[ To both assessments. He'd prefer to remove Yima from the playing field entirely, though. ]
Proving her fallible and vulnerable after generations of unrivaled rule will strike a blow to morale and mindset. If not the Zenites she cultivates, but her own long-lived people whom stagnate below her. They have never known change after they make their choice in Zenith's favor... despite that they believe it is what they naturally represent. That is my intention. A physical blow, with a psychological message.
[The smile that Kiritsubo gives, then, more to the air than to the man in front of her… it’s bittersweet. But she doesn’t shake her head or demure from answering the question. The answer may be vague, but she gives one.]
If what you love about someone is their free spirit, you cannot expect them to do anything like stay, no matter how you long for it.
[And gods, but that man…
Still wearing that soft, bittersweet expression… She begins to slowly, almost sensually unbutton her blouse.]
But when he questions what she's doing (or rather, if she is sure she wishes to), she blinks at him as if she is genuinely confused as to why he might be asking.]
You wished to see my tattoos, did you not... ?
[Finally, the cloth she is peeling away begins to show ink and not just the tempting line of her collarbone or the flawless swell of bosom, revealing geometric tiles of honeycomb dripping down her left breast, a bee (or was it a hornet?) crawling across the "surface".]
[How cute, those little red ears of his. Despite his obvious, physical strength, his status as a king... Oh, she's had an emperor or two, a baron, a duke, a shah, several princes, and a queen, but. Never a king. Maybe it was time to start changing that... ? She was curious.]
I will not be too humble... I was renowned in my world for what I do, but. I still appreciate the words. Thank you.
[To indulge, as he said, she leans forward a little, purely clinically, of course, to show off the left interior curve of her large breast, pointing out little details on the tattoo.]
The wings, in particular, were quite tricky, since they needed to be made see-though over the honeycomb beneath... then, of course, there was the issue of the flesh beneath... I do not know if you are aware, Your Highness, but a woman sometimes changes size, so to account for--
[ Oh. She's still going. He's honestly not sure how he feels about it - it's a mixed bag of emotions. There's a rather genuine curiosity and fascination with the artwork and the skill it must have taken for her to apply all of this to her own body, but also an uncomfortable mix of embarrassment awkwardness, and physical arousal that comes from a very attractive woman being willing to show off her body to him. It grinds against his own sense of propriety and he has to sit up a little straighter, his gaze not quite sure where to land. Her face? The tattoo? The exposed curve of her breast?
It's a lot and he has rather invited it on himself. ]
Er. I am aware that bodies change and grow throughout our lives, but, uh, I did not realize that such... growth... would need to be accommodated in your particular line of work, although of course that makes complete sense. You need not go into too much detail if you don't wish, I wouldn't want to impose any...sort of impropriety.
[ He is trying to find a polite way to not simply shut her down in what he is sure would be a very rude manner. ]
I... must say seeing this body art extend past a simple design in the hand or shoulder is very - very educational.
Oh, yes. Throughout one's life, of course, but what I mean is more the matter of if a woman should choose to bear a child then her bosom will grow accordingly, if she loses or gains weight, too, so one must attempt to design in a way that the key angles of the lines will not be affected by stretching...
[As if she truly did not notice, she continues on in response to his words just a bit more... Before flawlessly faking her way to realization, blinking... and then looking up at his face and breaking into an "awkward" little smile.]
Ah... Forgive me. It is my passion, and I get a little carried away... and I have never been the shy sort.
[Carefully, she leans back, readjusting her clothing and beginning to button back up.]
I forget too soon that you are a king. You must be used to... more modest women.
[ He is quietly relieved and also a touch guilty for feeling a twinge of disappointment. Then again, he's not quite the young man he was five years ago, so he's not as bad as all that. ]
No, no. I think... it may be a question of culture? My own people find nudity and... baring of one's self like that to be a rather private affair. Personal modesty doesn't enter into, I'm sure.
[ He gestures, trying to find the right words. ]
I do have ant to learn more about your art. I just... need to get used to your methods, eventually. Especially if you don't find it particularly improper.
[What a delicate way to phrase it... a "question of culture". But that must be the speech a King must be expected to be able to master. Unless he is a tyrant, of course. And oh, she can「see」violence on this man's skin, but tyranny was different.]
Well... We are in private, Your Highness.
[Said with a tiny hint of a tease, but a considerate amount that she does not dwell on, merely providing a little promise that she surely does not plan to advertise they have met like this, and perhaps a reminder that no one else has seen them. All fine, then, yes?]
... For the record, though, I would not tattoo your chest. As handsome a canvas as it must be.
[She reaches out, just as casually and sensually as she did anything... and her hand alights upon his arm, sliding up from forearm to bicep to-]
[ Honestly, Dimitri hadn't quite considered the conversation would tack toward something more... intimate than discussion of artwork. Or at least it feels like it's leaned that way. He tries to clear his head - the implication is not lost on him. And truthfully, he cannot help but feel his pulse race a little faster as she leans in a little and reaches out to draw fingers against his arm. ]
Ah-
[ There's a little shiver in his spine. ]
I hadn't considered getting any just yet, but... is there a particular reason why you would choose shoulder over the chest?
[ He is acutely aware of the hand resting on his arm and he tries not to focus too much attention on it. ]
[Whether he has considered it or not… It seems Kiritsubo certainly has. And she took stock of things she「saw」very quickly… even if now, in this borrowed form with blue eyes, her gaze of natural black so dark it seemed to reflect everything back upon her companions was hidden.]
You wield some sort of polearm, correct… ? Your posture and your musculature tell me so.
[That, and she read the papers after the Oracle rather extensively. Her fingers give a gentle squeeze on his shoulder and bicep, as if thanking them for being so talkative.]
When you thrust your weapon forward… I would want my work to be part of that.
[But before he can think “part of violence?”,]
Part of someone fighting for what the believe in. Even if it is not the same thing I do.
[ He admittedly knows very little of her beyond their short conversations. For all that, he thinks he likes her? She's fascinating, at any rate. Even if he's not quite sure how he feels about some of her more forward motions. His arm flexes slightly under her touch and he glances at her hand and then back at her, meeting her eyes. ]
...it's something to be admired. Even in someone you don't agree with. The willingness to put your all into something - I can find fault with a cause but perhaps not that drive.
[ He smiles a little. ]
Although I can't imagine what would end up on my arm to represent that.
[My, that is a good flex. She might have a wide variety of tastes and appreciations, but... She did so love an overtly strong man. So very much. Mmm.]
It is.
[Very, very admirable. Both of those things. Even if she herself preferred neutrality... she could appreciate the passion, the drive, the will that came to those who fought more rigidly for a side. Freedom was her calling... but she still liked to perch every now and then. With a little smile, she looks at what she can of his skin...
And her gaze grows just a little distant, like she is looking... not through him, but at something about him he could not 「see」himself. Hmm...]
For you, Your Highness? A charging boar, I think. For strength, and the role of a defender... and truth, of course. That, too.
[Also, some said, fertility! - Is there a reason she should know what that reference might mean to him? Surely not, and yet the karma she senses there...]
[ He sounds a little surprised. Maybe even taken aback. The animal clearly means something to him - and for his part he's a little surprised that she'd hit on it so exactly. It's a mixed memory - but not entirely bad, either. He sits back in his seat, smile fading slightly as he thinks. ]
Those are all good meanings, honestly. Worth imitating. Although... a friend of mine called me the boar king once. It was not meant quite as a compliment. But... I can't say I mind the comparison. Especially not now.
[It is only when he sits back in his chair that Kiritsubo’s touch leaves him, because at that point it would be far too obvious to stay. Fingers slide down his bicep… and then they are gone, as if it were totally natural she had been touching him and now was not, her hands occupied instead with tea.]
No?
[She smiles knowingly, but without being asked… Does not volunteer how she could have possibly picked such a fitting image for him.]
[ Since he revived, the whereabouts of Zelda's Shard have never left his mind. He sat in jail thinking about her; he snuck through Springstar after his escape thinking about her. When he lays down, he's hoping she's okay, and when he wakes up, he's wondering when he'll see her again. With everything that's been happening, he has put it off until now — and, maybe, procrastinating. Dreading.
If the Meris did shatter her, it had probably happened before he'd even revived yet. ]
Dimitri... I lost Zelda. I think someone in the Meridian has her. [ pause. ] Maybe... Shez, but I don't know for sure. Can you help me?
[ Link's mental voice cracks, as if he's fighting back tears. He is trying to keep it together, to not let his emotions spill into the Communion and overwhelm either of them, but he is struggling. ]
I don't know where she is. I — please, Dimitri, I... Before all this happened, I heard news that some other Zenites' Shards had been attacked somehow, and... i-if anything happened to her, I don't...
[ His psyche, washed in Dimitri's tender kindness, begins to calm. Link is silent for a moment, but then there's an impression of him nodding in muted agreement. When Dimitri says he gives him his word, Link knows to trust it. He knows he'll do everything he can. ]
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