Hotaru
nothing's fair in love and war
The glowering presence in the sitting area of her spa is like a stormcloud, but every time she glances over at it Hotaru can’t help the giddy, mischievous rush that follows. Completely immune to the pouting, mountainous figure Deimos poses. The soldiers had not been so immune, though they’d soon forgotten all about their General after Hotaru got her hands on them - literally - or they sank into the mud bath where they couldn’t see the Sword any longer. As such, she doesn’t tease him for chasing away her customers. He has a full tea pot and Atlas to keep him company by the fire, so she lets him brew and stew away all he likes, happy enough that he is not only there but willing to stay while she finishes. As the last group of guards leaves. Hotaru wanders over with a proud smile on her face. Wiping her hands clean with a towel, hair tied up with a few golden strands straying and curling around her cheeks, and a loose soft t-shirt that is a little too big around her clavicle. Comfort prioritized over some odd notion of professionalism that has no place in a spa like hers. Stopping in front of his slumped seat, Hotaru tosses the towel over her shoulder and her hands find her hips, smiling indulgently down at Deimos. “Have you accepted your fate yet or should I let you stew a bit longer?” Gentle, amused teasing, lest she give him even the most minuscule opportunity to cut and run. Features softening she extends a hand to help him up and guide him into the empty spa. “I swear you’ll be physically safe in my hands, even if it may hurt your pride. Now, have you decided on if you’ll do both or just one? I’m not sure I’ll let you get out of the massage, you’re one big ball of tension.” And Hotaru is bound and determined to fix that today, no matter how many teeth she has to pull.
