#mercysought: maxima aurum

[immobiliter]

@mercysought sent a meme: [ readjust ] sender comes up behind receiver and readjusts their stance (maybe holding a gun, holding a golf club, aiming for something, etc.) to help them what if maxima and silver did sword/knife fighting? fun training? adjusting to his new leg? Akin to what he does with flint?

       “ Didn't realise this was yet another of your talents. ”

       Every day since their return from Charlestown, Maxima continued to impress him more and more. Her hands, delicate and yet precise, guided him into a stance that not only made his hold on the flintlock rifle more comfortable, but steadier as he aimed it towards the empty bottles that had been set out for target practice. Seeing as he was now stuck with the crew of the Walrus for the long haul, Silver figured that he'd better catch up with the rest of the men who had placed him into this position of responsibility in the first place.

       The vote for ship's quartermaster had been a popularity contest, or indeed more like a pity party, but certainly not one based on talent and nautical acumen. He could barely decipher a set of nautical charts. He'd only just learned the difference between aft and forward, starboard and port so as to not hesitate whenever such an order was given out. Oh, and he could barely walk, even with the assistance of the prosthetic.

       Worst of all, his men didn't even seem to care. They thought he was the right man for the job, the man who could steer Captain Flint in a direction that would benefit the crew's interests, instead of the captain's own. It was all Silver could do to try to maintain that illusion.

       Lining up his shot, he waited for Maxima to step back before squeezing the trigger. A miss, but a narrow one. Progress was slow, but he was getting better. He just needed to keep going, no matter the ever-constant ache in his leg, screaming at him that he should rest. Once the ship set off, there would be no rest, only the constant pitching back and forth of the deck as it navigated the waves.

       Lowering the rifle in order to reload, Silver turned to her — clad in trousers and a shirt like the rest of his men, a world away from the finery he had originally known her for. A flicker of hesitation crossed his brow. “ Are you sure you want in on the crew? ” She had insisted, citing that the Walrus had once been her home crew, and that she wished to return to it again before the ship set out. He couldn't help but wonder whether it was wise. “ Nassau is now awash in Spanish gold and, in the absence of Miss Guthrie, she needs someone who knows how best to make use of it. ”

       It wasn't that he didn't trust Rackham to see to it that the gold was secured and the fort repaired, but... the man looked like he could do with all the help he could get on that front.

[immobiliter]

       For all that Flint wanted clarity regarding Miss Aurum's stance on his and Miranda's plan for legitimacy in the eyes of the English Crown, he was not so naïve to think that she would merely hand her opinion to him on a silver platter. Where she might once have been a member of the Walrus' crew, fighting for the respect of both the captain and the other men in a world that would not grant her mercy on account of her sex, she was now a civilian businesswoman, renowned in Nassau for her ruthlessness and guile. Even for him, maybe in spite of him, given their history, she would not easily give anything up for something not of equal value in return.

       But she would also only step foot on the Walrus again, accompany them all the way to Charlestown to negotiate with Peter Ashe, if there was some benefit to her. And Flint needed to determine what that was, and whether it would put these carefully orchestrated, if significantly changed, plans of his into jeopardy. Charles Vane was obstacle enough; he did not need another.

       “ How might it prove useful to negotiations? ” he asked immediately, casting aside any further pretence or games. This was too important for any of that. Lord Peter Ashe was notorious for hanging pirates in his very harbour; for all their shared history, Flint knew that this would be an uphill battle. His expression remained unchanged, unconvinced, unmoved by the deliberateness of her small gestures. Her usual patter did not work on him and they both knew this — but far be it from him to break years of technique. “ Convince me that it will, despite not knowing the man personally, and you will have safe passage to Charlestown to do as you will. ”

She feels the coming of an inhale, the sharpness and the flaring at the sides of her tongue. She relaxes her shoulders and lungs as much as one humanly could, though she feels that the half, crooked smile betrays her. Maxima Aurum, knowing the business of Nassau like the back of her hand, knew that nothing came for free in this mound of cursed sand - least of all from him.

   “Of course.“ she paused, a small clipped smile is allowed on her lips (sharp with annoyance peeking through the edges). One that did not reach her eyes. There was no need to pretend now between the two of them "I would not expect anything else.” from you.

Least of all when she was the one who requested it, especially given her involvement with the ledger. Gates might have seen it differently, but Gates was not there to keep their negotiations from boiling over. Gates would never be anywhere beyond his grave at sea. Her eyes scan the crowd for Mr. Silver who she had heard had not only survived the ordeal but had seemingly made good on his promise to make friends.

Impressive, and dangerous. More dangerous than she first anticipated.

In the best of conditions, it would already be a tall request, one extra body on board that was not working was one extra mouth to feed. Maxima did not miss the smell of salty water, sweat and heavily calloused hands. She did not miss the freckles on her face and neck. She did not miss the peeling of the skin. The dark depths looking back at her whether she looked up or down. It was a tall request for him, as captain, but it was one for her too: The life on the ship was not one she missed.

They had a reason to want to arrive quickly if the information she had was to be believed. They also would likely have a reason to return quickly - to leave Nassau at this point, even with Eleanor, would amount to more mutiny and more people to discipline. She did not wish to be away from Nassau longer than necessary - while some meetings required a light and nuanced hand — others required her presence.

Shifting on her chair, she pulls the cup closer to her face. Her hand holding it closer to her face, elbow resting atop the table. From where the crowd stood, they saw a woman potentially fawning at an unimpressed Captain Flint, one that rested the lower part of her face against said cup. Away from fleeting curious eyes.

   “I do not know the man himself…“ she pauses, green eyes focusing on his ”However, I am willing to depart with the information I’ve received over these few weeks which, I’m sure, would be undoubtedly very useful to your negotiations.“ with the back of her hand, carefully to avoid the jewelled rings, she pushes the long hair over her shoulder "In exchange, for safe passage to and fro.”

[dracaeons]

@mercysought | continued from ...

Ashur laughs. It's a fair point — not one that most people in the Imperium tend to take seriously. For all that Tevinter's citizens are convinced to hate the Qunari, they do have some things in common. People here might not quite make their titles into their sole identifiers, but— it's a near thing.

"Both, I suppose." He certainly has plenty of both to go around, these days. Too many, some might say. Enough that there are some things that he needs to ... collaborate on.

He watches the smoke curl away from the cigarette, and dissipate into the city air.

"Minrathous is changing," Ashur comments, after a moment's silence. Everywhere is changing; the whole world feels like they're all standing at the edge of a high cliff, waiting to find out whether they'll be jumping, or if someone is going to have to push. It's made him rethink some things — forced him to try to imagine a way forward. Change always does; Ashur just hopes it will take them in the right direction. "I've been thinking, maybe I should consider doing the same."

[skyheld]

a kiss attempting to convince the other party to stay . And a kiss that seals a promise for maxima and shianni

kisses more kisses | @mercysought

Late morning light is streaming in between the plain curtains in front of the window, and Shianni knows she should get up and get started with her duties of the day. A list lies ready for her on the desk in her small study. The stalls are already opened on the small market by the Vhenadahl, she can hear people walking by on the street below, calling out greetings and today's offer of fresh-baked bread. She has been awake for some time, thinking that she should get up. But her nose is buried in Maxima's hair, her arms around the other woman as they lay beneath the covers. Maxima's spine is perfectly fitted to the curve of her body. She doesn't want to leave.

A dog barks outside, and Maxima is stirring against her, yawning. She turns over onto her back, still in Shianni's arms, until she can turn her head and look at her, bleary-eyed and smiling faintly. The sheet has left an imprint on her cheek and there is a smear of lipstick on the side of her jaw-not from Shianni wearing it but from Maxima kissing her with it until her lips were stained enough to leave their own marks. Seeing it, the faint image of her lips on Maxima, Shianni thinks she ought to start wearing lipstick.

Their first kiss of the morning is slow and sleepy, Shianni's hand travelling down Maxima's arm to draw her closer.

"It's late", Maxima says, pulling back with a disappointed frown. "I have work to do, and so do you."

"Mmmm. Nothing that can't wait for this", Shianni says, lips barely lifting from her skin as she trails kisses along Maxima's jaw, to the soft spot beneath her ear. "We can stay. A little while", she says, lips moving down the pale throat as Maxima's hand comes up to bury its fingers in her hair and she makes a noise that sets Shianni's whole body on fire.

A breathy laugh as her clavicle is reached. "You are very persuasive, Bann Tabris."

"I know", Shianni says, grinning. Then she pauses, lifting her head. She can read Maxima, she knows what her tells are, but it never hurts to make sure. "Though if you really have to leave..."

"I don't." She laughs again, inhaling, the hand at the back of Shianni's head pressing down just slightly, giving the gentlest of guidance. Shianni takes it, inching down Maxima's body. "Not yet. A little while longer. Just promise me it won't cause you any trouble."

"I promise, lady Aurum", Shianni says, her head dipping down between Maxima's breasts, her lips finding new spots for kisses.

[iniziare]

“Maxima, my dear,” came immediately in full theatrical exasperation, right when that ever recognizable staccato of heels struck marble. It was an echo sharp in nature, ever present— and perfectly representative of one Magister Aurum. A force of nature she was, one way or another. “You do have a knack for appearing precisely when my life is on the brink of calamity— or glory. A miracle, a headache… who can say? It’s as though the fates themselves can’t decide if they’re punishing me or granting me some cosmic favor.”

The smirk didn't last, however— an oddity, certainly, but it faltered as if the weight of something unsaid pressed far too heavily on his tongue. And yet, the words themselves suddenly proved elusive to him. Funny how that worked. “I, ah… I heard, about what you did. Supporting me, I mean. For Archon.” All dramatics, and theatrics drained from his tone then, leaving it quieter, gentler, as his hands were found to twitch in slight as they rested to the desk, momentarily abandoned by their usual flourish. “Dangerous. Bold. Thoroughly mad.” And though a smile surfaced, it would not quite manage to reach his eyes. “It’s not the sort of thing I expect from anyone, least of all someone as sensible — or as infuriating — as you.” A beat passed, a pause, as a gaze of grey finally met one of green as it had many times prior, and yet never quite like this. The sincerity truly did cut through the bravado like sunlight through a storm. “So… thank you. I imagine you’ll have some remark to diminish it, but it matters. To Minrathous, and… to me, I suppose.”

Starter call: Dorian // @mercysought (Maxima)

[martyrmarked]

𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋, 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌, in ways that hint at more than just the usual measure of necessary caution. there is a purpose and a plan within her that sidri cannot yet see the contours of though it is presented, admittedly, with far more intriguingly than most of what and who now steps before her. (somewhere those scales had tipped such that she no longer steps before others. rather, her title presents enough weight that people now come before her.) ❝ if nothing else, let it be remembered that the inquisition seemed to excel at bringing people together. ❞ sidri smiles without a hint of irony, though her next words are deliberate. ❝ dorian's decision to stay with the inquisition cannot be a popular one in your homeland, i imagine. it's one i think was very brave. ❞

too bold, perhaps, but more than enough to send a message to the woman now before her. dorian is an ally, yes, but also a friend. sidri wonders if the message will wind its way to the north or if maxima will instead choose to tuck it away neatly within pockets no doubt lined with silk.

❝ the mage rebellion caused enough chaos across the south even before the disaster at the conclave. it has been our hope and our goal that the inquisition might be able seen as a force to unite rather than further divide. too many have been overlooked and disregarded, their plight ignored. it is our honor to try and help where we might. ❞ sidri replies thoughtfully and it isn't a practiced line, it isn't a measured statement designed to placate all and offer up nothing, but rather some glimmer of her truth shines like light on water. ❝ the south is nothing without its farmers, without its workers and merchants and craftsman. in helping them, we believe we can encourage stability. rest assured, lady aurum, that whatever you find is a vast improvement from only a few months ago. ❞

there is still so much to do and that ever-growing list is enough to make her head spin if she thinks too long of it. reports of red templars scouring orlais, rumors of darkspawn in the western approach, venatori to the east - all of it somehow seems to have fallen squarely upon her despite no crown resting to her brow.

❝ if you wish, lady aurum, the inquisition would be happy to send scouts and soldiers to accompany your retinue if you wish or, should your holdings be near our camps, we'd be happy to prepare reports for your review. ❞ sidri offers with an easy smile, a delicate hand turning outwards towards her.

it's generous, yes, but allies are expensive and most are hardly as interesting as maxima aurum.

sidri pauses, tongue tapping against the roof of her mouth before she continues, and the usual gilding of the inquisitor flakes away for something more earnest. ❝ cooler heads would be greatly welcomed in the south. i do not blame the fereldans their passion nor the orlesians their love of the grandiose but both can prove tiresome when quick solutions are in short supply. i suspect you feel the same, lady aurum. ❞

   "Ah yes," a pause, a small knowing grin and a dangerous glint behind dark eyes as she leans her head to the side "Dorian of House Pavus is quite the character."

Against his better judgement, it seemed. perhaps that sort of charm worked well enough to make the youngest of magisters within the Magisterium to your side. To be charismatic and to speak the words that people wanted to hear while they allow you to become a pariah is part of the Tevinter charm it seemed. But again, she didn't know many of the younger guard of the Imperium to know judgement if it hit them in their pretty and well educated faces. Maxima's smile grows and her shoulders roll easily "From what I have heard, of course, alas I have not yet had the chance to meet him in person."

Dorian had not been in Minrathous when she arrived, not there to be introduced to her by his very well to do father though it was clear that he had wished for. Maxima had heard the most interesting of rumours about the man, now she only needed to wait. She was sure she would not need to seek him out, given the small moment, she was sure that Dorian himself would find it a point to find her.

   "I make it my business to know our friends to the South." friends are lightly spoken, but Maxima appreciated them enough. Orlais was still in a state of upheaval and looking at how things were it was unlikely they would regain control of the trade routes without the potential for violence for the next year. Ferelden... Well, beyond the demons and the bandits at the borders with refugees pouring from the templar mage conflict - it seemed more and more she would need to find a like-minded business partner in the Free Marches.

A thought for another time "Even if they sometimes lack vision, it is hardly a unique fault strictly to those from the South." she was sure that anyone that looked and had been to Tevinter knew much about thier wonders and how it was all built atop slave labour. Much as they would like to say they were the bastions of the future, perhaps that future should not come to pass "Now, mind, a little bit of wariness is always healthy, but paranoia is hardly ever called for."

Her head tilts to the side, eyes falling on the Inquisitor for a moment with a growing smile. Perhaps she just wanted a good company and some warm gossip, was that truly too much to ask? And then, her eyes wander through the room looking specifically to the reflectivity of glass.

   "Partly, yes." the diplomat finally answers "The House Aurum" she "has quite a few investments in the surrounding areas, and I am trying to assess the damage." which, so far, had meant that she had a long list of to dos and people to fire and rehire once more. A lot more bodies to return home than she had anticipated when she traveled south - though perhaps she should not have been surprised about that given the Tear was seen all the way in Tevinter. Maxima hums with a smile "As well as call for some cooler heads to prevail."

[trickstercaptain]

@mercysought​ sent a meme: ❝ Doesn’t matter how good you are in Nassau. On your own, you’re fucked. ❞ from maxima on our verse ;)

He’d known that something was amiss the moment his cabin boy came to tell him that she’d requested an audience in his cabin. Jack was not as experienced in the politics of Nassau as some of the other captains who made port here, but there was one thing he knew for sure: if you wanted an audience with Maxima Aurum, you went to her. She didn’t come to you. Few knew that she’d started her endeavours at sea with the rest of them, but she’d made a name for herself in favours and information, making her an invaluable asset to the day-to-day running of the island. And when you were invaluable, you let those in need flock to your door. Not the other way around.

Whether that made Jack special or not, he couldn’t tell. This felt more like a warning than anything else. A setting of boundaries. A threat not to cross them and make himself another enemy.

In her defence, Jack had been getting suspicious. Not of Maxima herself, but of what he was hearing from Rackham about Flint. The rumours had filtered through to his men, too, meaning that he was unfortunately duty-bound to investigate for himself -- even though he would have preferred to just leave Flint to his self-sabotaging scheme and mind his own business. Jack Rackham, too, he knew was only sniffing around the scent because he was picking up the pieces of Charles Vane having lost both his ship and more than half of his crew. To cross Flint would be to cross all three of them

And yet he sat in his cabin across from his newfound guest, sipping one of the two drinks he had graciously poured for this tête-à-tête, wondering what on Earth was so important for Miss Aurum to come to him and assert her authority. Fifty million pieces of Spanish gold, was what the rumours said. It wouldn’t have been the most outlandish thing for Jack to go chasing after in his time.

“ You get a lot more peace and quiet though, love. ” An easy smile, an indifferent shrug, but Jack’s eyes were as sharp as hers. “ Although, being on a ship full of thirty other men --- and two women --- means I don’t even really get that. ” 

Time to see how long it would take for her veiled threats to become fully-fledged ones.

[marblecarved-aa]

@mercysought sent a question: “ And just who might you belong to ? A pretty little thing like you ? ”

source: the last unicorn ( 1982 ).

Pretty ? From under strands of hair, wide, blue eyes observe this unexpected interlocutor and, on instinct alone, hand rises to where jaw meets neck, fingers brushing against the cracked, ashen skin found there. Her fingers are too short to completely hide the scar, still she spreads them to better hide the scar from other's gaze. This, Shireen does slowly, lest too quick a movement attracts other's attention. She keeps her hand there even while she bends her knees and bows her head in a curtsy.

In all these efforts to hide the scar, Shireen forgot her manners. Luckily for her, Lady Selyse is not here to behold such a lack of politeness, though justified. Indeed, the lady in front of her took her by surprise — it was not at all her intention to be impolite !

❝ My lady, ❞ sweet-toned greeting accompanies her hesitant curtsy and, perhaps in unneeded caution, Shireen decides not to pronounce Princess and introduces herself thus: ❝ I am Shireen of House Baratheon, ❞ of Dragonstone. ❝ May I ask ... ❞ she begins, now rising her head to fully see her interlocutor, squinting up at her curiously. ❝ Who are you ? ❞ 

[morsvmordre]

@mercysought​ said: A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards. for maxima and draco!

if you asked him , it was a rather grand display. what with his theatrics and pansy’s desperation , they could have brought anyone to distress . . . anyone except her of course.  

and she had been the only target , the only concern , the only opinion draco had cared about in the first place. having her sweep through the room without a care in the world —but one too many entertainers in her wake— had not simply gutted him. it had ENRAGED him beyond measure. and he’d screamed at his reflection in the bathroom mirror for damn near ten minutes before —inevitably— chasing after her , clearing her audience with not a word at all. 

then the argument had commenced.

except - it wasn’t really an argument , was it ? because they didn’t argue. they never argued. it wasn’t in their nature. or rather , in hers. and he’s supposed to say that it’s okay , that she means as little to him as he seems to matter to her , but that’s just not true. and draco has never been good at being complacent. if he were , they may not be in this predicament in the first place. 

or this one. you know , the one where she plays coy , and he ends up spilling his guts with his own sharp tongue.

❛ I only did it because you don’t bloody see me otherwise , Max ! ❜ 

there is a moment of brief silence , filled only with his heavy breaths and her liquid consternation. And not a smirk in sight. It unnerves him , makes him forget where he is , but what he knows is that he’d come here for some kind of absolution , and instead , he stood here in chains. bound to the realization that no matter what he does or who he is with , she is every waking thought he is capable of having. 

and there is no fucking antidote.

he isn’t certain who moves first. all he knows is that they meet in the middle , and his hands find her neck ( GENTLE ) while her nails carve out a place in his ribs , and the only thing that keeps them upright is the wall now at her back. their lips , their tongues , their teeth; all at war with one another , neither willing to retreat. neither knowing what on earth a white flag is. he snatches the air from her lungs just as she snatches it right back , and there is a tug - o - war to which neither is complacent to. this is how they are. this is WHAT they are. animals.  

and one can never tame the other.

he does not breathe when he pulls away , does not speak , does not dare open his eyes. all he knows is her scent and her touch and the buzzing in his lips and the ache in his sides. he does not dare look upon his medusa — which is . . . not the woman herself but what he feels for her. yet , if that alone could turn him to stone , it wouldn’t hurt so much , would it ?  

but if he had managed to open his eyes , even for just a moment , he would have seen that hers were still closed too.

[dullahaunt]

@mercysought asked: they look at you and see whatever they want… because they don’t see you at all. (maxima)

sentence starters: the invisible life of addie larue by v.e. schwab (not accepting)

The data shard sits on the table between them. There's red wine. She drinks it often. Kron sees the room around them bend and twist on her glass, his figure distorted and blurry, blurry red. He hates wine.  

Kron doesn't hate this, though: a stable relationship. A predictable outcome like a=b, b=c, so a=c, fixed and never deviating, something he does not have to worry about. He's known Aurum for years. Those years, betrayed only by the varying lengths of her hair. 

"And I suppose I am a simple man for you to see." Kron makes it sound like they’re talking about someone else, far removed, even cheeky. His eyes are dull and don’t blink.

[immobiliter]

@mercysought sent a meme: ❝ as thrilling as the next adventure may be, in the end, you’re always left with that same feeling. ❞ // from maxima to garrus

How boring his C-Sec desk had seemed the day he’d arrived back on the Citadel, loathe though he’d been at the time to admit it. Admittedly most of the Citadel had been a smoking ruin after the mess left by Sovereign, which proved a considerable distraction for a while ( no shortage of crime after that kind of chaos, along with all of the work involved in cleaning up and rebuilding ). But Maxima was right: after all that excitement and adventure, of travelling across the galaxy with Commander Shepard, of saving said galaxy from a Reaper, no less, to return to the same paperwork and bureaucracy he’d been so disillusioned with before was... disappointing.

Sure, he’d been lauded along with the rest of the Normandy, given a rather nice bump in salary, too, in light of his decision to return to policing the place he’d helped to save. But despite all his promises to Shepard that he was going to go back to helping people from his position in C-Sec, some part of him wished that he’d gone with them. Now that Saren was dead, he had no real business being on a human Alliance crew, but, with the number of times his mind wandered to what sort of hell they’d likely gotten themselves into this time, he might as well have still been there in spirit.

Maybe he should have said to hell with it and reapplied for Spectre training. His dad would have something to say about that, he was sure, but what good was filing reports -- as he’d been doing before meeting Maxima for lunch -- doing for anyone out there?

“ If there’s a spare adventure to be had, Maxima, you know better than to keep it from me. ” Twin mandibles twitched in what were the first hints of a smile. Theirs was an unlikely work friendship to be sure, though it felt familiar to be sat with humans while eating his own dextro-friendly food. More humans were beginning to swell C-Sec’s ranks in recent months, but they were still outnumbered by Turians -- hardworking, diligent reminders of all he’d ever struggled to be. “ I’m almost out of far-fetched stories from the last one. ”

[immobiliter]

       I do like the sound of the third option. Silver figured she would; if they were indeed birds of a feather as he'd suspected, then he knew she would want something from him that she considered valuable. A stake in the Urca's treasure wouldn't have cut it, despite her now being a party to its discovery: material gold was not as valuable as information, or secrets, and he had a feeling what he was about to offer her would be something of that variety.

       A low scoff escaped his throat as she mirrored both his words and his actions. He leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over his knee — the very picture of feline apathy as he waited, hearing her out. “ I am a man of my word. ” Words uttered, perhaps, with a ludicrously straight face, all things considered. “ And even if you don't believe that — which you have every right not to — I will not be going anywhere until that share of the Urca's treasure is in my possession. Should you desire a return on your investment, as I would hate to call this thing between us a debt, then you need look no further than the deck of the Walrus in order to find me. ”

       In all honesty, he did not wish to find himself at odds with Maxima Aurum. Not just because she seemed like a fearsome foe — something that, in and of itself, would not deter him, seeing as he'd just attempted to cross Captain Flint himself — but because now he had crossed him, allies would be desperately needed.

       Another smile crossed his face, one matching her own. “ That, I would argue, is something only you can answer. ” He reached for the cup on the table, taking a drink. “ As I'm sure you have already discerned, I have very few scruples. ”

Oh what she would have paid to have been a fly on the wall of the Walrus. She smiles openly into the back of her hand. She could only wonder what had gone through Mr. Gates’ mind, and Flint’s too, though she guessed that by the way that the chips had fallen that he hadn’t seen it until it was too late. None of them had. And perhaps that had been what had made the difference between her joining the Walrus and his unceremonious conscription. 

   “A trade, a trade…“ singing those words until they became a hum. Shifting her head so that her chin came to rest to the top of her wrist. Green eyes move from Silver to one of the corners of her rooms “I do like the sound of the third option.”

In a dreamy tone, light and relaxed those words are spoken. Her face squares on his once more as her weight is adjusted. She did not doubt for a second that he would likely be able to discern enough. The question was not whether he would be able to do such things, in Maxima’s mind, it was whether such information was to come in time to keep his head on his pretty neck. And she guessed that was part of the reason why he had asked in the first place.

   “Cards on the table, then.” she mirrors his movement as well as his words with a closed-mouth grin, leaving forward and pushing the cup of wine softly to the side “There are many that would look at you and see a fool of a man who heads into the beast’s maw with confidence. Not because he is prepared, but because he cannot see that the pillars he is surrounded by are actually teeth.” Maxima leans in, smiling as she did before “Many who would come to a very quick conclusion on the likelihood of your return to pay such debts.“ 

Even if she thought that they would be wrong in their judgements. Many had likely thought that she would be dead by the first week aboard the Walrus and yet she was still there. A dead man might tell no tales, but the desperate squeal of one before they are snuffed out could do a world of damage. And men had very loose tongues when the fear of death came crawling. She would know.

   “But the question that burns my tongue is another, dearest.” the words drop to a whisper as her eyes wrinkle in a smile. Both elbows rest on the table and the back of both of her hands holding her head. All of the golden and jewellery hidden by the heavy shadows of night. A secret spoken between lovers and conspirators in the dead of night by wine and candlelight.

   “What could a cook” her smile broadens to reveal the briefest glimpse of her teeth “bring to the table that would be worth this information? And what would he be willing to offer?”

[bornpariah]

       The music swells ——— it’s quite a pretty sight. Magelights drifting to and fro, lush fabrics draping across windows, Minrathous glimmering and ancient and magical ( breathing with it / seething with it ) beyond, and beyond even that there lies the purity of the night sky. Conversation is an undercurrent to it all, people murmuring and laughing and speaking loudly, at length, meaningless words that would amount to nothing at all, were those people to have any sense. And they tend to, at least in part and in measures and in increments, otherwise they would not dare to show their faces here, amongst a vat of vipers ——— sharks, to some.

       He spots her across the way, never given to the darker pallets of their forebears nor their colleagues, and thus never difficult to spot. He amuses himself, for a moment, with the fact that they match, once more ——— match in the loosest of senses, that is : Dorian is swathed in his customary white and gold, jewelry glittering and fabric perfectly pressed. He leans closer to Maevaris and speaks quietly, melodious besides the music, before peeling away and weaving between attendees, customary smile on his face, returning passing greetings, stealing a wine glass from a passing server simply to hold.

       What? He knows very well not to drink anything without pause nor consideration.

       ❝ Magister Aurum, ❞ a warm greeting, accompanied with a raised glass and a nod of his head, smile widening and threatening to become an outright grin. ❝ What a pleasure ——— quite the festivities, wouldn’t you agree? ❞ he gestures to the room at large with his glass, tilting his head to catch sight of a knot of people across the dancefloor. ❝ Lady Decimus must be in a state right now. This may very well outshine her for the event of the year, unless rather drastic measures are taken. ❞

@mercysought / maxima ♥

[synthmama]

@mercysought said: a kiss on the cheek - maxima || spots to kiss.

The Grand Game was never something Quinn was born into, but it is a tool she learns to wield just as any other. By some extension, it must be a lucky thing, then, that it holds her in place from an earnest response at the sight of such a familiar face. A face she thought she trusted. And one whose trust is now brought into question.

Maxima was not there to witness the crackling, crumbled remains of the Durant estate. She was not there to choke on the blackened smoke in search of survivors. She was not there to see the half-charred remains of Comte Durant, bloodied and burned. 

And more importantly: she was not there to learn that the remains of Shaun were never, ever accounted for. 

“What a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance. Magister Aurum, was it?” Painted lips curve in a smile. Quinn leans in, and Daphné follows suit. The woman kisses her on the cheek, but she is focused on other things. Does the magister tremble in guilt, in fear, in confusion of what happened? Or is it all merely coincidence, and she lives in ignorance of that dreaded night. The question burns. So too does Quinn’s rage.

But she is not so reckless as to not point that anger in the right direction. So before  Daphné can even pull back, Quinn turns, speaking softly at the woman’s ear. “See me when this is over. There are things you must know.” 

[cybled-a]

@mercysought said: ‘ i can see you want so clearly to kiss me. ’ from maxima to shiro i changed it because i can woigberg

she’s bored. he doesn’t blame her. he’d be bored too, cooped up in his own apartment for days on end, unable to go anywhere with a bodyguard and a pair of security frames. he himself had spent the day watching her work from her office, stationed at the door, occasionally walking the outside perimeter. anything to stretch his legs and get his blood flowing. the last perimeter walk he takes his time, glancing over the edge of the roof of the building for any likely spots that a spotter might make their nest. but it’s all clear, like it’d been the last five times he’d made the rounds, and he heads back inside, slinging his rifle by the strap over his shoulder. 

it’s late now, and she’s spilled herself languidly along the leather couch in her home office while a decanter of wine fills the room with its tempting scent. and she’s bored. he can feel it in the playfully dangerous way she watches him, like a cat toying with its next meal. 

i can see you want so clearly to kiss me, she says and it shocks him still, the utter blatancy of her mannerism at times. makes what passes for a heart thrum a little louder in his chest. because it’s true. he does want so badly to kiss her. 

his footsteps are swallowed by the thick rugs spread over the tiled floors, the edge of his cloak a whisper at his heels. her eyes are gleaming with amusement, his optics tracing the shape of them and then the shape of her lips, the smooth line of her jaw, the delicate column of her throat. he leans over her, and she tips her head back for him, his gloved hand moving to her throat to sweep around to the nape of her neck, careful of the beautiful spill of her hair. 

“ maybe i do, ”   he admits quietly between them, the faintest space between her full lips and his.   “ but i don’t think that’s in my job description, miss aurum. ”

[archontem]

                                                     @mercysought

                                            MAXIMA AURUM