God Quest a stream too shallow


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#1
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It would be a scene unlike anything Ronin was familiar with; one that not even Safrin was properly familiar with. Created from the minds of the few Outlanders who had come before, the landscape into which the hunter would find himself was like the grandest of greek cathedral-like architecture mixed with an cozy sun-room.  Light splashed against white marble, alighting off golden accents that littered a room that was both vast, sparse, and yet intimate. Through grand doors the hunter would come, likely seeing first a large pool of the purest aqua flecked with opalescent waves that drifted of their own accord. Just behind this pool was Safrin as he'd never seen her before.

Laying on her side upon a chaise-lounge whose rich purple upholstery perfectly melded against her curves, she wore a sleeveless dress of loose-fitting white cloth that boasted a dangerously low drop-neckline (to her navel, in fact), with cutouts on the sides that allowed for her curvacious hips to show through. Her hair was loosely held upon her head by clips adorned with pearls and starlight. Looking up, dark eyes alluring and fall of laughter, she smiled with relief and expectation.

Safrin
Ronin Taliesin
the Supernova


Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#2
RONIN
It was a temple that he walked through. Don’t ask how Ronin knew it, but some intrinsic part of him could feel the weight of the gods upon him as he strode through its airy, marbled halls. His skin was still warm from the sun, his dark hair carelessly tousled, and he followed his feet on autopilot. Feet bound in sandals the like of which he had never seen before. Indeed, every part of what he was wearing was foreign to him, from the bronze cuirass adorned with a blazing golden sun to the golden greaves covering his legs.

He felt tiny, walking through the doors, the entirety of his vision swallowed at first by the beauty of the pool, the tranquility of the room. Then, of course, blue eyes fell upon his goddess and his lips parted in a soft inhale of surprise. It was more than a bit inappropriate, the way his eyes drifted over her, lingering on the spaces where perfect skin peeked through the soft cloth of her gown.

”Safrin.” Had his voice ever sounded so reverent? Had he ever truly looked at the goddess who had pulled him from the sky? Whatever the answers to those questions, it was doubtful that Ronin would be in any state to consider them, given the rush of blood intimately southward.
what?

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#3


Placing the book down upon the cushion, Safrin half sits up to regard Ronin. She flashes him a smile that might be coy were she not the one with all the power in this situation. Her eyes wander over the leather and gold that cover a body that requires no fantastical upgrades to be unfathomably attractive. Still, Safrin appreciates the assimilation into the world in which Ronin finds himself, even if he's unaware he's doing it.

"Hello darling, I was afraid you'd gotten lost." She chuckled, swinging one of her legs to the side so that she might fold it beneath her as she sat up. Beneath the flowing white cloth, her breasts seem to defy gravity given that very clearly, there is nothing beneath. "Come over here and lets get you cleaned up." Ronin would find himself aware of blood dripping down from his greaves and that somewhere behind him in the endless halls, a monster had been slain. Leaning forward to hold out a hand, Safrin beckoned to the water.

Safrin
Ronin Taliesin
the Supernova


Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#4
RONIN
Lost? Oh no, Ronin absolutely was lost - his eyes could not stop from roaming over every part of his goddess; the way she moved, the parting of her lips, the purr of her voice. He already found himself stepping forward when he felt the drip of blood, watched it blot the marble floor with crimson. As if filling in the blanks in this apparent dream, he recalled vividly the monster’s death, the way it had terrorised Safrin’s halls until his arrival.

”How long have you been waiting?” he asked distractedly, while his feet took him dangerously around the edge of the pool towards her. Part of him wanted to have just stepped straight into the water, but the rest of him - more wicked and more interested in the perk of Safrin’s breasts and the sway of her hips than getting clean - wasn’t having any of it.

He arrived in time to sweep down to one knee, taking her hand if she allowed and pressing a soft kiss to the back of her palm. ”I am sorry to have kept you.”
what?

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#5


"Long enough." She chuckled adoringly, her eyes never leaving his as he stepped nearer, and yet at the same time possessing that predatory awareness suggesting she was able to see more than what she was just looking at.

Dark eyes watched as he knelt, the corners of her lips twitching into a satisfied half-smile as he pressed a kiss to her palm. Her fingers closed softly over his, the starlight of her essence pulsing a heartbeat into his bones, before she laughed almost girlishly; a sound both youthful and somehow innocent, despite being absolutely neither.

"You always have been such a charmer, Ronin. From the first day I met you." She purred. 'Now then. Off with all that nonsense and into the pool with you. The waters will wash you quite clean, I can assure you."

Safrin
Ronin Taliesin
the Supernova


Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#6
RONIN
There was a naivete about Ronin that stopped him from catching the predatory glint to his goddess's gaze; as far as he was concerned, he had just killed a monster and now he needed to get clean, and with any luck the ethereal lady before him would play an active participant. "I do try," he said with a crooked smile, nodding obligingly and rising to his feet.

His fingers went instantly to the buckles of his armour (and for a flash, the feel of the leather and metal beneath his fingers reminded him of another occasion where he'd been armoured and on the precipice of something similar), making short work of them that he might lift the cuirass over his head.

The greaves, sandals and under tunic followed soon enough, leaving the hunter bloodied and naked before his goddess. His arousal was difficult to hide, and it was with something of a bashful grin that he turned to step into the waters of the pool.
what?

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#7


Humming her approval, Safrin watched as Ronin rose. Whatever memory his actions might have stirred in the back of his mind would vanish like smoke blown from Safrin's perfectly painted lips. Thoughts of Vanya and Remi and the other lovers that the hunter had taken over the years would be like remembered table scraps before a banquet; tasty enough, but incomparable to what might await.

Perhaps surprisingly, Safrin's eyes did not drop to Ronin's erection as it was freed from beneath his clothes. She merely gazed up at him from her place on her chair, daintily sat, that strange mixture of vixen and mother-figure.

Ronin would find the water absolutely the perfect temperature, but what else would he have expected? It would smell richly of the rain and morning dew, the opalescent waves softly bumping up against him. "There. How's that?" Safrin asked from behind him. Ronin would feel her hands upon his shoulders, turning so that he was facing away from her. "Oh, so terribly tense, sugar." Her fingers would begin to softly press into the muscles of his neck as her grip pulled him back towards the edge of the water.

Only...instead of his back finding the earthen-edge of the pool, he'd feel Safrin behind him: her thighs spread to accommodate him, and, should he press himself back enough, would feel her erect nipples against him as well as her fingers continue to dance across his skin. Flowing next to them, her gown waves in the water, the material reduced to nearly transparent by the wetness. One can only imagine what it looks like clinging to her skin.

Safrin
Ronin Taliesin
the Supernova


Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#8
RONIN
Perturbed by thoughts that suddenly seemed very hard to grasp, Ronin decided against trying to reach for them too firmly, instead letting his mind wander to the very here and very now; the perfectly warm water lapping against his skin, the scents of morning and sunshowers. Instantly it seemed to soothe the aches and pains from his skin - tensions he wasn't even aware of - and his breath caught in his throat as the ghostly touch of the water became the very real caress of Safrin's fingers. "It's perfect," he said, his voice low and quiet and yet echoing softly in the room.

Hazy blue eyes half closing at the attention, he could only let out a hum of agreement at his goddess's assessment, the water whispering around him as he inched back to where Safrin directed. Excitement thrummed through him as he felt not the rounded edge of the pool but the lady of stars herself, her curves wrapped about him, her fingers writing poems across his back and his shoulders. Ronin caught the drifting fabric of her dress out of the corner of his eye, reaching out to distractedly pluck it out of the water. "Safrin," he began, almost boyishly, "what is going on?"
what?

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#9


Water drops from the raised cloth-like pinpoints of starlight, falling back into the pool with shocking prismatic clarity that surely doesn't exist in the world Ronin knows. It's almost like a dream. Behind his broad shoulders, Safrin's head tilts to the side as her eyes wander from freckle to scar, her fingers mapping out those constellations just as sure as they once did in the night sky.

"I'm not sure what you mean darling." She hummed after a moment, her smile twisting the words into something sweet-sounding, verging on musical. Straightening ever so slightly that her nipples might brush against the swell of his back muscles (or was it merely a trick of the water? Had she moved?) the goddess's hands released the various knots and bundles of tension beneath them. "Its just...been so very long since we've been together, just you and I. Like we were..before.." This was said with a slight shrug of her shoulders, as if she were merely some nervous maiden trying to verbally dance past an uncomfortable issue.

"I've just missed you, that's all." Her voice takes on a strange quality then, one that flies in the face of her godliness sounding devastatingly mortal. Making her sound like a woman and not the creator of the stars.

Safrin
Ronin Taliesin
the Supernova


Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#10
RONIN
Honestly, Ronin wasn't sure what he meant either at this point. He watched with fascination as the water droplets splashed back into the pool, the touch of Safrin's fingers on his bare skin and the warmth of the rest of her pressed against him seeming suddenly and painfully real. A low moan rumbled in his throat, drawn by expert hands seeking to dissolve all the tension in his back and his shoulders. And there was so much - so much that he carried, so much he stood in the face of. He had held back the tide of himself for so long that it felt, all at once, like entirely too much.

"Like we were before?" he echoed softly, uncomprehending and yet (and yet) knowing exactly what she meant. Her last comment had him turning at last in the water, his hands braced against the side of the pool, infuriatingly close to the porcelain curves of her hips, and yet not quite touching. "I'm here now," he said, somewhat lamely, but when faced with the sudden and exquisite glory of his goddess in full, what else was he meant to do.

His breath caught, shuddering in his chest, Ronin unable not to drink in the sight of Safrin. "You are so beautiful," he murmured.
what?

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#11


As he turned, he'd find the pale white fabric of her dress clinging to the curves of her breasts and the slope of her torso before blooming out like petals in the water to conceal her lower half. Conquettishly (almost), she tilted her head as if softly stunned by Ronin's arms encircling her; so close and yet so very very far away.

There was feigned sadness in her eyes then, her lashes falling as her gaze lowered to where the water brushed against Ronin's chest. "Are you though Ronin?" She asked as she traced shapes in the water between them, her fingers edging closer and closer to him before softly cascading up his chest. Her eyes rose slowly as feather-light touches did, drinking him in. "There always seems to be so much on your mind, I simply feel like an afterthought to you now." She continued, her pouting achingly mortal as her shoulders drew together, hollowing out her collar bones before she finally met his gaze once again.

"Do you really think so? You're not just saying that because..because of what I am?" This was shockingly sincere and vulnerable and though it was hard to know for sure, it certainly seemed as though she had edged nearer an inch or two.

Safrin
Ronin Taliesin
the Supernova


Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#12
RONIN
Her touch was exquisite, her voice a soft and breathy purr in his ears, and he ached to see the sadness on her face. It was something altogether too real for him to respond in any way that wasn’t ridiculously human; one of Ronin’s hands came up, softly cupping his goddess’s cheek even as her gaze dropped and her fingers danced through the water. Was it the magic of the place that filled his mind with Safrin in that moment? Or something altogether more primal?

Whatever the cause, his thoughts were consumed with starlight and midnight, with her celestial beauty and her passion, with the tinkle of her laughter and the soft and sensuous press of her touch. Her touch which, even as the thoughts invaded his mind, walked teasingly up the length of his chest.

”An afterthought? Never,” he said, a shiver running through him (from the top of his head to the tip of his cock, he might add) as a result of her not-quite-full attention. ”You are my goddess, but you would be radiant to me regardless. I mean it.”
what?

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#13


Though her eyes never moved, she leaned into his touch, light as a feather but real as anything else within Ronin's gasp. "Is that all I am to you?" She implored, the distance between them dwindling imperceptibly. At least until the swirl of her dress brushed against his thighs and lower belly, floating as if entranced into the dark spaces between them, and ghosting with far too light a caress over the length of his erection.

One of her hands mirrored his own position, dainty fingers pressing against the scruff of hair on his jaw. Pointedly her eyes moved to his lips as her dress continued to swirl alluringly below the water, stroking Ronin's thighs seemingly with a will all its own. "Do you love me, Ronin?" Safrin asked, almost casually, her eyes still on his lips. Like a snowflake falling on upturned lips, her thumb stroked lightly against his bottom lip, her touch like starfire. Softly she looks up at him then, head tilted ever so slightly to the side. As she does so, the strap on one side of her gown slides from her shoulder, and she makes no move to fix it.

Safrin
Ronin Taliesin
the Supernova


Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#14
RONIN
She felt so. Real.

Ronin didn’t think he had experienced Safrin in quite such a way before; small and feminine, voluptuous and vulnerable, something innocent and expertly teasing all at the same time. ”No, of course not. I—“ The hunter was cut off by the brush of silk across his skin, and quite what she was to him was lost again in that moment. He inhaled slowly, the ghosts of her touch so desperately not enough, and yet he felt suspended in this moment of doing but not quite, suddenly uncertain about how she would respond to any advance he made.

And yet here she was, her fingertips brushing across his lips, thighs spread to receive him, and Ronin felt the beginnings of a smile on his face. ”Gods, I do,” he said, and if the hazy fire in his eyes didn’t make that clear, how hard he was for her might just do the trick. His gaze flickered to the strap of her dress, his fingertips dancing from her cheek and across the soft column of her neck, following the errant garment’s path down to her bare shoulder. ”I do love you.”
what?

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