NationStates Jolt Archive

"I'm bored." Alessa threw her hands up in the air and fell back over the arms of her chair. "Bored, bored, bored. Daray!" She rolled to her feet. "Daray! Where are you?"

"Here, Your Majesty." Her Grand Vizier appeared and bowed low to the ground. "How may I, your most humble and obedient servant, be of service to you, Oh Most Gracious Lady?" Daray continued to bow as he stepped forward and then kissed her on her outstretched hand. "Do you desire music? A change of guards? Perhaps some fireworks? Some fine wine?"

"I want to go out!" Alessa curled up on her throne and beamed at him, not even noticing that his smile became a trifle glassy at those words. "So, um, I was just letting you know that you'll have to take over for me while I was away."

"Oh, but your majesty!" Daray protested. "You can't possibly intend to go out! Why, it's not safe!"

Alessa looked disappointed for a moment, but then frowned. "But... Radmiel's paperwork says that crime is at an all-time low..."

"Your Majesty," Daray hissed, his eyes glowing red for a moment before he managed to slap his smile back on. "Perhaps you should allow me to handle this paperwork? That would free up more time for..." Unfortunately, her attention span had already wandered and she was walking down the carpet. "Your Majesty?"

"I'm going out, Daray! Don't wait up!" She sashayed happily out the door.


"Gragh!" Daray threw open the door to his private office and slammed it behind him.

"Something wrong, sir?" His assistant inquired from where he was sorting Daray's wands.

"Something's always wrong, boy. The fact I'm forced to kowtow to that ludicrous whore is a constant irritation." Daray slammed his fist down on his table. "But now something's even wronger. She's somehow gotten it into her head that she wants to go out of the palace." Daray grabbed a wand from the pile, destroying the assistant's work, and shot it at the ceiling, leaving a flowerbloom pattern.

"Oh, well what's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with that? What's wrong with that, you pathetic excuse for a wizard, is that she'll find out that things aren't as bad as we've been painting them, start getting the wrong sort of ideas, and before you know it I'm decorating a spike and you're back doing busywork at the academe!" Daray tapped his chin. "Hrm... what to do... what to do..."

"It's a shame you can't make her scared to go out again." The apprentice said, sighing as his work was undone.

Daray opened his mouth, and then frowned. "Oh, but can't I? Think, boy, am I or am I not Grand Vizier?”


“How do I look?” Alessa twirled on her feet and then leaned against one of her guards. As was usual, she was dressed in what a conservative would describe as far too little. In deference to the climate, however, she had thrown a short cloak on. The guard looked down for a moment, caught sight of her cleavage, and then looked straight ahead, only a slight reddening of his cheeks betraying his feelings. “Oh, you’re no fun.”

“Your majesty, perhaps we should be on our way?” Daray called from the waiting convertible, where he was looking on in disgust. Alessa leaned up and kissed the guard on the cheek, then hurried to his side. “Honestly, Your Majesty, I do wish that you’d be more aware of your position…”
Lighten up!” Alessa sat down and watched her guards march past, occasionally waving to the cuter ones. “So, where are we going?”

“Well, you are the Lady-Empress, Your Majesty. I would assume you can tell the convoy to go anywhere.” The Grand Vizier gently reached into his pocket and patted an object hidden within. “Perhaps a shopping trip?”

“What? Why would we need to do that?” uttered the Grummian man, gazing over his darkly-tinted sunglasses to his lovely new bride walking beside him . She was quite small in comparison to her husband, but what she lacked in height, she made up in appearances. Cute freckles spotted her cheery face amongst the long reddish locks of hair, and a thick cotton shirt conservatively covered her ample chest, but the rather drab clothing did not do her attractive appearance any justice.

“C’mon, Braaaad, we’ve already been to the beach four times this week!” exclaimed Allison in a particularly whiny tone. “My parents gave us both this honeymoon. Just lemme decide on what we should do for once, alright?”

“But…it’s just clothes shopping. We can do that back at home in Wilmington, where we wouldn’t have to be lugging around a ton of bags throughout the trip. Plus, it’s a helluva lot cheaper there too,” he shook his head and waved a folded up sheet of paper. “Here, let’s check out one of the museums nearby. I'm sure we could find something we both like.”

“Awww…but these are Roanian clothes. Back at home they’re so bland…drab…and unstylish. It’s no wonder why they’re so cheap.” She pulled at her tan skirt with an expression of disgust. “Everything here is so flashy, vibrant and full of life. They actually seem to care how they look!” She stepped up to Brad and placed her hands neatly around his neck. “Besides, wouldn’t you want me to look like the Lady-Empress?”

Brad sighed deeply with a slight grumble under his breath. He knew he couldn’t win; no, she would most likely nag him all through this vacation of theirs if they didn’t go clothes shopping. He had to give in just this once. Yet, when she mentioned Alessa, he could not help but smile. After all, he had had that rather provocative poster hanging up in his dormroom when he was in college. It had taken a great amount of work to track one of the rarest of items down in the conservative nation, but it was well worth it as he had ‘admired’ her quite a lot back then. But those days had past and now he was with Allison.

“Alright, alright,” he finally relented with a quieter sigh. “We’ll go.”

“Thank you, dear,” she smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “You’re so sweet.”

But as soon as she released him from her grasp, Allison had noticed a crowd gathering over on the nearby street. They hadn’t noticed anything of the kind before and wondered just what was happening. “What is going on over there? Is it a parade or something?” she asked out loud, partially to herself, then grasped Brad’s hand and pulled him. “C’mon, let’s go see!”

The couple hurried up to this growing number of people and peered over them, of course, standing out from the surrounding Roanians like a sore thumb, partially because of their incredibly outlandish Grummian appearances but also because they were simply human.

“Well damn.” Brad accidentally slipped out from his mouth in amazement, catching the first glimpse of the Lady-Empress riding by in her convertible. Never seeing her in person before, he noted to himself that she was quite beautiful, incredibly so by his standards, and she wore barely anything at all, not exactly leaving much to really wonder... “Ow!”

Allison elbowed him sharply in the side and shook her head. “Yes…we are going shopping after this…”

Julian Fang stood out in a crowd. It was hard not to, being a Revenian -- Halfling Ascended -- on Rudan. He was one inch over six feet tall in his stocking feet, and his muscular frame placed him right at 200 s.pounds. The hair would have helped in other locales -- a 'silver-blonde' so light that it looked like white-gold -- but that wasn't necessarily outside of the local boundaries. But it didn't really matter.

He was, technically, on vacation. And he felt naked. Being completely unarmed did that to a guy, but the locals weren't big on letting their civvies run around with weapons of any kind, and they didn't have a reputation for caring much if you had a government license backing your right to carry weapons anywhere or not.

He wasn't entirely certain why he was where he was -- he certainly wasn't dressed for it: the black jacket over tight black t-shirt that showed off his muscles to good effect, and the jacket was cut to display the breadth of his shoulders. Pants were simple black cargos, not 'baggy' by any means, but not tight, either. Just about right.

Locals had crappy booze, too, though the women were at least the right shape. Even if they radiated...complexities. Favorable fading quickly to a mild distaste. Fit, probably -- he knew, had been told, that he was handsome, beyond that was possessed of a...it was difficult to describe. A universal appeal? Didn't really fit, but it was close.

His body was as much a side-effect of his lifestyle as it was anything -- he looked good because he was active and had good 'genetics.' The other...the other was something else, as much a mystery to him as his talent for 'feeling' other people.

Sure, he'd had the usual psi-training, but he'd never developed any 'real' abilities. He could guard his mind, had excelled in the 'defensive' aspect of things, but was essentially incapable of any kind of projective effect. Kind-of a pity. Maybe if he'd a less subtle talent, he wouldn't be where he was at the moment, knowing all too well that he was the recipient of an upturned nose, even from those locals who were polite (or knew enough of Revenians to not screw around) enough not to show their reaction.

Some kind of crowd seemed to be gathering about him, and he forced himself to be calm -- he wasn't active, wasn't the slightest bit active, was here to have fun, right?

Hard to have fun when you were a dirty foreigner.

Hard to have fun when you had to carefully control your actions, lest you goof up and make it blatantly obvious that you were on a world with less than half the gravity that you were born to.

Some kind of motorcade seemed to be approaching. What the devil were the locs trying to pull on his vacation day, anyways? If he got caught up in some kind of be-damned parade, he could be caught in this crowd all day -- the locals looked far, far too frail for him to risk getting physical with them, it looked like even trying to shoulder his way through the crowd would be counterproductive.

Grand Vizier Daray Karon sulked in the full heat of public attention, seeming to grow smaller and smaller with every eye upon him. The Lady-Empress, however, was absolutely delighted by the growing crowd around them, and was soon standing up and waving, blowing kisses in the air to everyone who'd gathered to see her. The Roanians, for their part, seemed overjoyed to see their seemingly distant monarch, and even the normally downtrodden felinoids were pressing increasingly through the crowd to try to catch a glimpse before a large Salamandri claw or a kick from a Roanian sent them scuttling away again. "I think I want to see people." Alessa said, opening the car door and stepping onto the pavement just as if the vehicle wasn't moving.

"Your Majesty!" Daray called after her, stunned. "Your Majesty, get back here at once!" But his voice was lost in the roar of the crowd as the Empress' security convoy halted and her guards followed after her at a respectable distance.

The air around Alessa shimmered with her various technological and magical protections, but that didn't stop anxious Roanians from trying to get closer to her, a sensation she found wonderful. Before she had arrived as Empress, and especially before she had found relative safety on Mars, she had always been a bit uncomfortably shaped, felt a bit awkward. The reason for this danced at the edge of her memory sometimes, but never was reachable. Now, however, and especially over the past ten years, as she approached her 200th birthday, she had begun a maturity spurt, growing more and more beautiful and developed as she grew to full adulthood.

She had spurted three inches in the past few months alone, reaching 5'2. Still too short, but at least people wouldn't confuse her for a child any more. 'Not that they would anyway...' She admitted with a little smile as she felt the eyes of every hot-blooded male on her beautiful, busty little body.Still, she walked through the crowd, acknowledging bows and curtseys alike while inwardly luxuriating in all the attention.

Suddenly, she caught sight of some strangers, the man blushing and trying (and failing) to avoid looking at her, the woman (his wife?) splitting time up between glaring at her and watching her husband like a hawk. Alessa smiled and walked in that direction, the crowd parting before her like reeds. "Hi!" She said brightly to the man, ignoring his wife for the time being.

Brad froze in that instant when he realized that Alessa is talking to him. Somehow, amongst this crowd of people, he was singled out, but why? "Uh...hello," he replied to her, stumbling over his own words.

She smiled and tilted her head on its side. "It's considered traditional, when meeting royalty, to say 'Your Majesty'." She teased. "And a bow would be nice, but I'm not going to press on it." She looked him up and down, and then smiled again, even more radiantly. "Visiting my empire?"

His eyes lit up, now seeing that he had severely screwed up his greeting to the royal. He was just surprised at this meeting and not used to such introductions. "Oh! I'm sorry...Your Majesty. It had slipped my mind," he answered somewhat ashamedly, and quickly diverted over to the question she had asked. "Yes, yes. I...we're on our honeymoon here for about a week or so. It's been absolutely great so far, to say the least. Roania is so unlike our home, it's good to get out and around these foreign places for once."

Alessa smiled. "We?" She murmured, taking a step forward and placing her hand gently on his chest, her breath coming close and quick now.

Could Alessa be showing interest in him? Sure, he had a muscular body, but he was just a mere man of five and a half feet in height, short brown hair that just needed a push of his hand to get straight in the morning, and had what he figured to be just mere average looks. He considered himself very lucky to get together with such a beautiful woman as Allison, but now? He could barely think his way around this idea that suddenly popped up and took a deep breath. "Yes...er...my wife is right here. It was her parents, actually, who gave us this gift for our wedding. I think sending us here was great idea." Awkwardly he turned partially to the side and nodded to the woman next to him, who seemed to be waiting expectantly for an introduction, while eyeing Alessa quite carefully.

Alessa_Annirere leaned up on tippy-toes, and kissed him gently on the lips, her chest falling against his. "Welcome to my empire." She whispered in his ear as she fell back to her feet, smiling at him.

Brad gazed upon her in utter shock when she had kissed him, not sure of what he could say. He had his misgivings about it, but admittedly, he could not shake the fact that he enjoyed it very much. "Thank...you, Your Majesty. It's a pleasure...to be here." He inwardly cringed at the choice of words, knowing full well that his wife was furious right now. And he was right. She stared angrily at the two, mostly at Alessa, for throwing this right into the middle of her honeymoon no less!

Alessa didn't even notice the trouble she'd caused as she turned to Alison. "You're very lucky." She told the other woman cheerfully. Then, with a flash of light, several credit chits appeared in her hand. "Were you shopping before I got here?" She asked Brad, cheerfully.

Allison sighed heavily, still appearing to be quite irritated with the Roanian but less so as time went on. Meanwhile, Brad took charge of the conversation and tried to steer it in a way to lessen his wife's anger. Afterall, it would be best to avoid an incident with the head of another state. "Yes...we were actually going over to do a bit of that before we saw...the people over here."

Alessa_Annirere smiled and pushed some few million credits into his hand. "Here. Have fun! Buy your wife something as beautiful as her. That's a royal command!" And with that, she was off again, leaving Brad at the center of envious eyes from across the crowd.

"Whoa...I mean wow...I mean, thank you, your majesty. Thank you so much!" he exclaimed gazing down at the currency in his hand. He had barely enough time to shove it into his pockets before he gave her a full sincere bow, with his wife attempting some degree of a curtsey.

Alessa hummed and looked around the crowd again, then smiled and made a beeline right for the tall man standing towards the edge of the crowd, who promised to be a better challenge. Of course, on the way there she found time to kiss a few babies and flirt with a few other males,

Behind her, Daray watched her progress with a disapproving eye. 500 years of church training doesn't immediately leave you, even with a change of positions, and he felt certain that for a Lady-Empress she was being far too open with her affections. And with foreign scum, too. He gently handled the item in his pocket, though, relieved that now, at least, she was heading away from his surprise.

The guards, meanwhile, had taken the time to hold back and direct a firm glare at Brad and a rather pleasant glance up and down Alison's body before hissing in their most menacing fashion that perhaps it would be a good idea if the two honeymooners made themselves scarce and didn't speak of this again.

Meanwhile, Alessa had reached the taller male and was looking up at him, a curious expression on her face, as if she was trying to figure out how anyone could possibly be that tall. "Good afternoon." She politely, but firmly, said in an open attempt to gain his attention.

Julian felt her before he saw her -- it wasn't hard, she was potent. He'd call her 'intoxicating,' but that wasn't really the right word...it implied that her presence was somehow negatively affecting him, which it wasn't -- couldn't, with his wards in place.

He caught his first glimpse of her, and his initial impression: do people really dress like that around here? gave way to recognition. Local ruler, 'Lady-Empress' or summat. Crap. And the whole reason he wasn't a 'real' soldier -- the whole reason he was part of one of the much-honored mercenary companies that called Revenia home -- was that he didn't grovel well. Didn't deal well with royalty. He had his reasons. He didn't talk about them. Or think about them. Much.

He managed a smile, "Good Afternoon, m'lady."

She was short, but not at all un-attractive, even if she did look like something he might break by accident. Damnit, Julian! She's a foreign head of state! DOWN! He didn't even know how they did things here, knew that his own societal mores, Revenian standards, inevitably did not apply -- knew that an interested female would likely not take the Revenian approach and simply tell him that she was interested, giving him free reign to play whatever games she wanted without being a dratted nuisance, and why the hell are you still thinking about this, it's a goddamn meetandgreet, she'll probably just want to exchange greetings and move on, head OUT of the gutter!

Something...

Bow, moron!

He didn't like nob-court crap, but he could do it -well.- His bow was proper for an Ascended noble greeting a non-Ascended noblewoman of equivalent (because, frankly, when he'd been taught these things, there were only equivalent) rank(s). It was a graceful thing, not terrifically deep, not at all intrusive, perfectly appropriate, and about as meaningful as a dead fish. Prices, prices, prices...

He found himself quite unsure whether he wanted her to say whatever she needed to say and be on her way -- because, damnit, he wasn't all that noble anymore, or hang around a little longer. He wasn't even sure why he was reacting the way he was -- he didn't 'freak out' over women, as a rule. Even short, well-endowed foreign women. So why the hell was she making him nervous, and where the hell did 'hair spread out on a pillow' figure into all this? That was a goddamn Sollie fantasy, something was awry.

Alessa smiled as he bowed, and curtsied just slightly in return. "I can tell you're new here." She said, with a warm look of appreciation. "You're a... Revenian, aren't you?" She guessed. She looked about to go further, when suddenly there was a massive explosion behind her. She looked around, shocked, just in time for the second plume of smoke to rise above the crowds. Her guards panicked, running everywhere, trying to evacuate people.

She opened her mouth, but could barely manage a scream in fear when a third explosion went off, closest of all.

"Yes, I -- "

Something -felt- wrong.

Not the Empress, she undoubtedly felt quite nice.

The first explosion took him mostly by surprise -- he wasn't live, hadn't been expecting trouble. Surprise didn't last, though -- his first thought was 'protect the pretty girl.'

By the time the second explosion went off, he had an arm around, lifting her up into his chest -- he though he felt heat against his back, but that was almost certainly his mind playing tricks on him. He did feel several impacts against his back -- he faced away from the direction of the explosions. Would have been worth worrying about, had his jacket not had a CF weave liner. Battleshot would have been a problem -- light shrapnel, gravel and the like...no problem.

The third one...that was the tricky one. He felt the pressure catch him and leapt forward with it, but imparted backward moment, like he was doing a backflip. The overpressure -- the shockwave -- flung him a couple of meters, maybe, and the position he had achieved was going to leave him sore...especially on impact, but he came down with Alessa on top of him, which had been the entire point, because if she'd gone down first -- like if he'd tackled her -- he might have hurt.

She was small, and he was Revenian. Halfling Ascended. He was -dense.- Didn't float too well. As small and fragile-looking as the Roanian empress was, he wasn't going to risk her getting hurt.

He didn't think about any of these things, mind, not at length. He'd already begun acting before he realized that, logically, this might be some sort of assassination attempt, and if it wasn't -- well -- better to look a fool and rely on the RDS to help him -- was there even an embassy on Rudan? He wasn't sure.

Plenty of time to think with adrenaline pumping through his veins and the overpressure carrying him.

Impact was a bastard, though. He slid half a meter or so on his back -- damned light-gee world, jumped too high -- and that would have -sucked- had he not been wearing the jacket.

The -instant- he stopped, he knew that he was hurt -- bruised, and there was something in his leg -- but he'd survive. He got to his feet in one simple movement -- which was not really a good idea with something in his leg, but he'd live through that, too -- and dropped his right hand to his hip with the sort of blinding-fast movement that was born of significant repetition...except he wasn't wearing a gun.

Crap.

He loosened his grip on Alessa, letting her feet touch the ground. He'd react to any other threats when they happened -- and they weren't happening at the moment, so he glanced down at his leg...and immediately regretted doing so. A nice length of some sort of shiny mirrored metal had lodged itself in his left calf. That'd hurt like a bastard, coming out -- jagged and warped from the explosion as it was. He wasn't in any danger from it, though -- his augs would keep him from bleeding out, and it didn't feel real serious.

Bases covered -- he was nearly positive that Alessa hadn't been hurt, though her definition of hurt probably differed from his own, but he would have felt if she'd been injured, and an eye inventory seemed to confirm it.

"Are you alright, ah, milady?"

Stumbling wasn't something he normally did, but the 'milady' was a save. 'Your Majesty' was probably more appropriate, Sollie-style, but...pfeh. 'Milady' was protocol. Said a lot about Ascended noble protocol, there...

Alessa had no idea what was going on. One moment she had just been standing there talking, and the next there had been explosions. Before she had had any chance to establish what was going on, a man had grabbed her and gone running with her. Then the last explosion had sent them both off flying into the air, and she had just snapped.

The young empress immediately started to scream, clinging tightly to her rescuer. While the city filled with chaos and her guards searched desperately for her, she could do nothing but scream in fear and hold onto Julian, sobbing desperately into his chest."Oh light, oh light, oh light..." She whimpered, well into shock.

"Your majesty!" One of her guards appeared. "Get away from him!" The heavily armed Roanian aimed his gun at Julian, but failed to fire when Alessa refused to move, instead burying her face in his chest and moving past the point of sensibility, just mumbling in fear.

Shitfire.

Julian put one arm around the girl-empress, squeezing just enough to be felt while his free hand stroked her hair. He didn't speak, not yet, just made comforting sounds while he focused on remaining calm himself, steadying his heartbeat. Most species tended to seek to synchronize, so by breathing steadily and remaining calm, theoretically, she would seek, subconsciously, to imitate him.

He didn't enjoy having guns pointed at him, but he didn't loose his cool, either. Normally, he'd snarl off a threat detailing what he'd do to the guard with the guard's weapon, after he'd taken it away, unless said guard lowered his weapon, but he did not make such a threat.

Rather, he merely held the Empress, speaking to her as to a child. He was not unfamiliar with the situation, accepted the role he had been handed without complaint -- he'd done that the instant he reacted in the manner he did, perhaps half-expecting to be shot before he touched ground.

What he did do, though, was jerk his head at the guard in a 'get the hell over here and be the symbol that you're supposed to be, oh most pathetic of guards' gesture. Which was a lot to fit into a head-motion, but he managed it.

"Everything will be alright, milady. It's over, now. You're safe."

Alessa didn't even notice what was going on, pushing closer to Julian and crying gently into his chest. Her breath started to slow, though, which was probably a good sign. Unfortunately, her guards weren't in any mood to check for details, and as more of them showed up, they began to gain enough confidence. "Hand over Her Majesty, and you can go free!"

Whatever he might have wanted to do, Alessa had a deathgrip on his body and was in no position to be moved, nor was he in any position to move her. Soon, Daray Karon appeared. "What are you fools doing? Shoot him!"

The guards immediately locked their weapons and put a targetting lense to Julian's head. Their fingers twitched on the trigger before Alessa slowly drew back from Julian. "Stop, you idiots!" Alessa ordered, sliding around Julian and wiping her tears away with a free hand while the other arm latched around his arm. "This man saved my life!"

The guards lowered their weapons while Daray scowled and waved them away. "Very well, Your Majesty, though I urge caution..."

"Oh, go away." Alessa told her Grand Vizier, then spun back around to rest her arms and chest on his waist, looking up at Julian. "So, my hero. What can I do to thank you for your help?"

Entirely too many things going on, entirely too quickly. Julian did not like having guns pointed at him. His hand jerked towards his hip, but stopped half way -- he wasn't wearing a gun, and probably a good thing that he wasn't, because while he probably couldn't have taken them all down before they killed him, he'd have sent a vanguard ahead of him, by God.

Which would have most definitely sealed his fate. Though, at the time, it was as good an idea as any...especially when the official-looking chap showed up and ordered him shot. Even from this distance, Julian felt the Vizi-thing's...wrongness.

Then the girl in his arms -- the Empress in his arms -- saved his life.

She felt nice. Body and...mind? The simplicity of emotion, not unlike that of a child, was soothing in its own way, and attractive -- because the intellect was not at all childlike, per-se.

"I...milady, I neither require nor expect reward for my actions. I'm no hero -- I was, I guess, in the right place at the right time with a combination of training and instinct to dictate my actions. You owe me nothing."

"No idea?" Alessa raised an eyebrow. "Well, I can think of one or two, then." She leaned up against him, pushing her soft body against his chest in a very deliberate fashion, and kissed him frankly on the lips. She drew back after a moment before giving him a chance to respond or push him away, and then leaned in again for as deep a kiss as she thought she could get away with, her long, beautiful arms wrapping around his neck to hold her up there. That secure, she pushed her soft breasts as much against his chest as she could manage, closing her eyes and smiling. She broke contact for a moment. "How was that?" She murmured, showing no signs of letting go of him.

Julian blinked. Choked a little, maybe, but not much -- and for all his prior reticence, he didn't pull away. He had said his part -- what she chose to do of her own accord was her own business...and it would have been wrong to refuse what was freely given, at least, in this case.

A matter of minor interest: given his druthers, he could hold his breath for several minutes without stressing himself overly greatly. It was a useful talent in his line of work.

And elsewhere.

He smiled, "That was very nice, milady. Thank you."

Alessa smiled softly and shook her head. "Not quite. I think we should try again." She slid her hands down to his and drew them up her body to her sides, indicating by the motion where she wanted them to end up before returning her hands to his neck. She looked into his eyes, desire for him and a wish for him to... approve of her? reflected in her blue orbs. Then she slowly leaned in and kissed him again, pushing her chest into his hands and her lips firmly against his.

He rarely needed more than one blatant smack upside the head before he got a given point. Really. Honest. It was all...cultural baggage -- he couldn't, wouldn't act unless it was made explicitly clear that his actions were desired.

Didn't mean he didn't know how to do it -- he did. Age was, generally, meaningless to the Ascended...but he was old enough to know what to do with a girl.

Perhaps slightly more. His heritage, that was, one of the few things of value that he had inherited from his father. The bastard.

Simple things were less simple, or, rather, they simply felt better than they had any real right to be. It was a relatively useless talent, as far as talents went, but he had it, so what the hell?

It functioned on a entirely different level than his other talent. It wasn't psi, not even passive psi. It was...well, he didn't really know. He'd never actually heard of anything like it before -- understandable, it wasn't something that you'd really notice unless you had it, and if you had it, you didn't talk about it.

Other little tricks -- he knew many little tricks, applicable to many different situations -- he had extremely dextrous toes, for example. Not applicable here, but true nonetheless.

He let his hands respond not his will, but to hers. Another trick, combining multiple talents. His psi talent was much, much more sensitive when he had contact with the individual he was 'reading.' He'd never, ever encountered anyone capable of hiding from it -- especially not in a situation like this.

Eyes...eyes were important. His were silver, Ascended Silver, fading into blue on the fringe. Interesting effect.

Kissing was good, too -- Less effort, more skill. That was the Ascended way. Subtle, but with kick. Style.

Do it better than anyone else, and do it with style.

Alessa sighed, content in his arms for a moment. Through her dress he could feel the soft, smooth skin of her breasts. Beneath her chest her heart beat slowly as she continued to calm down. Her entire body, her entire spirit radiated sheer contentment. Her lips met his one more time as her body pressed eagerly against his hands, and this time her kiss was one of released passion and excitement, that held for what seemed like an hour before she finally withdrew. "Now what do you think?" She murmured, reaching up to run a gentle finger through his hair, not at all noticing the eyes of her guards and her grand vizier upon them. "I think that that's nowhere near enough of a reward. Maybe a medal or something..."

"Your Majesty!" Daray broke in, shocked. "You can't seriously intend to... Mmmph, mmmph!" He bought his hand to his mouth, where a rather large padlock had appeared, shutting him up.

"Now, where were we..." Alessa murmured coyly, stroking his chest.

"I think..."

He paused for a moment. He wasn't sure what he thought, to be honest. Which was a crappy answer, all things considered.

"I think that I don't need a medal, but if you want to give me one, I'm certainly not going to stop you, milady."

He suddenly became aware that he was forgetting something...it took him a few moments to realize what -- there was still a good-sized chunk of shiny metal protruding from his left leg. Given all the recent excitement -- several very strong stimuli combined with training and augmetics designed to maintain effectiveness -- you couldn't afford to slow down when your life was on the line -- and it wasn't really surprising that he'd more-or-less forgotten about it, and it wasn't really a big deal, but it should probably come out.

On the other hand, he rather liked the position he was in at present. There was something about the Roanian girl-empress in his arms that was...special. She was pretty, beautiful even, but that was not in and of itself special -- there were plenty of beautiful women in the world. Perhaps it was his talent, perhaps it was the contrast provided by the rest of the planet, but he knew then and there that he did not want to fuck this up.

Still, "I've got a piece of shrapnel in my left leg, though, and it should probably come out before it becomes an issue."

He rather wished he hadn't had to say that -- it kind of ruined the moment, but he was beginning to feel his leg threatening to give out -- he could stand on one leg for a while, especially in this gravity, but leaving the damn thing in was still a bad idea.

She frowned suddenly and released him, looking at his leg. "That won't do." She dropped the few inches to the ground and touched her hand to it. "Here, let me..." There was a warm sensation that flowed from her fingertips and into his leg, and then suddenly the bits of shrapnel popped out from it, the wound closing as if it was never there. She sat back, a satisfied look on her face, and then looked up at him. "My name's Alessa." She murmured, rising to her feet. "I think I'd like it if you call me that. And what shall I call you?"

Behind her, Daray turned red, struggling to get the padlock off his lips. The guards, at least, had backed out of noticing distance, leaving the two of them essentially quite alone.

His eyes closed for a moment, then opened. He looked down at his leg and his mouth opened slightly. He sucked in a breath -- that was about as close to a 'holy shit' expression as it got with him.

"That's a neat trick, Alessa." He stretched her name out, as if testing it. "Alessa. I like that -- that's a nice name."

He smiled, took a deep breath, "My name is Julian. By all means, use it. Julian Kel-Fang. There's other words attached to it, but they really aren't very important."

He paused, then peeled the glove he was wearing off his left hand and called the shrapnel to his hand. Quite a neat trick, but even more useless than the Touch -- might be more useful if he was a pickpocket, but he wasn't. Mostly good for amusing children, or gathering up a nice chunk of shiny shrapnel for future use.

He pocketed the metal shard -- it no longer had a point, dull from the CF weave in his pant-leg. Made a nastier wound, ragged, and shallow. He was actually very, very pleased that it seemed to be all better, as good as a very good vitakinetic could have managed.

He put his glove back on. He only wore one, only on the left hand hand. He had his reasons, though he really understood them only very poorly himself. He'd always done it, though, as long as he could remember.

"You have my most sincere thanks for fixing that little thing, Alessa. It would have been quite a time healing. I owe you for that."

He thought for a moment, then moved with a surety that he hadn't shown since he'd reacted to the explosion, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her lips with significantly more skill than he'd shown before -- or, rather, the same skill, but none of the shyness and hesitation. He was acting. Damn the torpedoes!

He made use of another of his myriad tricks, stimulating the pleasure centers in her brain just enough to make the kiss a little bit more than a kiss, without his actually doing anything more than kissing her. He wasn't subtle about it -- he wasn't trying to fool her, that wasn't the point. The point was that it was something completely between the two of them, something private -- and special.

Which made it worthwhile.

She breathes in sharply once he releases her, a pleased little smile coming to her lips. "Wow." She murmurs, quite happily. "Julian..." She murmurs the name, as if tasting it. "Nice to meet you." She laughs, blushing a bit. "Come on, let's go back to the palace and I can establish what I'm going to give you." She whistled and her car pulled up next to them.

With a pleased little grin Alessa tugged him into it after her and kissed him again, pulling his hand onto her breast and sliding close against Julian. She doesn't seem very interested in overthinking matters. She likes him, he's cute, he seems to know what he's doing, and he's a lot of fun to kiss. All she can hope is he likes her back. Beyond that, she doesn't really care right now.

"Julian..." she murmurs, kissing his neck while feeling the sensations of his hand caressing her and the pleased, bubbly feeling he's causing in her head. And then she falls silent, a little smile on her lips as her eyes go halfclosed.


Behind them, Daray snarls and goes to get his own ride, already making plans and things in his head.

Julian would smile and pull her partially onto his lap, keeping and arm around her back to support her while his other one -- his right, always his right -- did little things that seemed bigger. Julian Fang did not Grope. That was not his way. He had no wish to itemize her -- and his actions reflected that. They were no less pleasurable, mind -- he had his tricks, yes he did.

If he was anything other than content with holding her -- and if he was at all aware of the pointed change in situation, from having guns pointed at him mere minutes ago to the Lady-Empress sitting on his lap...he didn't show it. Not only did he genuinely like her -- he was a superb judge of character, how could he not be with his psi-talent? And she was worthy.

Worthy of taking time to enjoy, while he could. Worthy of more than that, to be truthful with himself, but he'd take things as they came. That was the best he could hope for, to be honest.

He smiled, bent his head down to kiss her gently, then turned her head inward to rest against his neck and shoulder, enjoying the feel of her body against his, the rhythm of her breathing, the peculiar grace and beauty of her emotions.

Being truly honest with himself, he could not remember a time when he had been happier.

Alessa smiled and rested her head gently on Julian's chest, making herself more comfortable on his lap as he gently touched her. "That feels good." She murmured, in her first spoken words since they'd gotten in the car together. She looked up at the boy and smiled sheepishly, then blushed and looked away. Her hands reached up to cover his, holding them to her body. "You must think I'm easy."

Julian's hand moved instead of his head, waggling slightly beneath hers, horizontal plane. The armored infantryman's version of a headshake, because most powered battle armor didn't express head motion particularly well. He used both gestures -- headshake and hand-waggle -- more-or-less interchangeably, no real reason. It was choice. "No. I merely assumed that you were overcome by heroic actions and countenance." The utterly deadpan manner in which he spoke made it quite apparent that he was joking.

She flushed and looked away, embarassed, but unwilling to let his hands venture away from their current grip. "I was, too..." She leaned up to kiss him gently, and then returned her head to his chest, sighing peacefully. "Thank you for that."

He had an excellent poker-face, was quite skilled at keeping his emotions from outward expression, but the real trick, the sign of a master, was to make it look you were trying, and failing, to hide a grin. He pulled her up against him a little tighter, letting his fingers add a silent "but I won't tell if you don't." Which was the idea.

She laughed at him, in a gentle fashion, and kissed his lips again. "I believe I'm the better judge of that." She sighed and smiled. "I feel better with you than I have in..." She looked away.

He slipped his right hand free of her grasp, catching both her hands with his left. The glove he wore on that hand was noticeably different in texture to his bare right hand, but was not unpleasant or abrasive. It was quite thin, enough that there was no discernable pressure-difference where the glove contacted but his fingers didn't. His right hand came up to gently bring her head around so that he could look into her eyes. "Go on. Please. If you can't say what you want to say around somebody, can't say what you really think...you probably don't like that person as much as you think you do. Or that person probably doesn't deserve you."

She looked away and sighed, her eyes moistening a bit. The grip on his hand tightened slightly, though she managed to sound flippant enough. "Well, since I was in a position to feel good about having a guy touch me!" She gave a forced laugh and looked away from him.

His muscles tensed slightly, and he squeezed her hands, gently. His right arm moved to wrap around her shoulders, just holding her against him for a few moments. He didn't say anything for several seconds, just long enough to be noticeable. "I am glad that my meager abilities have brought you pleasure, Alessa." He paused, took a breath, flicked his tongue out between his teeth. He seemed to relax again, a smile coming to his lips, "I can't, cannot, remember the last time I was this happy. Thank you for that."

She sighed and closed her eyes. Little trickles of moisture fall out for a moment, before she wipes her eyes clean. "You're welcome." She said with a tiny sigh, closing her eyes.

Julian bent down to kiss the top of her head, giving her one last squeeze before he let his arms fall away, so that he could spin her around in his lap. He held her at a distance, for a time, studying her intently. Smiling, but in a sort-of distracted manner.

Alessa looked up at him and gently touched his cheek. "What's wrong?" She murmured, a vaguely concerned expression settling on her normally vacuous expression.

He chuckled softly, amusedly, "Wrong? Nothing at all. I want to make sure that I remember you correctly. I don't suppose that you knew you were beautiful, did you?"

She smiled and looked down again, blushing. "I've been told I am." She kissed him on the collarbone. "But thank you."

Slowly, the palace appeared in the distance. She looked up at him and smiled. "Julian? Would you care to join me in my palace for lunch?"

"It would be my honor."

Alessa sighed and fell over into one of her soft cushiony chairs following their lunch, looking over at Julian. "So, um... how long have you been in my empire?" She asked after a moment.

Behind her, Daray glowered disapprovingly at Julian. "Don't ask... him, Your Majesty. We can just draw the information from our computers."

Alessa delivered a warning glare over her shoulder, and the grand vizier fell silent.

Julian shrugged his shoulders, which was a deliberate movement for him, "Oh, a day or so. Actually, 34 hours, twenty minutes, seventeen seconds. Err...nineteen. Twenty." The slightly goofy grin he wore wasn't an expression he'd shown yet.

Alessa smiled, while Daray frowned. The Grand Vizier was giving off an air of seeking malevolence, as if he was searching for something to punish Julian for. "So, you would have arrived by transport, then?"

Alessa glared up at him. "How else would someone arrive here? I don't need a chaperone, Daray. Go away."

"Your Majesty, with respect..."

Alessa's voice suddenly developed an aspect of flint. "Go. Away." Stunned, Daray retreated.

Once he was gone, Alessa turned back to Julian and smiled serenely. "And how are you enjoying it so far?"

Julian chewed his lip for a moment, then his seemed to shrug in a 'what the hell' expression, "To tell you the truth, I wasn't doing much in the way of 'enjoying' until you came along. Oh, you've got a nice enough place here, 's just not what I'm used to."

She slid gently across the room, sitting next to him. Her hand landed idly on top of his. "Well...I hope you're enjoying it now." She kissed his cheek, her arm trying to slide around his.

He chuckled, shifting his arm to accomodate her, "Oh, most certainly. I must admit, this is without question the most pleasant day I've ever had that began with getting blown up."

She looked at her feet for a moment, and then glanced up at him. "You know, it doesn't have to end."

He raised an eyebrow, and to his credit, his smile didn't falter an inch, "Oh? How do you mean?"

She took a deep breath, causing her chest to move interestingly, and then leaned up to kiss him right on the lips. "I mean, Julian... that I... want you to be with me tonight."

He smiled against her lips, opening his mouth slightly as he did so and exhaling into her mouth -- it sounded unpleasant, would have been unpleasant, had it not been yet another of his little tricks. His breath came out icy cold, a Northfell breeze. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, exactly, being a sensation not dissimilar to a breathmint, but it more was more a novelty than anything else. Which was the entire point. He drew away, then, "I..." Then he paused, took a breath, "Okay."

She giggled at him, and then held her hand up to her mouth. With a smile, she blew a burst of cold air back at him. "Two can play that game, you know." Then she leaned forward and fell against his chest, sighing almost contentedly.

He took her into his arms with an untranslatable word, murmured quietly, more to himself than anything else. A single word of High Ascended, a language that was as much intention as tonation, as much unspoken as spoken. He sought her mouth with his own, feeling her body press against his own and revelling in it, yet afraid, now, that it could not last, because he knew, knew that even for this remarkable woman, he couldn't betray himself.
--
Alessa slowly opened the door to her private quarters and smiled at him as she let him in. She was dressed in nothing but a short nightie that clung to every inch of her beautiful body. For once she wasn't at all embarassed, or didn't appear to be. She just seemed... certain. "Hi."

"Hel-lo..." Sometimes how one said a thing was more important that what that thing was. He swept forward -- which was a surprisingly apt description of the movement -- and took her into his arms, dropping partially to one knee, so that he could kiss her.

She sighed and pulled him in after the kiss was over. Once the door was closed behind them, she went on the attack, her body pressing close against him and her lips tracing his face and neck, down to his collar and then back. "We both know why we're here..."

He chuckled softly, the fingers of his right hand tracing down the back of her neck, only just barely contacting skin. His thoughts were wistful, but none of that translated to sound. He looked at her, "Well, I know why I'm here, and I think you live here...whether you know why I'm here, I couldn't say." His grin was the sort of grin one normally associated with a joke, though, really, he wasn't joking.

She pushed closer, her eyes wild. "Don't tease me." She whispered, touching a hand to his cheek. "Just... take me." She blushed.

His face stilled, and he closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. "Alessa...I..." He took a deep breath, hearing his Aunt Margarite shrieking 'Don't -try- and say it, boy! SAY IT!'. "No. I won't do that."

Her mouth opened and shut once or twice, resembling nothing so much as a goldfish. "What... of... of course you will!" She dragged his hands to her body, desperate. "W-why? Aren't I beautiful?"

He closed his eyes, wincing, "Yes, Alessa, you are beautiful. You are one of the most physically attractive individuals I have ever encountered." A thought came to him, unbidden, <but my mother was beautiful, too...>. He opened his eyes, wishing his voice sounded less like he was trying to convince somebody of something, wished that his voice wasn't breaking so damned much, wished that he could find the right words, "I can't, Alessa. I...just can't."

She began to shake. "But... I mean... everything's working... I know it is! You could! And I want you to... please..." Her desperation was obvious. She began to pull her nightgown over her head. "We...we can just start... and... and then everything will be fine. You'll see." She dropped the clothing to the ground and stood their unconsciously naked, daring him to maintain his stance. "How... how can you not want me?" She moved in closer, pushing her body against his. "How can... why would you say no? D-don't you like me...?" And then, suddenly, she started to cry against his chest, her body shaking.

"No, no... it's all gone wrong..." She pushed him away and turned her back on him, shuddering.

He pushed himself up by what felt like force of will alone. Self-loathing was a righteous bastard at times...he'd known this was going to be hard, hadn't known it was going to be this hard...had to do it. Had to. Couldn't live with himself if he didn't, but knowing that he'd hurt her made him sick. He extended his hand, letting it come to rest on her shoulder. He wanted so very badly to take her in his arms and hold her, but...he couldn't. Not after she'd pulled away from him. He wouldn't force her, couldn't do that.

"Alessa...please. It's not your fault. I want you, I do, but I can't. I...not yet. Not now. Not like this. Not and still be me."

She pulled away from him. "I thought... I thought you liked me..." She whispered, drawing her hands around herself. "W-why don't you want me? What's wrong with me?" She turned to look at him, staring into his eyes. She was scared and upset, but at the back of them was something very much like gratitude.

He let his hand drop to his side, unsure what to do with it -- funny how the mind focused on stupid things like that, "I do like you, Alessa." <I like you more than I like myself...> He shook himself, "It's not you, there is nothing wrong with you. I'm just not ready yet. I made a promise, a long time ago, that I wouldn't...rush. I can't break that promise. Not and still be me. I don't deserve you, Alessa, but I wouldn't be fit to stand in the same room as you if I broke that oath."

She curled up on the bed, shaking softly. "But... I... I want you." She mumbled. "I do. You're.. I mean..." she closed her eyes. "I thought you'd... understand."

He sat down on the corner of the bed, looking down at his hand, shaking his head slowly, "Alessa, it's not..." He closed his hands into fists, squeezing tightly, driving his fingernails into the skin painfully, though he did not draw blood. "You deserve better than me. Deserve someone stronger, who won't hurt you because he's too pig-headed to see beyond his own problems. I'm sorry that I have hurt you, and I can only pray that you will find it in your heart to forgive me."

She looked up at him. "What... what problems?" Was all she asked, sliding closer to him.

He sighed, "I don't know my father is, no-one does, save my mother, and the only things she's ever done for me were give birth and throw me at her family. I can't remember staying in one place longer than a week until I joined the military. I didn't have a childhood, because my parents weren't willing to pay the price of their actions. I swore that I would die before I made the same mistakes." He smiled bitterly, shaking his head, "Sounds stupid out-loud, doesn't it? But I still made that promise, swore that oath, and if I can't even be true to myself...I'd be just as bad as my parents." He dropped his head into his hands, sighing. "I don't make mistakes. I am one."

She reached up and touched his hair. "So am I." And that was all she said, standing up to go and get her nightgown.

He groans, falling back onto her bed, though his feet still touched the floor. He stared up at the ceiling, mostly because it was there. "I don't know what to do, anymore. Aunt Margarite always said I was an idiot. Now, I think I agree with her. Alessa, you are truly beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful. But being beautiful is like...having blue eyes. It's part of you, but it isn't you. I want you, the whole you. If I had taken your body then, that would have been all I had, because in betraying myself I would have lost the parts of me that let me value you as you are. There are millions of pretty women, but there is only one of you. I can't love your body, yet, not...really. But I'm selfish, and I want the rest. I want to know you. I want to hold you when you're sad, I want to laugh with you when you're happy. I want to help you with your problems, because I can't think of a worthier cause."

He shifted over onto his side to look at her, "And if you want me to go away and never come back, I'll do that, because I don't think I can say no to you again."

She pulled the nightgown over her her head and returned to sit next to him. "...Will you stay the night with me anyway?" She mumbles, blushing.

He extended his hand to her, "Nothing would please me more."

She pulled him in and kissed him on the lips. "Are you sure I can't convince you..."

He laughed, wrapping her in his arms and holding her tighly to him, like he was afraid that she would fly away if he let go, "Not today. Not yet. When the time is right, and not before. When I know, when I believe."