[RQ] [SE] playing dirty

is this the end of all the endings?

The Sugartide sways as far into the Oerwoud’s jungle as it dares before the trees swallow her whole. Even with her sails tied and her hull resting against the canopy, the air is so thick with mist and heat that it feels like stepping into a heartbeat; alive and unrelenting. Flora braces herself against the rail, curls sticking to her temples, before she grabs hold of the rope ladder and climbs down.

Her boots sink almost instantly, the glossy leather darkening with muck. They reach nearly to her knees; a rare concession to practicality, given the jungle’s appetite for skin and shoes alike. The rest of her outfit is light and breathable, cropped and rolled and tied in all the right places; still, the humidity clings like a jealous lover. Gold glints faintly at her wrists and throat, dulled by the haze.

"Gods, I forgot how wet this place gets," she calls back toward Kaisel, her voice almost lost beneath the hum of insects. "We used to get the weirdest memory mud in the Greatwood. It’d crawl into your shoes, your hair, your lunch." She steps over a mass of vines that shift lazily underfoot, testing her weight like something alive.

Spice flits just ahead, her white scales reflecting green as the dragon lets out an indignant chirp at a squelching noise nearby. A glob of mud, almost friendly in its persistence, wobbles toward them with what might be enthusiasm. Flora laughs under her breath, squatting to poke at it with a stick. "Back then, Enzo and Mateo and I used to build monsters out of memory snow. Whole armies of them. When the thaw came, we’d watch to see whose creatures survived the longest once they turned to this stuff." She lifts her stick and flicks a bit of mud off it, grinning at the memory. "Does Stormbreak get much memory mud?"

my broken bones are mending

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //

His frown has deepened the further in they've sailed, leaning back a few times from the rails as leaves have pressed in far too comfortably on his personal space, like a mouth breather in an elevator that stands in the center instead of a corner like a sane person. He even swats at one after it tickles his ear, ducking out from under it with a scowl. He is a city boy after all, and nature as something beautiful and fun to see and explore has always been a bit of a strange idea to him. He prefers it a bit tamed, controlled with paths and rules that keep the leaves firmly away from his face.

Adding to the list of things he's not impressed by, the air shouldn't practically be chewable. It's no wonder no one lives here, it's terrible.

Climbing down after her, his frown deepens into a groaned "yuck" as the mud slurps up his legs. He's dressed for battle, decked out in his soldier garb, because while no fan of nature, this is not his first mission into the wilderness. It doesn't keep the weirdly warm (but also cold, deeper down?) grasp of the ground slurry around his legs from being any less disgusting though as it instantly dirties his boots and pants. "Ew, your lunch? You ever eat any by mistake?" His features scrunch at the idea of opening up a lunchbox and finding a quivering lump of mud lurking instead.

Like a dog that's never worn booties before, and is now, he picks his feet up high and creeps forward carefully, spinning around at times as he tries to scout out the best path. Flora's laugh draws his eye her way, abandoning the daggers he's glaring at the jungle to see what could be worth inspiring that sound, only to see a wriggling mound like sentient pudding in front of her. "Now that sounds cool," he relents with a touch of a smile edging in.

He creeps closer towards her, skating over some slicker ground for a moment that has his eyes widening with worry. He catches himself though, arms outstretched, knees bending like he's on a trapeze. "No," he answers, head shaking faintly, now that he's steadied. "Not much dirt or mud around, to be honest. Lots of stone. No memory stone that I know of though." His smile widens a touch though. "Although, memory stone would have been awesome. Imagine part of a building just getting up and walking away after construction is done." He imitates two fingers walking over the flat palm of his other hand. "Super annoying, especially if you're a builder, but that woulda been fun." He shrugs at the missed opportunity. "Koa, Noe, and I would sometimes go out and play with the memory snow stuff though. But usually growing up it was all about climbing shit. When I got older, we used to sail with reeeeally big kites from little floating rocks to others."

Kaisel

// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //

is this the end of all the endings?

Flora snickers under her breath, shooting him a smile that’s half-daring, half-adoring as she watches him wage war against the jungle like it’s a personal affront. It’s endlessly funny, the two of them side by side here; her, raised half-feral in the Greatwood, comfortable with mud under her fingernails and roots in her hair, and him, a city boy who probably grew up dodging wagons and trying not to scuff his boots before curfew with an overly strict set of parents who actually cared about where he was.

"Duh," she laughs, rolling her eyes with exaggerated flair. "Who hasn’t eaten a bit of mud by mistake once or twice?" She gestures toward the squelching ooze with mock solemnity. "Adds grit. Builds character."

Watching him pick his way through the vines like a cat on wet tile, she grins wider, the corners of her mouth softening with affection. "Next Deepfrost, I'll show you. We'll do some competitive snow-dinosaur sculpting, and when Flowerbirth rolls around, we’ll come back and see whose monster still stands."

Her laugh rings through the dripping leaves, catching somewhere between teasing and fond as she steps over a tangle of vines that squirm sluggishly beneath her boots. "Mmm, memory stone sounds like the worst! Imagine spending all that time building something, just for half your house to remember it’s supposed to be somewhere else and walk off." She gestures ahead, mimicking his finger-walking motion with mock gravity before giving up and snorting. "No thanks. I’ll take my haunted mud over self-aware masonry any day."

Flora pauses to let Kai catch up, wiping a smear of humidity from her cheek with the back of her wrist. When he mentions the kites, though, her brows lift, interest flashing bright in her eyes. "Wait—you actually flew? That's so cool." Her grin turns mischievous. "Do you think we're too big to do it now? Because that sounds like so much fun." She pushes a low branch out of the way, stepping lightly over a writhing vine that seems to sigh under her weight. "Assuming," she adds with a smirk, "we can actually go into Stormbreak without one of us causing more political unrest with Zavien." The laugh that follows is warm and unbothered, the kind that spills from her like sunlight through rain.

my broken bones are mending

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //

He shoots her a wild look, like she's just suggested something as absurd as needing to bring sunglasses to an underground rave. "Most people!" he crows, certain that he has not. "Eating mud is not normal." It had certainly never been a risk in Stormbreak. "I bet that's why you have such a filthy mouth." The sly slant that had taken over his features as the phrase came to him breaks out into a boyish laugh, light and ringing with easy amusement.

Concentrating back on his movements to close their distance, her offer rings out while he's evaluating a particularly slithery looking section of vine. "Deal!" he agrees, sealing the adventure into place along with all their other plans of things to do. "My monster will totally beat yours up." Said with the conviction of someone who has never built said monster, but sometimes all you need is delusion.

He's lost track of what moisture belongs to him, the air, or the plants. It's all gathered on him by now, beading on skin and dropping off every so often where it hasn't soaked into his hair or his clothes. It hardly seems to matter though when she's eagerly indulging him and his mythical issues. That's how it always with her. Everything is improved, even untamed jungles, because of her. His laugh echoes in behind hers, especially as her fingers walk a house away. "Yeah, but a house that can walk and has a few thoughts sounds like it could be neat. Just pick it up and go wherever you want. Like camping, but without all the bad parts." Glamping.

Joining her side after shaking off a vine that wound around his arm when he wasn't looking, he nods with a bright expression to match hers. "Yeah! Way more fun than flying on a skyship, although more dangerous too.". Definitely not Kaisel parent approved. Few fun things were. "I would think we'd just need a bigger kite," he considers seriously, thoughtful as he reaches to catch the branch she's pushed back. The vine pulses under his step, and he takes a quick half-step forward to get off it.

A dismissive snort escapes him at the idea of Zavien butting heads with them again. "I'll just avoid the steam rooms. You only go there when you're tired, not a great place to have a chat, evidently." And while she can laugh about it, the sound tugging a bit on his lips, happy enough to put the issue to bed, he still rolls his eyes mildly over the whole thing. Zavien's threat, or bad words, or whatever still rankled him a bit.

Not wanting to get stuck on the Commander's face, he floats out a new thought after leaping over a knot of slowly writhing vines. "Do you think there's something that lives here that looks at all these vines and eats it up like jungle spaghetti?"

Kaisel

// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //

is this the end of all the endings?

Fixing him with a bright, unbothered grin, Flora tips her head and declares, "Eating a little mud is totally normal, babe." The words are sunny and shameless, her curls dripping as she watches him with amused defiance. At his jab about her filthy mouth, she only arches her brows and flashes him a grin that borders on wicked. "Probably why I’m stronger than you, too."

When he threatens her with monster domination, she gasps theatrically, hand pressed to her chest. "Excuse me? Maybe I’ll just have to make two monsters then. One for competition, and one to avenge the first’s tragic loss to your delusions." The laughter that follows blends with the buzz of the jungle, light and bright as the water running down the vines.

For someone who usually seems untouchable—all gleam and gold and perfect control—Flora looks gloriously undone in the Oerwoud. The jungle clings to her, fabric plastered against her body, curls frizzing into a halo that gleams whenever the light catches. None of it seems to bother her, surprisingly. She only brushes a vine from her shoulder and adds, "Maybe we do our Halo date first, before the Stormbreak kite-flying one. Give Zavien time to cool off."

Kai's talk of jungle spaghetti breaks a laugh from her, that loose, easy kind that seems to rise straight from her ribs. Time with him always ends up this way: the world dissolving into something ridiculous and joyful and gods she adores the effortless way he just weaves laughter into their lives. "You think so?" she says, eyes bright as she turns toward him. "Bet if we listen really close, we’ll hear a giant mouth slurping up the vines."

Then, without warning, she demonstrates, lips pursing as she lets out an exaggerated, noisy slurp, the kind you make when pretending to suck up a long noodle. She keeps at it as she leans toward him, chin tilting up, gaze flicking to his mouth like she’s about to kiss him. If and when he leans in, she'll press a mud-smeared finger right between them in a sneaky attempt at giving him first taste of mud, aka jungle spaghetti sauce.

my broken bones are mending

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //

The glance he tosses her way tells her he's not buying it. Though, the idea of it being her secret sauce weapon for strength earns a chuckle, and he agrees it maybe has some benefits. "Oh, yeah, au natural vitamins, for when your morning gummies become too dull." He rolls his eyes with considerable exaggeration.

A grin can't help but creep along in response to her Broadway spectacle of shock. "If you can make two monsters then I can make two monsters," he counters swiftly, leaving them with little progress on championing their mud creations. "Guess we'll just have to wait and seeeeeeee."

One could argue that Flora looks glorious, whether done or undone, in all sceneries. One would be Kaisel. Though, there is a certain charm to her Laura Croft level of badassery when it comes to just traipsing through the untamed jungle like it's any routine errand. He also has an excellent view of her ass frequently, which is prime reasoning for any Laura Croft media.

"But Flora, he won't cool off. It'll be Longheat by then." He pauses, waiting for her to turn to truly appreciate his deadpan stare for the terrible joke he just made. If she doesn't turn, well, he's still deadpanning her and applauding himself on the inside.

As she considers large jungle monsters with an appetite for Italian (or would this be Oerworldian? Maybe even, vegan?) he does strain a bit harder to listen for the possibility of it. His head tilts, breath holding for a moment, and gods willing he even likes to think his heart slowed just a beat to bring enough, pure stillness in for her obnoxiously loud slorp to cut in with full force.

"Gods, do that to my di—" he cuts off as she looks positively ravishing with that mischievous curl to her and the pucker of her mouth. Even if it had just been irritating, he'd rarely pass an opportunity to kiss her, so he falls easily into her trap. He jerks back in utter disgust and betrayal, sputtering as the shitty sauce coats his mouth.

"OH MY GODS, FLURUH!" he demands, craning his head out and down, trying to drizzle spit and mud around his dismay as he sputters. It continues to smear the more he salivates, and after a few whistled spits into the ground, he lifts his gaze to her. It rises without his head shifting, just a daring scrawl of copper straining up into his skull. He lurches down suddenly, grabbing a globule of the stuff. "Oh you're fucking in it for it now," he threatens with a reckless grin, hiking his hand back and hauling it towards her chest.

Kaisel

// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //

is this the end of all the endings?

At his joke, Flora stops dead in her tracks and turns to give him a look that's basically the llama gif I always send. Drips of sweat and humidity drip down her face, curls plastered against her cheeks, and for several long seconds she just stares at him, unimpressed in the way only someone who’s heard too many bad puns can be. Then, inevitably, her composure cracks; the corners of her mouth twitch upward, and a snort of laughter slips out before she shakes her head. "You’re the woooooooooorst," she snickers, rolling her eyes but unable to keep the grin from blooming back across her face. Because while she knows fights between friends are serious—and so are two leaders potentially getting into a dick-swinging contest (hers was much bigger, of course)—it was still funny.

The next moment is chaos. As Kai dramatically spits and flails, trying to rid himself of his new culinary experience, Flora absolutely loses it. Her laughter bursts out in delighted waves, bright and unrestrained, echoing through the dripping jungle. "I’m sorry, what was that?" she gasps between peals of laughter. "Do what to your dick?"

Flora probably should have anticipated retaliation; there’s a flash of motion, and then splat. Mud hits her square in the chest, warm and heavy, sliding down the soaked fabric of her shirt. For a second, she just blinks, staring at the spreading stain, and then grins up at him with feral triumph. "Seeeeee?" she crows, "Stronger already."

And before he can gloat, she crouches, scoops up two massive handfuls of mud, and bolts forward through the squelching mess, her laughter turning wild. "C’mere, city boy!" she calls, aiming to plant both mud-caked palms right on his chest with gleeful precision. "You’re about to get yourself a pair of mud titties!"

my broken bones are mending

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //

His own laughter sparks vibrant and full at the sight of her stunned into stillness, and rightfully silenced, as mud smears across her chest. It isn't a long period of hesitancy or triumph, but his grin prods out at the sight just the same, deeply satisfied. That is, until her remark has him puh!ing at the implication her mud trick is the cause.

He only has time to draw in a breath, before immediately expending it on a squeal of terror as she rises with mud in either hand. Dual wielding terror with horrific speed, Kaisel turns tail and darts through the jungle with a sudden, reckless abandon for his footsteps. All he knows is nope! "Noooo, I don't want jungle badonkers!"

Laughter maddeningly steals the breath of his endurance as he tries to run, but the slick mud underfoot is the true villain because it steals the vertical from him. His heel hits and immediately skates over the mud, yanking his legs out from under him as he lands on his back, prime for a sloppy boob job. The mud he disturbed reforms into place, unbothered, while he scrabbles for a handful to arm himself with.

Kaisel

// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //

is this the end of all the endings?

Now it's Flora's turn to puh! under her breath, grinning wide as she calls after him, "Oh, please—you were ogling my jungle badonkers not five minutes ago!"

Her laughter spills into the humid air as he takes off running, his shriek echoing through the tangle of vines until, inevitably, the jungle wins. The slip is spectacular. One moment he’s upright, the next he’s flat on his back, arms flailing like an upturned crab. Flora doesn’t even try to stay composed; she’s laughing too hard to bother. Her knees give out, and she sinks down into the soft, living carpet of vines, the humidity making everything slick and close.

In one smooth, chaotic motion, she ends up straddling his shoulders, thighs squelching against either side of his head as she leans forward. "Hold still!" she demands, pressing the cold, sticky handfuls square onto his chest where breasts might go if nature had a sense of humour. She molds them generously, smearing and patting with gleeful precision, laughter bubbling up anew as she gives the freshly sculpted mounds an approving fondle. "That's so hot. I think they suit you."

my broken bones are mending

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //

All things considered, pinned down by Flora with his head between her thighs is not the worst position he could be in. Take away all the mud and he'd be ecstatic, actually. Unfortunately, the mud is here to stay. No one more certain to make sure of it than her.

He absolutely doesn't listen to her command, wriggling beneath her as she bends over him in a curtain of golden hair that's holding hands with itself in various clumps of humidity. He shouts like she's bringing down a buzz saw on his chest and not a mound of mud over his pecs, violent "Noooo! NOOOO!"s firing out among bouts of wailing laughter. All his twisting and flopping are of no help. Her palms slap and slide across him, and he goes rigid with defeat, chin tucking in as he cranes to get a view of the new additions he can feel like heavy slug across his chest.

Of course, now that they're there, one hand bends around to cop a feel. He cups the mud-tit, jiggling it faintly where it slides on his shirt. "Actually," he commends with a thinning to his tone, surprise dragging it out. "These are nice, now I have my own set to play with." His grin bursts out like something rebellious trying not to get caught, gaze tilting up to find her, though its mostly a mountain range of thigh. He reaches up with both hands, one extremely muddy from pawing at the ground for a glob, trying to grab hold of her arm and tug her forward overtop him to sink her into this messy bed too.

Kaisel

// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //

is this the end of all the endings?

Flora’s laughter bursts out sharp and wild, the kind of delighted, unhinged cackle that could only belong to a disney villain; or, in this case, a woman very pleased with her own handiwork. "Ooooh look at you!" she gasps between peals of laughter, barely managing to breathe as Kai thrashes beneath her. He’s always been the most dramatic when she’s got him trapped—whether it’s tickling him, drowning him in feathers, or now, sculpting his body out of mud—and she loves how he always plays right into it, how his laughter always tangles up with hers until she can’t tell whose is whose.

She finally releases him, sitting back just enough for his hands to roam the new topography of his chest. Watching him lift a brow at his handiwork makes her grin all the wider. "See? Pretty good, right?" she teases, smirking down at him as his fingers squeeze experimentally at the muddy mounds.

But then he’s tugging at her arm, and she goes pitching forward with a startled laugh, curls falling in front of her face. Normally, the position would have her reaching straight for the button of his pants—and judging by the way her body slots against his, it’s definitely muscle memory that almost wins out—but the mud stops any chance of that. Instead, she lets out an indignant, "KaiSEL!" his name drawn out in mock outrage, as she clamps her knees lightly against his ears and digs her fingers mercilessly into his hips, trying to tickle the mischief right out of him.

my broken bones are mending

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //

His laughter's already on the rise, having been a nearly constant, low hum since the first fling of mud. He's eager to drag her down into the filth with him though, so when she tilts forward with indignation it tickles him immensely. That is, until she begins to tickle him instead. All dirty thoughts, mud or otherwise, vanish in an instant as he launches into full warfare.

The sound of his laugh pitches up the moment her fingers find the sensitive skin of his hips, poking and prodding mercilessly. "LisTEn, LISten!" he begs, going for diplomatic tactics to start with as his hands try to fends hers off, slapping and shoving. As he knees box his ears he grimaces, one eye pinching shut, the other curling up to beseech her. Although he wouldn't mind having on his headstone that he went out doing what he loved, smothered in Flora's thighs.

"You made ME—" he grunts around a laugh as her finger delivers a good kick to his side. "Me the belle of the ball. Now I wanna make you the beau of the ball." It's only fair. He gets hold of both her hands and fights to keep them, turning his grip into manacles, although the mud-coated hand is proving difficult to stay firm as he arm gradually slides through it. He twists his head, teeth snapping to try and bite at her leg as an added, multi-strike offense now.

Kaisel

// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //

is this the end of all the endings?

Kai’s pleas only make her worse. Flora laughs so hard her stomach aches, fingers darting mercilessly down to find the strip of sensitive pull of muscle around his hip, hidden just beneath the waistband of his pants. His squirming only eggs her on; she’s half feral with delight, curls clinging to her damp skin, gold jewellery dulled with grime. There’s nothing elegant about it, and gods, she loves it; loves how light her heart feels, how every breath with him turns into laughter, how every moment together seems to unravel into something sweet and chaotic and utterly alive.

She’s in the middle of crowing a confused, "The what—" when his hands clamp around her wrists and his teeth sink into the inside of her thigh. The yelp that escapes her is sharp and startled, half shock, half laughter. She jerks instinctively to the side, tumbling off him and landing in a gloriously graceless heap. Her hip hits the ground with a wet smack, and the vines beneath them actually slither back, like they’re scandalized, before creeping in again to reclaim the space.

"Kaisel!" she exclaims, twisting around to glare at him, eyes wide with disbelief that’s entirely performative. "Did you just bite me?" Her tone teeters between outrage and laughter, and after a long, incredulous stare, she lifts a brow, lips curling into a smirk. "Wait, does that mean you're going to make me a mud dick?"

my broken bones are mending

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //

Breathless with his newfound freedom he drinks in tickle-free air like there's been a drought of oxygen, chest heaving with the effort. Although it rarely matters if she's tickling him or not, she always steals the air right from his lungs. It happens every time he sees her, and no matter how often he looks it never grows easier, he's struck every time by her beauty. It happens when he rounds a corner in the house and finds her there, haloed in light or half lost to some small, unguarded moment. It’s the way she exists—the laughter that tumbles out of her, the effortless way she moves through life, spilling warmth into every corner she touches. He still isn’t used to it, sharing it all with her, that it's real, that she's his and he's hers and they can be breathless together forever still.

His head remains tilted, the world sideways and her gloriously slanted across the ground in his field of view. He has one of those moments now, looking at her spread in mud, hair disheveled with chaos and humidity alike but managing to look like it's on purpose still. She's rich with the sound of what they've built, devious and dramatic as ever, and gods he loves her and and his grin widens with the feel of it like he means to swallow the sun. He'd hold onto it longer, if he could, but he's got a mud dick to make.

"All's fair in mud and war pookie," he croons as he lifts himself up onto an arm, a helpful vine keeping it from sliding right back out from under him. "Yeah!" he confirms with a delighted press of his smile against his cheeks. "Like, a suuuuper massive one too, that way you can go by Big Dick Doubletake." Not waiting for her permission, he grabs a fistful of mud and lurches over towards her on his knees, one hand barring overtop her stomach while the other moves to sculpt a masterpiece. With him back vertical, his chest work begins to sag, reaching grandma status in a blink.

Kaisel

// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //