✿ THE HOUSE ✿
Adra's house is a cozy stone cottage on the outskirts of Caissa, close enough to the sea that one can hear the breaking waves throughout the day.
This afternoon, there's light, cool rain falling intermittently, tapping in a rhythm at the windows and roof. Fortunately, the kitchen is warm, bright, and welcoming. Its counters and tables are covered with freshly prepared foods of all kinds, and there are plenty of chairs for visitors who might like to sit and relax.
A door from the kitchen leads out into the garden, which is not quite yet fully landscaped, but which boasts a promising array of flowers (orchids, roses, lilies, tulips, etc) and herbs. Adra's also cultivating strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, and so on; the strawberries and cherries in particular are ripe for picking. Adra has strung enchanted, floating fairy lights all over the garden; they cast a soft, ethereal glow over the paths and carefully tended patches of greenery. At the garden's center, there's a clear pond filled with red and pink lotus blossoms.
Back inside, a visitor might like to rest in the den. There's a roaring fire in the hearth, and sitting near it for a short while offers a boost to the weary spirit. Soft, plush chairs and couches fill this room, making it ideal for lounging. The tables are covered with books borrowed somewhat indiscreetly from the library; they deal largely with the magic and history of Enprise.
Adjacent to the den is Adra's study. In here are half-empty bookshelves and antique rolling desk covered with neat stacks of papers, boxes of quills, and numerous pots of ink, each one in different, brilliant colors. His journal is somewhere here, too ...
Finally, down the hall one will find a half bathroom and, across from that, the door to the second bedroom--belonging to one Gilgamesh. The master bedroom, belonging to Adrasteius, is at the end of the hall. There's a full bath in there, but this room is definitively locked.
✿ THE SPREAD ✿
As usual, Adra's gone over the top in his preparations. For drinks, there's a sweet, refreshing punch; delicately pink and decorated with sprigs of flowers. There are pitchers of sparkling ice water, jugs of wine and spiced mead, and plenty of glasses to share.
Though Adra does not eat meat himself, he prepares it ably; there's a honey-glazed, roasted turkey in the center of the table, right beside a carving board heavy with seasoned, hand-carved slices of fresh beef. Red potatoes, bright with paprika and salt and glistening with pats of melting butter, are arranged in wedges around the turkey. There are woven baskets of steaming rolls, flaky and soft; platters of carrots and broccoli and asparagus; enormous bowls of belly-warming soup filled with thick wheat noodles, sliced egg, and shredded cabbage. At one end of the table, there's a plate of burgers, along with small dishes to fix them--bacon, crispy onions, sauteed mushrooms, and all the necessary condiments. He has plates of savory pies, filled with beef or pork or chicken; steamed and fried dumplings stuffed with meat and spring vegetables, plump and perfectly shaped.
The desserts are similarly extravagant: he has a plate of meticulously crafted flower and fruit cakes; some look like ripe, blushing peaches, others, he shaped into red orchids, lotus blossoms, or golden roses. He's made a chocolate tart so dark that its smooth, sugar-dusted surface shimmers reflectively in the overhead light. Cupcakes of all kinds are scattered here and there, as well as an extravagant, multi-tiered confection dripping with fudge sauce, encrusted with sliced strawberries and vibrantly colorful, fondant flower petals. There are loaves of warm banana bread; fruit tarts glittery with rainbow sugar crystals; and, under glass, an assortment of flavorful macarons baked to look like something plucked right from the starry sky.
But the most important thing about Adra's lavish banquet is this: all of the food is enchanted, laced with magic meant to inspire feelings of comfort and security. Eating it may conjure up familiar, welcome sensations or memories--nothing sorrowful or painful, and only as specific as you'd like. It could be something as simple as the feeling of a fuzzy blanket on a cold day, or as complex as a particular soothing memory. In all cases, the intended effect is meant to inspire calm and ease.
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But his words only have her rolling her eyes, and tugging at the hand on her wrist. Let go you.]
I was not running off.
[She shrugs. Present it properly? She's not sure what he meant by that.]
I thought you would appreciate it. But I can always take it back, if you insist.
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Now, then...
[Gilgamesh folds his hands in a show of good manners, glances to her with a calmer air.]
What do you have for me? I shall excuse that isn't appropriately wrapped this time.
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Ugh.]
It's not wrapped because I just dried it, with my mana. I washed it when I brought it back from the Halls of Glory. There wasn't much time, between the call, and coming here.
[And, she offers it to him.]
It's a stuffed toy. It might have been better to get you a toy to play with. A puzzle, perhaps.
[There's something that flits across her face at that.]
But I thought you would enjoy the joke and compliment to your prowess. You could have in your office or your room.
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It seems, that for something that could've been a gamble, Caren has done well for herself with this particular present.]
I like this gift. A bull suits me very well.
[For her efforts, a kiss to both cheeks. He cradles the bull close with one hand and holds her by the waist with the other. It's easy enough to manage, with her being such a tiny thing herself. His smile appears earnest, for however long it might last.]
I am glad you were thinking of me. The prospect heartens me so.
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Caren might have put too much thought into it, and told him as such with her explanation.
Her nose wrinkled at the kisses on his cheeks, and rolled her eyes at his carrying her. She would be happy once she was on her feet. People have been acting weird at her as of late, Gilgamesh included.]
As a joke. Nothing more, nothing less.
[This better not turn into an attempt to seduce her. She'll have to kick him if he does.]
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[Gilgamesh raises a single golden eyebrow. As always, the irony was lost upon him; he'd taken the gift as a genuine compliment. But if she was saying that she intended otherwise, surely that was worthy of something like punishment. Although, thankfully, nothing sexual crosses his mind, so it seemed seduction was off the table.
Still, he puppets her like a doll on her own, drawing her flush to his chest.]
How terrible of you. Truly, the most wicked of machinations. I rescind it all; I am very hurt by this.
[Of course, he claims it all while trying not to snicker. Maybe he's making a joke of her instead.]
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Really Gil, stop that.]
Tease, not make fun of.
[She sighs at him.]
If you don't want it, give it back.
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Try to take it from me.
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Annnnnd
darting a hand forward to grab that tongue.]
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Caren now has one (1) Tyrant's Tongue. What is she going to do with it?]
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Pull on it]
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[Ah, the wondrous sounds of torture being inflicted upon the unworthy. Apparently this was a weak spot of some sort, as Gilgamesh just sort of flails and shakes in place but doesn't really appear able to push her off in any meaningful fashion.
Or maybe he simply doesn't want to. Yet. That may change depending on how long this punishment continues.]
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[She smirks. Leans forward to look him in the face and...lets go.]
Stronzo. Avere una faccia da culo.
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Io parlo italiano, cagna.
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Certo che sì.
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[Remember, this is a family log.]
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No.
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[You let go of that tongue too soon, Caren. Too soon.]
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[Her hands, slobber and all? Are going back to yank at his face.]
I understood you perfectly well.
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[No, Gilgamesh. No you do not.]
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[Just the flattest look ever.]
Right now, if I had to choose between you and a chair, I'd choose the chair.
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[Gilgamesh manages to detach her hands, and wisely decides to commandeer her wrists in the process.]
This King ventures a guess you'd still much prefer to sit atop his throne.
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If I were offered the throne I would only kick it.
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