✿ 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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[Aisha doesn't mind being stained with blood. While she isn't cruel, she does love to fight, to prove herself. It's a drive in her, given by her ancestors.
She smiles, a bit flustered.]
I'll admit I like the guy, but maybe I'll see about making him bleed for you someday. Can't say I've ever heard someone tell me my violence was beautiful before.
Aisha can't say she doesn't like it, either.
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[She can understand why Aisha would want to be on top. Prove that she is, in fact, the best. She's seen it before. She wants to see how far it'll go. If she will fall.
It would be a cruel thing if she fell, like a dying firework.]
Clearly, it's under appreciated. But every time I see it I will tell you the same, whether you ever make the golden king bleed or not. Your violence is beautiful, and a wonderful thing.
no subject
[It would be a sad thing for her to fall. But she'd already fallen from the greatest height she'd ever reached, the most important one. All losses paled compared to that.
Even so she keeps climbing. What else could she do?]
Charmer. I'll be sure to give you a show, since you can appreciate it properly.
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[What lead to her own creation? Why did people like her exist? To give people someone to fight? Or to know what truly was goodness in the world?
Or to bring down people like Aisha with her, into the depth of hell and beyond? She does not know. Maybe she'll be lost as Aisha continues to climb.]
And I'll watch every single moment, heal your skinned knuckles, and praise you for your skill.
You will have my undivided attention.
[This...may be flirting.]
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[Oddly enough, she is traditional in a lot of ways for a Ctarl, which might not mean anything in the end. All she knows is going after what she wants, even if it's selfish.
Persistence, tenacity, the shaping of her own future by her own hands. Her whims are childish, but how she lives is certainly not.]
You're going to make me want to dance with you again. [How is this surprising her? How is her face getting so hot?] Your attention is probably dangerous...
But I want it all the same.
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[There's something almost jovial in that. She doesn't see anything wrong with a Ctarl being selfish after all. Or being childish. It makes her fun to watch.
Caren laughs softly, and she moves forward, letting a single finger run across Aisha's cheek.]
You're right you know. It's very dangerous and...that will ensure that you will fall for me. Because, Aisha...
I do not give up when I decide something is to be mine. Someone.
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[It explains a lot. Caren moves closer, touches her, and Aisha wrapped an arm around the other woman's back. This is nice, she likes it.
Dangerous isn't something she shies away from, even if her heart's beating faster.]
Are you sure you want to do this with me? I've never fallen for anyone before, and you're only human. There's no telling what I'd do if I got attached that way.
Could be even worse, if you wanted me just as much. Aisha wasn't made to be a plaything, pretty phoenix.
[A tsk, and then a deceptively innocent smile, with eyes that had gone a shade darker.]
You might end up being mine, in the end.
no subject
But hey, getting embraced by Aisha. Muscle, she could feel it. She laughed softly.]
You, making me your plaything? You're so presumptuous.
[She chuckles lightly, running her finger against Aisha's cheek once more.]
You may be a virile dragon, but it takes quite a bit for this phoenix to touch the ground.