• Mature • Courtship Rituals

1st of Ymiden 716

The capital city of the of Rynmere, here is seated the only King in Idalos.
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  • 1st of Ymiden, 716 Arc

    Life had carried on as normal, for the most part. Business in the shop had slowed considerably, to a point of... difficulty. Men no longer frequented nearly enough, those who figured out her identity afraid to offend a lord by talking to his wife to be. It was frustrating for the Biqaj, who had grown used to a streak of luck up until the engagement, but she refused to seek the aid of her betrothed. Hera was a prideful woman, and while Peake had promised her and her mother aid if they ever needed it... the redhead didn't want word spreading that she was someone who sought out gold like a hungry whore.

    Her mother played the part of mother-to-be quite well, spreading rumors of the young love, how pure and dedicated the two lovebirds were to one another. How sweet and kind the taxman had been to her daughter. It was quite funny, considering Hera hadn't seen her fiancè in ages. When asked about her love for the young noble, she let the imagination of others do the work for her, refusing to speak much on the subject. She found ways of dancing around questions, no longer sure what Peake had planned. Or who all listened.

    If he had sought her out, she did not know. For some time, she had spent almost all her time out and about, seeking the few expeditions as navigator she could find. Most were pisspoor jobs, helping idiots get their wares to places they shouldn't need to go anyway, but money was money. But now she was back, feet back on solid ground and ready to relax. She was tired of desperate fishermen eyeing her with a hunger in their eyes. The perks of being fake engaged meant they didn't paw at her any chance they got. The downside, was that she had to be on her best behavior as well.

    Today was the first of Ymiden, a celebration for Rynmere. Hera had returned from her latest excursion the night before and found a soft, foam green dress waiting in her room. It belonged to her mother some time ago, with a note saying she could borrow it, and Hera was happy to find the fabric thin and breathable. The back was more open, made no doubt for the warmer weather, and after a long soak to wash away the sea, slipped it on. Today, she let her hair down, drying in bright, natural curls and slipped on some leather sandals. The gold earrings hung faithfully from her ears and she kept her makeup simple.

    Shops all around town would be closed today for holiday, her family's included. It would allow for some down time, perhaps a chance to walk around town. Maybe, just maybe, she could buy a little treat for herself. Tidying up her things, she retrieved her purse and headed for the door.

    Today would be a good day.
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1st of Ymiden, 716 arc



The streets were strange on festive days. For some, it was an opportunity to escape the walls in which they were trapped within, while for others it was an opportunity to finally enter a home, an establishment, and lose themselves within either between bottles, friendly faces, or the legs of a woman. It was as if the wolves were sent into the barn and the chickens were left to stalk in the hills.

For Peake, it wasn’t a festive day. Tax collectors like him, specialized into creeping into the most elusive of individuals, were used to forgetting about resting on those rare days. The reason was quite simple: because they were the only ones. If a man working three jobs to support his girlfriend and her children didn’t pay taxes, on the festive day he was bound to return home to actually see that woman and those children. Losing themselves between those bottles, friendly faces and legs was the perfect opportunity to be found out by the ‘Debt Management’ of the Kingdom.

Fortunately, Peake didn’t deal with limping men supported by broken backs. He dealt with businessmen and women that didn’t bother to hide, but instead cheated with other methods like coin laundering or loopholes. It was a challenging job, reason why Peake enjoyed it so much beside the reputation that went along. If all he had to do was beat peasants up, he would’ve quit the job long ago as beating the less fortunate was already a hobby of his. It occupied way too much time, too.

Days like today and the moments like these after a successful capture were the best. Just this morning his co-workers and him, the so called ‘Children of the Lotus’, finally nailed an middle-town shoemaker that had been evading taxes on his three shops for three entire arcs. Perhaps it was because of that that his manor was filled with expensive fabrics and items that hypnotized. Which, of course, meant an immediate auction being carried out to pay everything owed to the Treasury of the City. While the businessman was rotting in the dungeon, the smart men and women of the city bought the poor man’s house for silver.

For that very reason, Peake’s grin couldn’t be any wider than it currently was. No man could ever say they’ve seen someone so pleased with themselves before. Despite the stress and the lack of sleep of the last week, today he felt like a King. Laying down on the stock purchased this morning, his horse lazily dragged the cart through the streets as the gigantic nobleman laid in a bed made of watermelons. The midday heat was not enough to suffocate the glory and satisfaction that emanated from the male. In truth, all that was needed was a quartet of musicians to blast out loud and ominous battle marches that further increased the sensation of victory, and perhaps an intense erection in his pants along with a woman to satisfy it while he relished in satisfaction. The erection was not present, but thankfully he was on his way to the docks, where one of the few women capable of satisfying him awaited for him. With caught breath, surely.

His fiancé has been ignored during most of the previous season, not because of choice but because of the circumstances. Most of his work days were focused during the middle of the season to free the latter days, and once his free days came through he used them up to instead climb positions in society. The Barony was confirmed to be his, his father already working on officially relaying the title to his son with bitterness, while Peake got used to working with the Ouroboro Guard and serving the King directly. The woman had simply slipped out of his mind. Now that he had found a moment for their play, Peake had even prepared gifts for the actors in the fantasy organized by all three. Seeing Syhera’s reaction to his gains was something he truly craved.

The air slowly turned damp, and the heat was amplified with the humidity of the docks, the smell of salt and fish slowly destroying the daydreaming in the male. The horse was halted by the carriage before them, the servants of House Andaris getting to work as they unloaded the merchandise and transporting it wherever its destination was. With a sigh, Peake struggled to stand up, his laziness not making it easy to once again be productive or presentable. Nonetheless, soon enough the undiagnosed giant was back on his feet and his powerful frame was once again in synch with his hardened features. Retrieving a closed wicker box and a rather big bouquet of colorful tulips, at last Peake headed towards the shop’s door.


‘Time to pay the taxes!’ yelled out Peake in a jest as he knocked on the door with two harsh kicks.
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  • 1st of Ymiden, 716 Arc

    Hera was heading for the door when fate decided to spin its web.

    A figure waltzed by the shop window, casting shadow on the curtains, and the movement caught Hera's dark eyes. She paused, and a voice that she had not heard in a very long time boomed loudly outside. It shocked the Biqaj and she hesitated from surprise. Peake had been the last person she had expected to hear from, but when she opened the door in a fluid motion, the good mood from her bath found itself directed at the man. He was offering her a game, and she wanted to play, "Tax time? But sir," Hera fought the smile tugging at her lips, and leaned lazily on the frame in feigned distress, placing a hand on her hip, "I am but a poor shop hand with nothing to offer. How ever shall I pay?"

    His figure cast a shadow over her much smaller frame and she looked up at his eyes, and then down at the item in his hands. Flowers in a beautiful bouquet reached out for her. She quirked a thin brow and smiled at the lilies. What was all this about? Hera was no stranger to gifts, but usually from men actually interested in her. Peake was playing his part well. Hera had given their engagement a lot of thought, mostly of how she was to recover from the ill fortune that had befallen on her, but as time passed, those opposed to the agreement had begun to quiet. It would only be a matter of time before she could find more navigation jobs, but her mother had whispered warnings into her ear. Gwynthera had been doing her best to make the engagement appear as real as ever, but people were starting to notice Peake's absence. There were always those that had something to say. Speaking of which...

    An ugly woman lingered in the street, watching Peake's back as he stood over her, and Hera found herself looking past him, noticing the onlooker. People couldn't help but stare when the lord came port side. The corners of her smile twitched, threatening to fall, but she snapped her attention back to the male and reached out to accept the flowers. With her other hand, she lightly tugged the fabric of his shirt towards her and closed the space between them, "No kiss for the diamond of your life?"

    Hera gave a little pout, tilting her head. If he kissed her, she would give a convincing performance, wrapping around him in the quick desperation of a denied lover. She would open her mouth, tasting his, and pull his now free hand to her chest. She would feel his confidence.

    There were so many interesting things. Something pressed into her body.

    "Another gift for me?" Hera whispered, pulling back to spot the wicker basket Peake held. She gave a wicked, little grin as she tucked the flowers under her arm and reached out for it. "I'm being spoiled today. Flowers, a present, and... The lunch I was promised long ago?" Hera purred, running a hand down the giant's back as she side stepped him and laid her eyes on the watermelons waiting. The other woman had begrudgingly moved along. With a curve of her mouth, Hera gathered the fabric of her skirt and propped herself on the back of the wagon. Her long legs dangled off the back and she kicked them gently as she set down everything and pulled a massive melon between her thighs. "Let's see if you're worth the wait," Hera mused deliberately, sparing a glance at her fiance as she tapped the rind with her fingernails, "Are you hungry, love?"
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Peake was no stranger to fake emotions shown before him. Being a lord, and now a Baron, meant someone always trying to find a way under the man’s armor. There was always a second face to everyone he interacted with, reason why perhaps he had grown so distrustful to those around him and why most of his life was spent either alone or in the arms of an anonymous woman. Everyone wanted the steak of power, and the world was always stuck in a state of famine that made them crave it with all their being.

Syhera was as pretty as he remembered, now that her door was open and her features once again invalidated Peake’s mental image of her. There was nothing like seeing a pretty woman in the flesh, no matter how many times a man had laid his eyes on her. Grinning at her jesting, Peake raised his brow as he played along.
“I must inform you, miss, that the Treasury of Andaris City has special payment plans for gorgeous women like yourself.” A chuckle escaped him, not being a very good actor himself.

The bouquet of flowers was well received, despite Syhera seeming like the type of woman that held no love for the gifts brought by men. However, what did throw him aback was the eagerness of the female towards him. A kiss? Last he remembered he had tried to grope her a few feet away from this very door, and she had denied him no matter how many eyes laid on them. Alas, he did not complain, and he leaned over for a quick kiss.

It wasn’t quick, as she quite desperately clanged onto him, the sweetness of her lips almost mesmerizing the man whom, for once, was at a loss. Nonetheless, he returned the eagerness, perhaps only regretting not being fast enough to grab her rear with his gigantic and rather perverted hand. Once she pulled apart, she was left to admire the puzzled face of the nobleman, a rather rare expression in him. Instead of commenting, he remained quiet, following her with his gaze that bordered between amused and annoyed. Syhera’s bizarre behavior made him feel slightly out of place, a sensation he disliked. For the moment, he was not relating the female with the sensation, doing his best to continue the play.

“Mmmmh, very hungry indeed. Nothing like eating a moist watermelon in a hot, sunny day.” Stepping before the female, staring at her from his height, his free hand slowly moved to sensually caress the rind of the watermelon held captive between the female’s thighs – if it was possible to transmit sensuality into a fruit, that is. At last, Peake halted his indecent and obvious hinting to instead address the second gift.

“So, we busted a man today for tax evasion and auctioned his belongings,” began Peake as he opened the wicker box. “and I saw something you might like. I know I haven’t visited much, so I thought I’d make it up to you.”

His hand penetrated the darkness of the box for a moment, and once the gift itself was safely gripped, he revealed the surprise. By his fingers hanged the flesh of a small feline, nothing but a kitten with sad eyes that gaped towards the redhead. It was beautiful.
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… In an abstract sense. The kitten itself didn’t posess a single hair on its body, its flesh being rough and full of wrinkles as if it was born a dozen arcs ago or was infected with some sort of disease. Furthermore, the expression of the mitten itself was obnoxiously bored and uninterested, almost as if an infinite amount of curses and harsh comments were trapped inside the diminutive skull of the pet. Hairless cats were not common, less than a dozen of them being in the Kingdom of Rynmere and being required to be imported from wherever it is they come from.

“There you go. These don’t grow any further and don’t weight. Only the finest ladies have one, and being as rare as they are, they are usually carried in a purse or on the shoulder.” The explanation, despite being logical and precise, was clearly not the reason he had purchased this animal for a good amount of gold. A wide grin appeared on Peake’s bearded features as the volume of his voice raised in amusement, commenting loudly. “I call him Foreskin! All yours!”

Peake, one of the King’s most trusted men, a soon-to-be Baron that would manage the lives of everyone in the port tried very hard not to burst into a childish laughter, looking closely at the expression of the female and how receptive she’d be to his childish humor.



Off Topic
-50 GN for watermelons, flowers, and the beautiful kitten. I charged 50 GN as a symbolic amount as I have no idea how to calculate it all.
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  • 1st of Ymiden, 716 Arc


    Hera straightened up when her fiance came closer, running his large hand up the watermelon between her legs. His puzzled expression quickly changed to something indeed hungrier, and had Hera been a lesser woman, perhaps she would have looked away. But Hera was bold, and not easily swayed, particularly when she had called it upon herself. She stared back with a smirk, and found it was Peake who changed the topic.

    Not often had men steered the subject away from juicy innuendos when she brought them up, but Peake wanted to tell her something. She could tell. The muscles of his back seemed tense, and he had the air of an excited child. When Hera looked at the wicker box again, she knew it was the cause. His excitement was infectious, and she found herself smiling as he started his story about work, and before she knew it, he was opening up the container.

    Expecting something most men brought her - jewelry, or a figurine, instead, what came out of the box was not nearly as pretty. It was perfect. Shocked, and never having seen anything quite like it, a hand rose to cover her mouth that had dropped considerably. She tried to think of something to describe the animal, but "cat" didn't seem to quite fit. Peake beamed at it proudly, like a child displaying a trophy and dropped it in her lap. It gave a sound somewhere between an annoyed snort and a meow, and Hera gasped.

    "I call him Foreskin! All yours!"

    A moment of silence as Hera watched it squirm atop the melon, its little nails barely scratching the surface. Wrinkles and a grumpy face, stared at her. Foreskin. The name brought up quite a bit of imagery, but when she looked at the creature, she could think of nothing else. The red head threw back her head and laughed until her stomach hurt, scooping up the tiny animal and cradling it gently against her chest.

    "A perfect name for a perfect gift," Hera finally said in Rakahi, switching between common, "I love him," She ran her fingers gently along its little head, the skin elastic and smooth over its tiny skull. Hera looked up at Peake and with a genuine smile said, "Thank you. I'm not sure what mama will say, but I am happy. Here," With some reluctance, Hera set down the hairless cat and it scurried over to lean against one of the melons in the cart. It watched with blue eyes, seemingly grumpy and pleased to be given some space.

    Hera shifted the watermelon from her lap, and looked about for a knife large enough to cut it, "I wasn't expecting you today. I haven't seen you in so long, I thought Gojira had gotten to you.' A smirk, but the truth was there. Worry flashed across her face briefly, but she leaned back, propping herself up on her arms and the expression relaxed, "What have you been up to, love? I'm not being summoned to some frou frou event, am I?"
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The laugh was healthy, and genuine as well. Peake’s childish nature didn’t have many occasions to escape him, but when it did it felt truly good. Perhaps he was never meant to grow up, or pretend to be an adult, as nothing in the world he lived gave him as much pleasure as a uncompromised laugh. Ready or not, now he was living in the real world, and moments like these are the ones that kept him going strong. It was an original gift, and despite being more of a joke than an actual gesture, Peake was happy that his fiancé enjoyed it. “You can change his name if you want, but nothing fits him quite as much. Remind me to forward you to a friend of mine. He breeds war dogs, but I bet he’ll tell you all you need to know about the cat.”

Peake’s brown eyes followed the confused creature as it tried to orientate itself in the world his wrinkled features seemed to dislike, his smile widened once more due to the innocence of the bald cat. After the cat came the female, whom was shuffling away from the game previously played. Reaching out for her wrist with his hand, he’d wrap his fingers around it as gently as he could and shook his head. “Uh-huh. You think I’m going to let you have lunch in a cart? I’ve got a place ready, come on.”

With his eyebrows he signaled towards the carriage, which the servants had unloaded and whose merchandise were distributed to the targets. Most of them were friends of Peake’s father, whom appreciated a gift once in a while due to their cooperation with the Barony and their business alliances. In a way, Peake was here only for those individuals. Now that the cart was left without someone to lay beside the watermelons, the servants would be responsible of taking it through the city towards the Andaris Manor, whose storage they had to saturate with Peake’s watermelons. “Grab the cat if you want and let’s go. I’ll explain on the way there, woman.” Peake offered a gentle and hairy smile to her, his appearance having aged a great deal in this last season. It was as if the one season had turned into one arc and then some, grey hairs and baggy-eyes not quite showing the same man.

Offering his arm to the woman like any Lord would, if she chose to accept it he would conduct her towards the carriage and open the door for her. “Stop worrying about Gojira, by the way. Now that I’m the Commander of the Ouroboro Guard and, you know, I work directly with the King, she won’t move a finger.” Not very subtly he slipped the information of his rise of power, clearly something he was proud of despite the drawbacks to his health. “Oh, and I’m officially receiving my Baron title within a dozen trials. It will be symbolic until I sort everything out, but this district is under my command.” A somewhat bitter smile appeared under the beard, an achievement that clearly meant a victory in the battle between father and son. Peake wanted to be there when his father signed the document, to stare in his face and rejoice in his own success.

Opening the door of the carriage and standing aside, he’d offer a hand to Syhera in case she needed help climbing the two steps of the luxurious transport. After all this struggle and effort having paid off, it was only this morning that he questioned himself as to what to do with Syhera itself. She wasn’t quite an disposable object, despite being a woman, but her aid had definitely waned. It was clear that Peake needed to be married to approach the higher titles, and he needed heirs to consolidate his claim. If that was true… Why Syhera?

He could marry a Baroness of a different house and forge relationships and alliances, gather allies to one day claim a title of Duke, and perhaps one day King. An arranged marriage now would be ten times more profitable than what it would’ve been last season. Last season he was a Lordling, a Lord Nobody. Now, he was to be one of the three barons of Andaris City, heart of the Kingdom. No longer his marriages would involve second-rate businesswomen or spoiled ladies. All of the proposals would come with lands, wealth, connections. Syhera had nothing to offer him, in that sense. Just thinking about marrying her brought the word ‘dishonor’ to his mind, just another stranger to be married but to not profit from.

Peake was always against marriage because it was something permanent. Compromising with someone was a great responsibility, a gamble. Trust, loyalty… There was no man or woman in this Kingdom that held Peake’s. For now, it appeared as it would never be anything but a game without end until one of them two got tired of playing.

“You’ll love this place, I promise.”
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  • 1st of Ymiden, 716 Arc


    "Everything's falling into place, then?"

    Hera slid free of the cart and scooped the kitten in her arms and left the flowers at her shop door. Peake continued to relay news of his prosperity, and Hera nodded in interest. She wasn't as well versed in political dealings, but she was able to follow along. "Overseeing this district?" Hera looked around at the simplicity of it, and knew just how much land and water that included. She had lived her almost her entire life, and was impressed to say the least. "My, my," she mused, "I'll have to be on my best behavior then."

    Money could get you so much and it took a lot not to be bitter. She took his arm, and hmm'ed at the mention of Gojira, "...hath no fury like a woman scorned," she sighed, wanting to believe him. If Gojira was smart, she would be able to find a way to get to them without it being tied to her. Hera had played similar games long ago, and knew how the world worked. She didn't want to damper on Peake's mood and let the topic go, despite feeling uneasy about it all. Hera was careful for a reason, never wanting to be bested by competition.

    Would the old woman pine for Peake harder now that he was going to be a baron or was he now out of her league? Hera looked up at Peake, and she wondered where she stood with the man. If Gojira was out of his league, what was she? The dirt beneath his shoe? The stain on his arm? She frowned, hating the thought of being seen so worthless, but since their engagement, she was sure the rumor mill thrived on calling her a courtesan. He would be free to drop her as he pleased soon enough, and he no doubt would. She just needed to stay in good enough graces until that day came.

    She readjusted her hold on Foreskin absentmindedly, and cleared her throat as she leaned against her guide, "Such a confident baron," she smiled, "I wait with bated breath."
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Climbing into the carriage after Syhera, Peake sat seat opposite the redhead. Giving her a wink and a courteous smirk, the servant was heard shuffling outside as he got into the driver’s seat. A yell and a tug from the reigns and the carriage began moving with increasing speed. The streets were easier to transit in this festive day, and so the delays were very few. Within the carriage, the luxury was visible, although no matter how expensive the fabrics and the details were, it was still a mere box in which the passengers waited to reach their destination.

Peake was quiet during most of the travel, staring out the window as he tried his best to find comfort in his seat and rest. The nobleman felt exhausted beyond words, and perhaps what tired him the most is that no matter how much he slept, drank, or fucked, he wouldn’t feel any better. The specific reasons about this were unknown to him, often just labeling it to work-related stress or the sudden increase in responsibility. However, he was suspicious enough about himself, sure that something else was bothering him. As for his company, every once in a while he’d glance towards the female, offer a meek smile followed usually by a wink before he returned to the landscaping. Foreskin was only addressed once, Peake having leaned forward in attempts of interacting with the ugly creature, which was replied with the feline trying to bite the thick finger in vain, spawning a curse from the male but also halting his attempts.

The city outside the windows eventually came to an end, the walls being left behind as instead the sunshine and the aromatic vineyards greeted the eyes of those interested in gaping outside. Soon enough, the road shifted into a rougher version. The cobblestone road lead to a dirt road, which increased the turbulences felt within the cabin, combining with the speed to perfectly simulate a harsh earthquake. Thankfully, a dry fist against the wall of the carriage made the driver slow down. The heat of the day was felt within the cabin, yet at last the sojourn came to an end.

“I think we’re here.” Said Peake in a sigh, opening the carriage’s door, which immediately cooled down the transport, the heat dissipating as the incoming winds cleansed everything within. Peake was the first to exit, immediately after offering a hand for his lady to exit safely.

Behind them stood a hill which the transport had just overpowered, but before them awaited the sight of the ocean as the decline was just exposing the eastern end of the island. On their right, long in the distance, the stone city waited like a monument. All around them vineyards and farms alike stood watch, silent and deserted in the Yimiden weather, or at least in this particular day. Endless hills and slopes made an ocean in themselves, the crops and flowers grown for each family’s taste made the sight worthy of a picture – at least in Peake’s opinion. The parcel in which they had halted was different than the others – it was truly deserted. Nothing was being grown, no instruments were present. It was fenced, and the grass was mowed recently with a scythe, yet it was clear that whoever owned it was not interested in investing in it despite the obvious fertility.

In truth, this parcel was supposed to belong to Peake. When his mother gave birth, each of her children got a piece of land to one day work on their own. Quincy got his, now being in charge of the Andaris Winery, yet Peake was never officially given his parcel. Perhaps it was because of the issues between his father and him, the distance that had split them apart from an early age that had made Benji never inclined to pamper his firstborn. Nevertheless, Peake sometimes escaped to this location and worked it, even picking up a scythe to cut down the grass in extremely rare occasions. Considering last time he had done that his beard was non-existent, it was clear just how rare those occasions were.

Out there, in the middle of the parcel laid a large umbrella, some colorful blankets covering the grass and multiple baskets that held lunch. From such a location, gazing at the distant waves was easy.
“Take no offense, but I felt I needed to get away as much as possible from that port of yours. Fish is not something I really like, and the smell haunts me.” A scoff. “Come on, before the sun toasts us.”
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  • 1st of Ymiden, 716 Arc

    Hera was not often given a chance to ride in style, and she had never actually been inside a carraige. On the back of a wagon, sure, but in cushioned seats with windows, not so much. The petite female climbed in, carefully placing a sandaled foot on the step and using Peake for stability as she dipped inside the transport. The inside was nicely decorated, with small embroidered curtains hanging by the square cut outs. The inside was perhaps a bit stuffy, but setting the kitten beside her, she found it to be spacious enough.

    Peake climbed in behind her, sitting opposite, and her eyes began to roam the cabin -- to the ceiling, and decorative designs lining it, to the smaller details, like the delicate curve of the handle and trim. Beside her, Foreskin seemed displeased, not happy with all the travelling and excitement and he curled himself tightly into a ball, with his spindly tail wrapped around his thin body. Silence enveloped the small space, and Hera grabbed the wall for support as the vehicle jerked to life and found a ambling rhythm. Her body bounced with the turn of the wheels, and she crossed her arms, feeling her chest begin to jiggle from the movement.

    Her fiance remained quiet, lost in thought and Hera returned his small smiles with her own, and leaned against the wall to look out the window. The scenery passed quickly, the streets rolling by and the buildings blending together. To live like this... your whole life... It must be very easy for those pompous lords to get fat bellies. A glance at Peake, imagining him with a round frame made her smirk, and she watched him reach out to touch Foreskin.

    The cat was being pissy, and tried to nip at the baron to be. Hera raised an eyebrow, but Peake took the hint and removed his hand. No means no, after all. Hera smiled at the interaction, and closed her eyes as the rocking of the carraige relaxed her. Her hands soon lowered into her lap and she sighed softly, her breathing slowing. She was nearly asleep when the pace changed and started rousing her again. A fist knocked once, signalling a stop and Hera sat up. She arched her back and stretched lazily, yawning when they came to a stop. When Peake climbed out, she followed suit, reaching for his offered hand and lowering herself to the ground. She turned once to look at the cat who had not moved, and a moment of pity struck her. She hesitated following behind her fiance, despite the beautiful scenery that awaited and knew if she tried to move the kitten, he would surely strike.

    Instead, she shyly meandered up to the driver who was still perched on his seat, rummaging in the pack by his side, "Excuse me," Hera began, completely inexperienced in giving orders. She supposed she was partly expected to, being the arm candy for a rising lord, but her words came out more as a request than anything, "My kitten is sitting in the cabin. I was wondering- well... Look after him, won't you? Just make sure he doesn't overheat or anything. If he needs water, or anything-"

    The carriage driver gave her a curious look, but nodded, "he's in good hands, miss. I won't let a hair on his body be harmed."

    Hera gave a small laugh, not quite explaining, but thanked him and went to return to Peake's side. Before him was a field of well maintained grass, and the fresh air. The water was a ways off, but nicely visible and colorful blankets laid expectant, waiting for them. Peake didn't strike her as the romantic type, but he had been doing pretty well for himself today. Hera smiled at the sight and listened as Peake remarked on the docks.

    She returned his scoff with a light one of her own, "It's not my anything. If I recall, someone I know is in charge of them now," Hera tapped her chin, feigning memory loss, "Oh, what was his name again? ...It's on the tip of my tongue."

    The redhead grinned, nudging the man beside her and stuck her tongue out at him like a child, "As for the fish... You're a lord of so much, but can't have a whore take a bath?" Hera's voice showed no indication of irritation or jealousy at the thought of Peake sleeping with other women, and her smile was still carefree as she dipped beneath the umbrella onto the lavish bed of blankets.

    Kicking off her shoes she bent over to pluck a stray wildflower and stretched to feel the grass between her toes. The heat was lessened being so close to the water, and the shade would be a nice reprise. Hills of fertile land rolled before them, and the whole place was beautiful. But it was quiet, empty... lonely. Hera took a deep breath of the clean air and wandered around under the bright sun. Hair illuminated to a bright red from the light, she let the sun wash over and basked in its warmth. It didn't take long before she was at the blankets, propped up on an elbow and lifting the lid to one of the lunch baskets, "I wonder what lords eat for lunch," Hera spotted more watermelon and quickly realized what Peake's favorite food must be. How funny her little stunt earlier must have been, "So much to enjoy, so little time."
word count: 934
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Peake
Approved Character
Posts: 333
Joined: Mon Apr 18, 2016 2:17 am
Race: Human
Profession: A**hole
Renown: -60
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Taking a moment to stretch out while Syhera interacted with the servant, the ocean breeze cleansed Peake of any remaining heat from the carriage. If he knew his body correctly, he would soon start sweating once again, a rather disgusting trait that had started to manifest the last few dozen weeks and surely another of the consequences of his deteriorated health. The world of politics was something he was certainly not ready for, and something that his body had rejected completely. Standing there and listening to all those vultures trying to sway the King one direction or the other was sickening, but watching the boy-king itself be swayed like a flag was nauseous. It was up to Peake to then confront said boy and do his best to force some sense into him, yet doing so without violence or harshness. Otherwise, Peake would soon find himself in the Arena like the last Lord Commander.

His responses to most of the female’s remarks were smirks or uneager scoffs, still partially lost in thought to fully listen to her, although the comment about the whores reached him very clearly. To him, her tone dripped in judgement, something he disliked quite a lot. Taking the higher road was for idiots, so instead Peake spoke his mind.

“Maybe if my supposed fiancé spent more time at home and less boarding ships I wouldn’t need to find any whores. I bet you’ve been tasting quite the amount of fish sticks in your travels.” Peake’s words were both crude and cruel, yet he tried his best to sound as amicable as possible. Maybe the mood could still be saved.

Peake was a very jealous man, for a lack of a better word. The thought of someone touching his property without his express permission was a grave offence he rarely forgave without a beating, and in that sense Syhera belonged to him. Just by this arrangement of theirs he had given her the key to a lot of opportunities to escape her poverty, and it was only fair to expect a royal treatment from her. Even if the arrangement was fake, his childish and possessive nature didn’t allow him to offer a hint of fairness.

Taking a seat on the blankets, remaining entirely on the shade, his eyes jumped to the female whom ravished in the sunlight and the landscape alike. He liked it, or at least he liked that she liked it. Romantic was not a word used to describe him, clearly shown by his lack of interest about the landscape or the spot itself. It was a good spot to take a nap every once in a while, to work on something that didn’t involve beating a man or a woman to the ground, or to seduce women. He may not be a romantic, but he knew what women considerate romantic, reason why his history of relationships was as rich as it was. Besides the economic investments he had made, that is. Once she entered the shade and made herself comfortable, he rose his brow and a light smile returned to him. It was only widened by her comment.

“Lords eat the same food as everyone else, but are charged triple because they are brought in a fancy plate. We pay for the plate, and we can’t even take it home... And these don’t even one.” Peake reached out to each of the baskets, opening every last one of them to reveal the contents. Besides the obvious watermelon and wine, there was an entire selection of light meals. Corn wheels with lime, tartlets with cheese and tomato, cookies… Way too much for the both of them, especially now that Peake was paranoid about his increasing levels of fat in his body. This occasion was meant to be a stress relief, which would maybe allow him to return to normality.

“I brought my first date ever right here when I was young. We had been dating for almost thirty trials, and so I was eager to experience my first kiss. We spoke for three breaks, watched the sun hide on the horizon, and I finally gathered the courage to lean in for a kiss.” Peake narrated the old tale as he extracted a tartlet. “She beat me so hard I woke up the next day. She was the first to break one of my teeth.” Chuckling, once the laughter faded, Peake squinted to the female. “So no, there’s plenty of time ahead. Just enjoy the weather, the view and the food. That’s all I ask from you.”

Another wink by his part before he tossed the tartlet into his mouth, losing himself in the delicious cheese. If it was up for him, he would’ve grabbed the melon and smashed it against his knee before he slurped at the remains, but since he was expected to be educated, he left the sweetest dessert for last.
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