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Tough crowd, Sprezzatura.

[He chuckles but continues as told. Another card slides out and flips over — it’s The Lovers.]

This one, The Lovers… [Henry pauses, running his finger gently across the design.] …This one represents connection. Nothing hidden from each other; the true self exposed, and the strength of a bond that comes from it. I think being on Pride has already proven this card’s presence in your life. Our team’s an easy representation. And…

[Ah, he only thinks of little Henry and little Sapione. Hearts exposed to each other, the desire to protect, hands linked together.

Maybe that much doesn’t need to be said.]

It’s the kind of connection that grants a different type of strength. It guarantees that you’ll always be supported if you find balance in those you surround yourself with. It sounds to me like we will always be there for you, no matter what. Through the good… and the bad.

Never alone.

[He smiles, then looks up at her again. Only one more.]

Edited 2024-06-19 04:35 (UTC)

[ his gaze raises, but hers is downcast; inspecting the pattern of the card. the lovers... a powerful sense of connection... that couldn't feel further from the reality, and now she's certain he's picking them with deliberation and trying to soothe her damaged ego. to unmake the harm of the game, which left her so completely unmade.

but she's still hiding herself, and she doesn't intend to stop. people who have never heard of Teaferth don't deserve to know.

a gentle sigh. ]

And for my last...?

[He doesn't expect her to take to the idea so quickly. It's the epitome of vulnerable, of baring yourself so completely to another person, even to someone who hasn't anything to keep guarded. Henry's a special case. Henry's always wanted that, more than anything.

Nothing to do but to let the fortune settle in her, and move along. The final card takes its place next to the other two, flipping over, and yes, it's at random. Even if narratively it isn't. It’s The Tower.

His expression tinges with satisfaction in the little burst of light within their makeshift “tent.” Henry’s learned he likes this one; he’s glad she gets to see it, too.]

And this is the Tower, a symbol of cataclysmic change. The whole world upending, sometimes violently, to make way for something new. Everything crumbling and shattering, leaving nothing untouched.

Some fall from their high tower, losing everything they ever had in the upheaval. But then there’s the lightning bolt itself—

[He taps that jagged lightning strike.]

That’s you. Bolstered by the other cards, you strike down prison walls. You make the people running Shadowpeaks topple. You make them pay, and their world will never be the same.

[Yes, this is a very good card.]

And you can take that change with you. Apply it to anyone who’s ever wronged you, and they’ll suffer for it. All of them falling down… one by one. They can’t do a thing to stop it.

[ she's the lightning bolt. she's the woman falling from her tower. she's more than the world is ready for.

now Sprezzatura reaches forward, pressing her fingertips down on the card, and fans them all together: her fortune, fated to come true. Henry Creel said so. ]

That's... good. [ low, nearly choked. ] I must be...

[ the most fortunate tiefling alive. but she doesn't say that, because she's surging forward and fitting their lips together fervently, scattering the cards as she closes that space. ]

[He doesn’t expect a kiss. When she surges forward to meet him, and their lips crash into each other, he feels just as caught off-guard as the first time this ever happened — but all the same, it takes a half-second at most for all the other emotions to catch up and collide into him with dizzying force.

Warm. Electric. A tingling buzz all up and down every nerve-ending, and his heart beating all the way up into his throat. This— this is the kind of thing that sparks changes in Henry Creel, shifting his world’s axis to lean incrementally closer in her direction. This is his little lingering hope given even more encouragement. This is that remnant of "happiness" he mentioned, the real part still living inside of him, brought to the forefront again.

After all, it’s very hard to misread intent in a kiss.

When his thoughts snap back into his place after having flown away in myriad directions, Henry manages to close his eyes and nudge forward, kissing her back. A little clumsy, but soft, and eager. The tarot cards have gone askew, and their mini-light tips over to shine directly above them, but it’s the last thing he’s worried about right now.]

[ a kiss. her mouth parted and sliding to fit in the dips and swells of Henry's lips, oh, she has wondered now and then how they would feel. just... like this, moulding to the shape of each other, warm and damp. they're soft. she'd imagined they would be. the kiss feels pillowing; makes her heart beat fast.

scrapes her fingers up his nape and clutches into his hair. this is not a slow kiss, not a strictly tender one. met by his eagerness, she meets him in kind. little breathy sound. relief. her teeth tugging and plucking at his lower lip. she is so exhausted, but she wants this, badly. ]

[They’re both worn, though once rational thought filters back into his brain, Henry’s certain he’s not going to be able to fall asleep again for a while yet. He feels alight, absolutely buzzing. She meets him with the same eagerness, and her lips are so soft, fitting perfectly against his own.

His pulse feels like it exists everywhere. Ears, neck, wrist, even his fingertips as a hand slips to move behind her back and press in near. Close. Close is nice.

She tugs at his hair, tugs at the bottom of his lip. He’s never been kissed like this before, and he gives her a low moan that might be more embarrassing if he were anyone other than Henry Creel. He presses his mouth closer to her again, and his words are clumsy still because of it.]

Ms Vaux approves?

[best fortune he’s ever told]

Yes. [ breathy, hurried; she doesn't want to stop kissing for anything, in case the exhaustion sweeps in to ruin it. her limbs are already so heavy... ] Open your mouth.

[ let her in!! ]

[😳🫡 yes ma'am

Parts his mouth for her, only to realize belatedly that she might want more room for her tongue — her very long and very tapered tongue.

His cheeks flush a little, hard to see in the lopsided lighting, but he's definitely warming up by a few degrees just thinking about it slipping inside.]

[ why imagine when he can experience? her eagerness surges anew when his lips open; yes, yes, this is what her mouth is meant for. to kiss and please. tucks the very tapered tip of it between his lips, sighing out in sweet relief, and squeezes herself closer.

this feels right. feels good. so much better than anything else today. ]

My hair...

[ tug on it. is that even clear? does it matter? ]

[It's not clear, but he can guess at a halfway point: he draws his hand up almost mindlessly—it's hard to focus on anything other than the molten heat of her tongue slipping between his lips—and threads his fingers through her hair. His hand curls, knuckles against her scalp. It's not a forceful gesture, but the way he catches strands of her hair in his grip probably gives her the little tug she wants to feel.

Meanwhile, his tongue nudges up against the underside of hers, seeking. Henry shifts his body closer, wanting to seam up right next to her, to take advantage of every place where they could touch; rip his tarot cards. But he can sort them out later.]

[ making a soft, pleasured sound into the wet juncture of their mouths--faint but so audible in the silence of late night.

it's... smothering beneath the blanket. get it off!! abandons his hair to push at it, push it down, and the rush of cool air after is a relief, and grounding, too. breaks the kiss with another sigh. ]

[That's a nice noise she makes, too. It sends a little node of pleasure traveling down his middle and warming his belly. She can push down the blanket as much as she likes (he doesn't blame her, he feels increasingly warm, too), and the little lamp topples to the side and shines uselessly against the wall next to the bed.

Takes a moment to breathe, though he doesn't pull away. His hand fiddles with strands of her hair.]

Should have started with this.

[ it's very silky... she's washed it since returning to the cabin. sharing breath, though. her heart flutters a bit. ]

Never give it to you easy...

[Silky and soft and she smells nice too.]

Making me work for it… I guess I won’t complain.

[She could have made him go through hell and back and he’d say this moment is worth it.

Dips in again, so close that his request is a bit redundant for how his lips still brush against hers-]

One more?

[ so close that he'll feel how that makes her shiver ]

One more, then.

[ parts her lips, closes them gently around his, lips and tongue and breath. warm, slick. maybe she should move her hands beneath his shirt. ]

[If she does, she’d feel just how warm she’s already making him run. Feel the way his muscles would jump and tighten, not from displeasure, but from the blissful shock of her bare hands against him. She’s certainly never touched him like that before, either.

His blood feels like it’s barely under the surface of his skin, at any rate. And it’s also hurrying down to… other places below the waistline, but even that isn’t enough to detract from the most important thing right now: her kissing him a second time.

As though to prove the first wasn’t a fluke. Not some delirious dream drifting in the wake of a wearying game. Henry kisses her right back, of course, mouth slotting open, too — his turn for his tongue to push along hers, just a taste.]

[ that's amazing. the memory had dimmed over long months—this is what it's like to have someone exult at your touch, this is what it's like to fall into another, this is what it's like, this, this, this this this. spreads her fingers out at the centre of his back, as far down his collar as she can feasibly reach in this position (not far). toys her tongue together with his, gently.

it's... relaxing...

barely a whisper, ] Have you tongue kissed before?

[Relaxing? In a way, it is. And in another way, he feels like he's a wire she's pulling taut when she touches him like that. She'll find he's very reactive to it — his top half nigh arching into her when she splays her fingers in the dip of his back.

Has he tongue-kissed before? If he was kissed anything like this when he was a teen, he would have melted on the spot, so somewhere in the middle of drawing his tongue along her lower lip, he gives a very eloquent-]

Nuh-uh.

[When would he have?]

Mmh. Then, like this...

[ exactly how she likes to kiss. sweeping tongue and kiss-swollen lips. her fingertips tingle and she presses them harder into his back. one kiss becomes two, becomes five, becomes too many to count, her tapered tongue playing and coiling around his. around, around, around... with the tip laying gently atop his. certainly no human kiss could ever feel like that. ]

[More than just one more kiss. Three, four, five. How’s a man not supposed to get excited, especially when the experience is so new?

And her tongue is just so… amazing.

It’s like a thing alive in his mouth. Coiling and massaging around, with its tip still seated atop his own. Dancing around so dexterously that it makes his own seem slow and inept — which it very well must be?

Whenever she finally pulls away, he seals his mouth around her tongue as she retracts it, feeling it slide against his lips. He is dizzyingly warm and buzzing, like she’s a new kind of euphoria for him. And that’s just from kissing and a little bit of touching!]

No one kisses like you.

[Says Henry Creel, a man who has kissed like two people ever now. He slides a leg between hers, just to feel more entwined.]

[ she can't not fuck him. ]

[ sh-shaky exhale, squirming heat moving languidly through her hips and thighs as he wends himself closer. her tongue seems to slide forever through his lips, the coolness of saliva gathering at the tip just before it tugs free, and it's making her feel lightheaded. every limb leaden.

closes her eyes. cups the side of his neck, his jaw. ]

Nno. [ no one kisses like her. then, with a hazy sort of frown, ] Sorry...

[HIS TAROT CARDS ARE HIS NEW FAVORITE THING

He swallows the taste of her down. His fingers are still fiddling with her hair, and he’s slotted closer, enjoying the way he can’t differentiate his body heat from hers.]

Sorry? [ ?? ] For what?

[ wouldn't it be nice to be naked and touched by those long fingers curled up in her hair? wouldn't it be nice to feel even more bare skin on skin? that would be so good, if she could just...

keep her eyes open...

makes a small, vexed sound, turning her cheek into the pillow. ]

Mmn... just... [ so fucking tired ] 'm... kiss me again...

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