a look that’s somewhere between asking for forgiveness, and checking if I’m alright. My facial muscles have apparently been tensed up so hard that my jaw is painfully locked, and I’m getting a tension headache, but I don’t want to miss this opportunity.
Flexing my jaw for a second, and trying not to yawn in her face, I flash Illy a warm smile, and lean up to peck her softly on her cheek. Once I’ve done what I hope clears the air between us, I lay my head contentedly where she guides it with her hand to settle across the front of her right shoulder, just above her chest. She’s obviously angled my face to stare down her cleavage, but I’m just going to try to enjoy the flirty fun of it.
Illy’s got Teuila pawing her a bit as Teuila tries to keep snuggling closer, but is unable to make progress due to the laws of reality preventing two bodies occupying the same space. The desperate snugglification seems to honestly amuse Iylynila as she squeezes Teuila tightly. I’m starting to realize something about this place, something about the events from the last few days. I can’t quite place it, but perhaps after we’ve eaten and sat for a while it might come to me.
Dinner flows by quickly, feasting with friends and strangers that are aiding our cause, and my grand schemes. I’m happy to refill the cauldron with water magic several times. There’s a frenetic energy in the air as the date of our first offensive fast approaches, and I can see it bringing emotions to a boil. People are beginning to either lash out, or latch on, or in some cases, both. We have one more day of calm before the storm, and the most active members of the Order are going to be experiencing a whole new way of interacting with each other during that day.
I think that the charge permeating the air, the romantic or otherwise tension, is because of the coming storm. People are worried. Some of us might not even make it home from the very first offensive of what is likely to be at the very least a few months of war. The few months is just the latest point at which Terrorzin likely dies, not necessarily when all of the apocalypses stop, or even his faction stops trying to carry out his will. As much as we’re meeting new friends for the first time, we’re also clinging for dear life, or saying unspoken goodbyes. Now that it’s finally sinking in, I feel bad for being down on myself, and for being upset at the others for the teasing, and the attraction.
It’s much harder to fault Illy now, for pursuing one of her favorite interests, as I think of the looming threat. Supposing she wants to risk affection with Teuila, despite feeling bad about stringing her along, I would want her to chase that. In any other headspace, or if I had recognized the anticipatory anxious energies in the air earlier, I would probably have handled many things differently. I suppose I can see why Spymaster was willing to flaunt her form, and flirt with me, since we’re about to enter all out war. I feel bad for the cynical side of me that held her in suspicion, when the obvious answer was that she, like anyone else, was scared she’d die with regrets.
Regrets. Phooph. That’s hard to think about. If, minutes before the first battle, Kinzul said to me that she wanted to take me up on my offer, I wouldn’t shy away, or be ashamed, or embarrassed. I’d be happy to share my family with her, in case it should be any of our last moments. I have to remember that we’ve already started dying. We’re openly at war as conflict is beginning to rise to a head, and the dragonkin in Mount Solace have been tentatively at war with Terrorzin’s faction for generations.
I’m suddenly all the fonder of everyone I’ve met, and I’m silently rueing not having been able to meet and form bonds with everyone. There are thousands of people living within this mountain and the minor foothills in the region, under Kinzul’s protection, or the banner of the Onyx Dawn. I’d never have had time for all of them, but I haven’t even had time to meet all the major players. I suppose that that changes tomorrow. Every major player will have my hands upon them for eight minutes of the day, at the very least. Let’s just put that idea aside for now though.
Is there anything else we can do while we’re wrapping up dinner? I don’t quite have the wherewithal to just hope that going up to the shop, and ordering its entire limited inventory as an esoteric concept might be fruitful. Even if it did work, and didn’t crush us under the weight of whatever materialized, it could very well cost all the wealth we’ve ever gathered. There’s no telling if something costs a billion gems worth of currency in someone’s catalogue, especially since the shops are producing things that they never had before, and weren’t in any catalogue on Can’Z’aas.
We’re investing a huge sum of the gems to try to produce gem nodes in a respawning warren, and we’ll be using even more for me to try to hit all of the initial nodes with a permanency enhancement enchantment. That’s not even to mention the dozens of pounds of gem dust I’m going to need for the telepathic bonds tomorrow.
I know that Lady Kinzul has faith in me, and approved the investments, and that honestly, we’re providing ninety nine percent of the gems from our Can’Z’aasian inventories, but I still worry. If any of this doesn’t take off, if it backfires somehow, this could be a monumental waste of resources, or even a catastrophic loss. If we just used the resources we brought from Can’Z’aas, we’d have a lot, an absolute truckload, hell, dozens of truckloads of materials and wealth. We’re betting the farm on the magic layout not just absorbing the invested resources.
Teuila starts snoring, and at first I think it’s a ploy to have Iylynila pull Te closer to her breast, but she seems honestly tuckered out. I can’t blame her. Today was an emotional roller coaster, and those weigh heavily on Teuila. Lucky, Lil, and Lu are similarly curled up nearby, napping, the two cuddled up against Lucky in their human forms. Illy is starting to look uncomfortable as Teuila begins to drool at the top of her chest, so I flick my head towards Lil and Lu. Illy nods and we stand up, carefully carrying my beloved Te to set her snuggling against the rest of my inner circle.
It being far too early in the evening to let myself go to sleep, I tug Illy by the hand towards our private vaults. She doesn’t hesitate to follow into privacy at all, yet as we turn a darkened corner, I can see her breath catch momentarily, and I sense her pulse quicken through her hand. I flash her a wry smirk, knowing exactly where her mind is going. I should ask her if she’s read a bunch of smutty romance novels or something. That’s probably where she got most of this interest from.
Illy teases, “Wow Schism, I didn’t expect you to make the first move.”
I play it a bit mean as I respond, “Hardly, I want to get more done today. Maybe tomorrow. Hm, I was torn between that, and in your dreams love. Which one makes your pulse quicken? Ah, the dreams one. Yes, I can sense your pulse.”
Iylynila’s heart rate skyrockets at the thought that I might be reading her on such an intimate level. Technically, I am. Her eyes flash momentarily wide, but after not too long, she composes herself to answer, “Yeah, the second one’s got subtext. First was just a flat refusal. So, looking forward to tomorrow are you?”
Maintaining my smirk, I return in kind, “I don’t know, might depend on your answer. Are you?”
Oh, I can see why people enjoy doing this. Feeling that response, seeing the recognition in her face as she tries to hide her reaction to what her imagination is feeding her? It’s pretty cute. I do admit though, that it’s kind of a feedback loop, and I’m getting a tad excited and anticipatory myself of the next volley.
She tries to play it casually by declaring, “I suppose I could be convinced to be. But alright, dish, why *are* we in private?”
I can’t help myself as I squeeze her hand, look her deeply in the eyes, and tease, “What, isn’t this reason enough?”
The flutter-beat of her heart at that was amazing, but I need to quickly let Illy off the hook, so I clarify, “This being a chance to check through our private hoard, for magical gear, stuff that can help keep our loved ones safe.”
Iylynila flusters and she looks like she’d like to start slapping my shoulder in protest of the rapid buildup and its all too quick de-escalation. She manages to hide her pout after it plays across her face for only an instant. Scratching the back of her head, she offers, “I guess you got me beat Schism, that was a good one. I lost steam, momentum. Okay. Show me whacha got.”
I pull a Teuila and waggle my brow at her, smirking before I turn away from her to enter deeper into my hoard. I’d swear I heard the slightest peep from her, some noise of startlement. I keep my back to Illy as I wend my way through completely random odds and ends, trying to find things that aren’t soulbound. I’m tempted to offer her the same thing I offered her mother, just to see if the system of our world considered her a Shellcracker if we made it official somehow.
Oh hello. What do we have here? There’s a gown whose very fabric seems to shift in radiant hues while gazing upon it. It’s cut low in the front, and lower in the back, with spaghetti straps. The bodice seems to favor staying in rich, royal hues, mostly purples. Even as I observe it, it shimmers and seems to cast a thousand tiny rainbows in the near pitch-black rear of the chamber. The fabric looks softer than silk, and lighter than gossamer, and its contours seem fit for an exquisite body. I can’t help but eye my current partner in crime as it were, whose body is exactly that. Exquisite.
Iylynila gasps at the dress as she turns a corner and it enters her view. She pauses for several beats, stilling her quickened breathing and heart rate before she asks, “You just wanted to see me naked didn’t you?”
I snort a laugh as I respond, “As absolutely stunning as you are, no, I had no idea this was in here, and I wouldn’t ask you to change in front of me.” I can’t resist adding in a very salacious tease, “Unless you *wanted* to.”
Illy fights the smirk that keeps trying to play its way across her face. When she finally has control over her features again, she asks, “Really though Schism, why bring me here? What am I adding to your search?”
I loose a contented sigh as I stare at her, smiling and shaking my head. Making sure we’re holding hands, I take care to answer, “Illy, you’re one of the people I love, dummy.”
I feel like I need to remind her what I’m talking about, “If we can find something in here that you’d wear, and use, that could save your life, I’d die happy knowing you had it. I want my loved ones safe. If you want to use this opportunity to flaunt your absolutely amazing body, by all means, go ahead. I dare say I’m pretty certain I can tell you in advance that I’d enjoy it.”
The wind seems to go out of Iylynila’s sails that keep her on the teasing tides. She seems adrift momentarily, rudderless, as she tries to parse how to handle this, and me. After a brief sigh, she wears a half-sad smile before responding, “You’re somethin’ else. You know that Schism? I meant it, about tomorrow. In the eve, after everything is done. Maybe. A big maybe. Maybe tomorrow. I—. I’m almost positive none of you are going to die on the first assault, but that doesn’t stop me worrying. I hate that it’s the Vivvies going with you, and not us, but they make more sense for ground hordes out in the open. Dormir specializes in tighter spaces, behind the lines.”
Illy’s free hand brushes a crystalline globe, and the event that transpires leaves us gasping for breath as we return to our senses. We only return from the realm, the vision, an instant after Illy’s hand in motion passed the apex of its swing, leaving contact with the globe.
Between gasping breaths, Illy asks, “Did you just? Did I just?”
Gulping, I pat myself down, realizing I’m no longer— or rather, I’m still—. Our chests heave with exertion from the intensity of the event we seemed to have witnessed. We both stare at our interlaced hands, perhaps unsure just how swiftly we should yank them away without hurting the other. Or perhaps Illy isn’t feeling like drawing her hand away in embarrassment. She simply stares at our held hands.
Iylynila pants, and swallows dry knots of air, still struggling to breathe. She asks, “Should, should we tell anyone about this? In a book, they’d be all, let’s never speak of this, and rip their hands away shamefully. I’m not ashamed Schism.”
My eyes flit back and forth from our locked hand, to her onyx eyes that are working their way back towards ravenous. I quickly draw her hand to my face to kiss it, blocking her view of my eyes momentarily. Struggling to calm myself, I pass a breath through nearly pursed lips with puffed cheeks several times. I realize that I appear to be blowing juvenile kisses, and quickly stop.
I feel intense desire to stare into the orbs that glint with an appetite to take me in, but I resist as I try to rationalize, “We, well, may not have any choice in the matter. Remember, your mother hears every thought that goes through my head.”
Iylynila’s midnight-sky face pales, and then flushes. She grumbles her complaint through a pout, “You did not just broadcast us to my mother.”
Blushing, I declare my uncertainty, “Well, I’m not sure. There was sort of a click, before the, um, event. I think it was the psychic networks going out, because I don’t think as much time actually passed. I’ve been working very, very hard to keep my thoughts vague, since the, um, event.”
The pout on Illy’s face transforms into a frown as she bemoans, “You really know how to ruin a gal’s fun, don’t you?”
Before I can even show how abashed I feel, Illy switches tacks and flashes me a lascivious glance with brows peaked from piqued curiosity. I gulp as she salaciously asks, “So, come on, how do I compare?”
I fight every muscle in my face, struggling to remain neutral as I blush slightly beyond my control. I’m not sure if I should play dumb, play along, or play with her. I guess I’ll go with option three as I tease, “That my dear, would be telling.”
The ever-so-slight jaw-drop that I get, and the moue upon her face is almost priceless. Finally back to our normal selves, Illy admits, “Oh you’re good.”
I wink, unable to help myself as I retort with a far too confident for how I feel, “I know.”
The priceless expression reappears on her face, and Iylynila playfully slaps my shoulder. I can see her expression torn between fuming, and giving in to laughter. Thankfully we’ve left all of the, um, other emotions, from the event, behind.
I need to remember to cover that crystalline orb later. At least, I hope that’s what it was. Otherwise—. Assessing the other option, I take in Iylynila’s exquisite form, from her picturesque face, down every supple curve, entirely aware how she has subtly morphed her clothing over the last ten or twenty minutes, exposing more skin, shaping and supporting her curves even further towards perfection. Yeah. She’s right about—. Breathe Air, breathe.
Illy tugs on the hands that we’ve still got intertwined with each other’s, and I relent as she pulls me close. I can detect the flutter of her heart, and the barely perceptible steady increase of its rhythm. She expresses, “Schism. Thank you. That was you, right? All you, what you would have done?”
I nod my affirmation, so Illy simply holds me tightly. She mutters a long drawn out, complaintive, “Fuuuuuuuuuu—,” but cuts out before finishing. Perhaps because she remembers her mother is almost always aware of my psychic wavelength, or perhaps she just thought better of it.
We both start chuckling. Illy comments, “Maybe that’s enough looking at artifacts for tonight. Though I wouldn’t mind staying in private if you’re up for it.”
I hesitate, and Iylynila picks up on it immediately, so she offers, “It’s okay. Maybe tomorrow Schism.”
Only, as she turns to walk away, our fingers are still interlaced, and I don’t let go. I catch the flutter in her pulse, and I struggle to maintain my own heart rate and breathing as I respond, “I’d be honored to spend the rest of the night with you. We have a room with textiles. We can find somewhere soft, just to relax. It’s mostly private, unless someone decides to explore.”
Those perfectly soft, ever-so-slightly plump lips curve upwards in a smile before she responds, “Sure Schism, let’s go cuddle or something.”