crave the applause yet hate the attention

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

Did he figure it out? He likes to think that he did, even if the waters were rocky sometimes and storms continued to brew in the horizon. He drags from his cigarette before exhaling the smoke through his nose, letting it curl around his face before he responds to her and meets her gaze. “I think so.” He had become the governor, had become something so much more than he ever thought possible, given his life and upbringing as an Outlander. Korofi had been tough and difficult and he had survived.

As for her, though, he can’t help but to smirk a bit when she brings up her work, humming a soft sound of agreement. “It’s a good coping method.” He rumbles as a slight interjection when she mentions she can help make people feel when they otherwise can’t. After all, it was his coping method. It had been for a while now.

But her unamused laugh steals his gaze away from her again as he goes to flick some ash into the sand, as Haai remains curled up between them and half asleep at this point. “There’s always something more to get. But sometimes it isn’t always better than what you have before.” Sometimes the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. And sometimes that was the hardest lesson of all.

“For what it’s worth I’m glad that you’re looking out for them and the Halenani.” In a place like Torchline before he’d arrived, it had been even more lawless, more dangerous. And he had tried to protect them inadvertently, when he was Arbiter. So far it had worked, and so far he was glad to hear from her that they were safe.

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

Maeve

That's all it was, wasn't it? A coping mechanism. While others chose the bottle or narcotics, her clients picked her instead. That natural high that she took them to their drug of choice. It really was about picking your poison. "Less harmful than some shit you could do. Can't really hurt yourself by fucking a whore." Maeve drawled, taking a long drag from her cigarette that had been burning between her fingers forgotten as she mused. Her eyes met his again and a faint smile tugged at her lips. It seemed they were both full of partial wisdom tonight.

"Isn't that the way it goes? You chase and chase and chase, but nothing ever truly satisfies." Maeve sighed, shaking her head as she shifted herself to get more comfortable. There were worse places they could be having this conversation. The sand is still warm beneath her and there is a certain comfort in that. "They're good girls. They deserve to be looked after. I sometimes feel like I can't do enough for them. We're doing well, but always could be doing better." Her shoulders lift up in a shrug as she gazed up at him. He was handsome. Even with the scars. Not that it mattered exactly. Wasn't he married? She thought so, but that didn't really matter either, did it? Not to most people in Caido.

Maeve licked her lips, flicking so ash from her cigarette as she debated her next words, "I know you aren't exactly welcome at the Halenani, but we can do, uh, out of brothel calls." It sounded kind of funny the way she said it and she can't help huffing out a soft laugh. "I just mean if you are ever.. ever in need of scratching an itch." Maeve tentatively met his gaze, trying not to feel weird about offering herself up like that. It was her job and she wasn't talking about her specifically, but it's implied and that makes it just a touch awkward.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

There’s a low hum of agreement that leaves him when she comments on the mention of coping methods. He focuses briefly on his cigarette, seeing that it’s nearing the end, before his gaze lifts and she’s speaking again. “Basically.” He murmurs with a hint of a sigh, a shrug of broad tattooed shoulders once again. And as for the rest of it, he’s sure that they could want and crave something better — and as Governor he doesn’t know how to help, doesn’t know if it’s overstepping.

But he meets her gaze as her slender shoulders shrug, the steel of his eyes lingering on her a fraction longer than before until she’s offering up an option, one that has his lip curling in a small feline smirk. “You know, I don’t actually think I’ve ever fucked anyone in a brothel.” He comments, pausing to take the final drag of the cigarette and puts it out in the sand. “But if Phoebe isn’t around there then I guess if I ever needed to I could drop by.” There’s a raise of his brow, as if tentatively taking her up on her offer. “She’s my ex-wife and things got a bit messy, I’m sure you can figure it out.” His now empty hand gestures a bit before the brief shift of movement has Haai waking up, the griffin yawning a whine before she stands and decides to inspect the rest of the sandbar, leaving the coral cathedral with just the two of them.

“But I’ll keep it in mind, Maeve.” He leans back down on his elbow, shifting so that his long legs can stretch out, so that she’s a bit taller than he is and he has to peer up at her to scan her face. “What sort of payments does the Halenani take?” Purely out of curiosity, of course.

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

Maeve

This is something she's more comfortable handling. That easy confidence that she usually fell back on made itself present and her whole demeanor shifted. Her eyes cut over to him and a slow smile curled on her lips even as they remained wrapped around the cigarette he had so kindly given her earlier. She drew another breath, letting the smoke out in a gentle stream before she answered him. "No different than fucking anywhere else really. Just less strings attached, I suppose. We don't get clingy when you try to leave." She paused, giggling as she added, "Unless you're into that."

Her cigarette followed after his, sizzling quietly in the sand as she shifted herself so she was leaning forward just slightly. Her fingers run through Haai's fur on her head like she might do if she was petting Sunjata instead. The new position gave him the tiniest peek at her cleavage as she hummed, "So that would be why I've not seen your face around. A real pitty. I've always been a fan of the rugged types." Maeve offered up that information like it was nothing, that same smile still playing on her lips as she considered his next question.

The woman is quiet for a moment, tilting her head in thought as a free hand came up to push her hair from her face, "All sorts of things... I personally like jewels. Bracelets, necklaces, and the like. Each girl has their preference." Maeve glanced over at him, the smile slowly turning into something more devious as she leaned closer to him, dropping onto her side and elbow. "Are you going to bring me something pretty, governor?" She teased, arching a brow as her voice dropped down into something much sweeter.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

For a moment he tries to think about all the beds he’s been in, which had cling to him when he’d left, but the names blur out in his mind and all he can think about are the ones that had wanted more out of it. But for a quick fuck? To let off some steam? He wrinkles his nose slightly as he shakes his head, the dangled earrings dancing over his shoulder with the movements.

She shifts ever so slightly before Haai is departing, and he knows what she’s doing — he plays along for the moment of course, but from there he isn’t sure what exactly he wants. “Rugged, huh?” He half mumbles, working his jaw as the ghost of that smirk remains, raising his gaze from where Haai departs back to her as she readjusts in a position that mimics his in a way. But she answers his question, the slight dig for more information, and Sunjata can’t help the slight gleam of appreciation in his gaze.

A bit of playfulness shines there too, the Flood leaning in just a fraction so that his hand can come up, can brush against her jaw, to tilt her head up as he leans forward as if going in for a kiss before he pauses just before. “Jewels I can do.” He breathes across her lips, before the playfulness returns tenfold and he’s dropping his hand from her, pulling away from the space between them and attaining some distance. “Provided I show up.” A fanged smirk is sent her way, accompanied with a wink as he begins to push himself back up onto his knees to stand, the soreness of his bones making it a fraction more difficult and less smooth and swift than he’d like.

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

Maeve

She didn't miss the look of appreciation he gave her and she preened a little for him just because she could. The skirt of her simple dress rucking further up her thigh as she dragged the tips of her finger across the skin there. Maeve leaned into his touch, letting herself be drawn forward before he's letting just his words kiss her lips instead of him. The woman pouted, that plush bottom lip of hers jutting out just a bit as she gave him her best puppy dog eyes, "You tease me, Jata. It's incredibly rude to leave a woman wanting." Maeve huffed, watching him draw up onto his feet once more. There isn't any real heat behind her words. It's all done in jest, of course. They both know it.

With ease, she rose to her own feet, taking a few steps toward him. Her hand came up, fingering the collar of his shirt before reaching up to swirl one of his curls around her finger as she pressed into his space. "If I knew you were going to edge me like that I would have given you my safe word." Maeve murmured as she rose up onto her tip toes to speak by his ear, one hand curling at his side to keep herself steady before she slowly drew back to allow him a bit of space between their bodies.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

He pulls away from her and she’s giving puppy dog eyes, pouting, offering up a jest of words that he can’t help but to snort to when he finally gets to his feet. “Mm well, nobody has exactly called me nice upon meeting me.” He retorts, raising a playful dark brow at her as she, too, stands, and has no trouble swanning over to him. She’s quite short in comparison to him, but given the size of the cathedral, he’s a bit hunched anyway.

But she closes in on the space between them and he doesn’t move, instead he’s intrigued to watch, to feel how she toys with his collar, how it drifts into his hair. From where she stands, the northern points of the compass tattoos on his neck point directly at her, and the starry Safrin tattoos on his arms shift an inch to match the stars above. She leans up to speak in his ear and his hand comes around to steady her, resting on her waist however briefly it is. And she wouldn’t know it, but the ear she speaks into holds another earring, a special one that makes it far easier to hear any whispers.

She draws back and the scar to the side of his face twists a bit with amusement, his steel gaze flickering with playfulness. He lets her go, his hand rising to run through his hair, to push it back out of his face before he’s regarding her again. “There’s always next time. You can inform me ahead of time.” He teases her back, his muscles barking in a bit of protest that’s replaced by the scaled armor of his dragon shift where it tries to support him more. He moves to step beside her, brushing close to her before he’s finally outside of the cathedral where he can draw back up to his full height. The dragon shift lets go a bit more, his hold on it growing less strong as it envelopes him again in the form of plates along his arms and neck, and he turns back to her as the wings expand from his back and horns slip from his skull, curling through dark hair.

“Would you like company on the way back to Haulani?”

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

Maeve

His hand is warm at her waist, holding her close as well as keeping her steady. She presses into him for as long as she's able to before drawing back from him once more. "So there will be a next time? How kind of you to let me know." Maeve replies with a little wink, bottom lip catching between her teeth as she steps out of the cathedral and back onto the sandbar that's slowly disappearing beneath the tide. It's only now that he's standing at his full height does she realize just how much he towers over her. Maeve tries not to stare when his shift starts to take over a bit more. It's intimidating and intriguing all at once. Especially as the horns and wings make themselves more prominent. Her eyes rake over his form and she's pretty sure it's incredibly inappropriate to think he looks good like this too.

Maeve draws in a breath, ignoring the slight flush on her cheeks as she approaches, easily slipping her hand to his arm where her fingers curl lightly. His scales press against her palm and she's almost surprised at how warm they are. "Yes, I'd like that. If it isn't too much trouble. I'd hate to be an inconvenience." Maeve tilts her head up towards him, a small smile back on those plush lips of hers as she lets him lead the way.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

“I never confirmed nor denied.” He hums, stepping out of the cathedral and letting the shift take over his skin. The plates cover the tattoos, but they aren’t unmarred themselves. No, the arm she picks to take that she wraps her hand around is scarred with a silver line of lightning, surging through the plates. Up and up until it disappears into his chest. Her slight flush doesn’t go unnoticed, however, and he tucks his wings in tight, drawing her arm in closer against his side. He peers down the disappearing sandbar, whistling for Haai to start to head home, and the griffin takes to the skies and ventures off and away to the other side where she’d meet them upon their arrival back.

His head tilts back down toward her, however, fanged smirk remaining on his face. “No, it’s no trouble at all.” He confirms, inclining his horned head toward her, taking the first few steps to try and lead them off the sandbar. The tide has moved in, however, and it encroaches against his boots as they leave the cathedral behind. “Where are you heading? The Halenani or somewhere else?” He continues to walk with her but his steel gaze lingers on her face, awaiting which decision she’ll make.

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

Maeve

"Jata..." She whines, pouting up at him all over again. The whine isn't annoying or too high pitched the way some girls do it. No, this has been perfected over years of practice to keep from being grating. Instead it's endearing and sweet with the way she hangs onto him, looking utterly and perfectly pitiful as he teases her. "Can't you give me a little something? Must you play games with me?" As if this whole thing isn't a game. As if she doesn't play it with the best of them. That's what makes this so fun. The back and forth. The teasing. The build up even if there isn't a release right away. They both draw it out because they just can't help it. It's too fun not to play.

He's flashing his teeth again and she's struggling not to think about his fangs pressing into her skin. Maeve smiles back and it really is breath taking. Bright and warm and oh so sweet as she gazes up at him. "What a gentleman you are." She purrs, a soft laugh bubbling out of her as she drops her gaze to look down at their feet. The water is threatening to wash over their boots if they don't start moving soon. So she lets him guide her the first few steps before answering his questions, "The Halenani, yes. I promise they won't run you off the grounds."

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

Her whine has him casting his gaze back to her, his wings shifting slightly while they walk, enough so that the leathery touch brushes by her back. The playfulness of her tone has him keeping that smirk, giving in ever so slightly in a smoldering gaze that he keeps on a leash — a game, as it were. “Who says I won’t?” His voice drops, the accent pulling at a few words as it rumbles in a purring tone. His arm remains in hers, drawn a fraction closer, his fingers shifting to sharp black talons of ink that tap against the fabric of his shirt.

As for being a gentleman, he snorts, spies her brilliant gaze and appreciates it in the still smoldering steel of his gaze. They walk and she answers, and he peers ahead, searching through the darkness to see just how much of the sandbar they had left before they reached the beach again, and when he looks back at her the steel is broken up by a slit pupil of black. “Good. It would be such a shame, wouldn’t it?” He murmurs, blinking as his gaze returns to normal. A few more steps and the water encroaches further. “I hope you don’t mind getting your feet wet.” He hums, playful and truthful as the waves stretch out at them again.

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

Maeve

The brush of his wing against her back is surprising, but not unwelcome. She shivers at the contact as it urges her closer to him. His gaze is heated, but controlled. Only giving away for a moment that he's even slightly affected by her presence. "I suppose no one, but you're doing a good job acting like you won't." Maeve hums softly, thumb brushing lightly across his arm where she holds onto him. The feeling of scales is still an adjustment, but she doesn't mind it. Maeve fights the urge to run her hand along his forearm to feel the roughness of them against her skin.

"A shame indeed. Especially if you're supposed to come and possibly visit me." She teases, tilting her face up towards his again even as they continue forward. The change in his eyes surprises her and there is a sharp inhale as he levels it on her. It feels as if he's seeing right through her and another flush rises to her cheeks as he looks away from her. Her nose wrinkles at the mention of getting her feet wet, "As long as we don't have to actually go swimming then I should be alright." Maeve doesn't know how to swim and the idea of actually having to makes fear curl in her belly much like it did when she was a child.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

Ironically, acting is something he’s had to do most of his life, it was part of a mask, one that had gotten damaged over his years in Caido, but if anything the Trial with his father certainly slipped it back, hardened his edges, even if Maeve had caught him at a bad time on one of his low days. He’s out of it now, for the moment, instead turned into a escort to ensure she made it back to the Halenani safe and sound. So he simply gives her a playful smirk instead of an answer, before peering down the sandbar. He feels her thumb brush along the scales to his arm and he pays it little mind in the long run. “You can feel them if you’d like.” He offers her, tilting his arm slightly to expose more of the inside of his arm for her to poke and prod at.

As for the rest of it, the slit pupils shift back to normal as he peers at her, a huff of a breathy laugh leaving him in response. He notices the flush again, because of course he does, and it causes him to poke and prod at it a bit more all in the name of the game. “Oh? Not a fan?” He questions, cocking his head slightly as he tries to gauge her answer before he’s looking out over the inky waves. “One would think I wouldn’t enjoy it anymore given the fact I nearly drowned again…” He pauses, pursing his lips slightly before he shakes his head. “But they do call me the Flood, so perhaps it’s just fate.” Here he levels his gaze back at her, continuing along the sandbar as the waves start to crash over their feet, up to their ankles in one swift pull of the tide. “That and the ocean’s always held a special place in my heart.”

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

Maeve

"Can you feel it? When I touch them?" It seems a silly question after she asks it, but the words are already out there. Her hand runs across his arm, feeling the rasp of the scales against the softness of her palm. They're warm and not as rough as she was expecting. Almost like a snake. Maeve licks her lips, "It doesn't feel the way I thought... Sorry. I've just never been around someone who could shift like this." She admits softly, hating to draw attention to just how sheltered she's been.

The laugh makes her cheeks flush further. Just as he intended and she ducks her head as she presses a touch closer to him, "It's not that I'm not a fan of the ocean. I love it. I just..." Maeve trails off, shrugging her shoulders as she continues to worry her bottom lip between her teeth. "I don't know how to swim. I never learned as a child and the one time I attempted on my own ended fairly poorly." Just like him, she's almost lost herself to the waves, but she hadn't dared venture out on her own again. Too scared of what might happen were she to try. The title makes her giggle and she shakes her head at a sudden thought that crosses her mind. "Is that why they call you the Flood? Here I was thinking it was something else entirely."

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending