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Entry tags:
- !location: planetside,
- !plot: marriage planet,
- aibghalien marsai,
- angie spica,
- anwei ayles,
- astrid hoffersson,
- axl,
- beastboy,
- billy cranston,
- brother cargn,
- celena vantari,
- dean winchester,
- dhianeila,
- edward elric,
- eleventh doctor,
- faiza hussain,
- farseer alastirra,
- fate testarossa harlaown,
- feldt grace,
- hiccup,
- hit girl,
- hoshi hikari,
- howard bassem,
- jamie hemeros,
- jamie mccrimmon,
- john-117,
- kang,
- kanoe zouichi,
- karis needleteeth,
- kaylee frye,
- kon-el,
- lash,
- lex luthor,
- lord zetta,
- loren,
- matt olsen,
- megamind,
- miku hinasaki,
- miranda lawson,
- nathan petrelli,
- negi springfield,
- ophelia,
- phillip,
- rhiow,
- ronnae,
- roxanne ritchie,
- sam winchester,
- samus aran,
- sasami masaki jurai,
- setsuna f. seiei,
- sho fukamachi,
- signum,
- sofia mantega,
- son of satan,
- sonic the hedgehog (games),
- steve burnside,
- tenaya,
- tim drake/red robin,
- vivio takamachi
Till Death (or Liftoff) Do Us Part
Once Domalai made sure the crew was fully informed of what was expected of them in the upcoming rituals, he showed them over to where the Rituals of Judgement and Joining would be performed.
As they neared the gate that led into the city of Orongo, they could see many other people milling about, waiting for their turn to undergo the rituals themselves. The crew, of course, being a special case, are moved to the front of the line. Thankfully, everyone seems to be in a good enough mood that no one puts up a fuss about it.
The first area they were brought to had a simple stone circle, around which were three smaller circles. Two Moai priests were waiting there as they approached, and Domalai moved over to join them before speaking up.
[ooc: wait for subthreads to go up]
[ooc2: Ready! Tag away!]
As they neared the gate that led into the city of Orongo, they could see many other people milling about, waiting for their turn to undergo the rituals themselves. The crew, of course, being a special case, are moved to the front of the line. Thankfully, everyone seems to be in a good enough mood that no one puts up a fuss about it.
The first area they were brought to had a simple stone circle, around which were three smaller circles. Two Moai priests were waiting there as they approached, and Domalai moved over to join them before speaking up.
[ooc2: Ready! Tag away!]
Re: Hiccup and Astrid
She pondered this, fretting for a split second, biting back the urge to scold him for even suggesting.
Okay, so not all of her body was hanging out, thank the gods, meaning he'd just stop where the attire ends. Though, that probably won't make this any less... crazy.
Belatedly, "...I — yeah. Okay. That works."
And she agreed, swallowing her shame and pride, then shifting in place, and slowly moved her hair out of the way, presenting him her bare back, touch of scars here and there remarkably shown to the world. Unlike her Fairplay persona, Astrid was Astrid again and that meant Astrid rather cherished her tomboy-ish and reckless memories.
"Or should I sit? Would—would sitting help?"
Probably not seeing as how some other ends below her lower back weren't so, uh, concealed.
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Hiccup's gaze snapped upward again, his face a deeper crimson.
"Uh, maybe kneeling? If we both kneel? Would be easiest?" he said, taking up the bowl of paint.
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Scowling softly, Astrid focused her attention back to the floor, trying not to hunch, squirm and lock up at the same time, although her thighs anxiously and periodically rubbed together.
No, she takes everything back. Anything she said before was putting it too lightly. This is dangerous. Dangerous—the most dangerous situation she's ever been in. Easily.
... Annnd too focused on keeping it together, she wouldn't be prepared when the first touch of the cold paint made contact with her skin, and caused her to slightly arch involuntarily.
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"Hold still. Unless you don't mind wild squiggles all over."
Before long, she'd have dragon wings, only they were made up of Viking symbols and designs, lots of knots and angled shapes. He was surprisingly good at this, but then he'd always been handy at detailed work. Etching this stuff into weapons was hard, painting it on Astrid's back was easy in comparison.
His fingers lingered just a little too long sometimes, but they were gentle. It seemed as if he was trying his best to concentrate and get the job done, but couldn't help but enjoy tracing his fingers across her skin just a little.
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Lowering her head momentarily, expression pensive, she figured conversation is a perfect distraction from the awkward.
"...I saw your initiation," she started softly, without a hint of sarcasm in her tone. "It was really beautiful."
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Yeah, the self-doubt was there. It was always there. Sometimes he beat it, sometimes he didn't. This wasn't one of those days where he could stuff it down entirely, not after seeing something like that.
It was easier to accept things when they were life's equivalent of saying, 'You're okay, kid,' not when something or someone tried to tell him 'you're amazing! And talented! And good-looking, to boot!' Sometimes, it was a little too strong for him to believe. It seemed exaggerated, false.
He moved to her side, to paint her arms and shoulders, pushing her hair back out of the way with the back of his paint-covered fingers, the ghost of a touch against her cheek. He didn't look her in the eyes, as he got back to work.
"I think they just...felt like letting loose for some reason, and it just happened to be me standing there when they did."
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Astrid didn't flinch when his fingers brushed carefully over her cheek, however she tried her hardest, resisting not to let out a sigh or throw up her hands in an exasperated manner. "Did we see the same thing? Because that wasn't just singing."
Lastly, blurting out more than she intended to say, "Because—because that was something that I honestly feel could come from no one else but you!"
Seriously. Who else that she knows could hold something so... so indescribably marvelous inside them?! As far as Astrid was concerned, it wonderfully represented everything about Hiccup. Hiccup, she swears, you—
She stopped in her mild rant, and it just now occurred she said all that aloud.
Oh.
Suddenly her hands seemed really interesting as she dropped her eyes, and fiddled with her fingers.
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"Things like that," he finally said, "are why, if this was real, I'd want it to be happening with you."
That declaration was just as bold as some parts of that song were, just as daring.
"Because you can see those things in me, that I can't sometimes. I love you for it."
Bold. How did he manage to go from self-effacing one moment to bold the next?
"Then again--" There was that shy, awkward smile, that she'd seen so many times before, even if his gaze was directed at her arm. "--there are a lot of things to love about you. That wouldn't even rank that high up there on the list."
Yes, he just said that. Then he went quietly back to concentrating on the little designs, leaving that L-word hanging in the air.
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If Astrid wasn't looking at Hiccup before his declaration, there's no doubt her gaze is locked directly on him now. A myriad of emotions flashed over her face, then it was gone. And her expression changed again; eyebrows falling and gradually furrowing as she peered critically.
A part of her searched for the lie. Searching for sarcasm, searching for the humor and the pun that always followed his smile. The worst joke he could say to her.
But this was someone who genuinely cherished everything about her. ...First to fly, first to declare love. It made sense.
Love.
Looking aside at the floor, she let it sink in a bit longer. It dawned on her the difference between Hiccup and her. Can she really be just as bold as he? She doesn't know. Especially right here and now, under the many eyes and ears that surround them. Those... those strong words will have to wait. When she is sure she is ready. Even so, she can tell him something in her own way.
Then, Astrid gingerly placed a hand over his, covering the back of his left hand, and briefly stopping his work. She kept her gaze distant, though hopefully the message would get across. A silent thanks. Thanks for not running away. Thanks for putting up with the bossiness, the angry or flirty strikes. The giant chasm she created between them years ago. And thanks for choosing her. Thanks for... always choosing her.
And drawing back her hand eventually, she scooped up her bowl with a determined, yet renewed eye.
"Hey... I think I finally have something in mind."
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What he was hoping for, at the very least, was that she wouldn't reject it or laugh it off, and she hadn't. That was good enough for him.
Her placing her hand over his was even better, and when she scooped up the bowl he tilted his head at her, that smile widening a little, even if their was slight suspicion in his gaze, wondering what she was up to.
"What exactly would that be?"
It had better not be paint-splashing.
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First, she needed to sit this bowl down again. Ignoring the boy for a second, Astrid raised her hands below eye-level, opening and closing them. She glanced at both her hands another small moment, apparently considering how she'll do this, before turning her hands over, and splayed her fingers, and dipped them palms down. Not too deep, just touching the surface for an adequate amount of paint.
Ooh, it sticks perfectly. Now...
Using her bent legs and her knees to rotate back around to face him, Astrid didn't hesitate any longer — kindly breaking the boundary abruptly, and decorating his bare chest for him, shoving her messy, open hands against him right below his collarbone delicately as she best she can manage.
Tongue sticking out the corner of her lips, she tilted her head and went for his shoulder blades. ...Then patted down his arms. Oh, and his ribs.
Before he can stop gawking or whatever stupid face he is making at this time, he'll be covered in her hand prints. At least, the upper portion of him. She took precaution not to get it anywhere near his stomach regions.
"You're too clean. It bothers me," she nodded firmly. She waved for him to move, expecting Hiccup to obey without question. "Turn."
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He was laughing because anyone that knew them and looked at them both would be able to tell they'd painted each other, what with Astrid covered in his careful, intricate designs, and himself covered in her sloppy, purposeful hand-prints.
He was also laughing because Astrid slapping her hands all over him, marking him, was effectively her way of saying 'Mine.'
"I think you missed a couple spots," he joked, looking down at himself. "Maybe the dumping it over my head thing might have been the best idea after all, if this was the plan all along."
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Grinning behind him, she reached and cupped each side of his cheeks. Can't miss there. "Impatient. I was getting there!" At this point, it was as if everyone around them disappeared.
Marking. That's partly the idea, really. In another way, she sabotaged herself; as long as her playful marks didn't fade throughout their time in Orongo, Astrid wouldn't be able to deny her crime. The evidence was all there.
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He held out his arms so she had free reign to slap paint anywhere.
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Feel that, Hiccup?
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He just did that, too, with the slightest intake of breath, and placed his paint-covered hands on her shoulders, for lack of a better place to rest them.
"You know I have always appreciated your attention to detail. Very thorough. With the paint."
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It intrigued her when he did not react and recoil as last time, and her hands continued to hover a bit longer. Though she didn't appear insistent, she did eye up at him, searching for... consent.
There was no mistake things between them were evolving. More so than ever before. If they were willing to ride it out together and see where it takes them... they needed to get passed this... right?
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It was okay. Not that he understood why she'd even want to touch...that, but it was okay. It was her. That made it okay.
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Her touch is careful; delicately adding her mark, and a light caress before she leaned back again. Quick and painless, but meaningful.
Beaming, and probably a tad overly enthused, she suddenly gave his right leg a hearty, stinging swat on his thigh, leaving a print in its wake.
"Almost complete."
She gestured for his automail leg.
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He presented his leg to her, bare and half-metal, ugly and twisted and scarred near the automail dock, and he said nothing, just watching her, watching the look on her face.
Though he slept every night with a long sock pulled over his leg up to the knee, she'd touched it before, rubbed his sore leg, but he hadn't looked at her face then and he hadn't wanted to. He always wondered if she was just biting back her disgust over it, trying to be kind.
Did it secretly repulse her? Did she secretly wish he was whole? (And handsome, and strong, and full of studly muscles...)
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As aforementioned, she hadn't seen this leg in awhile— considering Hiccup's been so stingy with it— so for the first time in what felt like so long, her fingers grazed, slowly tracing the scarred lines. Heh, she's so engrossed in it, she'll have to apologize if it tickles.
She paused and relaxed her whole palm above his knee. "...I'm interested to see the city, so we'll probably be there for a substantial time. If it starts bothering you... or if you get tired, let me know, and we'll call it a day." Did she just insinuate they'll be exploring and spending time in the city together?
Lifting her head, Astrid offered a reassuring smile, then directed her attention down at the paint beside her, a hint of a gleam in her eyes.
Well, that paint? She's gonna apply some to her lips now...
...and shifting just a bit, the blonde lowered her head, gracing that leg with a solid, delicate kiss. That'll leave a mark, for sure.
Huh. Leaning up, she blinked. With it on her lips she could faintly taste the peculiar fruit... and curiosity getting the best of her, Astrid lifted her hand and tasted it before enveloping the entire tip of her finger past her lips. ...No--stop that Astrid, don't lick that while he's watching. Pulling back her index, her eyebrows lifted and she seemed surprised, murmuring a single comment. "Good."
—and upon realizing her other hand ventured too closely above his thigh, she lost her nerve, quickly removing it, and tried not to rub the back of her head sheepishly, nearly getting paint in her hair in the process.
She looked aside, clearing her throat behind a fist, warmth now smoldering her cheeks. "Done."
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