#[ thread tracker : flowers and wine . ]

[sharransepulchre]

"You're the person I'd trust to raise a cow with if... that ever came up. By the way." It is somehow said both casually, yet slightly awkwardly. Karlach just shrugging like this is a conversation topic that just always needs to be addressed.

The ex-Sharran had been kneeling at her tent, her graceful hands tending to the little plants she began to nourish, watching with excitement as they bloomed to life. She was humming a little ditty that she heard in the wind, unbeknownst to her that the source had been the very tiefling who approached her. She could feel the heat before she heard the voice that tickled her dreams - and a pleased little smile tugs at her lips. Karlach speaks, but it doesn't fully register in her mind, and she hums dumbly in acknowledgement, accompanied by a small nod of her head. Then, she pauses. Shadowheart wasn't entirely sure what she should have been expecting - but this was far from what she had in mind.

❝ i . . . what ? ❞ The smaller woman suddenly says, eyes fluttering slightly as she turns around, her prior attention directed towards the plant utterly abandoned for the sake of her companion. Her wide emerald eyes take in her appearance for a long moment, as if deciphering whether or not this was a ploy... But she was uncharacteristically awkward. Damn how her heart fluttered in her chest. She wasn't some schoolgirl - have some class .

❝ a . . . cow ? did i hear you right ? ❞ She clarifies, but with every word, her lips seem to pull into a wider and wider smile, showing off her pearly whites and her pointy canines between plush lips. A sly look twinkles in her eye, but it's nearly overshadowed by sheer delight. ❝ perhaps a milk cow ? named daphne ? an essential for living off of the land , if we ' re playing pretend . . . you ' re the type of person i would trust to chop down a cherry tree and use the wood to make a lovely little swinging bench ; a perfect addition for a wrap - around porch . . . ❞

[hellagaymccree]

Venice

something inspired by some headcanons @rupeecoloredhair sent me a while ago and now got around to finishing it. I kinda lost the threat of where this was originally going, but still liked the idea of Jesse knowing how to ride a motorcycle and Gabe not being too sure.

[more works by me]

---

Jesse’s eyes widen when his revolver runs empty. All his back-up ammo laid to waste on their compromised safe house. He sheathes Peacekeeper while a vacant car covers his back and scans his surroundings for a way out. Civilians take shelter in the shops around the narrow street of Venice. If Jesse wanted to make it out alive and without injuring anyone he had to think fast, but also come up with a solid plan and not ran down like a stampede was behind him, no matter how big the 7 guys closing in on him were. Even if he had taken down four, more seem to appear from the gaps of the streets.

Only four? He shames himself with the thought, but these folk had been too cunning for him and his team mates to see coming.

Jesse looks a few blocks away from him, where a tower of barrels stands as decoration for a wine shop. He gives up thinking for a few seconds and sprints, or there won’t be time to run later. More bullets fly past him and one brushes his arm as he leaps over the barrels and takes cover. He hisses to the burn when he sees the crimson line, but also something else: a way out. There’s an alley across from him that leads to another bright street, some citizens are peeking through to see if they can catch sight of the chaos. He pants and inhales deeply, trying to gain enough energy to get him across.

“Jesse!” He opens his eyes and can’t stop the smile on his lips when he sees Gabriel in the alley, where he hadn’t been a few seconds before.

His commander aims a gun to a block of wood holding the barrels and Jesse nods, getting ready to flee. Gabe fires and the barrels start tumbling down. The agent runs alongside them, as low as he can while bullets hit the wood. He rolls the last couple of feet towards Gabriel and both start pacing deeper in the alley as he tosses another gun at Jesse; his own shotguns sheathed at his hips.

“Gotta find a new place, boss,” Jesse says as he pants.

“Kimura’s on it,” Gabriel responds before a car speeds into their path.

Jesse aims and fires, all in a blink of an eye. The man’s head falls to the steering wheel and the car crashes into one of the walls.

“Nice shot, vaquero,” Gabriel praises as he squeezes through the gap and Jesse follows.

Just when the cowboy steps a foot out of the alley, Gabriel pulls him back from his vest. A metal bat barely missing Jesse’s nose. Gabriel tugs him close to his chest as they spin around and the commander’s shotgun aims under the attacker’s chin. He fires and brains splatter in the air.

“That’s like the 35th time you save my life,” Jesse says, scoping the street, civilians already taking cover or running away.

“37th but who’s counting?” Gabe adds, also looking around. He turns back when he hears words being screamed in Italian and pulls Jesse to start running down the street.

The cowboy sees a motorcycle up ahead, one of the few ground ones left since the hover ones took over a few years back. He grins to the sign for a formal clothing store a few feet before. “There!” He shouts as he slows his pace just enough to shot at the chains holding the sign. Gabriel catches it and use it as cover while Jesse continues to the bike.

“What are you doing?!” Gabe barks, sometimes they don’t think the same plans. Sometimes Jesse thinks what Gabriel hopes he doesn’t. The motorcycle comes alive around the wires Jesse toys with and his grin goes brighter before getting on it. “Jesse!” Gabriel hisses, not sure about the plan.

“Trust me!” Jesse calls over his shoulder, two words he usually uses to convince Gabe before they end up doing something stupid.

Gabe mumbles a curse as he walks backwards. When he counts bullets and hears men reloading, he drops the sign and hops on the bike. Jesse doesn’t wait for him to settle before he speeds, causing the older man to wrap his arms hastily around the cowboy.

Gabe regrets this decision immediately. Jesse barely passed his driver’s test years ago and he’s sure he doesn’t have a license to drive a motorcycle. But to his surprise, Jesse drives well enough under the circumstances behind them. He manages to turn on corners and speed through cars as if he knows every path of the city or has driven this bike before. They lose the men in a short amount of time and Gabe thinks about stopping once they are in the clear, but then Jesse slows to a normal speed and as the Italian landscape passes around them they don’t seem to be in a hurry anymore.  And when Jesse smiles at him over his shoulder, with the wind through his wild hair and his body vibrating under Gabriel’s fingers, nothing seems to matter. He lets himself hold tight to the gunslinger and the bike purrs under them. As if that’s the commander’s okay, Jesse speeds up and drives out of the city as the sun shifts above them.

The houses start looking different and the road changes texture from bricks to dirt. The air is fresher and the colors are wilder. It’s peaceful except for the noise they’re causing. Jesse doesn’t linger on any sights, he looks like he has his mind set somewhere, or nowhere, and all he’s doing is running away. Gabe’s heart thumps faster against Jesse’s back to the flattering idea he chose him to do so. He’s more surprised by the fact that he hasn’t stopped the cowboy. And it’s liking more and more the idea of living in the lands of Venice, in a secluded villa where they can make their own wine and can’t be found.

The daydreaming stops when they reach a hill and black has taken most of the sky’s pastel colors. Jesse looks at Gabriel over his shoulder and asks, “Do you wanna get down? Not that I mind you holdin’ on to me so tight and close.” Jesse’s voice makes Gabe flush and he gets down quickly, pulling his tablet out.

He messages his agents, checks their trackers and searches for any safe houses he might have missed in the area. He even thinks about writing to Jack if it meant not having to face Jesse, to see the way the cowboy looks at him. Like he knows his darkest secrets or what strings to play with to get under Gabe’s skin, or what threads to tug and pull his commander apart.

“Kimura found a new place,” he says, scratching his goatee as he reads from his tablet. “He and Rainer and running a search before they call it safe.” Jesse walks close to him from behind, until his right arm comes in front of Gabriel, with a mistreated blue flowers in his fingers. Gabriel’s cheeks heat up and tries to ignore it, but Jesse’s chest pressed against his back make him feel like he has nowhere to go.

“Grabbed this while I was runnin’ from the bad guys.” It’s not new that Jesse does little things like these. Things that make Gabriel feel weak at the knees and like he’s bathing in melted gold from the warmth that spreads all over his body. “Reminded me of you.”

Gabriel tries to laugh, but it comes out weak, “They always do.” It’s not the first flower Jesse gifts Gabriel. Ever since they confessed what many seemed to know that had grown between them over the years, Jesse makes it a mission to place flowers on places Gabriel—and only Gabriel—is bound to find them at some point. He has come across one or two that die waiting to be discovered, and a few on pots in case that happens again.

“Cause they’re beautiful. And ya deserve every sweet thing, sweetheart.”

Gabriel hesitates, and his hand shakes when he reaches out to grab the flower. It feels too delicate to even move, like it’ll fall apart of Gabriel’s holds it too tight. It feels as vulnerable as this moment. Like anything can break the threat holding them together. And the end, he mumbles, “thanks.”

Jesse steps back after a few more seconds of breathing Gabriel’s scent and sighs to the field around them. “I’d like to retire here.”

“It seems peaceful,” Gabriel says as he takes the case of his tablet off and places the flower, almost already pressed, inside before putting the tablet back and closing it to keep it safe.

“It smells great. Like fresh fruits being chopped and fine wine,” Jesse adds and Gabriel nods. “Would you like to live here someday? Or do you have another place in mind?”

Gabriel looks at him and it seems like Jesse wants a genuine answer, but also has hope of both wanting the same, besides each other. “Haven’t thought about it,” he answers honestly and huffs a laugh. “Maybe never thought I’d get the chance.”

Jesse barks a laugh as he kicks the grass. “Used to think the same when I was in Deadlock. Now, believe it or not, feels like I have a chance.”

Gabriel nods again because he can feel that line of hope he didn’t use to have when he looks at Jesse. Like he has a purpose to finish the years he has left in Overwatch and he will get his villa or whatever type of house he wants somewhere where the world can’t call him back to safe it. “I’m lucky,” he suddenly says and Jesse raises an eyebrow.

“Now why you say that?”

“Just lucky to have you even looking at me.”

“Hey, how can I not?” Jesse steps closer, eyes locked with Gabriel’s as he continues, “ya didn’t just give me a second chance, you’ve let me make my own choices and let me fall on my ass if I need to learn my lesson. But also give me a push to my fight if I need it. I can tell, you never chose me over the others, and they think so too. You treat us all equally and respect us the same, no matter what we’ve done. If we need ya, you’re there.” Gabriel feels his face heating up again, after cooling for a while, and he has to look away. “Yeah, yer a hero an all, but I yer so much more to me. You are human and whole, even if it doesn’t feel like that sometimes. Ya always keep us in a good mood, even when things go south.” Jesse steps in front of him, so he has to look at the cowboy praising more words. “Ya call yerself lucky, hell, I am. The thought of knowing ya see so much in me enough to like me this way, it… it makes me feel like I can take on the world every day. That’s why I like ya, Gabe. And you deserve this, no matter what those demons in yer head say. I wanna be with you.”

Gabriel seems to be buried in place, not sure if he can even more by how weak his legs feel. He licks his lips and looks down for a second before he faces the cowboy again. The younger man glows in the night and it fills Gabriel’s heart with warmth, and a storm that he doesn’t want to control. “Can I kiss you now, Jesse?”

Jesse beams to the question, “thought you’d never ask, sugar.”

They hadn’t share any moment like this, nothing with a kiss, only soft and hesitant touches. Gabe had been too concerned on what lines he can and can’t cross. This would be their first real kiss, from a pair of lips to another. Jesse already had kissed Gabriel’s cheeks many times before, another thing that melts Gabriel to his center.

Reyes stands closer, still cautions, and his hands go for Jesse’s face, carefully holding him as the cowboy steps closer to close the distance. It was a tease at first, only letting their breaths brush and the tips of their noses touch lightly. It isn’t until Jesse moves first, after what felt like an eternity, that they come together in a tender kiss that still burns to their bones. They breath deeper, trying to gain enough air to make the kiss last. Jesse holds to Gabriel’s vest, afraid he’ll pull away too soon, but the more Jesse’s lips brush against his, the longer Gabriel wants to get lost in it.

Seconds pass, maybe a minute, before they pull apart. Gabriel opens his eyes and finds Jesse’s closed, and lips softly shut before he sucks them inside to save the older man’s taste. When he opens his eyes, they’re glossy and the stars shine perfectly in them, twinkling along with his happiness, and kindling the heat that doesn’t cease inside of Gabriel.

[chocolateheal]

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[sharransepulchre]

The priestess was used to eyes lingering on her. It was a familiar sensation, even if there was not any single distinctive memory of such an occurrence. It was more of a feeling, like deja-vu. But she was used to those stares being predatory, hungry. Like eyes that were actively undressing the tight Sharran disguises she so often donned.

But this was different; a quick flicker, a glance. Was there hunger lingering behind Karlach's shimmering gaze? There wasn't a doubt in her mind about that, being starved for touch for ten grueling years- but this was about more than that. Far more than that. Behind those pools of molten gold was adoration, and dare she say love. A vulnerability that was such a good look for Karlach, and she hoped that it could match her own. She wanted to be vulnerable with her like that. Maybe she could learn, someday.

❝ you should see how i look with nothing at all . ❞ The cleric teases with a smile, lacing their fingers together, and she guides her partner out of the store. The next part of their date - the dinner. The sun was sitting a little lower in the sky, the beautiful reds and golds bleeding into purples and blues, a sunset over the harbor that seems to almost swallow up the sun. The difference in their sizes is quite apparent - Shadowheart stood much smaller than her fiery barbarian in every sense. She was slender, lithe, short - where Karlach was built, towering, tall. She had oogled those muscles on more than one occasion. Their hands also spoke of the discrepancy of their sizes. Her nimble fingers feel so protected, laced into thick, weathered digits - and Karlach's strength is so immense. Even still, that hand holds her own so delicately - and it makes her heart flutter when she thinks about it.

❝ did you have fine establishment in mind for dinner ? dine in , or take out . . . quite frankly , i would be happy with anything . perhaps a good seafood joint , if that would satiate your palate . ❞

Shadowheart had high hopes that after all of her years of experience in the cloister with meticulously crafting the perfect personas and tailoring all sorts of disguises, that she might have some vague idea of what might look nice. With all of those years, something as trivial as this should have been a walk in Blossomridge Park... Until she realizes that she has no memory of the layout of that park, nor did she have any memory of picking out any outfits for any personas. It was all theory, perhaps simply conjecture. And, not only that, but had she ever had any regal personas she had crafted? Did any of them wear anything besides black and purple?

Sharrans were very particular about what they wore. Even down to her small clothes, her standard issued skivvies were... A little sensual, if she were to admit it out loud. All in Shar's image, and they used lust and sex just as often as pliers and whips. The body was a tool for extracting information - and Shadowheart just so happened to be quite skilled. Part of her was thankful she didn't remember the process, however grueling it was.

Fingers danced across the many garbs hanging through the closets, looking for something, anything, that could possibly be appropriate for Karlach. This was a date, after all, and she needed it to be special. Hesitantly, the priestess began to venture away from the blacks and the purples - because while she looked good in darker colors - she knew damn well that she did - this had to be special. It had to be perfect.

Shadowheart's evergreen eyes, vigilant and observant, began to peruse the many fabrics hanging for the feast of her gaze. But there were so many options - and she needed a little more assistance to locate the perfect fit. Her fingers joined the cause, prowling over thread-bare garments and silk gowns, helping her locate the right one. It was much harder than she thought it was going to be. But she needed something different, something that wasn't her Dark Justiciar armor. Despite everything, she still wore the plate of her scorned Mistress - because it's protection was simply something she wouldn't take for granted. Even if she knew it made her an even bigger target.

Part of her wonders what may have happened if she went through with killing the Nightsong. And when she thinks about it too much, it leaves her feeling sick. How she so nearly sacrificed everything she could have had for that sadistic goddess. She would have had to let go of everything, to be in total service to Shar - she would have never been here. She would never have been looking through clothes, picking out something for a date - and she would have never allowed herself to fall so deeply into these confusing emotions with Karlach. It would surely spell her end.

But now? She can't think of anything else. Karlach is on her mind nonstop, more than the parasite now, and that was a shock. She could only hope that her cheeks didn't burn too bright when she turned excited eyes upon the tiefling in question.

But her fingers had found a perfect fabric - the softness divine, and her eyes followed the movement. In her hands - her choice.

A brief purchase exchange and a doffing of armor later, and the cleric steps out, finding the boisterous tiefling leaning against the counter with that warming smile on her lips. The sweetest of smiles graces her own as she steps out, taking in her broad form in that tunic that hugs her in just the right places.

❝ why , don ' t you just look handsome ? ❞ She remarks with a smile, her eyes twinkling, and her own outfit is revealed. A beautiful white gown cinched at the waist to show bountiful curves, wrapping up behind her neck and fastening there to leave her arms completely barren. A single slit follows from the bottom of the dress up to her upper thigh on the right hand side, showing a pale, pristine slender leg from bottom to top.

She tucks a strand of silver hair behind her pointed ear as she steps forward, braid pulled over her right shoulder, and her nimble fingers find the tiefling's shirt. She teasingly unties the lace near the top, revealing a little more of her infernal engine; rumbling and glowing just beneath crimson skin, a flirtatious smile playing her lips.

❝ what a good look on you . ❞ She hums, before she takes a step back and nods towards the exit, her hand held out shyly. Wanting it to be held. ❝ if you ' re satisfied with your purchase - shall we ? ❞

[sharransepulchre]

Shadowheart had high hopes that after all of her years of experience in the cloister with meticulously crafting the perfect personas and tailoring all sorts of disguises, that she might have some vague idea of what might look nice. With all of those years, something as trivial as this should have been a walk in Blossomridge Park... Until she realizes that she has no memory of the layout of that park, nor did she have any memory of picking out any outfits for any personas. It was all theory, perhaps simply conjecture. And, not only that, but had she ever had any regal personas she had crafted? Did any of them wear anything besides black and purple?

Sharrans were very particular about what they wore. Even down to her small clothes, her standard issued skivvies were... A little sensual, if she were to admit it out loud. All in Shar's image, and they used lust and sex just as often as pliers and whips. The body was a tool for extracting information - and Shadowheart just so happened to be quite skilled. Part of her was thankful she didn't remember the process, however grueling it was.

Fingers danced across the many garbs hanging through the closets, looking for something, anything, that could possibly be appropriate for Karlach. This was a date, after all, and she needed it to be special. Hesitantly, the priestess began to venture away from the blacks and the purples - because while she looked good in darker colors - she knew damn well that she did - this had to be special. It had to be perfect.

Shadowheart's evergreen eyes, vigilant and observant, began to peruse the many fabrics hanging for the feast of her gaze. But there were so many options - and she needed a little more assistance to locate the perfect fit. Her fingers joined the cause, prowling over thread-bare garments and silk gowns, helping her locate the right one. It was much harder than she thought it was going to be. But she needed something different, something that wasn't her Dark Justiciar armor. Despite everything, she still wore the plate of her scorned Mistress - because it's protection was simply something she wouldn't take for granted. Even if she knew it made her an even bigger target.

Part of her wonders what may have happened if she went through with killing the Nightsong. And when she thinks about it too much, it leaves her feeling sick. How she so nearly sacrificed everything she could have had for that sadistic goddess. She would have had to let go of everything, to be in total service to Shar - she would have never been here. She would never have been looking through clothes, picking out something for a date - and she would have never allowed herself to fall so deeply into these confusing emotions with Karlach. It would surely spell her end.

But now? She can't think of anything else. Karlach is on her mind nonstop, more than the parasite now, and that was a shock. She could only hope that her cheeks didn't burn too bright when she turned excited eyes upon the tiefling in question.

But her fingers had found a perfect fabric - the softness divine, and her eyes followed the movement. In her hands - her choice.

A brief purchase exchange and a doffing of armor later, and the cleric steps out, finding the boisterous tiefling leaning against the counter with that warming smile on her lips. The sweetest of smiles graces her own as she steps out, taking in her broad form in that tunic that hugs her in just the right places.

❝ why , don ' t you just look handsome ? ❞ She remarks with a smile, her eyes twinkling, and her own outfit is revealed. A beautiful white gown cinched at the waist to show bountiful curves, wrapping up behind her neck and fastening there to leave her arms completely barren. A single slit follows from the bottom of the dress up to her upper thigh on the right hand side, showing a pale, pristine slender leg from bottom to top.

She tucks a strand of silver hair behind her pointed ear as she steps forward, braid pulled over her right shoulder, and her nimble fingers find the tiefling's shirt. She teasingly unties the lace near the top, revealing a little more of her infernal engine; rumbling and glowing just beneath crimson skin, a flirtatious smile playing her lips.

❝ what a good look on you . ❞ She hums, before she takes a step back and nods towards the exit, her hand held out shyly. Wanting it to be held. ❝ if you ' re satisfied with your purchase - shall we ? ❞

Shadowheart finds endless relief that she is not the only one excited for this. This whole premise, the idea that they were going to go out on a dinner date together after shopping for new clothing was enough to send her heart fluttering. What sets it off even more is when one of those giant hands slips into her own, her eyes widening with surprise - but so does her smile.

She giggles to herself as she's dragged into the shop she pointed out, not even having a moment to do the same for Karlach before she's being tugged in. Her eyes immediately begin to survey the size of the shop, ready to peruse their options, to find something that would be just right.

❝ okay , okay . ❞ The priestess hums, glancing down occasionally to where their hands are joined - and she doesn't want to let go. Her emerald gaze catches on the contrast between their hands; her pale, slender fingers slipping so easily between massive red digits, like her hand was meant to be held by such a grip. It was lovely.

But she couldn't get distracted - shopping. Right.

❝ i ' m afraid we ' ll need to shop in different sections , darling . you ' re a little larger than me . ❞ She quips, brow cocking up, and her lips twitch into a broader smile. Reluctantly, she draws her hand from the other woman's, fingers dragging along her palm as if she doesn't want to let go. ❝ so . . . surprise me . ❞ She hums, a twinkle in her eye, before she steps away and slips between the hanging clothes to find something suitable for herself.

[sharransepulchre]

Shadowheart finds endless relief that she is not the only one excited for this. This whole premise, the idea that they were going to go out on a dinner date together after shopping for new clothing was enough to send her heart fluttering. What sets it off even more is when one of those giant hands slips into her own, her eyes widening with surprise - but so does her smile.

She giggles to herself as she's dragged into the shop she pointed out, not even having a moment to do the same for Karlach before she's being tugged in. Her eyes immediately begin to survey the size of the shop, ready to peruse their options, to find something that would be just right.

❝ okay , okay . ❞ The priestess hums, glancing down occasionally to where their hands are joined - and she doesn't want to let go. Her emerald gaze catches on the contrast between their hands; her pale, slender fingers slipping so easily between massive red digits, like her hand was meant to be held by such a grip. It was lovely.

But she couldn't get distracted - shopping. Right.

❝ i ' m afraid we ' ll need to shop in different sections , darling . you ' re a little larger than me . ❞ She quips, brow cocking up, and her lips twitch into a broader smile. Reluctantly, she draws her hand from the other woman's, fingers dragging along her palm as if she doesn't want to let go. ❝ so . . . surprise me . ❞ She hums, a twinkle in her eye, before she steps away and slips between the hanging clothes to find something suitable for herself.

Shadowheart's curious eyes flicker about the city as they move, taking time to admire every little detail of the shops and citizens they pass - subconsciously, keeping an eye out for anyone who she could have potentially recognized. She had already seen one familiar face when they entered the city initially, several days ago. A Sharran agent, who called her disgusting to her face, and he could see how she was disgraced. How she had fallen from Shar, and was no better than the shit he walked on in the sewers.

How they were going to come for her, because she was marked.

The last thing she wanted to do was put anyone in danger, since she knew they would strike at night. Would they hunt her, kill her? Kidnap her? Kill her companions? Every following option was as viable as the last, knowing Sharran assassins. This has certainly lit a flame under her shapely ass to get to the House of Grief soon, to end this once and for all and save her parents.

But she was on a date, with the woman who didn't know she had a heart after all - but it was Shadowheart's, rather than her own. Cradled in those war-weathered red hands. Falling in love was dangerous; she would have done well to avoid it. But... She didn't choose this. It just happened. Karlach was the only thing that could pull her attention away from the cloister. She finally felt at ease, like she hadn't for days.

Her companion's eyes wandering across her face was regarded yet not acknowledged by the ex-Sharran, choosing instead to simply appreciate those eyes raking over her features as she acted none the wiser. She draws in a breath, at hearing her excitement, and the priestess genuinely returns her energy.

❝ good . ❞ She says, her soft laugh accompanying it sounding like sweet music, breathy in just the right way. ❝ i don ' t have any real memories of the gate , despite growing up here and spending my life here . perhaps you can show me all of the best places to go - i ' m certain you ' re the person to turn to . besides , i can ' t say i would mind being arm - candy to such a strong , gorgeous woman . ❞ And she laughs again, light and airy, as she gives her bicep another squeeze. ❝ look ! how about that shop ? ' facemakers boutique ' - now , that sounds like it could be worth a gander . shall we ? ❞

[sharransepulchre]

The city is buzzing, it's alive - it's ignorant. Or, perhaps the denizens truly choose to not worry themselves with the quakes and the world potentially crumbling down around them. Perhaps they don't truly care; perhaps the frivolities of a potentially world-ending event couldn't have bothered them less. Did life really mean so little?

Or, was it more about living life to the fullest, regardless of the end to come?

Perhaps it was a more comforting thought. After all, Karlach loved life, and she did not let such unavoidable ends stop her from enjoying what she wanted, what she needed. It was admirable. Volatile engine or not, though, Shadowheart wasn't going to let her go. Engine be damned, she was going to do whatever it took to ensure that Karlach was alive, that she was safe. Even if both ends could not be achieved simultaneously. Even if she had yet to admit her feelings for the larger woman, she couldn't deny that there was something brewing in her chest, in those dark nights where she sat with the tiefling and split a bottle of vintage. Something between them, with playful flirts and witty banter.

Now, they could explore that... Because they were going on a date.

❝ my , i suppose there are no premium outlets in avernus , are there ? i ' ll just have to confirm that for myself . ❞ She offhandedly comments, knowing already what she must do - where she must go. But her thoughts are pulled elsewhere, her lips pursing inquisitively.

❝ hmm . i . . . ❞ She started, her brows furrowing a bit, before a defeated look graces her features. ❝ i don ' t remember . but , i don ' t believe i ever did . there were a plethora of outfits to peruse and personal tailors in the cloister , and any new accessories were acquired by outside means , to my knowledge . i don ' t have any memory of if i ever had or not . so . . . a fitting pre - date , then , isn ' t it ? ❞ She confesses in a soft tone, but it isn't prickly or defensive - the amnesiac's tone expresses defeated acceptance.

Her slender hand caresses the tiefling's bicep slowly, appraising the rough flesh just beneath her touch - scarred and scorched, but she would never shy away from that part of her. She was very accepting and wanted nothing more than to kiss every scar and every mar, every engine bit and every brand until the barbarian no longer saw of them imperfections.

They were a testament to her strength. Just the same with her own scars.

❝ perhaps we can make of this a habit , in the future . going on dates , pre - dates . . . ❞

It's as if Shadowheart can see the world in Karlach's eyes. As silly as it seems, she can imagine all of these sweet and perfect things that she had been wanting - needing. A life away from this violence, this bloodshed. Finally, the worst of it seemed over for herself when she freed her parents of Shar's grasp... And freed herself of the manipulative goddess' games. She chose to send them to their goddess, Selûne, as they had asked her for. To live her life for her, and no one else.

At least she has that choice now. And with that freedom, she was choosing to do what needed to be done.

Why ignore the wants of her heart? It became harder and harder to act as if it were non-existent as her own eyes follow over Karlach's features, ones she had caught herself admiring over a hundred times by now. Big, soft looking lips, a plethora of scars, one splitting her brow in a rather attractive way - little spiky horns jutting out of her skin juxtaposed just beneath a broken and a curved horn. Writing, carved into the keratin of said horns that she wanted to trace with her fingers, to memorize every damn detail of her perfect face.

Flitting to her lips again, lingering for just a touch too long, before she catches herself and corrects her gaze, fixing to look into those pools of molten gold once again. Captivating.

The most graceful smile touches her plump lips at that comment, eyes twinkling mischievously, and her heart flutters as weathered, claws fingers slide into her palms. Karlach's hands must have been twice as big as hers - and her damn knees shook with excitement. Damn the blush staining her pale cheeks. Still, she would try her damndest to play it off.

❝ quite . i may get a little jealous if a group of boisterous inebriated patrons saw you in all of your nude glory before i . ❞ She murmurs, delighted, and she all too happily loops a slender arm into the larger woman's own, her fingers sliding up to land against her impressive bicep. Together, they begin their lazy stroll out of camp, talking about anything that they fancy, and make their way towards the city - a short walk away, where she intended to lighten her coin purse; find the perfect outfit. The perfect outfit, for the perfect date.

With the perfect woman.

[sharransepulchre]

It's as if Shadowheart can see the world in Karlach's eyes. As silly as it seems, she can imagine all of these sweet and perfect things that she had been wanting - needing. A life away from this violence, this bloodshed. Finally, the worst of it seemed over for herself when she freed her parents of Shar's grasp... And freed herself of the manipulative goddess' games. She chose to send them to their goddess, Selûne, as they had asked her for. To live her life for her, and no one else.

At least she has that choice now. And with that freedom, she was choosing to do what needed to be done.

Why ignore the wants of her heart? It became harder and harder to act as if it were non-existent as her own eyes follow over Karlach's features, ones she had caught herself admiring over a hundred times by now. Big, soft looking lips, a plethora of scars, one splitting her brow in a rather attractive way - little spiky horns jutting out of her skin juxtaposed just beneath a broken and a curved horn. Writing, carved into the keratin of said horns that she wanted to trace with her fingers, to memorize every damn detail of her perfect face.

Flitting to her lips again, lingering for just a touch too long, before she catches herself and corrects her gaze, fixing to look into those pools of molten gold once again. Captivating.

The most graceful smile touches her plump lips at that comment, eyes twinkling mischievously, and her heart flutters as weathered, claws fingers slide into her palms. Karlach's hands must have been twice as big as hers - and her damn knees shook with excitement. Damn the blush staining her pale cheeks. Still, she would try her damndest to play it off.

❝ quite . i may get a little jealous if a group of boisterous inebriated patrons saw you in all of your nude glory before i . ❞ She murmurs, delighted, and she all too happily loops a slender arm into the larger woman's own, her fingers sliding up to land against her impressive bicep. Together, they begin their lazy stroll out of camp, talking about anything that they fancy, and make their way towards the city - a short walk away, where she intended to lighten her coin purse; find the perfect outfit. The perfect outfit, for the perfect date.

With the perfect woman.

There was just something so magical about Karlach that simply enraptured her so.

From the very first moment she clapped eyes upon the bloodied barbarian, whom Wyll accused of being a devil, she could feel her heart stutter in her chest. It was, of course, nothing more than an admiration of her - a woman who could throw her over her shoulder and carry her to safety should the need arise - for she always found her eyes wandering across such immense strength that so few carried. Perhaps she had a thing for it -- well, if she were honest, she did. A preference for size differences. So, it was only natural that a seven foot tall barbarian built like divinity chiseled into mortal worshiped stone would give her a second glance. It wasn't like she was in love with her.

That was the truth. Until it wasn't.

More and more, she was punished by Shar via wound to the hand - and Karlach never seemed to relent when she snapped at her about the pain. In fact, the tiefling had patiently asked questions - and Shadowheart was often frustrated when she didn't have the answers. She was sick and tired of saying, ' i don ' t remember . ' It was always along those lines, because she never remembered. It started small, with bouts of healing here and mindless conversation there - and, there was the whole untouchable debacle.

And Shadowheart always had an inclination for doing things she wasn't supposed to.

Karlach interested her more than she cared to admit out loud, and she so desperately wanted to place her hands against the tiefling, damn the burns to her palms or otherwise. And when she was able to lay hands against her... That spelled the end. Always admiring the beauty of the scarred warrior, feeling her heart flutter in her chest, sitting closer to her on cold nights regardless of the blazing campfire - any excuse to be close.

The priestess' expression relaxes into something graceful as she searches Karlach's face, her eyes lingering across her lips for a beat too long. Oh... Every inch of her was carved to be the perfect woman. Perfection, made into flesh, big and red and arousing, with a personality so bright it could light the darkest of sanctuaries. Shadowheart would know - because Karlach did it to her every day.

❝ well , i wouldn ' t worry too much , if i were you . ❞ She chuckles, her emerald eyes dancing with delight, and she subconsciously shifts just a tad closer. ❝ i think you would look equally charming in elegant attire ; and nothing at all . ❞ She teases softly, an attempt to ignore the way her heart pounds in her chest at the very notion of it - and how giddy she gets at the idea of a predate.

❝ i could use a change of wardrobe myself . . . i might have overdone it with the black and purple , oh , all my life . ❞ She remarks with a sigh, which admittedly sounds a little dreamy - before she reaches her palm forward; an invitation .

❝ let ' s find something dashing for you - dress you up , handsome as a devil . ❞ She playfully quips, lips twitching up into a fond smile. ❝ i can ' t wait another moment - whenever you ' re ready . ❞

[sharransepulchre]

Being honest was somehow the easiest and the hardest thing for the ex-Sharran, at the exact same time. She had spent her entire life being taught to lie, to deceive - and she even needed to deceive herself, just to make it through the nights where she lay in her own pool of blood when Mother Superior deemed it necessary that she pay her penance. So often did she need to lie, to herself, to others, but even then she was a truly terrible liar. Most of the time she could only deceive through omission, and even then she ended up spilling what she knew at some point - and that alone had probably been reason enough that her memory was wiped so often. She found those books, those journals, where she was studied like some sort of specimen. To have her memory wiped hundreds, possibly even thousands of times over the course of forty years --

But her personality remained intact. Somehow, she still knew who she was, who she wanted to be. Her will was stronger than any other in the entirety of her cloister. She would never break, no matter how hard Shar tried. No matter how hard Viconia beat her, she would only stand taller. Forty years of indoctrination and torture, and she still managed to become the woman she was today - fantasizing about a cottage with a woman she felt her heart throb for. A woman that she would give anything for, one that she was certain she could find a solution other than death for. How else was she to stay warm during the cold winter nights, without that big, burly body and warming engine, like a hearth she desired? But more than that - Karlach meant so much. She couldn't just lose her - not after everything.

She could feel that aforementioned heat further when the tiefling took a casual step in, enough for her heart to flutter giddily in her chest, and no amount of schooling her expression could ever keep her lips from twitching up more with delight - her laugh lines present in such a broad and utterly delighted smile. It mirrored the expression of the woman before her - so tantalizingly close that she could reach out and brush her fingers along those impressive muscles, worshipping her physique, appraising the strength rippling just beneath the flesh. The emerald irises of her gaze twinkle like unearthed jewels, polished and refined once wrought from the depths of her lashes.

One, two, three dates - and why stop there?

❝ food and wine ? why , that may just be the fastest way to my heart , you know . ❞ She says in a friendly yet heavily flirtatious manner, and her body language undoubtedly reads interest in Karlach - from the way she's angled and open, and a slender hand rises to tuck a stray strand of silvery - white hair behind a pointed ear. At her sudden proposition, Shadowheart releases the most melodious laughter that has dared to leave her lips in the presence of others - and she attempts to stifle both her laughter and her grin behind the back of her hand.

❝ truly ? ❞ She asks with almost a child-like wonder. Karlach, asking her on a date? An official date? Oh gods, what should she wear? How would she act? How - what - where --

❝ my darling barbarian , i would be delighted to join such a beautiful woman for dinner . wear your best , mm ? i can ' t wait to sit there and just drink in the sight of you . ❞ She murmurs in a nearly sensual, breathy manner, her thick lashes batting in an amorous fashion - flirtatious and confident on the outside, while her heart is beating so hard she can damn near hear it thundering against her ribs.

This was silly, wasn't it? Something silly, and purely theoretical, and it shouldn't have brought her so much joy to fantasize about - and yet it did. For some strange, seemingly inexplicable reason, talking about a potential future she can have now that she's free from Shar's clutches was relieving; it was real, like it never was before, because she was free. The next step was imagining who she could possibly share it with... And Karlach in those boots left her heart longing for the future. For what couldn't be... Probably.

Would it be more painful, in the long run, to talk about a future she wanted with the one person in their group that she couldn't have? Perhaps it was. But.. but gods be damned, she would need more than that to stop her from doing so. She couldn't possibly ignore the rhythm in which her heart beat in the presence of the barbarian - the way her gaze lingered across her scarred but otherworldly beautiful countenance, how she appraised that immense strength she admired far more often than she would ever verbalize -- bleeding hells , i ' m doing it again .

Seeing that pointed smile growing across the tiefling's thick lips only leads to her traitorous heart fluttering more. How long did she intend to dance around this? Oh, her eyes were lingering on her lips again, weren't they? Look somewhere else - like her big, strong hands. weathered, calloused, strong , and - no , that won ' t do . She relents, dragging her gaze back up to those deep blazing hue of her irises, her own hands finding one another to rub and twist at mindlessly.

❝ a date , is it ? ❞ She says, her attempts to mask the excitement in her tone fruitless in its endeavor. ❝ i already intended on procuring quite the menagerie . what secluded cabin , farm and vineyard would be complete without a big, buxom barbarian to herd the cattle ? ❞ She jokes quietly, but only in the manner in which she expresses it. It's a want, a need, and her smile softens a little as her left thumb brushes against the back of her right hand. Subconsciously touching the scar that will never hold her back again.

❝ why , you haven ' t even bought me dinner yet . ❞ She playfully says, rising to her full height - and still Karlach towers over her. Just the way she likes it. Pursuing this attraction was a dangerous thing. She should really stop.

❝ and if . . . such an invitation arose ? theoretically , of course . . . ❞

[sharransepulchre]

This was silly, wasn't it? Something silly, and purely theoretical, and it shouldn't have brought her so much joy to fantasize about - and yet it did. For some strange, seemingly inexplicable reason, talking about a potential future she can have now that she's free from Shar's clutches was relieving; it was real, like it never was before, because she was free. The next step was imagining who she could possibly share it with... And Karlach in those boots left her heart longing for the future. For what couldn't be... Probably.

Would it be more painful, in the long run, to talk about a future she wanted with the one person in their group that she couldn't have? Perhaps it was. But.. but gods be damned, she would need more than that to stop her from doing so. She couldn't possibly ignore the rhythm in which her heart beat in the presence of the barbarian - the way her gaze lingered across her scarred but otherworldly beautiful countenance, how she appraised that immense strength she admired far more often than she would ever verbalize -- bleeding hells , i ' m doing it again .

Seeing that pointed smile growing across the tiefling's thick lips only leads to her traitorous heart fluttering more. How long did she intend to dance around this? Oh, her eyes were lingering on her lips again, weren't they? Look somewhere else - like her big, strong hands. weathered, calloused, strong , and - no , that won ' t do . She relents, dragging her gaze back up to those deep blazing hue of her irises, her own hands finding one another to rub and twist at mindlessly.

❝ a date , is it ? ❞ She says, her attempts to mask the excitement in her tone fruitless in its endeavor. ❝ i already intended on procuring quite the menagerie . what secluded cabin , farm and vineyard would be complete without a big, buxom barbarian to herd the cattle ? ❞ She jokes quietly, but only in the manner in which she expresses it. It's a want, a need, and her smile softens a little as her left thumb brushes against the back of her right hand. Subconsciously touching the scar that will never hold her back again.

❝ why , you haven ' t even bought me dinner yet . ❞ She playfully says, rising to her full height - and still Karlach towers over her. Just the way she likes it. Pursuing this attraction was a dangerous thing. She should really stop.

❝ and if . . . such an invitation arose ? theoretically , of course . . . ❞

"You're the person I'd trust to raise a cow with if... that ever came up. By the way." It is somehow said both casually, yet slightly awkwardly. Karlach just shrugging like this is a conversation topic that just always needs to be addressed.

The ex-Sharran had been kneeling at her tent, her graceful hands tending to the little plants she began to nourish, watching with excitement as they bloomed to life. She was humming a little ditty that she heard in the wind, unbeknownst to her that the source had been the very tiefling who approached her. She could feel the heat before she heard the voice that tickled her dreams - and a pleased little smile tugs at her lips. Karlach speaks, but it doesn't fully register in her mind, and she hums dumbly in acknowledgement, accompanied by a small nod of her head. Then, she pauses. Shadowheart wasn't entirely sure what she should have been expecting - but this was far from what she had in mind.

❝ i . . . what ? ❞ The smaller woman suddenly says, eyes fluttering slightly as she turns around, her prior attention directed towards the plant utterly abandoned for the sake of her companion. Her wide emerald eyes take in her appearance for a long moment, as if deciphering whether or not this was a ploy... But she was uncharacteristically awkward. Damn how her heart fluttered in her chest. She wasn't some schoolgirl - have some class .

❝ a . . . cow ? did i hear you right ? ❞ She clarifies, but with every word, her lips seem to pull into a wider and wider smile, showing off her pearly whites and her pointy canines between plush lips. A sly look twinkles in her eye, but it's nearly overshadowed by sheer delight. ❝ perhaps a milk cow ? named daphne ? an essential for living off of the land , if we ' re playing pretend . . . you ' re the type of person i would trust to chop down a cherry tree and use the wood to make a lovely little swinging bench ; a perfect addition for a wrap - around porch . . . ❞

[sharransepulchre]

There was just something so magical about Karlach that simply enraptured her so.

From the very first moment she clapped eyes upon the bloodied barbarian, whom Wyll accused of being a devil, she could feel her heart stutter in her chest. It was, of course, nothing more than an admiration of her - a woman who could throw her over her shoulder and carry her to safety should the need arise - for she always found her eyes wandering across such immense strength that so few carried. Perhaps she had a thing for it -- well, if she were honest, she did. A preference for size differences. So, it was only natural that a seven foot tall barbarian built like divinity chiseled into mortal worshiped stone would give her a second glance. It wasn't like she was in love with her.

That was the truth. Until it wasn't.

More and more, she was punished by Shar via wound to the hand - and Karlach never seemed to relent when she snapped at her about the pain. In fact, the tiefling had patiently asked questions - and Shadowheart was often frustrated when she didn't have the answers. She was sick and tired of saying, ' i don ' t remember . ' It was always along those lines, because she never remembered. It started small, with bouts of healing here and mindless conversation there - and, there was the whole untouchable debacle.

And Shadowheart always had an inclination for doing things she wasn't supposed to.

Karlach interested her more than she cared to admit out loud, and she so desperately wanted to place her hands against the tiefling, damn the burns to her palms or otherwise. And when she was able to lay hands against her... That spelled the end. Always admiring the beauty of the scarred warrior, feeling her heart flutter in her chest, sitting closer to her on cold nights regardless of the blazing campfire - any excuse to be close.

The priestess' expression relaxes into something graceful as she searches Karlach's face, her eyes lingering across her lips for a beat too long. Oh... Every inch of her was carved to be the perfect woman. Perfection, made into flesh, big and red and arousing, with a personality so bright it could light the darkest of sanctuaries. Shadowheart would know - because Karlach did it to her every day.

❝ well , i wouldn ' t worry too much , if i were you . ❞ She chuckles, her emerald eyes dancing with delight, and she subconsciously shifts just a tad closer. ❝ i think you would look equally charming in elegant attire ; and nothing at all . ❞ She teases softly, an attempt to ignore the way her heart pounds in her chest at the very notion of it - and how giddy she gets at the idea of a predate.

❝ i could use a change of wardrobe myself . . . i might have overdone it with the black and purple , oh , all my life . ❞ She remarks with a sigh, which admittedly sounds a little dreamy - before she reaches her palm forward; an invitation .

❝ let ' s find something dashing for you - dress you up , handsome as a devil . ❞ She playfully quips, lips twitching up into a fond smile. ❝ i can ' t wait another moment - whenever you ' re ready . ❞

Being honest was somehow the easiest and the hardest thing for the ex-Sharran, at the exact same time. She had spent her entire life being taught to lie, to deceive - and she even needed to deceive herself, just to make it through the nights where she lay in her own pool of blood when Mother Superior deemed it necessary that she pay her penance. So often did she need to lie, to herself, to others, but even then she was a truly terrible liar. Most of the time she could only deceive through omission, and even then she ended up spilling what she knew at some point - and that alone had probably been reason enough that her memory was wiped so often. She found those books, those journals, where she was studied like some sort of specimen. To have her memory wiped hundreds, possibly even thousands of times over the course of forty years --

But her personality remained intact. Somehow, she still knew who she was, who she wanted to be. Her will was stronger than any other in the entirety of her cloister. She would never break, no matter how hard Shar tried. No matter how hard Viconia beat her, she would only stand taller. Forty years of indoctrination and torture, and she still managed to become the woman she was today - fantasizing about a cottage with a woman she felt her heart throb for. A woman that she would give anything for, one that she was certain she could find a solution other than death for. How else was she to stay warm during the cold winter nights, without that big, burly body and warming engine, like a hearth she desired? But more than that - Karlach meant so much. She couldn't just lose her - not after everything.

She could feel that aforementioned heat further when the tiefling took a casual step in, enough for her heart to flutter giddily in her chest, and no amount of schooling her expression could ever keep her lips from twitching up more with delight - her laugh lines present in such a broad and utterly delighted smile. It mirrored the expression of the woman before her - so tantalizingly close that she could reach out and brush her fingers along those impressive muscles, worshipping her physique, appraising the strength rippling just beneath the flesh. The emerald irises of her gaze twinkle like unearthed jewels, polished and refined once wrought from the depths of her lashes.

One, two, three dates - and why stop there?

❝ food and wine ? why , that may just be the fastest way to my heart , you know . ❞ She says in a friendly yet heavily flirtatious manner, and her body language undoubtedly reads interest in Karlach - from the way she's angled and open, and a slender hand rises to tuck a stray strand of silvery - white hair behind a pointed ear. At her sudden proposition, Shadowheart releases the most melodious laughter that has dared to leave her lips in the presence of others - and she attempts to stifle both her laughter and her grin behind the back of her hand.

❝ truly ? ❞ She asks with almost a child-like wonder. Karlach, asking her on a date? An official date? Oh gods, what should she wear? How would she act? How - what - where --

❝ my darling barbarian , i would be delighted to join such a beautiful woman for dinner . wear your best , mm ? i can ' t wait to sit there and just drink in the sight of you . ❞ She murmurs in a nearly sensual, breathy manner, her thick lashes batting in an amorous fashion - flirtatious and confident on the outside, while her heart is beating so hard she can damn near hear it thundering against her ribs.