#he wouldn't have appointed her as the coordinator otherwise

[heycupcake]

"Why does she always overreact?" he says My brother in christ, her aunt/surrogate parent just died, and you removed her from her life on Earth, unable to bring her back? She's stranded in time and space with super intelligent aliens who keep calling her planet primitive, and in the short time she spent in the Tardis the universe almost died, Earth almost got invaded by alien frogs who wanted to convert all humans into robots, and she got possessed by a perverted snake entity?

Tegan you queen you're too kind

(I just know they had a talk between The Visitation and Black Orchid, a good wholesome moment of talking it through like a crew)

[sanguinesorcery]

"I don't like YOuR tone puny empress." Said the wall of a man while he got closer. Movements were noticeably less coordinated but just as firm. He took hold of her shoulder in one hand whilst craning down to meet her height. "But for some reason I still like--" He'd hiccup. Involuntary of course. "- like you. Did you do something t'your hair...?"

"Whatever, come here." The leverage from his hand upon her shoulder was used to pull her closer. He leaned in at the same time and pressed his lips upon her own. ( @uramii ofc, 23 for the roulette :p)

I Want the K || Accepting What's Got It All Bothered? || Accepting

23. A kiss influenced by alcohol

Normally, Fariah could only hear the towering Gerudo. It wasn't like he was the silent type and she always prided herself on being able to tell where he was at any given moment with a flick of one ear or the other. But today?

Today he had opted for overwhelming another sense of hers. She could smell him now. Which wasn't to say she minded it usually; there was always a certain musk with working men she actually kind of liked. But this wasn't the usual musk. Just by watching him, she was already aware of his intoxication, a weird half-practiced stutter in his movements and the light sway as he steadied himself.

She instinctively put her casting hand over any nearby open flame to extinguish it in some sort of attempt to make sure the caustic reek of a distillery didn't blow something up. Generally she would have already rationalized that a normal drunk wouldn't be capable of doing such a thing. But Ganondorf was not a regular man, much less a regular drunk. Who knows what could happen. She was not taking that chance.

The ascension party had peaked some time ago and by now had wound down. Of course, in order to be ready for the actual coronation the day following, Fariah had retired earlier in the evening. Markesh had left her be for once, heading to witness the preparations for the ceremony and work on training the newly appointed advisor in how and what to do. For all the boy's discord, he certainly did do his job well...

It wasn't a usual state for those outside her closest circles to find the Empress in. Dressed down to underskirts and slips, devoid of the sparkling jewelry that otherwise adorned every inch, the painted face barren of vibrant accent. She was pulling the remaining strands of pearls and ornamentation from her copious mane, let free from its restraints in a nebulous cloud around her head, curling down her back, creeping in inky tendrils around her shoulders. The last of the glitter pulled away from its prison into her fingers to be discarded on a desk nearby.

"...Did you marinate yourself in an entire winery before you came up here?"

The tone of her voice was bordering incredulous. Above and below, she could only hope he wasn't hungover for tomorrow.

Of course, his half-slurred response made her frizz a little. Without the benefit of being bound, the hackles were a lot more noticeable, the inky mass growing and threatening to devour what little light still remained by itself. Other than such fluffing display however, she still stood her ground against his approach resolutely.

One shoulder of the slip had fallen, but before she could even hope to pull it back up, he was there. In front of her, at her level. Gilded eyes met his glazed own without having to look defiantly up at them and she would be lying if she said his semi-lucid confession if it could even be called that didn't warrant a small flush to her cheeks. That hand to her shoulder didn't help matters either, warm and calloused as it was against bare skin, and she could only hope he didn't notice the deeper red she was turning at his touch.

Or that somehow being forty sheets to the wind gave him telepathy or something. She had no idea how his current state affected him but her current mindscape was not a thing she wanted intruded on right this instant...

Any attempt to respond at all was relegated to a single syllable, cut off rather suddenly by his fervent demand and that kiss. That devouring wanton clumsy kiss. Regardless of its rather off-balance execution, however, it still left her breathless and dizzy once she broke from him with a pop back. She refused sternly to believe it was him though, his influence, his closeness. Absolutely was his fumes, she was getting contact drunk from breathing near him. The residual taste of his fare only added to this.

"...At least ... at least it is good wine, though..." she finally stammered out, resting a hand on his anchored arm to steady herself.

@uramii