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The bed was fucking hard. Like a rock. No, not like a rock. It was a rock. His cheek lay smooshed against a gritty flat rock and it was too difficult to open his eyelids to figure out why he was not in bed, though he felt like he should be. The ground swayed beneath him, but as he surfaced more and more from the deep abyss his mind had plunged into, he became convinced that there was no motion. He was dizzy, drowsy, and his mouth tasted like he’d been sucking on bronze and washing that down with a sewage, saltwater cocktail. His limbs were bone tired and for a time, he drifted back down into darkness, too weary to much care about the why’s and how’s.
It could have been hours or minutes or days, but he shifted a little. Something clinked and he had the stray thought of how strange it was to sleep on his stomach with his arms out above his head like this. Usually he slept on his side or hugged his pillow. As he tried to roll onto his side, his hip met flat, hard rock and he realized again that he was not where he should be. Something warm lay at his back but that was the least of his concerns. Waking up next to a stranger was the only normal thing about this. There had been a whore. He remembered that much. A whore...a lot of drinking…
He groaned, curling a little and trying to bring his arms down so that he could hug himself and complete his balled up attempt at waking up but he couldn’t. His arms were stuck and that annoying clinking was happening every time he moved them. Clinking that he’d know anywhere. It took some doing, but he finally cracked his eyes open, seeing nothing but glaring yellow beyond his lashes at first. He blinked several times, each time clearing his vision a little more, bringing the landscape into sharper focus.
“What the fuck?” he croaked and coughed. Not only did his mouth taste like he’d chugged the insides of a latrine but his throat seemed clogged with some, too. He coughed again, spitting almost nothing, though, onto the ground and again tried to sit up. Dizziness made him slump back down and he had the distinct realization he’d been drugged. Yes, had to have been. Drinking too much did not have these symptoms come morning.
With that cheerful thought, he shifted and forced himself to sit up, even though his arms felt like they were tethered to the ground. As the clinking sound scrapped dully across the ground, Lukos looked down and realized that he really was chained, but not to the ground. He was chained to a body. Tugging on his wrists, he knew already that it was no use. Where was his knife? Best case was this was a dead body and he could just saw through the other person’s arm to essentially gain freedom. He’d figure out how to get the manacles off later.
The chains clinked loudly while he felt down his dress for his-”Dress?” He looked down. Oh yes. He was in a gorgeous ruby red gown that had a daring slit trailing all the way to his thigh, paired with a plunging neckline that would have accentuated breasts, if he’d had any. The view that other people would now have was of his chest hair, to which bits of sand clung. He flicked the sand away, sighing loudly. No knife then. He even had on a pair of strappy sandals and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about any of this. At least his ass felt ok. No violations there, thank the gods.
He turned to look at the fucking sod who was chained to him to find “Akila!?” He did not remember, at all, running into this bitch but of course she was tied into this. Not that she was dressed any better than he was. She looked positively homeless and like she’d stolen some man’s clothes who was at least four times the girth she was. She might have been wearing a gods damned blanket except that it that the chiton was cinched to her waist with the fucking ugliest braided leather belt he’d ever seen. And she had no shoes.
Confusingly, they were both wearing glittering tiaras and as he checked the one tangled in his own hair, which he could not remove without quite a bit of trouble and so left it alone, it was real. If they ever got out of….wherever the fuck this was, at least they’d have something to pawn to show for it.
“Ey,” he smacked her ass. “Wake up.”
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The bed was fucking hard. Like a rock. No, not like a rock. It was a rock. His cheek lay smooshed against a gritty flat rock and it was too difficult to open his eyelids to figure out why he was not in bed, though he felt like he should be. The ground swayed beneath him, but as he surfaced more and more from the deep abyss his mind had plunged into, he became convinced that there was no motion. He was dizzy, drowsy, and his mouth tasted like he’d been sucking on bronze and washing that down with a sewage, saltwater cocktail. His limbs were bone tired and for a time, he drifted back down into darkness, too weary to much care about the why’s and how’s.
It could have been hours or minutes or days, but he shifted a little. Something clinked and he had the stray thought of how strange it was to sleep on his stomach with his arms out above his head like this. Usually he slept on his side or hugged his pillow. As he tried to roll onto his side, his hip met flat, hard rock and he realized again that he was not where he should be. Something warm lay at his back but that was the least of his concerns. Waking up next to a stranger was the only normal thing about this. There had been a whore. He remembered that much. A whore...a lot of drinking…
He groaned, curling a little and trying to bring his arms down so that he could hug himself and complete his balled up attempt at waking up but he couldn’t. His arms were stuck and that annoying clinking was happening every time he moved them. Clinking that he’d know anywhere. It took some doing, but he finally cracked his eyes open, seeing nothing but glaring yellow beyond his lashes at first. He blinked several times, each time clearing his vision a little more, bringing the landscape into sharper focus.
“What the fuck?” he croaked and coughed. Not only did his mouth taste like he’d chugged the insides of a latrine but his throat seemed clogged with some, too. He coughed again, spitting almost nothing, though, onto the ground and again tried to sit up. Dizziness made him slump back down and he had the distinct realization he’d been drugged. Yes, had to have been. Drinking too much did not have these symptoms come morning.
With that cheerful thought, he shifted and forced himself to sit up, even though his arms felt like they were tethered to the ground. As the clinking sound scrapped dully across the ground, Lukos looked down and realized that he really was chained, but not to the ground. He was chained to a body. Tugging on his wrists, he knew already that it was no use. Where was his knife? Best case was this was a dead body and he could just saw through the other person’s arm to essentially gain freedom. He’d figure out how to get the manacles off later.
The chains clinked loudly while he felt down his dress for his-”Dress?” He looked down. Oh yes. He was in a gorgeous ruby red gown that had a daring slit trailing all the way to his thigh, paired with a plunging neckline that would have accentuated breasts, if he’d had any. The view that other people would now have was of his chest hair, to which bits of sand clung. He flicked the sand away, sighing loudly. No knife then. He even had on a pair of strappy sandals and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about any of this. At least his ass felt ok. No violations there, thank the gods.
He turned to look at the fucking sod who was chained to him to find “Akila!?” He did not remember, at all, running into this bitch but of course she was tied into this. Not that she was dressed any better than he was. She looked positively homeless and like she’d stolen some man’s clothes who was at least four times the girth she was. She might have been wearing a gods damned blanket except that it that the chiton was cinched to her waist with the fucking ugliest braided leather belt he’d ever seen. And she had no shoes.
Confusingly, they were both wearing glittering tiaras and as he checked the one tangled in his own hair, which he could not remove without quite a bit of trouble and so left it alone, it was real. If they ever got out of….wherever the fuck this was, at least they’d have something to pawn to show for it.
“Ey,” he smacked her ass. “Wake up.”
The bed was fucking hard. Like a rock. No, not like a rock. It was a rock. His cheek lay smooshed against a gritty flat rock and it was too difficult to open his eyelids to figure out why he was not in bed, though he felt like he should be. The ground swayed beneath him, but as he surfaced more and more from the deep abyss his mind had plunged into, he became convinced that there was no motion. He was dizzy, drowsy, and his mouth tasted like he’d been sucking on bronze and washing that down with a sewage, saltwater cocktail. His limbs were bone tired and for a time, he drifted back down into darkness, too weary to much care about the why’s and how’s.
It could have been hours or minutes or days, but he shifted a little. Something clinked and he had the stray thought of how strange it was to sleep on his stomach with his arms out above his head like this. Usually he slept on his side or hugged his pillow. As he tried to roll onto his side, his hip met flat, hard rock and he realized again that he was not where he should be. Something warm lay at his back but that was the least of his concerns. Waking up next to a stranger was the only normal thing about this. There had been a whore. He remembered that much. A whore...a lot of drinking…
He groaned, curling a little and trying to bring his arms down so that he could hug himself and complete his balled up attempt at waking up but he couldn’t. His arms were stuck and that annoying clinking was happening every time he moved them. Clinking that he’d know anywhere. It took some doing, but he finally cracked his eyes open, seeing nothing but glaring yellow beyond his lashes at first. He blinked several times, each time clearing his vision a little more, bringing the landscape into sharper focus.
“What the fuck?” he croaked and coughed. Not only did his mouth taste like he’d chugged the insides of a latrine but his throat seemed clogged with some, too. He coughed again, spitting almost nothing, though, onto the ground and again tried to sit up. Dizziness made him slump back down and he had the distinct realization he’d been drugged. Yes, had to have been. Drinking too much did not have these symptoms come morning.
With that cheerful thought, he shifted and forced himself to sit up, even though his arms felt like they were tethered to the ground. As the clinking sound scrapped dully across the ground, Lukos looked down and realized that he really was chained, but not to the ground. He was chained to a body. Tugging on his wrists, he knew already that it was no use. Where was his knife? Best case was this was a dead body and he could just saw through the other person’s arm to essentially gain freedom. He’d figure out how to get the manacles off later.
The chains clinked loudly while he felt down his dress for his-”Dress?” He looked down. Oh yes. He was in a gorgeous ruby red gown that had a daring slit trailing all the way to his thigh, paired with a plunging neckline that would have accentuated breasts, if he’d had any. The view that other people would now have was of his chest hair, to which bits of sand clung. He flicked the sand away, sighing loudly. No knife then. He even had on a pair of strappy sandals and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about any of this. At least his ass felt ok. No violations there, thank the gods.
He turned to look at the fucking sod who was chained to him to find “Akila!?” He did not remember, at all, running into this bitch but of course she was tied into this. Not that she was dressed any better than he was. She looked positively homeless and like she’d stolen some man’s clothes who was at least four times the girth she was. She might have been wearing a gods damned blanket except that it that the chiton was cinched to her waist with the fucking ugliest braided leather belt he’d ever seen. And she had no shoes.
Confusingly, they were both wearing glittering tiaras and as he checked the one tangled in his own hair, which he could not remove without quite a bit of trouble and so left it alone, it was real. If they ever got out of….wherever the fuck this was, at least they’d have something to pawn to show for it.
“Ey,” he smacked her ass. “Wake up.”
Cold. That’s what Akila felt. Cold. Immediately she should have been put on edge. A Child of the Sands turned Songstress of the Sea didn’t take to cold very well. Cool, sure. The mist of the ocean waves was cooling and nice. But not cold. Fuck the cold.
But whatever she was sleeping on was no damn blanket. It was hard and uncomfortable and left her muscles aching and sore. If only it was her muscles that hurt the most. No, what hurt the most right now was her head. It pounded and throbbed with seemingly no end. Maybe if she just slept more the pain would go away. Sleep, that sounded so nice right now…
Suddenly cold was replaced with something warm. A body, maybe. That would make sense. Waking up next to someone wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for Akila. Though Akila was not a cuddler, even if the warmth of a body seemed appealing to her right now. She shifted and squirmed slightly away from the source.
Clink, clink.
Her tongue was sandier than the desert she hailed from. Did she smoke? This would happen if she did drugs. Her mouth would dry and she’d crave her next drink. What did she do last night? Honestly, Akila couldn’t quite remember. There was an exotic animal trader, some sort of party and…
Akila?!
Akila dreamed of many things. She dreamed of riches, and sex, and violence, and gore. She dreamed of battles and fires and everything that got her blood pumping. But what she didn’t dream of, or more specifically who she didn’t dream of, was Lukos. The man was good for the occasional lay, but all the other times was a pure nuisance. Why would he be in her thoughts? So hearing his voice break through her thoughts caused her face to screw up and her nose to wrinkle. It didn’t belong.
Ey. Wake up! With the smack to her ass Akila’s eyes flew open and instinctively she shot her hand back to smack him. Only it wasn’t her hand. It was too heavy to be her hand. With the clinking of chains, the pieces were slowly coming together. This wasn’t a dream was it? That was actually Lukos’s voice. And the heaviness was...
“Oh, fuck no.” Akila sat up and squinted as her eyes adjust to the light and reality slowly seeped in. Bleary eyes blinked multiple times trying to make sense in the situation before her. But no matter how many times she blinked and no matter how long she stared, the situation did not get any clearer. Lukos was wearing a dress. And while the dress was certainly lovely, it did nothing to compliment his figure. It was a dress made for a womanly shape, soft curves, and a big chest not… what Lukos was.
Speaking of figure, what Akila was wearing was not helping her’s as well. Her head dropped down and what she saw was fabric upon fabric, too much for the Egyptian to ever be comfortable in. It swallowed her whole. And… what was this belt? Oh no, no. Akila wasn’t some noble lady caring about the latest designs, but even she wouldn’t be caught dead looking like… this.
And her hair was a tangled mess. A tiara hung limply by the matted strands of hair. It occasionally swung and tapped her on the side of the face as she moved her head. What had they done? And- oh this tiara was very nice. That would fetch a good price. Wait, that didn’t matter. Because worse of all was the fact that she was shackled to Lukos. Now, shackles weren’t necessarily always a bad thing. Akila would imagine if it was just Lukos in shackles that would lead to a damn good time. She’d enjoy that very much. But… well, this was not on the list of ways she wanted to wake up in the morning.
Akila opened her mouth to say something, before closing it again. She held out a finger asking for a minute as her brain still tried to process what had gone on here. Her mouth was dry, her head was aching, and wherein the fuck were her shoes? Once more she opened and closed her mouth with a, “Hmm.”
The most baffling part about this was not the chains, nor the location, nor the clothes, nor the person that she was with. What Akila just could not wrap her mind around, no matter how hard she tried, was what in all the gods’s names was on Lukos’s lips. It was lipstick, but the shade was something that was such a horrific color that there were no good words to describe it. It was somewhere in between green and brown and blue, but if she looked closely enough there might even be specs of red in it. How on earth did this color even exist? It was the thing of nightmares. And it certainly did not go with the dress at all.
Finally, she spoke and forced her hand forward to wipe the atrocity from his lips. “Not your shade, my Lady,” she said plainly pulling back her hand to see the gross smudge all over it. Ugh. The one thing Akila could never complain about was the fact that Lukos was fairly easy on the eyes, and now this image was burned into her mind. Gods dammit!
“Now, would you rather me break your hand with my foot, or would you rather I find a rock so we can get away from each other?” And find out who the hell did this and kill them. Or at the very least figure out where her shoes are.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Cold. That’s what Akila felt. Cold. Immediately she should have been put on edge. A Child of the Sands turned Songstress of the Sea didn’t take to cold very well. Cool, sure. The mist of the ocean waves was cooling and nice. But not cold. Fuck the cold.
But whatever she was sleeping on was no damn blanket. It was hard and uncomfortable and left her muscles aching and sore. If only it was her muscles that hurt the most. No, what hurt the most right now was her head. It pounded and throbbed with seemingly no end. Maybe if she just slept more the pain would go away. Sleep, that sounded so nice right now…
Suddenly cold was replaced with something warm. A body, maybe. That would make sense. Waking up next to someone wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for Akila. Though Akila was not a cuddler, even if the warmth of a body seemed appealing to her right now. She shifted and squirmed slightly away from the source.
Clink, clink.
Her tongue was sandier than the desert she hailed from. Did she smoke? This would happen if she did drugs. Her mouth would dry and she’d crave her next drink. What did she do last night? Honestly, Akila couldn’t quite remember. There was an exotic animal trader, some sort of party and…
Akila?!
Akila dreamed of many things. She dreamed of riches, and sex, and violence, and gore. She dreamed of battles and fires and everything that got her blood pumping. But what she didn’t dream of, or more specifically who she didn’t dream of, was Lukos. The man was good for the occasional lay, but all the other times was a pure nuisance. Why would he be in her thoughts? So hearing his voice break through her thoughts caused her face to screw up and her nose to wrinkle. It didn’t belong.
Ey. Wake up! With the smack to her ass Akila’s eyes flew open and instinctively she shot her hand back to smack him. Only it wasn’t her hand. It was too heavy to be her hand. With the clinking of chains, the pieces were slowly coming together. This wasn’t a dream was it? That was actually Lukos’s voice. And the heaviness was...
“Oh, fuck no.” Akila sat up and squinted as her eyes adjust to the light and reality slowly seeped in. Bleary eyes blinked multiple times trying to make sense in the situation before her. But no matter how many times she blinked and no matter how long she stared, the situation did not get any clearer. Lukos was wearing a dress. And while the dress was certainly lovely, it did nothing to compliment his figure. It was a dress made for a womanly shape, soft curves, and a big chest not… what Lukos was.
Speaking of figure, what Akila was wearing was not helping her’s as well. Her head dropped down and what she saw was fabric upon fabric, too much for the Egyptian to ever be comfortable in. It swallowed her whole. And… what was this belt? Oh no, no. Akila wasn’t some noble lady caring about the latest designs, but even she wouldn’t be caught dead looking like… this.
And her hair was a tangled mess. A tiara hung limply by the matted strands of hair. It occasionally swung and tapped her on the side of the face as she moved her head. What had they done? And- oh this tiara was very nice. That would fetch a good price. Wait, that didn’t matter. Because worse of all was the fact that she was shackled to Lukos. Now, shackles weren’t necessarily always a bad thing. Akila would imagine if it was just Lukos in shackles that would lead to a damn good time. She’d enjoy that very much. But… well, this was not on the list of ways she wanted to wake up in the morning.
Akila opened her mouth to say something, before closing it again. She held out a finger asking for a minute as her brain still tried to process what had gone on here. Her mouth was dry, her head was aching, and wherein the fuck were her shoes? Once more she opened and closed her mouth with a, “Hmm.”
The most baffling part about this was not the chains, nor the location, nor the clothes, nor the person that she was with. What Akila just could not wrap her mind around, no matter how hard she tried, was what in all the gods’s names was on Lukos’s lips. It was lipstick, but the shade was something that was such a horrific color that there were no good words to describe it. It was somewhere in between green and brown and blue, but if she looked closely enough there might even be specs of red in it. How on earth did this color even exist? It was the thing of nightmares. And it certainly did not go with the dress at all.
Finally, she spoke and forced her hand forward to wipe the atrocity from his lips. “Not your shade, my Lady,” she said plainly pulling back her hand to see the gross smudge all over it. Ugh. The one thing Akila could never complain about was the fact that Lukos was fairly easy on the eyes, and now this image was burned into her mind. Gods dammit!
“Now, would you rather me break your hand with my foot, or would you rather I find a rock so we can get away from each other?” And find out who the hell did this and kill them. Or at the very least figure out where her shoes are.
Cold. That’s what Akila felt. Cold. Immediately she should have been put on edge. A Child of the Sands turned Songstress of the Sea didn’t take to cold very well. Cool, sure. The mist of the ocean waves was cooling and nice. But not cold. Fuck the cold.
But whatever she was sleeping on was no damn blanket. It was hard and uncomfortable and left her muscles aching and sore. If only it was her muscles that hurt the most. No, what hurt the most right now was her head. It pounded and throbbed with seemingly no end. Maybe if she just slept more the pain would go away. Sleep, that sounded so nice right now…
Suddenly cold was replaced with something warm. A body, maybe. That would make sense. Waking up next to someone wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for Akila. Though Akila was not a cuddler, even if the warmth of a body seemed appealing to her right now. She shifted and squirmed slightly away from the source.
Clink, clink.
Her tongue was sandier than the desert she hailed from. Did she smoke? This would happen if she did drugs. Her mouth would dry and she’d crave her next drink. What did she do last night? Honestly, Akila couldn’t quite remember. There was an exotic animal trader, some sort of party and…
Akila?!
Akila dreamed of many things. She dreamed of riches, and sex, and violence, and gore. She dreamed of battles and fires and everything that got her blood pumping. But what she didn’t dream of, or more specifically who she didn’t dream of, was Lukos. The man was good for the occasional lay, but all the other times was a pure nuisance. Why would he be in her thoughts? So hearing his voice break through her thoughts caused her face to screw up and her nose to wrinkle. It didn’t belong.
Ey. Wake up! With the smack to her ass Akila’s eyes flew open and instinctively she shot her hand back to smack him. Only it wasn’t her hand. It was too heavy to be her hand. With the clinking of chains, the pieces were slowly coming together. This wasn’t a dream was it? That was actually Lukos’s voice. And the heaviness was...
“Oh, fuck no.” Akila sat up and squinted as her eyes adjust to the light and reality slowly seeped in. Bleary eyes blinked multiple times trying to make sense in the situation before her. But no matter how many times she blinked and no matter how long she stared, the situation did not get any clearer. Lukos was wearing a dress. And while the dress was certainly lovely, it did nothing to compliment his figure. It was a dress made for a womanly shape, soft curves, and a big chest not… what Lukos was.
Speaking of figure, what Akila was wearing was not helping her’s as well. Her head dropped down and what she saw was fabric upon fabric, too much for the Egyptian to ever be comfortable in. It swallowed her whole. And… what was this belt? Oh no, no. Akila wasn’t some noble lady caring about the latest designs, but even she wouldn’t be caught dead looking like… this.
And her hair was a tangled mess. A tiara hung limply by the matted strands of hair. It occasionally swung and tapped her on the side of the face as she moved her head. What had they done? And- oh this tiara was very nice. That would fetch a good price. Wait, that didn’t matter. Because worse of all was the fact that she was shackled to Lukos. Now, shackles weren’t necessarily always a bad thing. Akila would imagine if it was just Lukos in shackles that would lead to a damn good time. She’d enjoy that very much. But… well, this was not on the list of ways she wanted to wake up in the morning.
Akila opened her mouth to say something, before closing it again. She held out a finger asking for a minute as her brain still tried to process what had gone on here. Her mouth was dry, her head was aching, and wherein the fuck were her shoes? Once more she opened and closed her mouth with a, “Hmm.”
The most baffling part about this was not the chains, nor the location, nor the clothes, nor the person that she was with. What Akila just could not wrap her mind around, no matter how hard she tried, was what in all the gods’s names was on Lukos’s lips. It was lipstick, but the shade was something that was such a horrific color that there were no good words to describe it. It was somewhere in between green and brown and blue, but if she looked closely enough there might even be specs of red in it. How on earth did this color even exist? It was the thing of nightmares. And it certainly did not go with the dress at all.
Finally, she spoke and forced her hand forward to wipe the atrocity from his lips. “Not your shade, my Lady,” she said plainly pulling back her hand to see the gross smudge all over it. Ugh. The one thing Akila could never complain about was the fact that Lukos was fairly easy on the eyes, and now this image was burned into her mind. Gods dammit!
“Now, would you rather me break your hand with my foot, or would you rather I find a rock so we can get away from each other?” And find out who the hell did this and kill them. Or at the very least figure out where her shoes are.
As always happened, Akila woke up with the greatest decorum, muttering something lovely and ladylike, such as ”Oh fuck no,” upon seeing him. He might have been a little offended at that reaction if they’d woken up in a bed and were at least naked. Considering the circumstances, however, he chose to believe it wasn’t his face that she was objecting to and more to do with their surroundings. Though, if he was being honest, she didn’t look like a fresh dew drop herself. Sand clung to the snarls of black hair and she had a bit of dry something at the corner of her mouth. Probably more sand and spit from sleeping. She would no doubt claim she didn’t, but she drooled in her sleep. She’d drooled on his pillow before. They’d fought about it once.
That had been a nice day. Not like this one. Too bright. Too hot. His muscles ached and his head swam. He squinted away from her, looking around them again but still did not recognize the landscape. A small ‘hmmm’ from his chained companion had him reluctantly turning his head to look at her again. He watched her blink slowly and hold up a finger to him, like she was afraid he was going to interrupt. Bracing himself back on his hands, he shifted so that the leg on the side of the dress with the slit was tucked up beneath his other leg now stretched out, leaving quite an alarming space where he might have been exposed except that the fabric of the dress had enough give so that the fabric pooled in his lap instead of being stretched taught, like it might have done if it was tighter.
One hairy man thigh exposed, Lukos couldn’t be bothered to even pretend modesty around this woman. There was little enough point, was there? Except that she had the strangest expression on her face when he finally looked back up at her. He’d been picking at the gown, arranging the billowy fabric just so, shifting it this way and that to what he assumed might be a bit of an attractive arrangement, when he glanced at her to find her just staring at him. He frowned at her, tilting his head, eyes landing on the corner of her mouth where sandy grit still lay, wondering if he had a bit of that as well.
She started to lean towards him a bit, her hand coming up, but he eased back from her, unsure of what she was doing. He had the impression that she wanted to touch him. Touch him or hit him, maybe. He couldn’t ever be too sure where she was at any given moment on that spectrum of desire or hate. This seemed to be neither. It was a sort of puzzlement that he’d not really seen on her before. However, she was moving slow enough that he didn’t feel she meant him harm and he was too lazy to bat her hand away. And so, in great confusion, with a lot of frowning and eyes narrowing at her and then widening at her, only to narrow again in a series of unasked, though clearly thought out questions, he let her thumb rub hard against his lips. After about thirty seconds of the hard rubbing now growing painful, he turned his face away.
“Enough,” he griped, swiping the back of his hand against his own mouth and drawing back to take a look. There was an odd smudge there. Some sort of...he sniffed. Cosmetic? Had the smell of cinnamon about it, which was more confusing still. Cinnamon and...beer. What a potent combination.
”Not your shade, my lady,” Akila quipped. Evidently she didn’t like the smudge the lipstick left on her hand either. “Now, would you rather me break your hand with my foot, or would you rather I find a rock so we can get away from each other?”
Lukos scratched at his chin, lifting it a little and continuing the scratching down his throat where he had some serious five O’clock shadow growing. It was itchy out in this blasted heat. “If it comes down to it,” he mused, eyes on the shimmering horizon. “I could break your hand. It’d be quicker. Plus you wouldn’t have to wear the chains. Don’t thank me. I’m only thinking of your delicate constitution.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As always happened, Akila woke up with the greatest decorum, muttering something lovely and ladylike, such as ”Oh fuck no,” upon seeing him. He might have been a little offended at that reaction if they’d woken up in a bed and were at least naked. Considering the circumstances, however, he chose to believe it wasn’t his face that she was objecting to and more to do with their surroundings. Though, if he was being honest, she didn’t look like a fresh dew drop herself. Sand clung to the snarls of black hair and she had a bit of dry something at the corner of her mouth. Probably more sand and spit from sleeping. She would no doubt claim she didn’t, but she drooled in her sleep. She’d drooled on his pillow before. They’d fought about it once.
That had been a nice day. Not like this one. Too bright. Too hot. His muscles ached and his head swam. He squinted away from her, looking around them again but still did not recognize the landscape. A small ‘hmmm’ from his chained companion had him reluctantly turning his head to look at her again. He watched her blink slowly and hold up a finger to him, like she was afraid he was going to interrupt. Bracing himself back on his hands, he shifted so that the leg on the side of the dress with the slit was tucked up beneath his other leg now stretched out, leaving quite an alarming space where he might have been exposed except that the fabric of the dress had enough give so that the fabric pooled in his lap instead of being stretched taught, like it might have done if it was tighter.
One hairy man thigh exposed, Lukos couldn’t be bothered to even pretend modesty around this woman. There was little enough point, was there? Except that she had the strangest expression on her face when he finally looked back up at her. He’d been picking at the gown, arranging the billowy fabric just so, shifting it this way and that to what he assumed might be a bit of an attractive arrangement, when he glanced at her to find her just staring at him. He frowned at her, tilting his head, eyes landing on the corner of her mouth where sandy grit still lay, wondering if he had a bit of that as well.
She started to lean towards him a bit, her hand coming up, but he eased back from her, unsure of what she was doing. He had the impression that she wanted to touch him. Touch him or hit him, maybe. He couldn’t ever be too sure where she was at any given moment on that spectrum of desire or hate. This seemed to be neither. It was a sort of puzzlement that he’d not really seen on her before. However, she was moving slow enough that he didn’t feel she meant him harm and he was too lazy to bat her hand away. And so, in great confusion, with a lot of frowning and eyes narrowing at her and then widening at her, only to narrow again in a series of unasked, though clearly thought out questions, he let her thumb rub hard against his lips. After about thirty seconds of the hard rubbing now growing painful, he turned his face away.
“Enough,” he griped, swiping the back of his hand against his own mouth and drawing back to take a look. There was an odd smudge there. Some sort of...he sniffed. Cosmetic? Had the smell of cinnamon about it, which was more confusing still. Cinnamon and...beer. What a potent combination.
”Not your shade, my lady,” Akila quipped. Evidently she didn’t like the smudge the lipstick left on her hand either. “Now, would you rather me break your hand with my foot, or would you rather I find a rock so we can get away from each other?”
Lukos scratched at his chin, lifting it a little and continuing the scratching down his throat where he had some serious five O’clock shadow growing. It was itchy out in this blasted heat. “If it comes down to it,” he mused, eyes on the shimmering horizon. “I could break your hand. It’d be quicker. Plus you wouldn’t have to wear the chains. Don’t thank me. I’m only thinking of your delicate constitution.”
As always happened, Akila woke up with the greatest decorum, muttering something lovely and ladylike, such as ”Oh fuck no,” upon seeing him. He might have been a little offended at that reaction if they’d woken up in a bed and were at least naked. Considering the circumstances, however, he chose to believe it wasn’t his face that she was objecting to and more to do with their surroundings. Though, if he was being honest, she didn’t look like a fresh dew drop herself. Sand clung to the snarls of black hair and she had a bit of dry something at the corner of her mouth. Probably more sand and spit from sleeping. She would no doubt claim she didn’t, but she drooled in her sleep. She’d drooled on his pillow before. They’d fought about it once.
That had been a nice day. Not like this one. Too bright. Too hot. His muscles ached and his head swam. He squinted away from her, looking around them again but still did not recognize the landscape. A small ‘hmmm’ from his chained companion had him reluctantly turning his head to look at her again. He watched her blink slowly and hold up a finger to him, like she was afraid he was going to interrupt. Bracing himself back on his hands, he shifted so that the leg on the side of the dress with the slit was tucked up beneath his other leg now stretched out, leaving quite an alarming space where he might have been exposed except that the fabric of the dress had enough give so that the fabric pooled in his lap instead of being stretched taught, like it might have done if it was tighter.
One hairy man thigh exposed, Lukos couldn’t be bothered to even pretend modesty around this woman. There was little enough point, was there? Except that she had the strangest expression on her face when he finally looked back up at her. He’d been picking at the gown, arranging the billowy fabric just so, shifting it this way and that to what he assumed might be a bit of an attractive arrangement, when he glanced at her to find her just staring at him. He frowned at her, tilting his head, eyes landing on the corner of her mouth where sandy grit still lay, wondering if he had a bit of that as well.
She started to lean towards him a bit, her hand coming up, but he eased back from her, unsure of what she was doing. He had the impression that she wanted to touch him. Touch him or hit him, maybe. He couldn’t ever be too sure where she was at any given moment on that spectrum of desire or hate. This seemed to be neither. It was a sort of puzzlement that he’d not really seen on her before. However, she was moving slow enough that he didn’t feel she meant him harm and he was too lazy to bat her hand away. And so, in great confusion, with a lot of frowning and eyes narrowing at her and then widening at her, only to narrow again in a series of unasked, though clearly thought out questions, he let her thumb rub hard against his lips. After about thirty seconds of the hard rubbing now growing painful, he turned his face away.
“Enough,” he griped, swiping the back of his hand against his own mouth and drawing back to take a look. There was an odd smudge there. Some sort of...he sniffed. Cosmetic? Had the smell of cinnamon about it, which was more confusing still. Cinnamon and...beer. What a potent combination.
”Not your shade, my lady,” Akila quipped. Evidently she didn’t like the smudge the lipstick left on her hand either. “Now, would you rather me break your hand with my foot, or would you rather I find a rock so we can get away from each other?”
Lukos scratched at his chin, lifting it a little and continuing the scratching down his throat where he had some serious five O’clock shadow growing. It was itchy out in this blasted heat. “If it comes down to it,” he mused, eyes on the shimmering horizon. “I could break your hand. It’d be quicker. Plus you wouldn’t have to wear the chains. Don’t thank me. I’m only thinking of your delicate constitution.”
I’m only thinking of your delicate constitution. Akila almost mimicked him like a child would mock their sibling to annoy them. She wanted to. She was annoyed, after all. She at least gave him a face, face twisting up and eyes rolling at his stupid words.
And yet surprisingly, it wasn’t Lukos that annoyed her most. It was this situation. They were stuck in the middle of nowhere, cuffed together, with no idea how they got here. If a key would be near at least they could get out of these chains and figure out who the hell did this. At least then Akila wouldn’t be tempted to chop off the mysterious asshole’s hand and make him choke on it. She’d at least be more humane.
But no. Nothing but a town off in the distance was in sight. Nothing… and no one but Lukos.
“Oh, funny how you thought I’d thank you. You’re sweet.” Akila said, voice tinging with sarcasm. “So no breaking hands got it.” She was talking at Lukos but she was looking past him. How could there be nothing? What was the point of leaving them out in the middle of nowhere. Akila rubbed her temples to try to soothe her headache, forcing Lukos’s chained hand closer whether he wanted it or not. She wanted to use her own hand, thank you.
“Right, so there were whores… a party… an exotic animal merchant and…. Oh, right, the fortune teller bone dice lady.” How could Akila forget that? That was very pivotal to her night, after all. Nothing made sense yet. But no one could ever forget her. How silly of Akila.
Her feet were uncomfortable. Akila kept shifting them. She was Egyptian, she was used to the hot sand. But typically she wasn’t standing on it barefoot completely unmoving. She started standing on one foot, the other hovering off the sand, before moving to the other foot. Where the hell was her sho-
“You’re wearing my shoes.” Akila had finally looked down the length of Lukos’s body. He was still hot, despite wearing a dress. Akila had seen him naked plenty of times before to know what was hidden underneath there. She knew what to expect… typically. She hadn’t expected her shoes on his feet. There were much too small for him. They probably hurt, which almost made the burning sand on her own feet worth it. She at least had a better constitution for it. Asshole.
Akila then looked down at her own clothes once more. They were too big for her. These were made for a man… were these Lukos’s? She didn’t wear chitons unless she was in Greece. The belt was certainly not Lukos’s style, but the chiton would fit him better. And that dress? Well… it looked like it would probably hug Akila much better… And while she didn’t prefer wearing dresses (after all, how often do you see a pirate wearing a dress?) it would at least be much easier on the eyes than the crap that was currently trying to swallow her whole. And honestly, Lukos would probably be easier to look at as well. Win-win.
Her eyes flickered back up. “Take off your clothes.” Honestly something she wouldn’t need to tell Lukos. If they were in the mood, well, things went without saying. “Let’s trade.”
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I’m only thinking of your delicate constitution. Akila almost mimicked him like a child would mock their sibling to annoy them. She wanted to. She was annoyed, after all. She at least gave him a face, face twisting up and eyes rolling at his stupid words.
And yet surprisingly, it wasn’t Lukos that annoyed her most. It was this situation. They were stuck in the middle of nowhere, cuffed together, with no idea how they got here. If a key would be near at least they could get out of these chains and figure out who the hell did this. At least then Akila wouldn’t be tempted to chop off the mysterious asshole’s hand and make him choke on it. She’d at least be more humane.
But no. Nothing but a town off in the distance was in sight. Nothing… and no one but Lukos.
“Oh, funny how you thought I’d thank you. You’re sweet.” Akila said, voice tinging with sarcasm. “So no breaking hands got it.” She was talking at Lukos but she was looking past him. How could there be nothing? What was the point of leaving them out in the middle of nowhere. Akila rubbed her temples to try to soothe her headache, forcing Lukos’s chained hand closer whether he wanted it or not. She wanted to use her own hand, thank you.
“Right, so there were whores… a party… an exotic animal merchant and…. Oh, right, the fortune teller bone dice lady.” How could Akila forget that? That was very pivotal to her night, after all. Nothing made sense yet. But no one could ever forget her. How silly of Akila.
Her feet were uncomfortable. Akila kept shifting them. She was Egyptian, she was used to the hot sand. But typically she wasn’t standing on it barefoot completely unmoving. She started standing on one foot, the other hovering off the sand, before moving to the other foot. Where the hell was her sho-
“You’re wearing my shoes.” Akila had finally looked down the length of Lukos’s body. He was still hot, despite wearing a dress. Akila had seen him naked plenty of times before to know what was hidden underneath there. She knew what to expect… typically. She hadn’t expected her shoes on his feet. There were much too small for him. They probably hurt, which almost made the burning sand on her own feet worth it. She at least had a better constitution for it. Asshole.
Akila then looked down at her own clothes once more. They were too big for her. These were made for a man… were these Lukos’s? She didn’t wear chitons unless she was in Greece. The belt was certainly not Lukos’s style, but the chiton would fit him better. And that dress? Well… it looked like it would probably hug Akila much better… And while she didn’t prefer wearing dresses (after all, how often do you see a pirate wearing a dress?) it would at least be much easier on the eyes than the crap that was currently trying to swallow her whole. And honestly, Lukos would probably be easier to look at as well. Win-win.
Her eyes flickered back up. “Take off your clothes.” Honestly something she wouldn’t need to tell Lukos. If they were in the mood, well, things went without saying. “Let’s trade.”
I’m only thinking of your delicate constitution. Akila almost mimicked him like a child would mock their sibling to annoy them. She wanted to. She was annoyed, after all. She at least gave him a face, face twisting up and eyes rolling at his stupid words.
And yet surprisingly, it wasn’t Lukos that annoyed her most. It was this situation. They were stuck in the middle of nowhere, cuffed together, with no idea how they got here. If a key would be near at least they could get out of these chains and figure out who the hell did this. At least then Akila wouldn’t be tempted to chop off the mysterious asshole’s hand and make him choke on it. She’d at least be more humane.
But no. Nothing but a town off in the distance was in sight. Nothing… and no one but Lukos.
“Oh, funny how you thought I’d thank you. You’re sweet.” Akila said, voice tinging with sarcasm. “So no breaking hands got it.” She was talking at Lukos but she was looking past him. How could there be nothing? What was the point of leaving them out in the middle of nowhere. Akila rubbed her temples to try to soothe her headache, forcing Lukos’s chained hand closer whether he wanted it or not. She wanted to use her own hand, thank you.
“Right, so there were whores… a party… an exotic animal merchant and…. Oh, right, the fortune teller bone dice lady.” How could Akila forget that? That was very pivotal to her night, after all. Nothing made sense yet. But no one could ever forget her. How silly of Akila.
Her feet were uncomfortable. Akila kept shifting them. She was Egyptian, she was used to the hot sand. But typically she wasn’t standing on it barefoot completely unmoving. She started standing on one foot, the other hovering off the sand, before moving to the other foot. Where the hell was her sho-
“You’re wearing my shoes.” Akila had finally looked down the length of Lukos’s body. He was still hot, despite wearing a dress. Akila had seen him naked plenty of times before to know what was hidden underneath there. She knew what to expect… typically. She hadn’t expected her shoes on his feet. There were much too small for him. They probably hurt, which almost made the burning sand on her own feet worth it. She at least had a better constitution for it. Asshole.
Akila then looked down at her own clothes once more. They were too big for her. These were made for a man… were these Lukos’s? She didn’t wear chitons unless she was in Greece. The belt was certainly not Lukos’s style, but the chiton would fit him better. And that dress? Well… it looked like it would probably hug Akila much better… And while she didn’t prefer wearing dresses (after all, how often do you see a pirate wearing a dress?) it would at least be much easier on the eyes than the crap that was currently trying to swallow her whole. And honestly, Lukos would probably be easier to look at as well. Win-win.
Her eyes flickered back up. “Take off your clothes.” Honestly something she wouldn’t need to tell Lukos. If they were in the mood, well, things went without saying. “Let’s trade.”
“Oh, funny how you thought I’d thank you. You’re sweet.”
He rolled his eyes.
“So no breaking hands got it.”
“No,” he rolled his eyes again, his attention landing on her. “No breaking hands. I happen to need mine.” Hers were only really useful if she was on her knees but he didn’t say that. Perhaps he’d mention it later when she was more in the mood. It was like she could read his mind, then, because she suddenly sighed and rubbed her temples. The chains clinked and tinkled and Lukos’s hand tugged up in response, dragged by her action. “Hey!” he jerked his hand back, forcing hers off her head. “Have a care.” He ran his fingers through his hair….or tried, rather. The mop of curls on his head was so tangled and gritty from sand that he barely found the tiara again. There was nooooo getting that out, either. He was pretty sure he was getting a haircut after this if they lived, that was. Otherwise he might just have to walk around like a pretty princess for the rest of his days.
“Right, so there were whores… a party… an exotic animal merchant and…. Oh, right, the fortune teller bone dice lady.”
He nodded along as she rattled off the previous night, not batting an eye to any of it. Generally he did not party but when he did decide to let loose and stay a few days in port, things usually got fairly weird. They had just never been quite this weird. But then, they weren’t usually treated to the unique house that they’d entered last night, either. ...that had been last night, right? scrape, scrabble, scritch. His gaze flattened and then narrowed as he looked over at Akila’s legs where she was shifting them about in what seemed like a never ending series of movements, scraping rocks end over end, sand gritting along in a sweep.
“Do you mind?” he smacked his lips again, suddenly re-tasting metal. Apparently she didn’t because she was now getting to her feet and short of jerking her back down, (which he seriously considered), he had to stand as well. With a sigh, he heaved himself upwards, stumbled back a bit, blinked hard, and then felt a little better. His arms were out in a steadying pose and he glanced down as Aikla stood on one foot and announced,
“You’re wearing my shoes.”
“No-oh.” He touched his stomach, bunching up the fabric of the dress there, having entirely forgotten he was even wearing one. What was more confusing was how he’d forgotten, or at least not noticed until now, that he was wearing Aikla’s sandals. His poor feet were positively crammed into them, stretching out the leather straps, his toes off the end and his heel jammed into the back. Immediately he dropped to the ground, pulling her right down with him, to get these infernal things off. Now that he had noticed that they were there, they did hurt.
This dress was not easy to work with. It confined his legs so that he couldn’t keep them wide open, like he usually liked to do in typical male fashion. He hiked it up until it was midway up his thigh and then he set to work on freeing his poor feet from the sandals. That was a punishment all its own. The tops and sides of his feet were a mess of purple and blue crisscrosses from where the sandal straps had been so tight they bruised his feet. What monster would do this?? And where were his boots? ...where were his pants? Not on Akila.
“Take off your clothes.”
“Fuck you,” came the immediate response.
“Let’s trade.”
“Oh.” He looked down at himself again, his legs all exposed, his chest hair poking out. The straps dug into his shoulders. Then he looked at her outfit and wrinkled his nose. Was that really better? ...he held up a hand when she looked like she might be getting impatient. “I’m thinking, I’m thinking.” It took him the better part of two minutes to decide that walking across the desert in discomfort was probably the worst of the two evils. The other evil, of course, wearing such hideous clothing. At least the dress showed some cultured taste.
He stood back up, which dragged her back up, and unclipped the dress from his shoulders. It was so tight that it didn’t actually fall. He had to pull on it from his waist and shimmy his hips, inching it down little by little until he stood butt naked with the dress hanging on the chain between their hands as he stepped out of it. Lukos glanced down at it and then at Akila.
“You strip, too,” he arched a brow at her. “Make it good.”
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“Oh, funny how you thought I’d thank you. You’re sweet.”
He rolled his eyes.
“So no breaking hands got it.”
“No,” he rolled his eyes again, his attention landing on her. “No breaking hands. I happen to need mine.” Hers were only really useful if she was on her knees but he didn’t say that. Perhaps he’d mention it later when she was more in the mood. It was like she could read his mind, then, because she suddenly sighed and rubbed her temples. The chains clinked and tinkled and Lukos’s hand tugged up in response, dragged by her action. “Hey!” he jerked his hand back, forcing hers off her head. “Have a care.” He ran his fingers through his hair….or tried, rather. The mop of curls on his head was so tangled and gritty from sand that he barely found the tiara again. There was nooooo getting that out, either. He was pretty sure he was getting a haircut after this if they lived, that was. Otherwise he might just have to walk around like a pretty princess for the rest of his days.
“Right, so there were whores… a party… an exotic animal merchant and…. Oh, right, the fortune teller bone dice lady.”
He nodded along as she rattled off the previous night, not batting an eye to any of it. Generally he did not party but when he did decide to let loose and stay a few days in port, things usually got fairly weird. They had just never been quite this weird. But then, they weren’t usually treated to the unique house that they’d entered last night, either. ...that had been last night, right? scrape, scrabble, scritch. His gaze flattened and then narrowed as he looked over at Akila’s legs where she was shifting them about in what seemed like a never ending series of movements, scraping rocks end over end, sand gritting along in a sweep.
“Do you mind?” he smacked his lips again, suddenly re-tasting metal. Apparently she didn’t because she was now getting to her feet and short of jerking her back down, (which he seriously considered), he had to stand as well. With a sigh, he heaved himself upwards, stumbled back a bit, blinked hard, and then felt a little better. His arms were out in a steadying pose and he glanced down as Aikla stood on one foot and announced,
“You’re wearing my shoes.”
“No-oh.” He touched his stomach, bunching up the fabric of the dress there, having entirely forgotten he was even wearing one. What was more confusing was how he’d forgotten, or at least not noticed until now, that he was wearing Aikla’s sandals. His poor feet were positively crammed into them, stretching out the leather straps, his toes off the end and his heel jammed into the back. Immediately he dropped to the ground, pulling her right down with him, to get these infernal things off. Now that he had noticed that they were there, they did hurt.
This dress was not easy to work with. It confined his legs so that he couldn’t keep them wide open, like he usually liked to do in typical male fashion. He hiked it up until it was midway up his thigh and then he set to work on freeing his poor feet from the sandals. That was a punishment all its own. The tops and sides of his feet were a mess of purple and blue crisscrosses from where the sandal straps had been so tight they bruised his feet. What monster would do this?? And where were his boots? ...where were his pants? Not on Akila.
“Take off your clothes.”
“Fuck you,” came the immediate response.
“Let’s trade.”
“Oh.” He looked down at himself again, his legs all exposed, his chest hair poking out. The straps dug into his shoulders. Then he looked at her outfit and wrinkled his nose. Was that really better? ...he held up a hand when she looked like she might be getting impatient. “I’m thinking, I’m thinking.” It took him the better part of two minutes to decide that walking across the desert in discomfort was probably the worst of the two evils. The other evil, of course, wearing such hideous clothing. At least the dress showed some cultured taste.
He stood back up, which dragged her back up, and unclipped the dress from his shoulders. It was so tight that it didn’t actually fall. He had to pull on it from his waist and shimmy his hips, inching it down little by little until he stood butt naked with the dress hanging on the chain between their hands as he stepped out of it. Lukos glanced down at it and then at Akila.
“You strip, too,” he arched a brow at her. “Make it good.”
“Oh, funny how you thought I’d thank you. You’re sweet.”
He rolled his eyes.
“So no breaking hands got it.”
“No,” he rolled his eyes again, his attention landing on her. “No breaking hands. I happen to need mine.” Hers were only really useful if she was on her knees but he didn’t say that. Perhaps he’d mention it later when she was more in the mood. It was like she could read his mind, then, because she suddenly sighed and rubbed her temples. The chains clinked and tinkled and Lukos’s hand tugged up in response, dragged by her action. “Hey!” he jerked his hand back, forcing hers off her head. “Have a care.” He ran his fingers through his hair….or tried, rather. The mop of curls on his head was so tangled and gritty from sand that he barely found the tiara again. There was nooooo getting that out, either. He was pretty sure he was getting a haircut after this if they lived, that was. Otherwise he might just have to walk around like a pretty princess for the rest of his days.
“Right, so there were whores… a party… an exotic animal merchant and…. Oh, right, the fortune teller bone dice lady.”
He nodded along as she rattled off the previous night, not batting an eye to any of it. Generally he did not party but when he did decide to let loose and stay a few days in port, things usually got fairly weird. They had just never been quite this weird. But then, they weren’t usually treated to the unique house that they’d entered last night, either. ...that had been last night, right? scrape, scrabble, scritch. His gaze flattened and then narrowed as he looked over at Akila’s legs where she was shifting them about in what seemed like a never ending series of movements, scraping rocks end over end, sand gritting along in a sweep.
“Do you mind?” he smacked his lips again, suddenly re-tasting metal. Apparently she didn’t because she was now getting to her feet and short of jerking her back down, (which he seriously considered), he had to stand as well. With a sigh, he heaved himself upwards, stumbled back a bit, blinked hard, and then felt a little better. His arms were out in a steadying pose and he glanced down as Aikla stood on one foot and announced,
“You’re wearing my shoes.”
“No-oh.” He touched his stomach, bunching up the fabric of the dress there, having entirely forgotten he was even wearing one. What was more confusing was how he’d forgotten, or at least not noticed until now, that he was wearing Aikla’s sandals. His poor feet were positively crammed into them, stretching out the leather straps, his toes off the end and his heel jammed into the back. Immediately he dropped to the ground, pulling her right down with him, to get these infernal things off. Now that he had noticed that they were there, they did hurt.
This dress was not easy to work with. It confined his legs so that he couldn’t keep them wide open, like he usually liked to do in typical male fashion. He hiked it up until it was midway up his thigh and then he set to work on freeing his poor feet from the sandals. That was a punishment all its own. The tops and sides of his feet were a mess of purple and blue crisscrosses from where the sandal straps had been so tight they bruised his feet. What monster would do this?? And where were his boots? ...where were his pants? Not on Akila.
“Take off your clothes.”
“Fuck you,” came the immediate response.
“Let’s trade.”
“Oh.” He looked down at himself again, his legs all exposed, his chest hair poking out. The straps dug into his shoulders. Then he looked at her outfit and wrinkled his nose. Was that really better? ...he held up a hand when she looked like she might be getting impatient. “I’m thinking, I’m thinking.” It took him the better part of two minutes to decide that walking across the desert in discomfort was probably the worst of the two evils. The other evil, of course, wearing such hideous clothing. At least the dress showed some cultured taste.
He stood back up, which dragged her back up, and unclipped the dress from his shoulders. It was so tight that it didn’t actually fall. He had to pull on it from his waist and shimmy his hips, inching it down little by little until he stood butt naked with the dress hanging on the chain between their hands as he stepped out of it. Lukos glanced down at it and then at Akila.
“You strip, too,” he arched a brow at her. “Make it good.”
This was going to be a real issue. He had jerked her hand away from her head, so in response, she pulled it right back. When she had stood, he forced her down, and then when he stood he forced her up. She wanted to use this short chain between them to strangle him. She likely would, if it were not for the fact she’d be stuck dragging around dead weight. At least then I’d be able to break his hand.
At least Akila had her shoes. Except now they were torn, with a strap far to stretched to cling to her feet. “Could your feet be any bigger?!” Akila held the torn shoes. These would do her no good. They better get moving soon. Now Akila’s patience was nearly gone.
Fuck you. Oh. I’m thinking, I’m thinking.
“That would be a first,” Akila said straightfaced. What was there to think about? He could not possibly be considering wearing a dress. Was Lukos into that? Was he into dresses? Akila was learning things about Lukos she never needed to know. One of the most ‘fearsome’ pirates to roam the seas liked wearing... women’s clothing? Lukos will have to up his scary pirate game for a bit because Akila was absolutely going to spread that around.
Akila enjoyed the show, watching as he struggled for a bit with the dress. She made no attempt to hide her wandering eye. It was only when he spoke did it snap back up to his face. “Oh please, you act like me stripping isn’t always good.” Hmph.
Akila did not struggle near as much as Lukos did. Unknotting the horribly ugly belt, loosened everything enough that it immediately exposed her shoulders. She slid it down to her waist quite easily, the chain keeping it from hitting the floor. The worst part was stepping out of it. The Egyptian was not used to this much fabric. It hadn’t felt hot while she was wearing it, perhaps because of how baggy it was. But as she bent to search for the hole to step out of, she realized she was grabbing more and more fabric. Finally she managed to gather enough to step her leg through, and pass it over the chain.
The hard part was dressing again. With both of them fighting for their arm, twisting into the right spot, it obviously took longer than it would normally. “Ow, ow, asshole!” Akila exclaimed suddenly as her free hand slammed into Lukos’s shoulder. From her chained arm, she felt a searing pain as he twisted it one way it absolutely wasn’t meant to. “That’s my arm!”
Akila rubbed her shoulder once they have finally dressed. Her clothes were slightly stressed, but it absolutely hugged her way better than it did Lukos. Her breast filled the front completely, with a dramatic neckline giving a perfect window to them. And, positive, she was dressed much better than Lukos. Maybe he should have kept the dress after all.
But that wasn’t important now. Akila’s mouth was still dry, and her throat was beginning to ache. Her eyes went to the sky. “Fucking Ra,” she said under her breath. The sun was still very high in the sky, beating down on the two of them. It was hot. “Let’s go find water.” She said to Lukos. “And something to break this chain.”
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This was going to be a real issue. He had jerked her hand away from her head, so in response, she pulled it right back. When she had stood, he forced her down, and then when he stood he forced her up. She wanted to use this short chain between them to strangle him. She likely would, if it were not for the fact she’d be stuck dragging around dead weight. At least then I’d be able to break his hand.
At least Akila had her shoes. Except now they were torn, with a strap far to stretched to cling to her feet. “Could your feet be any bigger?!” Akila held the torn shoes. These would do her no good. They better get moving soon. Now Akila’s patience was nearly gone.
Fuck you. Oh. I’m thinking, I’m thinking.
“That would be a first,” Akila said straightfaced. What was there to think about? He could not possibly be considering wearing a dress. Was Lukos into that? Was he into dresses? Akila was learning things about Lukos she never needed to know. One of the most ‘fearsome’ pirates to roam the seas liked wearing... women’s clothing? Lukos will have to up his scary pirate game for a bit because Akila was absolutely going to spread that around.
Akila enjoyed the show, watching as he struggled for a bit with the dress. She made no attempt to hide her wandering eye. It was only when he spoke did it snap back up to his face. “Oh please, you act like me stripping isn’t always good.” Hmph.
Akila did not struggle near as much as Lukos did. Unknotting the horribly ugly belt, loosened everything enough that it immediately exposed her shoulders. She slid it down to her waist quite easily, the chain keeping it from hitting the floor. The worst part was stepping out of it. The Egyptian was not used to this much fabric. It hadn’t felt hot while she was wearing it, perhaps because of how baggy it was. But as she bent to search for the hole to step out of, she realized she was grabbing more and more fabric. Finally she managed to gather enough to step her leg through, and pass it over the chain.
The hard part was dressing again. With both of them fighting for their arm, twisting into the right spot, it obviously took longer than it would normally. “Ow, ow, asshole!” Akila exclaimed suddenly as her free hand slammed into Lukos’s shoulder. From her chained arm, she felt a searing pain as he twisted it one way it absolutely wasn’t meant to. “That’s my arm!”
Akila rubbed her shoulder once they have finally dressed. Her clothes were slightly stressed, but it absolutely hugged her way better than it did Lukos. Her breast filled the front completely, with a dramatic neckline giving a perfect window to them. And, positive, she was dressed much better than Lukos. Maybe he should have kept the dress after all.
But that wasn’t important now. Akila’s mouth was still dry, and her throat was beginning to ache. Her eyes went to the sky. “Fucking Ra,” she said under her breath. The sun was still very high in the sky, beating down on the two of them. It was hot. “Let’s go find water.” She said to Lukos. “And something to break this chain.”
This was going to be a real issue. He had jerked her hand away from her head, so in response, she pulled it right back. When she had stood, he forced her down, and then when he stood he forced her up. She wanted to use this short chain between them to strangle him. She likely would, if it were not for the fact she’d be stuck dragging around dead weight. At least then I’d be able to break his hand.
At least Akila had her shoes. Except now they were torn, with a strap far to stretched to cling to her feet. “Could your feet be any bigger?!” Akila held the torn shoes. These would do her no good. They better get moving soon. Now Akila’s patience was nearly gone.
Fuck you. Oh. I’m thinking, I’m thinking.
“That would be a first,” Akila said straightfaced. What was there to think about? He could not possibly be considering wearing a dress. Was Lukos into that? Was he into dresses? Akila was learning things about Lukos she never needed to know. One of the most ‘fearsome’ pirates to roam the seas liked wearing... women’s clothing? Lukos will have to up his scary pirate game for a bit because Akila was absolutely going to spread that around.
Akila enjoyed the show, watching as he struggled for a bit with the dress. She made no attempt to hide her wandering eye. It was only when he spoke did it snap back up to his face. “Oh please, you act like me stripping isn’t always good.” Hmph.
Akila did not struggle near as much as Lukos did. Unknotting the horribly ugly belt, loosened everything enough that it immediately exposed her shoulders. She slid it down to her waist quite easily, the chain keeping it from hitting the floor. The worst part was stepping out of it. The Egyptian was not used to this much fabric. It hadn’t felt hot while she was wearing it, perhaps because of how baggy it was. But as she bent to search for the hole to step out of, she realized she was grabbing more and more fabric. Finally she managed to gather enough to step her leg through, and pass it over the chain.
The hard part was dressing again. With both of them fighting for their arm, twisting into the right spot, it obviously took longer than it would normally. “Ow, ow, asshole!” Akila exclaimed suddenly as her free hand slammed into Lukos’s shoulder. From her chained arm, she felt a searing pain as he twisted it one way it absolutely wasn’t meant to. “That’s my arm!”
Akila rubbed her shoulder once they have finally dressed. Her clothes were slightly stressed, but it absolutely hugged her way better than it did Lukos. Her breast filled the front completely, with a dramatic neckline giving a perfect window to them. And, positive, she was dressed much better than Lukos. Maybe he should have kept the dress after all.
But that wasn’t important now. Akila’s mouth was still dry, and her throat was beginning to ache. Her eyes went to the sky. “Fucking Ra,” she said under her breath. The sun was still very high in the sky, beating down on the two of them. It was hot. “Let’s go find water.” She said to Lukos. “And something to break this chain.”
For someone so hot, Akila was shockingly irritating. He eyed her for a long moment, trying to decide how worth it it would be to wander the desert with her lifeless body thrown over his shoulder. Maybe he’d have done it if there was adequate water, food, and shade. And if she wasn’t so hot. And sometimes useful. Deciding not to choke her, he finally agreed to strip and for her to do the same.
He crossed his arms, the chain clinking as he did it, and waited expectantly for her. But now that he had the sandals off, he had to do a sort of hop on his tiptoes, from one foot to the other. The sand was already hot and he was not excited about this trek. Though, he did have a bit of an idea for once she got that horrendous expanse of cloth off her body. If he was feeling generous, he might be able to fix both of their shoe problems.
Pushing at the tiara in his hair, he finally turned his attention to Akila. She stripped off that hideous belt that Lukos briefly fantasized about burning. Or maybe tying it to a stone and letting it sink to the bottom of the aegean. However, the belt was so offensively ugly he briefly wondered if Poseidon would curse him for tossing such a ghastly accessory into the ocean. Best not to risk it. They could leave it in the desert for the sands to cover. No one need see it ever again. If they were very lucky, the sun would fade the colors, too, until they were a distant memory.
He had to tear his eyes from the belt and let the vision that was Akila soothe his poor eyes. She really was beautiful, even with that rat’s nest of hair. The more clothing she shed, the better she looked. It was a shame that his mouth was as arid as this desert and that he was hopping from foot to foot while chained to her with no hope of rescue. The only upside to all of this was that he was also vaguely nauseated and so didn’t feel hungry.
Once she passed the cloth to him, he had to briefly stop hopping and help pass the dress through the gaping arm hole of the...tent-like chiton. It was easier to slither the dress through that way than the other way around. “Ow, ow, asshole!” Akila complained as they fought each other, each too selfish and bullheaded to give the other a chance to dress first. Maybe if she was less of a pain in the ass and a little more in awe of him, as she should be, he might be gentler with her. That ship had long sailed and he glared at her, jerking the chain back his way with a lethal glower and an impolite “Oh fuck you” thrown in for good measure.
“That’s my arm!” she howled at one point.
He smirked. “I know.”
While Akila wriggled into her dress, Lukos practically fell into his clothes. Who was this even made for?? It didn’t look much better on him than her and though he was taller, he wasn’t all that much wider. The best that could be said was that he wasn’t busting out of it. Otherwise he looked a bit like a lost soul in it, dragging tatters and all. This had to be made for a really fat giant. ...Lukos arched a brow. ...nah...this couldn’t….
“You know,” he said, lifting the hem of the chiton and squinting at it. “This might belong to Arktos. He went through a phase where he got about as round as a whale…” Of course Lukos had never seen him at the time like that. It was before they met. Arktos wasn’t slim now but a little pot belly was not so out of the ordinary. But if this ever did belong to Arktos, then how did it get here? And if it didn’t, was there another giant wandering around?
Could he have that giant on his ship, too?
Turning to Akila, he was about to say something to that effect but snapped his mouth shut again and took a step back. He grinned and let out a long, appreciative whistle, eyes climbing all over her like he’d love to be at that very moment. “Zeus almighty…” She was saying something about water but his hands were already reaching for her and he wasn’t listening. “Mmmm...hello,” he said longingly to her chest, like her breasts, which were cupped lovingly in his hands this very moment, were long lost friends.
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For someone so hot, Akila was shockingly irritating. He eyed her for a long moment, trying to decide how worth it it would be to wander the desert with her lifeless body thrown over his shoulder. Maybe he’d have done it if there was adequate water, food, and shade. And if she wasn’t so hot. And sometimes useful. Deciding not to choke her, he finally agreed to strip and for her to do the same.
He crossed his arms, the chain clinking as he did it, and waited expectantly for her. But now that he had the sandals off, he had to do a sort of hop on his tiptoes, from one foot to the other. The sand was already hot and he was not excited about this trek. Though, he did have a bit of an idea for once she got that horrendous expanse of cloth off her body. If he was feeling generous, he might be able to fix both of their shoe problems.
Pushing at the tiara in his hair, he finally turned his attention to Akila. She stripped off that hideous belt that Lukos briefly fantasized about burning. Or maybe tying it to a stone and letting it sink to the bottom of the aegean. However, the belt was so offensively ugly he briefly wondered if Poseidon would curse him for tossing such a ghastly accessory into the ocean. Best not to risk it. They could leave it in the desert for the sands to cover. No one need see it ever again. If they were very lucky, the sun would fade the colors, too, until they were a distant memory.
He had to tear his eyes from the belt and let the vision that was Akila soothe his poor eyes. She really was beautiful, even with that rat’s nest of hair. The more clothing she shed, the better she looked. It was a shame that his mouth was as arid as this desert and that he was hopping from foot to foot while chained to her with no hope of rescue. The only upside to all of this was that he was also vaguely nauseated and so didn’t feel hungry.
Once she passed the cloth to him, he had to briefly stop hopping and help pass the dress through the gaping arm hole of the...tent-like chiton. It was easier to slither the dress through that way than the other way around. “Ow, ow, asshole!” Akila complained as they fought each other, each too selfish and bullheaded to give the other a chance to dress first. Maybe if she was less of a pain in the ass and a little more in awe of him, as she should be, he might be gentler with her. That ship had long sailed and he glared at her, jerking the chain back his way with a lethal glower and an impolite “Oh fuck you” thrown in for good measure.
“That’s my arm!” she howled at one point.
He smirked. “I know.”
While Akila wriggled into her dress, Lukos practically fell into his clothes. Who was this even made for?? It didn’t look much better on him than her and though he was taller, he wasn’t all that much wider. The best that could be said was that he wasn’t busting out of it. Otherwise he looked a bit like a lost soul in it, dragging tatters and all. This had to be made for a really fat giant. ...Lukos arched a brow. ...nah...this couldn’t….
“You know,” he said, lifting the hem of the chiton and squinting at it. “This might belong to Arktos. He went through a phase where he got about as round as a whale…” Of course Lukos had never seen him at the time like that. It was before they met. Arktos wasn’t slim now but a little pot belly was not so out of the ordinary. But if this ever did belong to Arktos, then how did it get here? And if it didn’t, was there another giant wandering around?
Could he have that giant on his ship, too?
Turning to Akila, he was about to say something to that effect but snapped his mouth shut again and took a step back. He grinned and let out a long, appreciative whistle, eyes climbing all over her like he’d love to be at that very moment. “Zeus almighty…” She was saying something about water but his hands were already reaching for her and he wasn’t listening. “Mmmm...hello,” he said longingly to her chest, like her breasts, which were cupped lovingly in his hands this very moment, were long lost friends.
For someone so hot, Akila was shockingly irritating. He eyed her for a long moment, trying to decide how worth it it would be to wander the desert with her lifeless body thrown over his shoulder. Maybe he’d have done it if there was adequate water, food, and shade. And if she wasn’t so hot. And sometimes useful. Deciding not to choke her, he finally agreed to strip and for her to do the same.
He crossed his arms, the chain clinking as he did it, and waited expectantly for her. But now that he had the sandals off, he had to do a sort of hop on his tiptoes, from one foot to the other. The sand was already hot and he was not excited about this trek. Though, he did have a bit of an idea for once she got that horrendous expanse of cloth off her body. If he was feeling generous, he might be able to fix both of their shoe problems.
Pushing at the tiara in his hair, he finally turned his attention to Akila. She stripped off that hideous belt that Lukos briefly fantasized about burning. Or maybe tying it to a stone and letting it sink to the bottom of the aegean. However, the belt was so offensively ugly he briefly wondered if Poseidon would curse him for tossing such a ghastly accessory into the ocean. Best not to risk it. They could leave it in the desert for the sands to cover. No one need see it ever again. If they were very lucky, the sun would fade the colors, too, until they were a distant memory.
He had to tear his eyes from the belt and let the vision that was Akila soothe his poor eyes. She really was beautiful, even with that rat’s nest of hair. The more clothing she shed, the better she looked. It was a shame that his mouth was as arid as this desert and that he was hopping from foot to foot while chained to her with no hope of rescue. The only upside to all of this was that he was also vaguely nauseated and so didn’t feel hungry.
Once she passed the cloth to him, he had to briefly stop hopping and help pass the dress through the gaping arm hole of the...tent-like chiton. It was easier to slither the dress through that way than the other way around. “Ow, ow, asshole!” Akila complained as they fought each other, each too selfish and bullheaded to give the other a chance to dress first. Maybe if she was less of a pain in the ass and a little more in awe of him, as she should be, he might be gentler with her. That ship had long sailed and he glared at her, jerking the chain back his way with a lethal glower and an impolite “Oh fuck you” thrown in for good measure.
“That’s my arm!” she howled at one point.
He smirked. “I know.”
While Akila wriggled into her dress, Lukos practically fell into his clothes. Who was this even made for?? It didn’t look much better on him than her and though he was taller, he wasn’t all that much wider. The best that could be said was that he wasn’t busting out of it. Otherwise he looked a bit like a lost soul in it, dragging tatters and all. This had to be made for a really fat giant. ...Lukos arched a brow. ...nah...this couldn’t….
“You know,” he said, lifting the hem of the chiton and squinting at it. “This might belong to Arktos. He went through a phase where he got about as round as a whale…” Of course Lukos had never seen him at the time like that. It was before they met. Arktos wasn’t slim now but a little pot belly was not so out of the ordinary. But if this ever did belong to Arktos, then how did it get here? And if it didn’t, was there another giant wandering around?
Could he have that giant on his ship, too?
Turning to Akila, he was about to say something to that effect but snapped his mouth shut again and took a step back. He grinned and let out a long, appreciative whistle, eyes climbing all over her like he’d love to be at that very moment. “Zeus almighty…” She was saying something about water but his hands were already reaching for her and he wasn’t listening. “Mmmm...hello,” he said longingly to her chest, like her breasts, which were cupped lovingly in his hands this very moment, were long lost friends.
This was a problem. Akila could not typically remain patient, especially when sober. And Lukos was doing whatever he could to piss her off. While typically she wouldn’t mind his hands around her breasts (especially if it was accompanied with her saddling his waist), this was not the time. She just needed to… count to ten.
Ten. If she killed Lukos now, she’d have to deal with that dead weight and that seemed like a pain in the ass. Nine. Even though he was a complete idiot, idiots can be useful sometimes. It would be a waste to kill him. Eight. He might remember something that might lead them to the asshole that chained them together. Seven. He wasn’t bad to look at and a great lay. Six. He was stronger than Akila. With his brawn and Akila's brain they had a better chance of getting out of here.
Five. … Oh fuck it.
Akila slapped Lukos.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to break your hand? Because this is how your hand gets broken.” Akila snapped at him and put a finger in his face. “Focus. We get water. We get unchained. We find who did this and kill them. We fuck. The last two can happen in any order I don’t care, but not the first two.”
Akila then crossed her arms over her chest. Give the dog an incentive and maybe he’ll do something, “Faster we get water and get unchained, faster you’re inside me and we’re both happy.” Until then, hands to yourself.
Akila looked around the desert again. All she saw was heatwaves and nothing else in either dir- oh what was that? She saw lines in the desert. Akila started walking, yanking on the chain to get Lukos moving. “Wagon tracks.” That was a start. But also that was a pain. How long did they go for? How long were they out for? There was little choice. They had to go somewhere. The only logical direction was following the wagon tracks. And so Akila moved forward, dragging Lukos along whether he wanted to go or not.
She did her best to ignore him. Akila didn’t much like her siblings, but she imagined him like one of those. Annoying little shits that you just had to deal with. That’s what he was. An annoying little shit. One that she dealt with by ignoring his existence. Except when one slowed and the chain grew tight.
They had been walking for hours. Her feet were sore from the flames she had been walking on, and her wrist was red from being cuffed so long. But at least she had mastered ignoring him. That was one pain that was less bothersome at least.
But now she was bored. That was another demon Akila hadn’t expected to encounter. B.O.R.E.D. Walking with no real plan was awful. She was just waiting for something to happen. Anything at this point. A fucking snake springing up to bite them would at least add more excitement. Anything but just walking.
“Cross my heart Making vows I know will be betrayed. A sad girl’s plea Live only for a breath and then they fade.”
Live only for a breath and then they fade? She scrunched her nose. “All in time revenge will be paid? What do you thi-” Akila cut off as her eyes focused on something. Going to the left there were… animal tracks. While something she wouldn’t normally care about, there was one things animals needed that humans shared.
Water.
“Trust me.” Akila said as she pulled Lukos from the path they were following. Honestly, this could be a disaster. But for ages, there had been no sign of water. If they die, at least they die in some exciting way and not of thirst. Right? Akila followed the small animal footprints until she found-
“An oasis.” Finally. Her throat was aching even more having finally seen water. There weren’t too many animals around it, none that seemed particularly predatorial. It even looked fairly deep for an oasis which was great for Akila. It would give her the chance to wash off some of the grime the desert was giving her. “C’mon.”
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This was a problem. Akila could not typically remain patient, especially when sober. And Lukos was doing whatever he could to piss her off. While typically she wouldn’t mind his hands around her breasts (especially if it was accompanied with her saddling his waist), this was not the time. She just needed to… count to ten.
Ten. If she killed Lukos now, she’d have to deal with that dead weight and that seemed like a pain in the ass. Nine. Even though he was a complete idiot, idiots can be useful sometimes. It would be a waste to kill him. Eight. He might remember something that might lead them to the asshole that chained them together. Seven. He wasn’t bad to look at and a great lay. Six. He was stronger than Akila. With his brawn and Akila's brain they had a better chance of getting out of here.
Five. … Oh fuck it.
Akila slapped Lukos.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to break your hand? Because this is how your hand gets broken.” Akila snapped at him and put a finger in his face. “Focus. We get water. We get unchained. We find who did this and kill them. We fuck. The last two can happen in any order I don’t care, but not the first two.”
Akila then crossed her arms over her chest. Give the dog an incentive and maybe he’ll do something, “Faster we get water and get unchained, faster you’re inside me and we’re both happy.” Until then, hands to yourself.
Akila looked around the desert again. All she saw was heatwaves and nothing else in either dir- oh what was that? She saw lines in the desert. Akila started walking, yanking on the chain to get Lukos moving. “Wagon tracks.” That was a start. But also that was a pain. How long did they go for? How long were they out for? There was little choice. They had to go somewhere. The only logical direction was following the wagon tracks. And so Akila moved forward, dragging Lukos along whether he wanted to go or not.
She did her best to ignore him. Akila didn’t much like her siblings, but she imagined him like one of those. Annoying little shits that you just had to deal with. That’s what he was. An annoying little shit. One that she dealt with by ignoring his existence. Except when one slowed and the chain grew tight.
They had been walking for hours. Her feet were sore from the flames she had been walking on, and her wrist was red from being cuffed so long. But at least she had mastered ignoring him. That was one pain that was less bothersome at least.
But now she was bored. That was another demon Akila hadn’t expected to encounter. B.O.R.E.D. Walking with no real plan was awful. She was just waiting for something to happen. Anything at this point. A fucking snake springing up to bite them would at least add more excitement. Anything but just walking.
“Cross my heart Making vows I know will be betrayed. A sad girl’s plea Live only for a breath and then they fade.”
Live only for a breath and then they fade? She scrunched her nose. “All in time revenge will be paid? What do you thi-” Akila cut off as her eyes focused on something. Going to the left there were… animal tracks. While something she wouldn’t normally care about, there was one things animals needed that humans shared.
Water.
“Trust me.” Akila said as she pulled Lukos from the path they were following. Honestly, this could be a disaster. But for ages, there had been no sign of water. If they die, at least they die in some exciting way and not of thirst. Right? Akila followed the small animal footprints until she found-
“An oasis.” Finally. Her throat was aching even more having finally seen water. There weren’t too many animals around it, none that seemed particularly predatorial. It even looked fairly deep for an oasis which was great for Akila. It would give her the chance to wash off some of the grime the desert was giving her. “C’mon.”
This was a problem. Akila could not typically remain patient, especially when sober. And Lukos was doing whatever he could to piss her off. While typically she wouldn’t mind his hands around her breasts (especially if it was accompanied with her saddling his waist), this was not the time. She just needed to… count to ten.
Ten. If she killed Lukos now, she’d have to deal with that dead weight and that seemed like a pain in the ass. Nine. Even though he was a complete idiot, idiots can be useful sometimes. It would be a waste to kill him. Eight. He might remember something that might lead them to the asshole that chained them together. Seven. He wasn’t bad to look at and a great lay. Six. He was stronger than Akila. With his brawn and Akila's brain they had a better chance of getting out of here.
Five. … Oh fuck it.
Akila slapped Lukos.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to break your hand? Because this is how your hand gets broken.” Akila snapped at him and put a finger in his face. “Focus. We get water. We get unchained. We find who did this and kill them. We fuck. The last two can happen in any order I don’t care, but not the first two.”
Akila then crossed her arms over her chest. Give the dog an incentive and maybe he’ll do something, “Faster we get water and get unchained, faster you’re inside me and we’re both happy.” Until then, hands to yourself.
Akila looked around the desert again. All she saw was heatwaves and nothing else in either dir- oh what was that? She saw lines in the desert. Akila started walking, yanking on the chain to get Lukos moving. “Wagon tracks.” That was a start. But also that was a pain. How long did they go for? How long were they out for? There was little choice. They had to go somewhere. The only logical direction was following the wagon tracks. And so Akila moved forward, dragging Lukos along whether he wanted to go or not.
She did her best to ignore him. Akila didn’t much like her siblings, but she imagined him like one of those. Annoying little shits that you just had to deal with. That’s what he was. An annoying little shit. One that she dealt with by ignoring his existence. Except when one slowed and the chain grew tight.
They had been walking for hours. Her feet were sore from the flames she had been walking on, and her wrist was red from being cuffed so long. But at least she had mastered ignoring him. That was one pain that was less bothersome at least.
But now she was bored. That was another demon Akila hadn’t expected to encounter. B.O.R.E.D. Walking with no real plan was awful. She was just waiting for something to happen. Anything at this point. A fucking snake springing up to bite them would at least add more excitement. Anything but just walking.
“Cross my heart Making vows I know will be betrayed. A sad girl’s plea Live only for a breath and then they fade.”
Live only for a breath and then they fade? She scrunched her nose. “All in time revenge will be paid? What do you thi-” Akila cut off as her eyes focused on something. Going to the left there were… animal tracks. While something she wouldn’t normally care about, there was one things animals needed that humans shared.
Water.
“Trust me.” Akila said as she pulled Lukos from the path they were following. Honestly, this could be a disaster. But for ages, there had been no sign of water. If they die, at least they die in some exciting way and not of thirst. Right? Akila followed the small animal footprints until she found-
“An oasis.” Finally. Her throat was aching even more having finally seen water. There weren’t too many animals around it, none that seemed particularly predatorial. It even looked fairly deep for an oasis which was great for Akila. It would give her the chance to wash off some of the grime the desert was giving her. “C’mon.”
Her slap didn’t land quite as true as she might have liked. For one thing he was looking down and her fingers half collided with his jaw. It stung and gave him enough of a headache to glare but that was all. In retaliation, though, he gave her ass a fairly hard, though not lusty slap. It was more punishment than anything else. Gods you could never tell with women, could you? At one port she’d climb all over him. Next port they had daggers at each other’s throats with all the feral seriousness of real murder on their minds. They were not friends but they were, not enemies, but definitely that, too, at times. He’d kill for her and he sometimes fantasized about killing her. She was, in short, delightfully infuriating.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to break your hand? Because this is how your hand gets broken.”
He grumbled out some snarky reply but did not raise a hand to his face. Even without a mirror he knew exactly what he’d find there; the red marks of her fingers and his own dark glower. His glare did not abate even with the promise of possibly fucking later. The slap hadn’t come at a good moment and was unwelcome right now, whereas if they’d been in a better situation, it might have been foreplay. He rolled his eyes and followed after her as she pointed out the wagon tracks.
They were there, alright. Faint, but there. Lucky, too, because with the shifting sands they could easily be covered up and lost forever. He slapped her ass again as they walked, coming up beside her rather than walking behind her, but she was doing her level best to ignore it. It was just as well. He was hot, thirsty, and now lapsing back into a foul mood. Needing to conserve energy, he didn’t waste it on needling her. Maybe if they were assured of death, he’d use his last bits of life to make sure she was having a bad time. Since there was a faint hope they might live, he was quiet.
Unlike her, he did not grow bored on the walk. True, the desert was a vast basin of sameness. No matter how long they trudged, the mountains to either side of them never changed and if they looked back, there was no marker to gauge how much progress they’d made. They hadn’t woken up in some rocky outcropping that might disappear from view. There was simply...nothing. He was too hot to be bored. Very few thoughts circled his mind as he walked except that he was regretting not ripping part of this chiton into strips to tie around their feet. It was too late, now. The damage was done and the only thing he fantasized about was salve for his feet while sitting in a massive tub of water.
Lukos didn’t even look up when Akila began to sing. He’d heard her before and this was by far not her best song. Her voice was tired and dry from lack of water but he didn’t complain. Nor did he join her. It was too much effort. He wasn’t annoyed by her at the moment, nor stressed by her, nor excited about her. While they walked and while she was still moving and therefore not adding to his suffering, she was a non-entity.
“Trust me.” Came quite as abruptly as being pulled off the direction they had been walking. He didn’t fight as she tugged. Like a little boat, he floated along after her, finally seeing the same thing she did. His eyes had been purely on the wagon tracks but now he saw the paw prints and came to the same conclusion she had. Oasis. He didn’t need coaxing to walk towards it.
The oasis shimmered out of the desert heat like it was sent by the gods. It boasted a swath of emerald green that dipped suddenly down into a stone basin of red rock striped with white and there, oh, there was water. Lukos drifted past Akila, past the goats who scattered at their approach, and simply slogged straight into the spring. It was cold, bubbling up from the earth and hideously deep in the center with a black hole reaching straight down into Hades, so far as Lukos knew.
He dunked his entire body into the spring, letting the water envelop him completely. Opening his mouth, he sucked in deep drink after deep drink until he was forced to surface. However, he didn’t take all he wanted. They had to go slowly or they’d vomit. It was enough to sit here. Lukos reclined back against the grasses on the bank, letting his head rest and his eyes close. The heat had sapped all of his energy and though the cold water felt amazing, he was still tired and now, hungry.
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Her slap didn’t land quite as true as she might have liked. For one thing he was looking down and her fingers half collided with his jaw. It stung and gave him enough of a headache to glare but that was all. In retaliation, though, he gave her ass a fairly hard, though not lusty slap. It was more punishment than anything else. Gods you could never tell with women, could you? At one port she’d climb all over him. Next port they had daggers at each other’s throats with all the feral seriousness of real murder on their minds. They were not friends but they were, not enemies, but definitely that, too, at times. He’d kill for her and he sometimes fantasized about killing her. She was, in short, delightfully infuriating.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to break your hand? Because this is how your hand gets broken.”
He grumbled out some snarky reply but did not raise a hand to his face. Even without a mirror he knew exactly what he’d find there; the red marks of her fingers and his own dark glower. His glare did not abate even with the promise of possibly fucking later. The slap hadn’t come at a good moment and was unwelcome right now, whereas if they’d been in a better situation, it might have been foreplay. He rolled his eyes and followed after her as she pointed out the wagon tracks.
They were there, alright. Faint, but there. Lucky, too, because with the shifting sands they could easily be covered up and lost forever. He slapped her ass again as they walked, coming up beside her rather than walking behind her, but she was doing her level best to ignore it. It was just as well. He was hot, thirsty, and now lapsing back into a foul mood. Needing to conserve energy, he didn’t waste it on needling her. Maybe if they were assured of death, he’d use his last bits of life to make sure she was having a bad time. Since there was a faint hope they might live, he was quiet.
Unlike her, he did not grow bored on the walk. True, the desert was a vast basin of sameness. No matter how long they trudged, the mountains to either side of them never changed and if they looked back, there was no marker to gauge how much progress they’d made. They hadn’t woken up in some rocky outcropping that might disappear from view. There was simply...nothing. He was too hot to be bored. Very few thoughts circled his mind as he walked except that he was regretting not ripping part of this chiton into strips to tie around their feet. It was too late, now. The damage was done and the only thing he fantasized about was salve for his feet while sitting in a massive tub of water.
Lukos didn’t even look up when Akila began to sing. He’d heard her before and this was by far not her best song. Her voice was tired and dry from lack of water but he didn’t complain. Nor did he join her. It was too much effort. He wasn’t annoyed by her at the moment, nor stressed by her, nor excited about her. While they walked and while she was still moving and therefore not adding to his suffering, she was a non-entity.
“Trust me.” Came quite as abruptly as being pulled off the direction they had been walking. He didn’t fight as she tugged. Like a little boat, he floated along after her, finally seeing the same thing she did. His eyes had been purely on the wagon tracks but now he saw the paw prints and came to the same conclusion she had. Oasis. He didn’t need coaxing to walk towards it.
The oasis shimmered out of the desert heat like it was sent by the gods. It boasted a swath of emerald green that dipped suddenly down into a stone basin of red rock striped with white and there, oh, there was water. Lukos drifted past Akila, past the goats who scattered at their approach, and simply slogged straight into the spring. It was cold, bubbling up from the earth and hideously deep in the center with a black hole reaching straight down into Hades, so far as Lukos knew.
He dunked his entire body into the spring, letting the water envelop him completely. Opening his mouth, he sucked in deep drink after deep drink until he was forced to surface. However, he didn’t take all he wanted. They had to go slowly or they’d vomit. It was enough to sit here. Lukos reclined back against the grasses on the bank, letting his head rest and his eyes close. The heat had sapped all of his energy and though the cold water felt amazing, he was still tired and now, hungry.
Her slap didn’t land quite as true as she might have liked. For one thing he was looking down and her fingers half collided with his jaw. It stung and gave him enough of a headache to glare but that was all. In retaliation, though, he gave her ass a fairly hard, though not lusty slap. It was more punishment than anything else. Gods you could never tell with women, could you? At one port she’d climb all over him. Next port they had daggers at each other’s throats with all the feral seriousness of real murder on their minds. They were not friends but they were, not enemies, but definitely that, too, at times. He’d kill for her and he sometimes fantasized about killing her. She was, in short, delightfully infuriating.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to break your hand? Because this is how your hand gets broken.”
He grumbled out some snarky reply but did not raise a hand to his face. Even without a mirror he knew exactly what he’d find there; the red marks of her fingers and his own dark glower. His glare did not abate even with the promise of possibly fucking later. The slap hadn’t come at a good moment and was unwelcome right now, whereas if they’d been in a better situation, it might have been foreplay. He rolled his eyes and followed after her as she pointed out the wagon tracks.
They were there, alright. Faint, but there. Lucky, too, because with the shifting sands they could easily be covered up and lost forever. He slapped her ass again as they walked, coming up beside her rather than walking behind her, but she was doing her level best to ignore it. It was just as well. He was hot, thirsty, and now lapsing back into a foul mood. Needing to conserve energy, he didn’t waste it on needling her. Maybe if they were assured of death, he’d use his last bits of life to make sure she was having a bad time. Since there was a faint hope they might live, he was quiet.
Unlike her, he did not grow bored on the walk. True, the desert was a vast basin of sameness. No matter how long they trudged, the mountains to either side of them never changed and if they looked back, there was no marker to gauge how much progress they’d made. They hadn’t woken up in some rocky outcropping that might disappear from view. There was simply...nothing. He was too hot to be bored. Very few thoughts circled his mind as he walked except that he was regretting not ripping part of this chiton into strips to tie around their feet. It was too late, now. The damage was done and the only thing he fantasized about was salve for his feet while sitting in a massive tub of water.
Lukos didn’t even look up when Akila began to sing. He’d heard her before and this was by far not her best song. Her voice was tired and dry from lack of water but he didn’t complain. Nor did he join her. It was too much effort. He wasn’t annoyed by her at the moment, nor stressed by her, nor excited about her. While they walked and while she was still moving and therefore not adding to his suffering, she was a non-entity.
“Trust me.” Came quite as abruptly as being pulled off the direction they had been walking. He didn’t fight as she tugged. Like a little boat, he floated along after her, finally seeing the same thing she did. His eyes had been purely on the wagon tracks but now he saw the paw prints and came to the same conclusion she had. Oasis. He didn’t need coaxing to walk towards it.
The oasis shimmered out of the desert heat like it was sent by the gods. It boasted a swath of emerald green that dipped suddenly down into a stone basin of red rock striped with white and there, oh, there was water. Lukos drifted past Akila, past the goats who scattered at their approach, and simply slogged straight into the spring. It was cold, bubbling up from the earth and hideously deep in the center with a black hole reaching straight down into Hades, so far as Lukos knew.
He dunked his entire body into the spring, letting the water envelop him completely. Opening his mouth, he sucked in deep drink after deep drink until he was forced to surface. However, he didn’t take all he wanted. They had to go slowly or they’d vomit. It was enough to sit here. Lukos reclined back against the grasses on the bank, letting his head rest and his eyes close. The heat had sapped all of his energy and though the cold water felt amazing, he was still tired and now, hungry.
Akila had grown accustomed to near-death experiences. She lost track of how many times she had been stabbed. She had been shot by arrows, poisoned, raped, beaten, bloodied on near every inch of her flesh. Akila knew her death would come young, and that was fine. But there was something extra insulting about a pirate dying from lack of water. She knew the gods didn’t much care for mortals, but they didn’t have to rub it in her damn face.
So upon finding that oasis Akila felt like flicking off the sky. Not today! She would not be dying of thirst. Akila was, obviously, close behind Lukos. Happily drinking the water, careful not to drink too much even though at this current moment she felt she could drain the entire oasis. Once she had enough and had completely submerged herself as well, she laid back beside Lukos. She didn’t say anything. She just stared up at the sky.
“You know in Egypt we have this story about Ra.” Akila said after a bit. “People were like fuck the gods and rebelled. So he was like fuck you and created this lioness. Sekhmet. She ended up going on a rampage and killing a bunch of people. Then he felt guilty and now he goes to the other world half the day. He’s here when it’s sunny. He’s leaving now.”
Akila shifted to her side propping her elbow up and resting her head on her hand. “So basically. He punished us and hides for half the day. I wonder if whoever did that to us is doing the same. I would if I were him. It ain’t gonna be pretty when I get my hands on him.” He’ll wish he never set eyes on Akila. Especially when she shoves her reclaimed khopesh straight in them. Which she better reclaim. No one fucking stole her stuff. No one.
Grrrrowl. Akila’s free hand floated to her stomach. This feeling was all too familiar. Hunger. She had spent so much of her childhood hungry that when she had thought that feeling normal. When she finally had her fill she didn’t know what to think. So the pangs at her side didn’t much bother her. But Akila didn’t necessarily like it.
It’s not like they could easily hunt for everything. Akila didn’t even have a small knife on her. They could potentially make rudimentary spears, but that was easier said than done. And even if they did do that she’d still have to hunt while attached to Lukos.
They could, perhaps, forage. Akila did use to do that for herself and her family when she was a child. Then it was nine people she would have to find food for, now it was only two. Or they could hold off a day and just hope that civilization was close. It was only one day after all. Akila had survived much longer.
Her dark eyes glanced at the sun. When they had woken up it was straight up in the sky. Now they had an hour left, maybe two of daylight. Some decisions had to be made. “You want to keep going, try to find sticks to make into spears, try to forage or say fuck it and go try to find some shelter for the night?” Akila asked Lukos. She can be a team player… sometimes.
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Akila had grown accustomed to near-death experiences. She lost track of how many times she had been stabbed. She had been shot by arrows, poisoned, raped, beaten, bloodied on near every inch of her flesh. Akila knew her death would come young, and that was fine. But there was something extra insulting about a pirate dying from lack of water. She knew the gods didn’t much care for mortals, but they didn’t have to rub it in her damn face.
So upon finding that oasis Akila felt like flicking off the sky. Not today! She would not be dying of thirst. Akila was, obviously, close behind Lukos. Happily drinking the water, careful not to drink too much even though at this current moment she felt she could drain the entire oasis. Once she had enough and had completely submerged herself as well, she laid back beside Lukos. She didn’t say anything. She just stared up at the sky.
“You know in Egypt we have this story about Ra.” Akila said after a bit. “People were like fuck the gods and rebelled. So he was like fuck you and created this lioness. Sekhmet. She ended up going on a rampage and killing a bunch of people. Then he felt guilty and now he goes to the other world half the day. He’s here when it’s sunny. He’s leaving now.”
Akila shifted to her side propping her elbow up and resting her head on her hand. “So basically. He punished us and hides for half the day. I wonder if whoever did that to us is doing the same. I would if I were him. It ain’t gonna be pretty when I get my hands on him.” He’ll wish he never set eyes on Akila. Especially when she shoves her reclaimed khopesh straight in them. Which she better reclaim. No one fucking stole her stuff. No one.
Grrrrowl. Akila’s free hand floated to her stomach. This feeling was all too familiar. Hunger. She had spent so much of her childhood hungry that when she had thought that feeling normal. When she finally had her fill she didn’t know what to think. So the pangs at her side didn’t much bother her. But Akila didn’t necessarily like it.
It’s not like they could easily hunt for everything. Akila didn’t even have a small knife on her. They could potentially make rudimentary spears, but that was easier said than done. And even if they did do that she’d still have to hunt while attached to Lukos.
They could, perhaps, forage. Akila did use to do that for herself and her family when she was a child. Then it was nine people she would have to find food for, now it was only two. Or they could hold off a day and just hope that civilization was close. It was only one day after all. Akila had survived much longer.
Her dark eyes glanced at the sun. When they had woken up it was straight up in the sky. Now they had an hour left, maybe two of daylight. Some decisions had to be made. “You want to keep going, try to find sticks to make into spears, try to forage or say fuck it and go try to find some shelter for the night?” Akila asked Lukos. She can be a team player… sometimes.
Akila had grown accustomed to near-death experiences. She lost track of how many times she had been stabbed. She had been shot by arrows, poisoned, raped, beaten, bloodied on near every inch of her flesh. Akila knew her death would come young, and that was fine. But there was something extra insulting about a pirate dying from lack of water. She knew the gods didn’t much care for mortals, but they didn’t have to rub it in her damn face.
So upon finding that oasis Akila felt like flicking off the sky. Not today! She would not be dying of thirst. Akila was, obviously, close behind Lukos. Happily drinking the water, careful not to drink too much even though at this current moment she felt she could drain the entire oasis. Once she had enough and had completely submerged herself as well, she laid back beside Lukos. She didn’t say anything. She just stared up at the sky.
“You know in Egypt we have this story about Ra.” Akila said after a bit. “People were like fuck the gods and rebelled. So he was like fuck you and created this lioness. Sekhmet. She ended up going on a rampage and killing a bunch of people. Then he felt guilty and now he goes to the other world half the day. He’s here when it’s sunny. He’s leaving now.”
Akila shifted to her side propping her elbow up and resting her head on her hand. “So basically. He punished us and hides for half the day. I wonder if whoever did that to us is doing the same. I would if I were him. It ain’t gonna be pretty when I get my hands on him.” He’ll wish he never set eyes on Akila. Especially when she shoves her reclaimed khopesh straight in them. Which she better reclaim. No one fucking stole her stuff. No one.
Grrrrowl. Akila’s free hand floated to her stomach. This feeling was all too familiar. Hunger. She had spent so much of her childhood hungry that when she had thought that feeling normal. When she finally had her fill she didn’t know what to think. So the pangs at her side didn’t much bother her. But Akila didn’t necessarily like it.
It’s not like they could easily hunt for everything. Akila didn’t even have a small knife on her. They could potentially make rudimentary spears, but that was easier said than done. And even if they did do that she’d still have to hunt while attached to Lukos.
They could, perhaps, forage. Akila did use to do that for herself and her family when she was a child. Then it was nine people she would have to find food for, now it was only two. Or they could hold off a day and just hope that civilization was close. It was only one day after all. Akila had survived much longer.
Her dark eyes glanced at the sun. When they had woken up it was straight up in the sky. Now they had an hour left, maybe two of daylight. Some decisions had to be made. “You want to keep going, try to find sticks to make into spears, try to forage or say fuck it and go try to find some shelter for the night?” Akila asked Lukos. She can be a team player… sometimes.
It was impossible to tell how long they lay there. He shivered a little as his body temperature finally came down. The water sat cold and delicious in his stomach. Goats bleated and shifted around at the far right edge of his vision. Vaguely he had some notion about killing one. But not now. Now he just let his limbs completely relax, his poor feet soothed by the water, and listened as Aklia told him some story about Ra.
“You know in Egypt we have this story about Ra. People were like fuck the gods and rebelled. So he was like fuck you and created this lioness. Sekhmet. She ended up going on a rampage and killing a bunch of people. Then he felt guilty and now he goes to the other world half the day. He’s here when it’s sunny. He’s leaving now.”
What a load of bullshit, he thought, lips parted, eyes still on the portion of clear blue sky unblemished by the orange and yellow leaking in at the rim of the earth. All sensible people knew that the sun was pulled by Apollo’s chariot, racing across the sky with a team of brilliant golden horses, and that his twin, Artemis, pulled her chariot after her brother, bringing night with her with her team of silver horses.
He turned his head as Akila shifted her position. His eyes fell to her chest where her breasts plumped up perfectly in that dress, nipples hard from the cold of the spring. He’d let her tell him any bullshit story if this was the view. “So basically. He punished us and hides for half the day. I wonder if whoever did that to us is doing the same. I would if I were him. It ain’t gonna be pretty when I get my hands on him.”
He said nothing to that, merely watched her hand travel down her body and come to rest on her stomach. His eyes traveled back up along her delicate wrist and the length of her arm, detouring again to her chest, before tracing his way over her chin, lips, nose, eyes. She looked to be doing a lot more thinking at the moment than he was. His thoughts had ceased altogether, except for one major impulse that he wouldn’t act on for the present.
“You want to keep going, try to find sticks to make into spears, try to forage or say fuck it and go try to find some shelter for the night?”
He finally sat up, hunching his shoulders as he pulled his legs up to his chest. The ugly chiton stuck to his ribs but hung from his shoulders in sopping wet curtains of smudged gray. Looking out at the goats, he watched them milling around. They didn’t seem to be too afraid of them, which meant they were at least semi domesticated. Possibly escapees from somewhere, which meant they were sort of close to civilization. Rubbing his nose with the back of his wet hand, he gestured towards the animals. In a low voice, he said, “It’ll be too cold to walk at night. We’re more likely to freeze and if I’m right, I don’t think there’s a moon tonight.” Without the moon, it’d be very dark indeed and even with the cold, they then ran the risk of accidentally walking into some crevice they would have seen in the day time. It wasn’t worth the risk.
“Let’s kill one of those goats. We can choke it out with this chain if we’re smart. Build a fire. Charr that bastard if we have to but at least we’ll live.” That was a far more likely plan than being able to catch the darting fish. They didn’t have time to build a proper trap, though Lukos could definitely make one come morning.
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It was impossible to tell how long they lay there. He shivered a little as his body temperature finally came down. The water sat cold and delicious in his stomach. Goats bleated and shifted around at the far right edge of his vision. Vaguely he had some notion about killing one. But not now. Now he just let his limbs completely relax, his poor feet soothed by the water, and listened as Aklia told him some story about Ra.
“You know in Egypt we have this story about Ra. People were like fuck the gods and rebelled. So he was like fuck you and created this lioness. Sekhmet. She ended up going on a rampage and killing a bunch of people. Then he felt guilty and now he goes to the other world half the day. He’s here when it’s sunny. He’s leaving now.”
What a load of bullshit, he thought, lips parted, eyes still on the portion of clear blue sky unblemished by the orange and yellow leaking in at the rim of the earth. All sensible people knew that the sun was pulled by Apollo’s chariot, racing across the sky with a team of brilliant golden horses, and that his twin, Artemis, pulled her chariot after her brother, bringing night with her with her team of silver horses.
He turned his head as Akila shifted her position. His eyes fell to her chest where her breasts plumped up perfectly in that dress, nipples hard from the cold of the spring. He’d let her tell him any bullshit story if this was the view. “So basically. He punished us and hides for half the day. I wonder if whoever did that to us is doing the same. I would if I were him. It ain’t gonna be pretty when I get my hands on him.”
He said nothing to that, merely watched her hand travel down her body and come to rest on her stomach. His eyes traveled back up along her delicate wrist and the length of her arm, detouring again to her chest, before tracing his way over her chin, lips, nose, eyes. She looked to be doing a lot more thinking at the moment than he was. His thoughts had ceased altogether, except for one major impulse that he wouldn’t act on for the present.
“You want to keep going, try to find sticks to make into spears, try to forage or say fuck it and go try to find some shelter for the night?”
He finally sat up, hunching his shoulders as he pulled his legs up to his chest. The ugly chiton stuck to his ribs but hung from his shoulders in sopping wet curtains of smudged gray. Looking out at the goats, he watched them milling around. They didn’t seem to be too afraid of them, which meant they were at least semi domesticated. Possibly escapees from somewhere, which meant they were sort of close to civilization. Rubbing his nose with the back of his wet hand, he gestured towards the animals. In a low voice, he said, “It’ll be too cold to walk at night. We’re more likely to freeze and if I’m right, I don’t think there’s a moon tonight.” Without the moon, it’d be very dark indeed and even with the cold, they then ran the risk of accidentally walking into some crevice they would have seen in the day time. It wasn’t worth the risk.
“Let’s kill one of those goats. We can choke it out with this chain if we’re smart. Build a fire. Charr that bastard if we have to but at least we’ll live.” That was a far more likely plan than being able to catch the darting fish. They didn’t have time to build a proper trap, though Lukos could definitely make one come morning.
It was impossible to tell how long they lay there. He shivered a little as his body temperature finally came down. The water sat cold and delicious in his stomach. Goats bleated and shifted around at the far right edge of his vision. Vaguely he had some notion about killing one. But not now. Now he just let his limbs completely relax, his poor feet soothed by the water, and listened as Aklia told him some story about Ra.
“You know in Egypt we have this story about Ra. People were like fuck the gods and rebelled. So he was like fuck you and created this lioness. Sekhmet. She ended up going on a rampage and killing a bunch of people. Then he felt guilty and now he goes to the other world half the day. He’s here when it’s sunny. He’s leaving now.”
What a load of bullshit, he thought, lips parted, eyes still on the portion of clear blue sky unblemished by the orange and yellow leaking in at the rim of the earth. All sensible people knew that the sun was pulled by Apollo’s chariot, racing across the sky with a team of brilliant golden horses, and that his twin, Artemis, pulled her chariot after her brother, bringing night with her with her team of silver horses.
He turned his head as Akila shifted her position. His eyes fell to her chest where her breasts plumped up perfectly in that dress, nipples hard from the cold of the spring. He’d let her tell him any bullshit story if this was the view. “So basically. He punished us and hides for half the day. I wonder if whoever did that to us is doing the same. I would if I were him. It ain’t gonna be pretty when I get my hands on him.”
He said nothing to that, merely watched her hand travel down her body and come to rest on her stomach. His eyes traveled back up along her delicate wrist and the length of her arm, detouring again to her chest, before tracing his way over her chin, lips, nose, eyes. She looked to be doing a lot more thinking at the moment than he was. His thoughts had ceased altogether, except for one major impulse that he wouldn’t act on for the present.
“You want to keep going, try to find sticks to make into spears, try to forage or say fuck it and go try to find some shelter for the night?”
He finally sat up, hunching his shoulders as he pulled his legs up to his chest. The ugly chiton stuck to his ribs but hung from his shoulders in sopping wet curtains of smudged gray. Looking out at the goats, he watched them milling around. They didn’t seem to be too afraid of them, which meant they were at least semi domesticated. Possibly escapees from somewhere, which meant they were sort of close to civilization. Rubbing his nose with the back of his wet hand, he gestured towards the animals. In a low voice, he said, “It’ll be too cold to walk at night. We’re more likely to freeze and if I’m right, I don’t think there’s a moon tonight.” Without the moon, it’d be very dark indeed and even with the cold, they then ran the risk of accidentally walking into some crevice they would have seen in the day time. It wasn’t worth the risk.
“Let’s kill one of those goats. We can choke it out with this chain if we’re smart. Build a fire. Charr that bastard if we have to but at least we’ll live.” That was a far more likely plan than being able to catch the darting fish. They didn’t have time to build a proper trap, though Lukos could definitely make one come morning.
He’s looking at my chest. To be fair, Akila couldn’t blame him. Now that he wasn’t just being grabby like they were his (and they certainly were not ) she wasn’t upset. After all, she had a nice damn chest. Though perhaps she should be a little annoyed that he wasn’t listening to her story. She was teaching him about the gods. No wonder Greeks were so clueless. Maybe if Lukos stopped thinking with his dick and listened every once in a while he’d actually learn something. Then again, that was asking way too much of him.
Not that that really mattered. Lukos wasn’t wrong. With no moon at night, things would get very dark. They probably could kill the goat with the chain. But they would have to drag the goat around until they found shelter. The desert was going to get cold, and sticking around the oasis would be even colder. Not to mention they should find some shelter to protect them from the desert. This may not be Egypt, but she suspected exposure could be just as dangerous. Especially if the wind picked up, that could prove deadly.
“There were rock outcroppings. Was it… twenty minutes back?” Akila furrowed her eyebrows. She was more distracted at that time about water, but she did remember seeing the rocks. It was backtracking, and it was quite a distance to drag a dead goat carcass, then there was the fact that they needed things for fire but one problem at a time. Water, shelter, food that is what a human being needed to survive. And gods dammit, Akila would survive because she was not going to die fucking chained to Lukos. That’s almost as insulting as her dying by drowning. In fact… it would be worse.
Now Akila sat up. She looked down at the chain between them. There wasn’t much distance, but it was certainly enough to get it around a goat’s neck. Of course, came the sneaking up on them. At least the goats didn’t seem to get spooked by humans. Luck seemed to be on their side.
“Alright, kill the goat, drag it to the rocks, hope there’s shit for a fire and…” tomorrow find the asshole. Alright, cool, that was… a plan. Or at least it was something Akila would do.
So Akila stood up. She moved her head side to side, cracking her neck from having been laying down for far longer than she anticipated. And then she said words that she had never expected to ever say, and if the gods had any sort of benevolence they would make it so she never said it again. She said, “I’ll follow your lead, Lukos.”
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He’s looking at my chest. To be fair, Akila couldn’t blame him. Now that he wasn’t just being grabby like they were his (and they certainly were not ) she wasn’t upset. After all, she had a nice damn chest. Though perhaps she should be a little annoyed that he wasn’t listening to her story. She was teaching him about the gods. No wonder Greeks were so clueless. Maybe if Lukos stopped thinking with his dick and listened every once in a while he’d actually learn something. Then again, that was asking way too much of him.
Not that that really mattered. Lukos wasn’t wrong. With no moon at night, things would get very dark. They probably could kill the goat with the chain. But they would have to drag the goat around until they found shelter. The desert was going to get cold, and sticking around the oasis would be even colder. Not to mention they should find some shelter to protect them from the desert. This may not be Egypt, but she suspected exposure could be just as dangerous. Especially if the wind picked up, that could prove deadly.
“There were rock outcroppings. Was it… twenty minutes back?” Akila furrowed her eyebrows. She was more distracted at that time about water, but she did remember seeing the rocks. It was backtracking, and it was quite a distance to drag a dead goat carcass, then there was the fact that they needed things for fire but one problem at a time. Water, shelter, food that is what a human being needed to survive. And gods dammit, Akila would survive because she was not going to die fucking chained to Lukos. That’s almost as insulting as her dying by drowning. In fact… it would be worse.
Now Akila sat up. She looked down at the chain between them. There wasn’t much distance, but it was certainly enough to get it around a goat’s neck. Of course, came the sneaking up on them. At least the goats didn’t seem to get spooked by humans. Luck seemed to be on their side.
“Alright, kill the goat, drag it to the rocks, hope there’s shit for a fire and…” tomorrow find the asshole. Alright, cool, that was… a plan. Or at least it was something Akila would do.
So Akila stood up. She moved her head side to side, cracking her neck from having been laying down for far longer than she anticipated. And then she said words that she had never expected to ever say, and if the gods had any sort of benevolence they would make it so she never said it again. She said, “I’ll follow your lead, Lukos.”
He’s looking at my chest. To be fair, Akila couldn’t blame him. Now that he wasn’t just being grabby like they were his (and they certainly were not ) she wasn’t upset. After all, she had a nice damn chest. Though perhaps she should be a little annoyed that he wasn’t listening to her story. She was teaching him about the gods. No wonder Greeks were so clueless. Maybe if Lukos stopped thinking with his dick and listened every once in a while he’d actually learn something. Then again, that was asking way too much of him.
Not that that really mattered. Lukos wasn’t wrong. With no moon at night, things would get very dark. They probably could kill the goat with the chain. But they would have to drag the goat around until they found shelter. The desert was going to get cold, and sticking around the oasis would be even colder. Not to mention they should find some shelter to protect them from the desert. This may not be Egypt, but she suspected exposure could be just as dangerous. Especially if the wind picked up, that could prove deadly.
“There were rock outcroppings. Was it… twenty minutes back?” Akila furrowed her eyebrows. She was more distracted at that time about water, but she did remember seeing the rocks. It was backtracking, and it was quite a distance to drag a dead goat carcass, then there was the fact that they needed things for fire but one problem at a time. Water, shelter, food that is what a human being needed to survive. And gods dammit, Akila would survive because she was not going to die fucking chained to Lukos. That’s almost as insulting as her dying by drowning. In fact… it would be worse.
Now Akila sat up. She looked down at the chain between them. There wasn’t much distance, but it was certainly enough to get it around a goat’s neck. Of course, came the sneaking up on them. At least the goats didn’t seem to get spooked by humans. Luck seemed to be on their side.
“Alright, kill the goat, drag it to the rocks, hope there’s shit for a fire and…” tomorrow find the asshole. Alright, cool, that was… a plan. Or at least it was something Akila would do.
So Akila stood up. She moved her head side to side, cracking her neck from having been laying down for far longer than she anticipated. And then she said words that she had never expected to ever say, and if the gods had any sort of benevolence they would make it so she never said it again. She said, “I’ll follow your lead, Lukos.”
“There were rock outcroppings. Was it… twenty minutes back?” Akila asked like she was checking to make sure. Lukos shrugged. Most of his bravado had leaked away under the scalding heat and intense thirst. Now he eyed her. “I don’t know. Was it?” The thought of having to carry a dead goat for twenty minutes was not charming. But they had little enough choice. He listened to her verbally workout their plan and then she surged to her feet. He stood a second or two after her, more weighed down by his clothing than not.
They still had at least two hours of daylight. After that, they were in trouble. “I’ll follow your lead, Lukos.” Rather than roasting her for that statement, he merely nodded and slogged his way out of the spring. Water gushed off his body and he left a strange, almost winged trail of muddy tracks where drips leaked off the sagging sleeves of his garment. There was no need to check for his companion. She literally couldn’t desert him, though she no doubt wanted to.
“That one,” he pointed to a midsized one that looked a bit older than the rest. It wasn’t the biggest but it wasn’t the smallest and it seemed slow. At least, to Lukos it did. It’d been a long, long time since he’d had to prepare his own food. On his island at home, food was brought to him. On the ship, it was the same. Obviously he paid people to do this because he had better shit to do than wrestle animals.
The goats, who had not been paying them much attention before, now raised their heads to watch them as he and Akila approached. When the first few began to slowly walk away, the rest of the herd followed. Lukos realized then that stealth wasn’t going to work. “Can you run?” he asked Akila and whether or not she said yes, he counted to three. “One, two, three!” and sprinted. It was awkward sprinting in those clothes, on sore feet, towards a goat who was now scrambling to get away from them. It tried to dart away so fast that its hooves slipped on the rock. It gained purchase soon enough but not before Lukos took a flying leap through the air and literally landed on it.
“BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” It gave a shriek, reared back its head, catching Lukos’s shoulder with its horns. He clenched his teeth, ignoring that for the time being as he roped the chain around the goat’s neck, thinking that this fucker was not going to deprive him of fucking supper. None of this was stupendously easy with a person attached to the other half of the chain. Lukos’s back also felt a little out of whack because it wasn’t like Akila could follow as smoothly as he needed her to and the roping had necessarily drug her forward, so that the chain hit the goat in the face first and then got around its neck second.
Choking it at this point was a mercy because Lukos was fairly positive he’d broken at least the spine if not one of its legs. It was over within five minutes. He finally sat up, coughing, slicking his hair away from his face, and then looked at his shoulder. “Shit,” he muttered. Two perfect punctures were there. Not terribly deep but they burned and he assumed they’d be worse come morning. It was hard to see how bad the bleeding was because his chiton was still so wet and now covered in goat hair.
“Fuck. Where’d you say that outcropping was?” he asked, standing now and hefting the lifeless goat around his shoulders like a shepherd carried a sheep. Its weight made him lean forward to keep his balance.
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“There were rock outcroppings. Was it… twenty minutes back?” Akila asked like she was checking to make sure. Lukos shrugged. Most of his bravado had leaked away under the scalding heat and intense thirst. Now he eyed her. “I don’t know. Was it?” The thought of having to carry a dead goat for twenty minutes was not charming. But they had little enough choice. He listened to her verbally workout their plan and then she surged to her feet. He stood a second or two after her, more weighed down by his clothing than not.
They still had at least two hours of daylight. After that, they were in trouble. “I’ll follow your lead, Lukos.” Rather than roasting her for that statement, he merely nodded and slogged his way out of the spring. Water gushed off his body and he left a strange, almost winged trail of muddy tracks where drips leaked off the sagging sleeves of his garment. There was no need to check for his companion. She literally couldn’t desert him, though she no doubt wanted to.
“That one,” he pointed to a midsized one that looked a bit older than the rest. It wasn’t the biggest but it wasn’t the smallest and it seemed slow. At least, to Lukos it did. It’d been a long, long time since he’d had to prepare his own food. On his island at home, food was brought to him. On the ship, it was the same. Obviously he paid people to do this because he had better shit to do than wrestle animals.
The goats, who had not been paying them much attention before, now raised their heads to watch them as he and Akila approached. When the first few began to slowly walk away, the rest of the herd followed. Lukos realized then that stealth wasn’t going to work. “Can you run?” he asked Akila and whether or not she said yes, he counted to three. “One, two, three!” and sprinted. It was awkward sprinting in those clothes, on sore feet, towards a goat who was now scrambling to get away from them. It tried to dart away so fast that its hooves slipped on the rock. It gained purchase soon enough but not before Lukos took a flying leap through the air and literally landed on it.
“BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” It gave a shriek, reared back its head, catching Lukos’s shoulder with its horns. He clenched his teeth, ignoring that for the time being as he roped the chain around the goat’s neck, thinking that this fucker was not going to deprive him of fucking supper. None of this was stupendously easy with a person attached to the other half of the chain. Lukos’s back also felt a little out of whack because it wasn’t like Akila could follow as smoothly as he needed her to and the roping had necessarily drug her forward, so that the chain hit the goat in the face first and then got around its neck second.
Choking it at this point was a mercy because Lukos was fairly positive he’d broken at least the spine if not one of its legs. It was over within five minutes. He finally sat up, coughing, slicking his hair away from his face, and then looked at his shoulder. “Shit,” he muttered. Two perfect punctures were there. Not terribly deep but they burned and he assumed they’d be worse come morning. It was hard to see how bad the bleeding was because his chiton was still so wet and now covered in goat hair.
“Fuck. Where’d you say that outcropping was?” he asked, standing now and hefting the lifeless goat around his shoulders like a shepherd carried a sheep. Its weight made him lean forward to keep his balance.
“There were rock outcroppings. Was it… twenty minutes back?” Akila asked like she was checking to make sure. Lukos shrugged. Most of his bravado had leaked away under the scalding heat and intense thirst. Now he eyed her. “I don’t know. Was it?” The thought of having to carry a dead goat for twenty minutes was not charming. But they had little enough choice. He listened to her verbally workout their plan and then she surged to her feet. He stood a second or two after her, more weighed down by his clothing than not.
They still had at least two hours of daylight. After that, they were in trouble. “I’ll follow your lead, Lukos.” Rather than roasting her for that statement, he merely nodded and slogged his way out of the spring. Water gushed off his body and he left a strange, almost winged trail of muddy tracks where drips leaked off the sagging sleeves of his garment. There was no need to check for his companion. She literally couldn’t desert him, though she no doubt wanted to.
“That one,” he pointed to a midsized one that looked a bit older than the rest. It wasn’t the biggest but it wasn’t the smallest and it seemed slow. At least, to Lukos it did. It’d been a long, long time since he’d had to prepare his own food. On his island at home, food was brought to him. On the ship, it was the same. Obviously he paid people to do this because he had better shit to do than wrestle animals.
The goats, who had not been paying them much attention before, now raised their heads to watch them as he and Akila approached. When the first few began to slowly walk away, the rest of the herd followed. Lukos realized then that stealth wasn’t going to work. “Can you run?” he asked Akila and whether or not she said yes, he counted to three. “One, two, three!” and sprinted. It was awkward sprinting in those clothes, on sore feet, towards a goat who was now scrambling to get away from them. It tried to dart away so fast that its hooves slipped on the rock. It gained purchase soon enough but not before Lukos took a flying leap through the air and literally landed on it.
“BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” It gave a shriek, reared back its head, catching Lukos’s shoulder with its horns. He clenched his teeth, ignoring that for the time being as he roped the chain around the goat’s neck, thinking that this fucker was not going to deprive him of fucking supper. None of this was stupendously easy with a person attached to the other half of the chain. Lukos’s back also felt a little out of whack because it wasn’t like Akila could follow as smoothly as he needed her to and the roping had necessarily drug her forward, so that the chain hit the goat in the face first and then got around its neck second.
Choking it at this point was a mercy because Lukos was fairly positive he’d broken at least the spine if not one of its legs. It was over within five minutes. He finally sat up, coughing, slicking his hair away from his face, and then looked at his shoulder. “Shit,” he muttered. Two perfect punctures were there. Not terribly deep but they burned and he assumed they’d be worse come morning. It was hard to see how bad the bleeding was because his chiton was still so wet and now covered in goat hair.
“Fuck. Where’d you say that outcropping was?” he asked, standing now and hefting the lifeless goat around his shoulders like a shepherd carried a sheep. Its weight made him lean forward to keep his balance.
This was the second time Akila had been stranded in a desert. The first time was when she was twelve. She nearly died getting from Edwa to the coast. It had gotten to the point that hunger was the only thing she could think of. Her ribcage was clearly shown her face sunken, and her eyes glazed and dead. But even in her desperation, she had never, not once, killed a goat quite like this. That was an odd time, most of it a blur, but this… well, it beat it in oddity.
Can you run? She was tired, not weak. Akila kept up with Lukos, though, they didn’t necessarily move in unison. The chain hit the goat before a second attempt managed to catch his neck. He thrashed all he could, but the combined strength of the pirates was no match for it. Still, it did it’s damage, particularly on Lukos’s back. Akila let out a low whistle seeing the puncture holes on his back but made no comment otherwise. They’ve both had worse. They’ve both done worse to each other.
“This way.” Was all Akila said, as she led Lukos away from their source of water, with the goat on his back. At least she didn’t try killing him. He was good for something.
Still. The twenty minutes were long. Even without the goat on her back, Akila felt fucking tired. She didn’t talk. She didn’t sing. She wasn’t even bored this time. She was just… moving. Waking up having been drugged, walking all day thirsty, choking out a goat, and now this… She was going to have fucking flashbacks of a time she’d rather erase from her history at this fucking rate. Akila just had to keep moving.
“There,” In the distance, there was the rock outcropping. Akila glanced around. She didn’t see signs of any animal trackings. It didn’t seem to be a den. But as she got closer, she kept her guard up, ready for any wild creature to come at them-- and their dead, bloodied trophy.
But there was no creature to be seen. The only sign of life was them. They were well and truly alone. But Akila didn’t sit and think about that. There was no point. Though now that the goat was here, being actually alone sounded pretty damn nice. Maybe after they started a fire…
Fire. That was the next problem. Food, water, shelter… fire. Akila looked around and her nose wrinkled. There were some desert plants near them that Akila knew would work. But like most plants found around these parts, they had thorns in them. “Fuck.” She muttered under her breath glancing at her palms.
But the long center, no matter how spindly, would catch fire very well. So Akila grabbed it, ignoring the stinging in her palms, and yanked the long center from the rest of the plant. She tossed it on the ground, away from the two of them. “Fuck!” she looked at her palms, prickly and stinging. But… necessary.
Finding the rest of the materials wasn’t all that difficult. An hour passed, and there was a crackling fire in front of them, just in time for the sun to really start disappearing. Akila looked at her hands, sore from the spines that she still was trying to pick out.
Crackle, crackle, crackle. The embers sparked, and the heat raised goosebumps on her flesh. Her wrist was also really starting to hurt. With all the pulling and yanking they’ve done to gain control of their hand, it was probably going to be very bruised by the time they do get off.
With time passing and the fire still in front of them, Akila had hoped that the goat would fill her stomach and leave her feeling warm. But when the sun had disappeared, the harsh moon brought a bitter cold. Akila moved closer to Lukos- not because she wanted to be near him. This experience filled Akila’s lifetime quota of being near the man. But he was… well, at least warm.
“Tell me,” Akila finally spoke, staring at the firm, close enough to Lukos that her side was against his side. “Does your chest hair make it any warmer for you? Is it a built-in blanket?”If not his chest hair, certainly the chiton he’s wearing is basically one.
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This was the second time Akila had been stranded in a desert. The first time was when she was twelve. She nearly died getting from Edwa to the coast. It had gotten to the point that hunger was the only thing she could think of. Her ribcage was clearly shown her face sunken, and her eyes glazed and dead. But even in her desperation, she had never, not once, killed a goat quite like this. That was an odd time, most of it a blur, but this… well, it beat it in oddity.
Can you run? She was tired, not weak. Akila kept up with Lukos, though, they didn’t necessarily move in unison. The chain hit the goat before a second attempt managed to catch his neck. He thrashed all he could, but the combined strength of the pirates was no match for it. Still, it did it’s damage, particularly on Lukos’s back. Akila let out a low whistle seeing the puncture holes on his back but made no comment otherwise. They’ve both had worse. They’ve both done worse to each other.
“This way.” Was all Akila said, as she led Lukos away from their source of water, with the goat on his back. At least she didn’t try killing him. He was good for something.
Still. The twenty minutes were long. Even without the goat on her back, Akila felt fucking tired. She didn’t talk. She didn’t sing. She wasn’t even bored this time. She was just… moving. Waking up having been drugged, walking all day thirsty, choking out a goat, and now this… She was going to have fucking flashbacks of a time she’d rather erase from her history at this fucking rate. Akila just had to keep moving.
“There,” In the distance, there was the rock outcropping. Akila glanced around. She didn’t see signs of any animal trackings. It didn’t seem to be a den. But as she got closer, she kept her guard up, ready for any wild creature to come at them-- and their dead, bloodied trophy.
But there was no creature to be seen. The only sign of life was them. They were well and truly alone. But Akila didn’t sit and think about that. There was no point. Though now that the goat was here, being actually alone sounded pretty damn nice. Maybe after they started a fire…
Fire. That was the next problem. Food, water, shelter… fire. Akila looked around and her nose wrinkled. There were some desert plants near them that Akila knew would work. But like most plants found around these parts, they had thorns in them. “Fuck.” She muttered under her breath glancing at her palms.
But the long center, no matter how spindly, would catch fire very well. So Akila grabbed it, ignoring the stinging in her palms, and yanked the long center from the rest of the plant. She tossed it on the ground, away from the two of them. “Fuck!” she looked at her palms, prickly and stinging. But… necessary.
Finding the rest of the materials wasn’t all that difficult. An hour passed, and there was a crackling fire in front of them, just in time for the sun to really start disappearing. Akila looked at her hands, sore from the spines that she still was trying to pick out.
Crackle, crackle, crackle. The embers sparked, and the heat raised goosebumps on her flesh. Her wrist was also really starting to hurt. With all the pulling and yanking they’ve done to gain control of their hand, it was probably going to be very bruised by the time they do get off.
With time passing and the fire still in front of them, Akila had hoped that the goat would fill her stomach and leave her feeling warm. But when the sun had disappeared, the harsh moon brought a bitter cold. Akila moved closer to Lukos- not because she wanted to be near him. This experience filled Akila’s lifetime quota of being near the man. But he was… well, at least warm.
“Tell me,” Akila finally spoke, staring at the firm, close enough to Lukos that her side was against his side. “Does your chest hair make it any warmer for you? Is it a built-in blanket?”If not his chest hair, certainly the chiton he’s wearing is basically one.
This was the second time Akila had been stranded in a desert. The first time was when she was twelve. She nearly died getting from Edwa to the coast. It had gotten to the point that hunger was the only thing she could think of. Her ribcage was clearly shown her face sunken, and her eyes glazed and dead. But even in her desperation, she had never, not once, killed a goat quite like this. That was an odd time, most of it a blur, but this… well, it beat it in oddity.
Can you run? She was tired, not weak. Akila kept up with Lukos, though, they didn’t necessarily move in unison. The chain hit the goat before a second attempt managed to catch his neck. He thrashed all he could, but the combined strength of the pirates was no match for it. Still, it did it’s damage, particularly on Lukos’s back. Akila let out a low whistle seeing the puncture holes on his back but made no comment otherwise. They’ve both had worse. They’ve both done worse to each other.
“This way.” Was all Akila said, as she led Lukos away from their source of water, with the goat on his back. At least she didn’t try killing him. He was good for something.
Still. The twenty minutes were long. Even without the goat on her back, Akila felt fucking tired. She didn’t talk. She didn’t sing. She wasn’t even bored this time. She was just… moving. Waking up having been drugged, walking all day thirsty, choking out a goat, and now this… She was going to have fucking flashbacks of a time she’d rather erase from her history at this fucking rate. Akila just had to keep moving.
“There,” In the distance, there was the rock outcropping. Akila glanced around. She didn’t see signs of any animal trackings. It didn’t seem to be a den. But as she got closer, she kept her guard up, ready for any wild creature to come at them-- and their dead, bloodied trophy.
But there was no creature to be seen. The only sign of life was them. They were well and truly alone. But Akila didn’t sit and think about that. There was no point. Though now that the goat was here, being actually alone sounded pretty damn nice. Maybe after they started a fire…
Fire. That was the next problem. Food, water, shelter… fire. Akila looked around and her nose wrinkled. There were some desert plants near them that Akila knew would work. But like most plants found around these parts, they had thorns in them. “Fuck.” She muttered under her breath glancing at her palms.
But the long center, no matter how spindly, would catch fire very well. So Akila grabbed it, ignoring the stinging in her palms, and yanked the long center from the rest of the plant. She tossed it on the ground, away from the two of them. “Fuck!” she looked at her palms, prickly and stinging. But… necessary.
Finding the rest of the materials wasn’t all that difficult. An hour passed, and there was a crackling fire in front of them, just in time for the sun to really start disappearing. Akila looked at her hands, sore from the spines that she still was trying to pick out.
Crackle, crackle, crackle. The embers sparked, and the heat raised goosebumps on her flesh. Her wrist was also really starting to hurt. With all the pulling and yanking they’ve done to gain control of their hand, it was probably going to be very bruised by the time they do get off.
With time passing and the fire still in front of them, Akila had hoped that the goat would fill her stomach and leave her feeling warm. But when the sun had disappeared, the harsh moon brought a bitter cold. Akila moved closer to Lukos- not because she wanted to be near him. This experience filled Akila’s lifetime quota of being near the man. But he was… well, at least warm.
“Tell me,” Akila finally spoke, staring at the firm, close enough to Lukos that her side was against his side. “Does your chest hair make it any warmer for you? Is it a built-in blanket?”If not his chest hair, certainly the chiton he’s wearing is basically one.
Because this was the desert, Lukos wasn’t wet for long. The twenty minute trek under the blazing sun, with the goat slung around his shoulders, its head lolling grotestquely to the side, was difficult. By the time they reached the outcropping, his clothes were merely damp. He didn’t fuss at her as she led them because he didn’t want to waste the energy. Instead he plodded along, listening to the crunch of their steps and the clinking of the chain. He missed being within sight of the ocean. All of his life, even in Midas and Magnemea, he’d been near the shoreline. When he’d been stolen by pirates as a child, he lived on a ship and on a nowhere island, always within sight of vast amounts of shimmering blue.
Now all he could see for mile upon mile upon mile were rust colored rocks, golden sweeps of flat, blinding sand, and the one oasis that provided a bit of green relief to his tired eyes. If he let the thoughts seep in that he might die far away from the water, he’d be in danger of being dispirited. Sometimes, for a bit of a pick-me-up, he watched Akila’s ass. But by the time that they were at the base of the outcropping and looking at having to hike up to it, even the entrancing sway of her posterior had lost some of its enchantment.
His shoulders burned once he was finally able to set the goat down but he couldn’t actually prepare it while she went to look for fire kindling. He had to go with her and while she did battle with thorns, he looked for sharp rocks that might be suitable for carving through meat. He didn’t find any rock that fit that description but he did find, dropped near the outcropping’s entrance, a rusted knife.
“That’ll do,” he said to himself. The knife was so dull and so worn and so old, that it was nearly useless for preparing the goat - if preparing was what that could be called. Mostly it involved Lukos stabbing the leg until he was able to twist and sever it. Getting the skin off was another harrowing experience that he seriously considered using an actual rock for, but he persevered and by the time the fire was ready to at least char their meat into some sort of semblance of something that could have been edible at one time, he was ready with the haunch of goat.
After not having eaten for who knew how long, he and Akila wolfed it down. It didn’t matter that it wouldn’t have been something he’d feed to a dog under normal circumstances? The point was that their bellies were full and they were dry and had a fire going. The entire outcropping smelled like blood and smoke with a faint tinge of sweat. Lukos had torn the dragging, tattered ends of his chiton to make a sort of pillow and was lying on his back near to the fire by the time Akila snuggled up to him.
His eyes remained on the roof of the outcropping, his arm slipping around her to keep her body pressed right against his. He didn’t have the same hatred of her that she did for him. Hers was a lot more spiteful. She definitely was not one of his favorite people, but she didn’t rank on the bottom, either.
Silence stretched between them for a time and Lukos’s eyes were starting to half close as he watched the stars out in the visible rectangle patch of sky, framed by a rock. “Tell me,” Akila began. Her voice made his eyes open a little more but not completely. His gaze never moved from the stars. “Does your chest hair make it any warmer for you? Is it a built-in blanket?”
“You’re such a bitch,” he smiled and turned then to spoon her. Nosing into her neck, he watched the shining gold of her profile in the firelight. “What were we doing?” he asked, his voice low now, speaking mainly against her ear. “Before we were drugged? I don’t remember anything except sailing into port and off loading my slaves. I don’t even remember meeting you and whatever party we must have hooked up at.” He pushed his hips against her ass but she was very safe for the time being. There were two layers of clothing between them.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Because this was the desert, Lukos wasn’t wet for long. The twenty minute trek under the blazing sun, with the goat slung around his shoulders, its head lolling grotestquely to the side, was difficult. By the time they reached the outcropping, his clothes were merely damp. He didn’t fuss at her as she led them because he didn’t want to waste the energy. Instead he plodded along, listening to the crunch of their steps and the clinking of the chain. He missed being within sight of the ocean. All of his life, even in Midas and Magnemea, he’d been near the shoreline. When he’d been stolen by pirates as a child, he lived on a ship and on a nowhere island, always within sight of vast amounts of shimmering blue.
Now all he could see for mile upon mile upon mile were rust colored rocks, golden sweeps of flat, blinding sand, and the one oasis that provided a bit of green relief to his tired eyes. If he let the thoughts seep in that he might die far away from the water, he’d be in danger of being dispirited. Sometimes, for a bit of a pick-me-up, he watched Akila’s ass. But by the time that they were at the base of the outcropping and looking at having to hike up to it, even the entrancing sway of her posterior had lost some of its enchantment.
His shoulders burned once he was finally able to set the goat down but he couldn’t actually prepare it while she went to look for fire kindling. He had to go with her and while she did battle with thorns, he looked for sharp rocks that might be suitable for carving through meat. He didn’t find any rock that fit that description but he did find, dropped near the outcropping’s entrance, a rusted knife.
“That’ll do,” he said to himself. The knife was so dull and so worn and so old, that it was nearly useless for preparing the goat - if preparing was what that could be called. Mostly it involved Lukos stabbing the leg until he was able to twist and sever it. Getting the skin off was another harrowing experience that he seriously considered using an actual rock for, but he persevered and by the time the fire was ready to at least char their meat into some sort of semblance of something that could have been edible at one time, he was ready with the haunch of goat.
After not having eaten for who knew how long, he and Akila wolfed it down. It didn’t matter that it wouldn’t have been something he’d feed to a dog under normal circumstances? The point was that their bellies were full and they were dry and had a fire going. The entire outcropping smelled like blood and smoke with a faint tinge of sweat. Lukos had torn the dragging, tattered ends of his chiton to make a sort of pillow and was lying on his back near to the fire by the time Akila snuggled up to him.
His eyes remained on the roof of the outcropping, his arm slipping around her to keep her body pressed right against his. He didn’t have the same hatred of her that she did for him. Hers was a lot more spiteful. She definitely was not one of his favorite people, but she didn’t rank on the bottom, either.
Silence stretched between them for a time and Lukos’s eyes were starting to half close as he watched the stars out in the visible rectangle patch of sky, framed by a rock. “Tell me,” Akila began. Her voice made his eyes open a little more but not completely. His gaze never moved from the stars. “Does your chest hair make it any warmer for you? Is it a built-in blanket?”
“You’re such a bitch,” he smiled and turned then to spoon her. Nosing into her neck, he watched the shining gold of her profile in the firelight. “What were we doing?” he asked, his voice low now, speaking mainly against her ear. “Before we were drugged? I don’t remember anything except sailing into port and off loading my slaves. I don’t even remember meeting you and whatever party we must have hooked up at.” He pushed his hips against her ass but she was very safe for the time being. There were two layers of clothing between them.
Because this was the desert, Lukos wasn’t wet for long. The twenty minute trek under the blazing sun, with the goat slung around his shoulders, its head lolling grotestquely to the side, was difficult. By the time they reached the outcropping, his clothes were merely damp. He didn’t fuss at her as she led them because he didn’t want to waste the energy. Instead he plodded along, listening to the crunch of their steps and the clinking of the chain. He missed being within sight of the ocean. All of his life, even in Midas and Magnemea, he’d been near the shoreline. When he’d been stolen by pirates as a child, he lived on a ship and on a nowhere island, always within sight of vast amounts of shimmering blue.
Now all he could see for mile upon mile upon mile were rust colored rocks, golden sweeps of flat, blinding sand, and the one oasis that provided a bit of green relief to his tired eyes. If he let the thoughts seep in that he might die far away from the water, he’d be in danger of being dispirited. Sometimes, for a bit of a pick-me-up, he watched Akila’s ass. But by the time that they were at the base of the outcropping and looking at having to hike up to it, even the entrancing sway of her posterior had lost some of its enchantment.
His shoulders burned once he was finally able to set the goat down but he couldn’t actually prepare it while she went to look for fire kindling. He had to go with her and while she did battle with thorns, he looked for sharp rocks that might be suitable for carving through meat. He didn’t find any rock that fit that description but he did find, dropped near the outcropping’s entrance, a rusted knife.
“That’ll do,” he said to himself. The knife was so dull and so worn and so old, that it was nearly useless for preparing the goat - if preparing was what that could be called. Mostly it involved Lukos stabbing the leg until he was able to twist and sever it. Getting the skin off was another harrowing experience that he seriously considered using an actual rock for, but he persevered and by the time the fire was ready to at least char their meat into some sort of semblance of something that could have been edible at one time, he was ready with the haunch of goat.
After not having eaten for who knew how long, he and Akila wolfed it down. It didn’t matter that it wouldn’t have been something he’d feed to a dog under normal circumstances? The point was that their bellies were full and they were dry and had a fire going. The entire outcropping smelled like blood and smoke with a faint tinge of sweat. Lukos had torn the dragging, tattered ends of his chiton to make a sort of pillow and was lying on his back near to the fire by the time Akila snuggled up to him.
His eyes remained on the roof of the outcropping, his arm slipping around her to keep her body pressed right against his. He didn’t have the same hatred of her that she did for him. Hers was a lot more spiteful. She definitely was not one of his favorite people, but she didn’t rank on the bottom, either.
Silence stretched between them for a time and Lukos’s eyes were starting to half close as he watched the stars out in the visible rectangle patch of sky, framed by a rock. “Tell me,” Akila began. Her voice made his eyes open a little more but not completely. His gaze never moved from the stars. “Does your chest hair make it any warmer for you? Is it a built-in blanket?”
“You’re such a bitch,” he smiled and turned then to spoon her. Nosing into her neck, he watched the shining gold of her profile in the firelight. “What were we doing?” he asked, his voice low now, speaking mainly against her ear. “Before we were drugged? I don’t remember anything except sailing into port and off loading my slaves. I don’t even remember meeting you and whatever party we must have hooked up at.” He pushed his hips against her ass but she was very safe for the time being. There were two layers of clothing between them.
