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offshoots
[In the old days, men came to Circe, not the other way around. But a great witch knows how to improvise, especially in the name of revenge. Especially in the name of petty revenge.
Expose her disguise in Salem, will he? Well. Can't have Robin Hood being too perceptive and clever, without consequences for his fat mouth.
Servants may not need sleep, but enough liquor makes them pass out when they put their guard down. She doesn't even need to be too quiet when sneaking into the kitchen, stepping around the scotch and cards from a British get-together. No King Arthur but a few knights, a poet and a pirate. And, ah-ha! An outlaw, with drool sticking poker chips to his cheek.
Circe taps a finger to her lips. Hm. All men might be pigs, but it wasn't quite fitting in this case....hadn't been grabby fingers, but a quick tongue that had earned him this trouble... a tilt of her head. That russet hair, standing on end, did already put her in mind of a certain bushy creature. Why not complete the look?
Boop!
She taps a finger full of magic right onto his nose and steps back to observe her handiwork. Not cruel enough to earn her deserved scorn - enough to teach him not to blow her cover. And if he was so sly and crafty, than surely, not too hard a task to discover who'd turned his ears vulpine and given him a tail to match that kitsune Caster's? Admirable handiwork, if she will admit that to herself. Perfectly fluffy copper fur even she wants to reach out and pet.
Fufufu.
Time for a fox to hunt a hawk. And for Circe to spirit herself away before he catches a whiff of her among all the alcohol.]
DW give us the important specs like dick size
Merlin wants them to play fetch like they're dogs and Robin is not about it. if it was a mission that his Master wanted, fine. because that's his Master and when he has a job to do, Robin does it. but when it's his problem and he doesn't want to do something, he's not going to fucking do it.
he considers prying her hand off of him but that's all. there's a storm in his expression, she's right. but it's brought on by himself, not by her. if hadn't been cursed with these stupid ears and tail and whatever the hell else was making him act weird, then neither of them would be here.
Nero wouldn't be accusing him of being jealous.
which, by the way?
fuck.
his face burns from cheeks to ears. and his already unsteady heart leaps in his chest.]
Wh-what do I have to be jealous over? Don't say weird things. [he didn't want to hear it out in the open. it's bad enough he was thinking it himself.] If you want to take him up on his offer, be my guest.
[something is scratching him uncomfortably. it's the hook of her bra. Robin reaches into his shirt and pulls it out, pushing it at her chest. he was pretty sure Nero didn't normally wear bras.]
Here, and take this thing. Don't leave your things scattered around. You'll turn into a layabout like me.
if we know everyone's cup size we gotta know dick specs
Robin Hood may be as understandable to her as quantum mechanics or modesty, but Nero knows love. she knows when blush and stuttering comes from an envious heart and suddenly. suddenly so much more is clear. Gawain, Merlin - both terrible flirts, both objects of his ire. and even if he tried to deny it, the tail gave so much more away with the furry equivalent of goosebumps running up through it.
he was jealous. of men around her. ]
Oh ho ho.
[ Nero's grinning. like an idiot, like a conquerer. like someone who has just discovered a very precious piece of blackmail and will never, ever let it go. and like someone who doesn't have a swarm of butterflies just released into her chest. proof! proof, now, that her pursuit of him was destiny! the fates had drawn them together and not only given her these feelings, but instilled them in Robin as well! would he have fought Merlin for her? or Gawain? stars above, the thought he would go to battle for her heart --!! ]
You ARE jealous. To think you had hid it so well that even my eyes had not taken notice!
[ and here she had been, shy as a temple maid in spring. not saying what she had in mind for fear it might spook him away.
and Nero does wear bras. sometimes. usually when they're the only top she has. she takes it, but then will not let his hand go so quickly. captures it with her fingers, both gentle and inescapable. and trying to will her smile over to his face, to chase away the storm of his expression. ]
Allow me to put your troubled mind at ease. For all that mage can do, he bundles them in webs and traps that I do not wish to fall into again. Unless it would have helped you. But I would not have done the same for him, or Gawain, or any other save my Praetor.
[ hm. her usual silver tongue has failed her. ]
...I've become quite fond of you, layabout though you may be. I said it once before today. You are all I need.
my thoughts exactly
he feels so stupid.
she has ammo again him now. a trap he's weak to. it's not beneath her to spread the news that Robin Hood was jealous that Gawain and Merlin were blatantly flirting with her. though he would be quick to say that he wasn't himself. find any excuse to break his way out of a hole he's falling into.
at least he managed to hide it from her. not well enough. actually, she's just dense because he had not been subtle about it. again, not his fault. he has ears and a tail that broadcast all his emotions.
she'll have to try harder to get him to smile. the storm has passed and he just looks as sulky as he usually does as she holds onto his hand stubbornly. he's only just gotten used to their Master, Praetor she calls them, and the mats and resources they put into his Saint Graph.
and now Nero, another Servant, wants to help him she'd suffer Merlin's bullshit? nobody has to go that far.]
I'd hate to break it to you, but I'm an expert at traps myself. If you hate them so much--
[his words are turned back on him. albeit, words he hadn't meant to say. words that came out very wrong but words he said, all the same. she's fond of him.]
Man, you really have bad taste. Seriously, it's bad. [barring their Master. they're a good seed.
he hasn't stopped blushing and now he's looking at her hands holding his. small but they easily wield a sword her own size.]
... You don't have some goal to sleep with everyone in Chaldea, do you?
[he should be the one that needs to be hit. knock his HP down.]
no subject
though lord. if he ever revealed who else he'd slept with... perhaps she can understand his growls and snarls a bit clearer than she'd first thought. ]
Mine is most impeccable taste. It sets trends and alters the fashion of our times. My only apology would be for all the attention you might receive as my paramour - others shaking envious in their boots for the attention I will lavish upon you.
[ here, to start. if she can't smile away his gloom, she'll kiss it off with a peck to his cheek. and as he said - those ears and tail broadcast everything. there's no hiding it.
hm. maybe it would be better to leave them be on him after all.
and if that was intended to be a dig at her, she won't be shamed. Nero has no compunction, no British prudishness. if anything her lovemaking should be put on the theatrical stage so all can applaud and give roses to her and her lovers for their performance. also there's been like, ten tops, out of the hundred Servants in Chaldea. ]
It flusters me to say so, but to see you so pained.... [ and her arms have swept around his middle, her head pressed against his chest. his scent hadn't changed too much, with only a bit of stale beer mingled with the forest. and he's warm, sturdy - as solid as ever. no magic had changed that aspect of him. ] Please, be happy when we are together. Do not let what I've done with others cause you any distress or anguish.
[ their Master had Nero's love, it was true - but that was an imbalance, intertwined with respect and dependency and competition with impossibilities even her heart understood, deep down. and it was not a zero sum game. a Servant's eternality provided complications - the most glorious flames burned the briefest, after all. and Robin, hm. perhaps it was not so different after all.
she understood Robin least - his fickleness, his deprecation, his irritation towards the things and people he gravitated towards. as comprehensible as the love her citizens had for an Emperor they burned in effigy. how they spat at her, and then fought and died for her. what he had, he would never give her - never compromise those angry, bitter parts of him. that for all the gold he'd stolen, he could only ever sneer at the ones who wore it.
but she could hope. give herself repeatedly to it and hope - that one day an act of hers could change it. one day her people would love her as she loved them. one day, her city would hold her in their hearts and memories as she did Rome's marble glories. and one day, that she'd be smart enough to uncover the correct move to make with him. and until then, throw herself repeatedly at it, galvanized to continue the war for every snatched victory. he'd come to her when called.
hold tightly to him, while he was there in front of her with no escape. wish and want and pray this stubborn creature was inspired by her passion enough to feel it too.
and never thinking of the irony. that if and when he did, if she would welcome it.
she feels too strongly, to consider the brain's complexities and self-hatreds. ]
no subject
he actually wonders if she knows the meaning of discretion.
Robin doesn't want the consequences that any public displays may give him. it's difficult enough for him to accept simple things like hugs. any kind of lavishing is going overboard. more than overboard. so when she gives him a peck to his cheek he sucks in a breath and feels his ears go hot. they can kiss and he can have his tongue down her throat without question. but peck his cheek and he's so awkward it's painful.
because ten is much more than his zero. and sometimes it shows in his mannerisms.
he thought the kiss to his cheek was too much but having her wrap him up in her arms and have her head against his chest? well, she'll hear it. his heart racing away -- there's no hiding that. it's not happy, but it's something.]
It's not causing that...
[he nearly chokes on his own words because of the contradictions it has against his actions. they always spoke louder than words. that's true for Robin Hood, as well. although he thinks that Nero is an anomaly in that regard. her words spoke louder than her actions. rather, her actions were only a subset of those words. they were always bigger and louder than what he thought her tiny body could carry.
yet she was easy enough to understand. while Nero would be testing and searching, Robin lacks the motivation to do so. he's fine with the way things are and he'll be fine if she decides to find twelve instead of keeping it at eleven.
(for Robin, the right move would always be one where he isn't involved.)
she's still hugging him and he hesitates before he ever touches her. gently, his arms wrap around her shoulders and he places his chin on top of her head. it's not happy.
but it's something.]
I'll be back to normal when this is cured. Don't think or worry too much about what I've done today, alright? It's not Robin Hood.
[it's someone else.
someone he spent a long, long, long time leaving behind.]
no subject
there had been a hundred questions that had come with shoving his tongue down her throat. it's seemed Robin has had nothing but questions and second guessing. Nero had not been immune to questions. but those were of the sort around his behavior. did he find her a shame, some secret he must keep? what made her unworthy of his proclamations and grand gestures?
her ego was not quite as impenetrable as appearances suggested.
one of her hands comes between his shoulder blades. as if to steady him for when the thundering heart leapt out of his chest. its warm, even without the comfort of his mantle. she adjusts her cheek against it, still pleased with his scent despite the beer. and when his chin comes to rest atop her braids and buns, Nero turns her face into the base of his neck. all the better to be filled with the scent that drives hers chest to burn. ]
I've no option other than to worry about you.
[ he wanted her. the words caught on her heart and in her head like bristled seeds. all i need. and she craved to be needed, to be wanted, to be so integral and essential that it to be deprived was to cause suffocation. and if moving mountains was what was needed, she'd train herself to gain the strength. it was the hallmark of her class - resolute, determined, charge on forward.
he may prefer the moves that keep him still. but Nero wouldn't know how to stay still if her Master's life depended on it. ]
Then let's continue forward. If your instinct tells you to speak to BB and not Merlin, then we will go to her and then back to him. Though I must say. [ and as, slowly, Nero unravels herself from the hug - feeling cold, feeling flushed - she pets the ears again. a savoring touch on velvety fur along the full length of it, the back of her knuckle brushing repeatedly. ] I shall miss how soft these feel.
no subject
the rest she'll have to figure out.
Robin doesn't seek out intimacy. not like Nero did. nor did he expect it to come to him. for better or for worse, Nero is a special case. it could have been her filling a void he hadn't realized existed until she kissed him. until he gave in and had a wayward thought of "this is nice" when she had her bare body against his and they were sweaty, sticky. they were basking in the leftover waves of pleasure that washed over them.
the thought is quieter now but there. he can feel his grow hotter but doesn't push her away. all he can do is hope some God is with him today and nobody interrupts this. being held isn't something that happens to him often. it's only more recently, with Nero, that he has. even then, it was in throes of pleasure or her demanding something of him. not for her to reassure him.
his breathing starts to even when the guilt doesn't crush him like he expects it to. his arms tense to tighten around her more--
BB. they have to cure the curse. she slips from his grasp easily and he steps away, unsure of what to say. though maybe it would be better if he just didn't say. for once, just didn't say anything at all about it.
for once, he lets her pet his ears. not without some sulking and a blush that hasn't faded from an intimate moment he will never mention. his brows furrow and his mouth twists. with a small sigh, he gives up. leaning into her touch.
it could be written off as his thanks for... for being herself, he guesses.]
Ask BB nicely and she might give you a pair of your own. Or you could always try to pet Tamamo's.
no subject
he must live a lonely life. even if it is by his own choice, Nero doesn't know how he'd stand it. off on a branch or tree like a bird without a nest. no wonder Liz and BB go after him. they pick off the ones out of the heard, knowing nothing would come to his rescue. or whoever did this curse to him, thinking they'd be up against one outfoxed outlaw. not anymore! not when Nero's here.
he won't be alone with her.
the ears flutter, silky. she hums absently at the nice sensation of them, and of Robin's head cupped against her hand. still prefers lions, and not merely because it's too late to stop the shipment of them to Chaldea. but he's not that different from a lion, she thinks. less gruff than you'd expect. capable of silly cute things too. maybe if she puts down a box, he'd curl up in it - thinking he'd burrowed away and not noticing she was cooing and taking pictures.
and then he goes and ruins it by mentioning THAT WOMAN. ]
Hmm! Hers would be coated in gels and mousse as she attempts to artificially produce such softness! Such richness! Such a delicate balance of textures and sensations! One's character clearly influences the comfort of fur - it is why even a mangy dog can be pleasant to pet, and a purebred nothing but steel wool! No. Yours are much better - and even then!
[ oh god she's going for the tail again. doesn't pull but rather suddenly has it up her cheek to caress and stroke up and down....up and down..... ]
There are still finer things to have. Perhaps instead of wishing it away, I will have her cut it off so I can make a stole out of your tail, so I can forever have a piece of you and our adventure together to wear when winter comes!
no subject
the tail and ears aren't really his. it's why he's not sure how to take her praising them. he's far more assured on how to react to her rubbing her face against his tail. not his, no, but tell that to the nerves there directly connected to his brain and the feeling that's going on there. Nero rubbing her face on it tickles and makes his breath short. his gasp is sharp and quiet, his back going straight.
he speaks through his teeth, through a blaze of heat working its way up his spine.]
Stop. Snuggling it.
[that's what she's doing. that's definitely what she's doing, isn't it?!
if his character influenced his fur, wouldn't it be muddy? dirty? matted, at least? then Nero wouldn't be so inclined to rub her face in it like that. with all the nerves obviously being connected to him, cutting it off would be really fucking painful and he would rather avoid that. so you know he's not in his right mind when he says,]
If you want, I'll give it to you! Just... [DEEP BREATH] s-stop rubbing on it.
no subject
[ fuck those cat pillows. maybe there's a way to make him say nyan if she squeezes Robin right. or whatever sound foxes make. ....what sound do they make....?
well it's twitching and it tickles her so Nero giggles, at first involuntarily. and then less so once she sees his face. then it's much more a loud, bright, deliberate cheer of laughter. let it infect him and make him smile too. come now Robin, smile. watch her do it - with the lips split from ear to ear so her small face has become nothing but one overwhelming bit of unfiltered, childlike happiness. ]
I may have it?!
[ fur might be more Iskander's taste, but! Nero pulls herself in closer to wrap his tail as far around her neck as it would go. so not quite a stole, and Nero not quite six inches away, but she's got it clamped to her neck with both hands and preens up into his face. ]
How does it look? Fitting, no?
[ it must be if he's blushing that much. ]
Such generosity you've hidden! And you've let others think you're a greedy bandit. To thank you, I shall name you my personal spymaster.
[ no sword comes down on his shoulder to confer the title, but her hand will do. and shortly followed by another hug - distinctly, closely, informal - swung around his shoulders. little more than an excuse to hold him tight again, and tap her brow against the hotness of his red cheeks. for what did a Servant need with a spymaster?
...
well one could never be too careful.... ]
no subject
the flush seems to burn hotter at her giggling. there's only so much fun a person can have from cuddling something soft. lately, he's become more privy to the fact that Nero is far more childlike. or perhaps it's just an effect of being summoned. Liz could be considered a noblewoman, herself. not a king or an emperor, really, but she's as childlike (if not more) than Nero.
hadn't she been putting bows on him? like he was some kind of doll? nobles are the worst.
really, the worst. tugging on his tail, looking so happy as she wraps his-- the tail around her neck. the darker side hopes she chokes but.
she's too damn happy.]
I said it so you'd let me go, damn it!
[and she hasn't. at all. he's not generous, either. he just wants to avoid trouble as much as possible. yet it finds him. it finds him in a tiny emperor in red and the brightest smiles he's ever seen on a human face.
one that embraces him so easily. without thought. her scent swarms around him, stronger. because of a more sensitive nose? perfect. just what he needed. his arms are around her before he realizes what he's doing, fisting what little fabric at her back.]
What do you need-- aah, no. I won't ask. Arguing with you makes me tired. Do what you want. You're going to anyway, right? Okay, okay. Spymaster, sure. As long as you stop tugging on my tail, I'll do it. Alright? Deal?
no subject
it's cute. he's cute when he's all flustered.
Nero puffs the fur up against her cheeks and tries to picture if the colors clash with her. what a shame if they would. hm. she might just wear it anyway. but then - there's a hand? and she's the flustered one, the tail falling off once there aren't her hands keeping it in place. in absence of a better place, her hands land against his chest. a thick vest, but still enough to feel out the contours, and to brush soft fingers against the silver necklace that he wore. ]
Y-you will?! You agree to it!
[ Nero doesn't have the excuse of a beastly curse. she smells him - not that he wears cologne, perfume, or battle-musk. even with the dying hint of old beer to it, its the scent of the skin that had never gotten out of her nose from the first time. and this close -
one hand comes up to turn his cheek. the other rings round his neck to make a more splendid necklace and a better angle for her to kiss his lips. rough, masculine. enjoyable to press against, to push into. eyes shut and she enjoys the act, this moment that she's wanted like a nap in summer sun...
how she's wished to be romanced, to be pursued. but she's learning, at least, that the pursuer in her dreams has begun to wear an emerald cloak. and if that is so, then again, she must be the dominant one. the one to make the moves, to act on impulses. others might sit around and debate until the stars come out, but that has never been her way, her lot in life. she's had to act first until it became second nature. until it was part of her. the joke, that Nero leaps before she knows where to land.
her hands land up into his hair again. there is no ear to curve her finger around; the shape of his skull anomalously different. it is much longer before fingers touch around his ear, and then its silk and softness, flickering in shock. ]
no subject
I guess I am.
[always giving everyone the cryptic kind of answer, but it's the best affirmation she will get out of him concerning this. he's able to say it just before she turns his face towards her and his eyes are a fraction wider. her lips meet his and he goes still, stiff because they're in the middle of the hall and Nero has no shame. zero.
Nero is soft and feminine on her mouth but equally as enjoyable to feel for Robin. he shouldn't, he should push her away, but he answers her kiss by moving his mouth against hers. if Nero leaps before she knows where to land, Robin has to know it's land he meets and it's safe before he launches himself. with Nero, he gets caught up in closing his eyes quite often.
the ear flicks but he makes a sound to pour into her mouth. he doesn't know how many times he's told her not to touch them or his tail but she does it anyway. without fail. whatever sound he's made turns into a soft growl of frustration and he breaks away.]
Stop. Touching.
there's so much dust on this thread
first task for the new spymaster: become familiar with Emperor Nero's collected writings and see if she's come up with the phrase roguish good looks.
the mental note comes and goes; Robin holds her whole attention when his lips adjust. somehow the height difference disappears, in these instances. so that Nero can guide the pace, guide her lips across his chapped kisses. increase the tempo, the use of delicate instruments like tongues and touch, that stroke his brow and jaw between the little sounds he makes. the ones that sound like breath and grunts and stop touching -
okay that one she should have listened to - ]
H-hey!
[ grabby hands throw a tantrum when all they can hold is the air. ]
That was romantic! You can't start and then suddenly stop!
[ it had taken so long to get a moment like that! and to have it snatched away - it wasn't fair! it would be even worse than just ghosting on someone, no matter what reasons
and there is no meta text here. take the full force of her Imperial glower, even when her lips are shimmering from their shared spit. ]You should stop being so sensitive! One cannot behave themselves when prompted with a thing so tantalizing!
[ j'accuse....your ears! ]
grabs my vacuum
if it's romantic, it's only because she's roman. if he's sensitive, it's only because he has ears and a tail that he isn't used to. kissing in a hallway isn't what he would call romantic. he would call it teenage. they're supposed to be thousands of years old, they're supposed to be dead but here they are.
shenanigans. sometimes he'd rather still be dead.
her Imperial Glower has no effect. neither does her small tantrum. it never has besides irritating him.]
Are you talking about yourself? I can behave just fine. [yeah, right. some things that he's done today proves otherwise.] I'm in the middle of finding someone to get rid of these, not being sensitive. Pardon me for wanting to stay on track. Besides, now that I'm your spymaster, you can't get all-- [he was going to say lovey-dovey but he doesn't like that. nothing with love. what's a better word?] clingy anymore.
make robin clean up
If you could control yourself then you would not be a wanted criminal.
[ point - Nero (?). but a rather unsatisfying point. especially when it's followed by an audible GASP of air. ]
Clingy? How dare you!
[ that earns a very pointy poke right in his chest, piercing right through all that chest armor. ]
Now that you are my spymaster, you must learn the first lesson of servitude - do not bite the hand that feeds you! [ maybe that was the phrase she coined? hm. have him look that one up too.] You cling to me, not I to you! Now! You insist on being on track?
[ and his arm's in a death grip, only five of her tiny calloused fingers needed to snap him from a stand still. stay on track? she'll be the one to determine the track! and that was -
- was -
- where had they been going again.....
it'll come to Nero eventually, as long as Robin stopped trying to get her to stop pulling him. ]