Completed Idle Hands

[Medja]

An extravagant, bandage wrapped figure floated listlessly through the halls of a section of the royal palace of Annuakat, a look of abject boredom marking her face. The woman glided past the profligate architecture in near disdain. Indoor fountains with cool, fresh water broke the silence of the immaculate halls, a testament to the God Emperor's incredible success. Incense burned silently in small bowls throughout the rooms and lion shaped statues seemed to mark near every entrance and exit to a room, a fact which irked Medja to no end. She couldn't help but envision the so-called "Fire of Lions" at the mere sight of each insipid sculpture. How she wished Gerra would just do away with the crippled fool already.

Medja continued on her way, lazily levitating herself between elaborate marble columns and over nonsensically placed pools of water. She always traveled this way, as she would not deign to place her perfect feet upon this unworthy floor. It seemed even a supposed "royal palace" couldn't be kept perfectly free of dust. She needed a bit of fresh air, she had decided, since dealing with the diplomatic letters and financial aspects of her position had left her so unbelievably bored. At last she reached the room she had been heading for, its presence marked by the beams of sunlight and waves of heat pouring into it. It was one of the few places with a balcony in this stuffy place that wasn't constantly clogged with the God King's other servants. That, and the view was lovely.

She approached the railing of the balcony and allowed herself to float into a resting position, placing her forearms on the marble rail and making herself look as though she were laying on her stomach, legs bent at the knee. She rested her chin on her hands and gazed out of Annuakat pensively. She watched the hustle and bustle of the citizens of the kingdom below. This always brought a smile to her flawless face.
Run, run, little ants.

Medja drank in the moment and closed her eyes. Times like this were becoming increasingly rare. Times where she could simply enjoy herself. No schemes, no badgering from underlings, and best of all no "peers" to disturb her. She allowed herself a contented sigh and imagined a world where she was Empress, a world where she would have naught to do but be doted upon by servants, fed the finest grapes and wine, and courted by the most beautiful men and women in the land. She giggled at the novelty. How quickly dull that would become. She didn't know how Gerra could stand the monotony.

Her alone time was not to last, however. It wasn't more than 15 minutes before she heard the shuffling of footsteps coming up the hall behind her. The woman huffed heavily and rolled her eyes. She decided she wouldn't bother acknowledging whoever it was until she absolutely had to. In the mean time she'd continue enjoying watching the ants scurry about below...

 

[Halul]

The Captain of the Immortals had quite an impressive office attached to his even more impressive personal quarters, though the office itself was used only on occasion. The responsibilities that came with his relatively newfound station often kept him from his office. A majority of his day would be spent in the Madrasa of War, where the future breed of Immortals was being cultivated. Children, most often orphans and street urchins, would spend their youths being educated and trained so that when they reached adulthood, they would serve as The Empire's most feared warriors.

Tucked under the Captain's arm was his horned helmet, and like all headpieces worn by Immortals, the metallic face of a fearsome shaitan was immediately noticeable. Uvogin had finally shed the armor he oft wore as a mercenary and now wholly embraced his position within the Empire.

As he concluded a walk of the palace's interior, as he often did following his return from the Madrasa of War, the Captain shuffled through several bound letters. The Madrasa of War was centered in Annuakat, though there were offices in each of the Seven Cities. His Lieutenants there reported in periodically.

A lukewarm breeze teased the Captain, and he followed its source to an open balcony. Sitting- no, floating there was a woman he'd only heard of by way of rumors. Even among the unique court that Gerra held, she stood out. No, a glance once again made it evident that the woman did not stand. He slid the helmet back over his head.

Uvogin walked onto the balcony and looked out over the railing. He made sure to stand more than a respectful distance from the woman.

"How are you finding Annuakat?" He heard his voice within the helmet. The man thought little in regards to the impertinence of his behavior.

After all, no matter how high one's station was within this vast Empire, the Imperial Divan was higher still.

 

[Medja]

The shuffling of footsteps eventually became clanking, paired with the obnoxious rattle of the armor that the Immortals wore. Before Uvogin had even addressed her, Medja had already surmised that it was their captain who approached. Who else among them would have the authority to walk these private halls?

His noisy arrival reached its crescendo, then stopped. Medja could see in her peripheral that the man had not even bothered to remove his helmet, or rather, that he'd put it back on when he saw her.
How interesting.
Medja doubted the man was expecting to have to engage in combat with a delicate lady of Gerra's court, which meant that he was attempting to either conceal his own reactions or invoke specific ones in her. A ghost of a smile danced across Medja's lips...the game was beginning.

"It is not as beautiful as my own fair Ragash, but it does have its charms."
Medja rolled over in the air and leaned upwards, the Fists of Aramekh darting around her as she did. One cupped its palm and quickly placed itself under her bottom, the other at an angle behind her back. The sorceress reclined casually in her makeshift chair and crossed one leg over the other, finally affixing her scrutinous gaze upon the armored figure at her side.

Medja had learned frustratingly little about Uvogin from her informants. A bounty hunter with a sense of loyalty turned military captain in Gerra's new empire, one who happened to be both skilled and...taciturn. The sorceress gave the man a coy smile.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, o great Captain Uvogin?"

 

[Halul]

“That is well,” he dispassionately remarked, still looking down at the city, “Ragash is indeed beautiful. Anything less would not have deserved to hold our Emperor’s coronation ceremony.”

It was not by design that Medja’s informants found so little on Uvogin. The man’s history was unremarkable and prior to his employment within the Bronze Claw, he is virtually untraceable. Perhaps that is the singular benefit of being born a slave of Cerak At’Thul.

He finally turned to face her. Several fine women made up Gerra’s court, and that was especially true in regards to the Imperial Divan. Yet, this woman’s features were more... alluring than any of the rest. Even Gerra’s many concubines would fall short of this sorceress. Any man less detached from his more primal urges than Uvogin would find himself easily swayed by her words.

“Coincidence,” he finally tucked the letters into a pouch on his belt, “A beneficial one, it would seem. We have yet to make each other’s acquaintance.”

 

[Medja]

"Indeed, quite fortuitous." Medja chimed, glancing briefly at the letters. A half truth. While the God King's hand was annoyed at the intrusion she was relieved, even a tad excited that it wasn't a fellow politician who had approached her. Military men were a different breed entirely, far less inclined to mince words or seek vulnerabilities. Plus, her lack of information meant that finding what made Uvogin tick would be a distinct challenge. Medja relished the opportunity.

The sorceress casually extended a her arm towards the soldier, her wraps loosening from her torso to allow them freedom of movement. She offered her hand for him to take, willing the bandages around it to unfurl themselves and reveal her soft, unblemished skin. Her lips parted in a playful smile.
"Medja, court sorceress and advisor to our God-Emperor. A pleasure to finally meet you in person, captain."

A straightforward play to test the waters. Much of Gerra's court members were either ill-mannered at best or terribly passive aggressive, thinly veiling insults under the guise of praise or discussion. The sorceress wondered if the king's finest warriors had perhaps been trained better.

 

[Halul]

The Captain watched as a caramel hand elegantly exposed itself to him. The fierce mask stared down for a moment before rising to meet the sorceress' gaze. Uvogin, when initially pitching his wishes for the armor of the Immortals, gave only two specific demands for its design.

Make it versatile, and have the mask resemble the fearsome and detestable shaitans.

After the brief moment of silence passed, the Captain removed the glove from his right hand and gently took her lithe fingers into his hand. Unlike the pristine condition of the sorceress' skin, Uvogin's hands were rough and calloused.

"Uvogin Hill, of the Imperial Divan and Captain of the Immortals. The pleasure is mine," He said with a courteous dip of his head. Following the conclusion of the exchanging of pleasantries, he slipped the glove back over his large hand.

He folded his arms behind his back and once again looked over the woman's figure, studying her body language. She sat with such confidence as if the massive floating hands were a throne and everything under her was her kingdom. He was sure that she would play her games the same as many others did, but he cared little for the machinations within Gerra's court. Their Emperor was too lenient, though he had a way of uniting his followers when it was most needed.

Truly, Uvogin did not care so long as they did not compromise Gerra's safety. All other acts could be forgiven, but endangering his friend and Emperor could not.

 

[Medja]

Medja raised an eyebrow at the Immortal's chosen method of returning her gesture. She found her smile growing from a polite one to one of genuine amusement. She made the move merely to see if the man would remove his helmet and kiss her hand or if he'd simply refuse; instead he politely removed his glove and shook her hand. This man was either unspoiled by worldly affairs or wholly devoted to his career lifestyle. Either way, he'd caught Medja's interest.

The court sorceress withdrew her hand, her bindings moving to wrap it up once more. She covered her mouth and giggled politely. Somehow this quiet man was managing to be more interesting than any devious court member in the palace. She uncrossed her legs, lifted one and crossed it over the other again. One of the fingers on the Fist behind her back curled down to form an armrest, which Medja promptly leaned on. Resting her chin on her hand, she stared into the emotionless mask, wishing she could study the man beneath's features.
"So tell me Uvogin Hill of the Imperial Divan, Captain of the Immortals, what brings you to my balcony this day? Surely you've not come all this way for a simple handshake."

Medja asked, displaying genuine interest. The advisor focused her gaze as intently as she could where she believed the man's eyes hid behind his metal guise. She only hoped the soldier would grasp the deeper meaning of her question.

 

[Halul]

The Captain was never one to break composure. Emotions were often an unnecessary thing, and it was a rare sight for Uvogin to display any save for dry amusement or his caustic wit. He was, if nothing else, a man in perfect control of himself.

He did, however, find Medja's mannerisms and small idiosyncracies to be, at the very least, a small joy to the eyes. While he was not one to act on such impulses, he could see how other men would.

His head cocked to the side like a curious dog. Her balcony?

"As I've said, coincidence brought me here. As you may- or may not know, overseeing the Madrasa of War is also one of my responsibilities. I am returning from there."

His posture was rigid, and his tone a dour monotone made even duller from being stifled by his headgear. Uvogin paused a moment and glanced over the woman once more.

"Life must be simple and leisurely for a sorceress of the court and adviser to our Emperor. It seems you are free to your own devices when there is no court to be held, nor advice to be given." There was no ill-will behind his words despite them passing his lips as an ostensible jab at the woman. After all, Uvogin's skills were of the martial variety. The man was far from tactful.

 

[Medja]

While so many other men would've been so easy to wrap up within her web, Uvogin was a difficult nut to crack. Medja liked that. Stoic as the captain was, however, that head cock was so telling. Even through armor and masks, people couldn't hide all of their thoughts and feelings. Tone of voice and body language were open books in their own right. Medja squinted almost imperceptibly at the motion. A curious dog, yes, but a well trained one if he was to be perturbed by her subtle claim over this one small segment of the palace.

As expected, the Immortal missed the point. So very literal, these ones. Perhaps she'd return to the question later.

"Life must be simple and leisurely for a sorceress of the court and adviser to our Emperor. It seems you are free to your own devices when there is no court to be held, nor advice to be given."

Literal and direct. Had anyone else made such an observation she'd have been sure that they were taking the piss. Gerra kept his soldiers ignorant, however, this much was known to Medja. A smart choice; knowledge of the workings of the court was unnecessary to the Immortals' regimen and would merely detract from the laser focus on martial prowess the men were known to have. Regarless, the comment elicited a laugh from the sorceress.

"Hardly so, dear Uvogin. Count yourself blessed that you should never have to deal with the bureaucracy of Gerra's court. I assure you, it is much more socially burdensome than anything our ruler has you doing down at the Madrasa. There is much to be done in keeping a country running that our God-Emperor could not be bothered with." Medja, however, could...a fact which had earned her her title among the locals.
"No, I was merely taking a small break. Surely even the Captain of the Immortals must take a moment out of that armor to unwind, from time to time."

 

[Halul]

"Hardly so, dear Uvogin. Count yourself blessed that you should never have to deal with the bureaucracy of Gerra's court. I assure you, it is much more socially burdensome than anything our ruler has you doing down at the Madrasa. There is much to be done in keeping a country running that our God-Emperor could not be bothered with."

"I see. As you know, I am oft absent from the court. Forgive me."

"Surely even the Captain of the Immortals must take a moment out of that armor to unwind, from time to time."

A small, droll smile flashed under the mask. "Only to clean it."

His post did come with its little pleasures. He had the freedom to roam wherever he desired, and with that came a very welcome solitude from the pit of vipers known as the Imperial Palace.

He looked at the finger of one of his gloved hands. There was dirt there. He idly rubbed it with his thumb.

"I'm sure if I were thrust forth to carry social burdens, I would be consumed by your fellow holders-of-office."

Stripped of his armor, piece by piece, only to have his flesh be picked off of his bones by the vultures that circled there. All were chosen because they brought something of benefit to Gerra's court, though Uvogin found many of them to be useless. Was this woman like chaff?

 

[Medja]

"I see. As you know, I am oft absent from the court. Forgive me."

"Hmmm, not at all, dear captain," She hummed. "Most meetings are beyond monotonous. I've even caught Gerra dozing off on occasion. The time and talents of a man such as yourself would be wasted at those dreadful meetings."

"Only to clean it."

"I'm sure if I were thrust forth to carry social burdens, I would be consumed by your fellow holders-of-office."

Medja raised her eyebrows, a bit of a proud smirk appearing on her face.
"My, oh my! Was that a hint of humor I just detected, perhaps sarcasm? I was beginning to wonder if you had it in you, dear captain." She tittered playfully. She could practically hear the smile underneath the man's guise. Progress, however little, was progress. That said, his comment about her "fellow holders-of-office" created a little nagging sensation within her. How she loathed them...especially that lowly assassin that dared to let himself be called a vizier.

"Hmph. I'd hardly deign to call them my 'fellows.' If even half of them did their jobs with even a shred of competence then perhaps our God King would not need my services." Medja mused, her voice dripping with contempt. A beetle buzzed by and alighted on her arm, but her bandages quickly snatched it up and deposited it on the railing, one making a 'shoo' motion to send it on its way.
"All those imbeciles care about is enjoying the social status that goes with their positions. That's what I like about men like you, Uvogin. You're committed, focused, and above all..." She rolled towards him as she spoke, her verdant eyes positively blazing, and walked her fingers delicately across one of his shoulder plates.
"You know how to get things done properly."

 

[Halul]

Uvogin was not one to eat up flattery, but the woman was not wrong. He killed men, not debated against them.

"My, oh my! Was that a hint of humor I just detected, perhaps sarcasm? I was beginning to wonder if you had it in you, dear captain."

"It was an attempt," the mask nodded once in affirmation to her.

"Hmph. I'd hardly deign to call them my 'fellows.' If even half of them did their jobs with even a shred of competence then perhaps our God King would not need my services." Medja mused, her voice dripping with contempt. A beetle buzzed by and alighted on her arm, but her bandages quickly snatched it up and deposited it on the railing, one making a 'shoo' motion to send it on its way.
"All those imbeciles care about is enjoying the social status that goes with their positions. That's what I like about men like you, Uvogin. You're committed, focused, and above all..." She rolled towards him as she spoke, her verdant eyes positively blazing, and walked her fingers delicately across one of his shoulder plates.
"You know how to get things done properly."

He listened in silence to her speak on about her peers and found himself nodding along. Then came the flattery. And her fingers dancing across his shoulder. He looked down on the woman, staring into eyes like jade.

"It sounds to me that there is a task you need completed. Properly."

 

[Medja]

"It sounds to me that there is a task you need completed. Properly."

Medja felt as though she had successfully pulled the captain into the palm of her hand. It was a feeling she positively relished. Perhaps this afternoon would not be so dull after all.
"Perhaps I do..." She leaned close, right next to Uvogin's head, exploring the space that the captain had allowed her hand to invade. Her next words came as a whisper. "Remove your helmet and I may give you a more definite answer."

Another sly giggle escaped her. A bold move, to be certain, but Medja had far more to gain by testing the waters than she had to lose.

 

[Halul]

Surprisingly, the sorceress had been the first to ever ask to see Uvogin's face. He wondered, did she feel as if he danced in her palm like a court jester from the eastern kingdoms? Or perhaps a monkey? He couldn't put words to it, but her asking to remove his helmet struck a nerve.

Uvogin carefully seized Medja's bandaged hand and lifted it from his shoulder.

"I am afraid I will have to refuse," he lowered his head slightly and looked into her green eyes, "at least for the moment."

He released her hand.

"You'll find that I prove to be an... insipid plaything. Perhaps your luck would fare better with a young noble of the court?"

 

[Medja]

Medja didn't skip a beat. The captain's defensive reaction had clued her in on everything she needed to know. Yet more tittering laughter ushered forth.

"Plaything? Dear Uvogin, I merely wanted to gauge whether or not you suited my interests." Medja teased, batting her eyelashes. "To be quite frank, the men of the court simply don't cut it. Oh well, your loss."

Medja reclined back into her seat once again, a knowing smile on her lips. Oh, this was too much fun!
"Perhaps if you find the 'moment' more to your liking later you can come find my bed chamber. Maybe then we'll see if you can complete a task..." She willed the Fists to begin floating back towards the egress of the palace. She turned back to look at him, simpering over the top of the stone hand, gaze piercing straight through him. "...properly."

She didn't care if the Immortal followed her leisurely exit. She had already got what she wanted.

 

[Halul]

For once, Uvogin's silence was not of his own volition. The woman floated into the hallway, leaving a stunned Immortal in her wake. She was cunning, and not one to be intimidated by presence.

The Captain wasn't a man driven by emotions or impulses, but he stepped into the hallway and watched the sorceress' frame recede down the hall. There was something almost unbearably frustrating about the way she'd found amusement speaking to him and led him by the nose through the brief conversation.

He'd been completely and utterly bested in what he didn't even realize was a verbal bout. Uvogin walked towards the opposite end of the hall, continuing on his original path.

He knew it would not be the last time they spoke, though despite all his frustrations he did not dread the next meeting between the two.

 

[Medja]

Many days later...

Things had been quite eventful in recent times, a refreshing change from the usual dragging pace that seemed to fill Medja's days. She had gotten to watch the Mad Dog, Jerik be publicly humiliated, which was an ever so satisfying sight; she had participated in a grand siege and perhaps curried favor with her lord; and, perhaps the most enlightening event was getting to see her conversational partner, Uvogin, out of his armor. The latter was certainly unexpected, to be sure. In fact, after their first encounter the sorceress was beginning to wonder if he was even capable of removing his helmet.

Floating down a hall within the palace , Medja began to wonder what was in store for her next. At the moment she was simply delivering some documents to another court member; logistical details and matters of establishing a new, more stable economic situation in Salitra. It was only fitting since she had been the one to orchestrate its deterioration in the first place.

Thankfully she didn't have to bother carrying any of the scrolls herself. The Fists of Aramekh were exceptionally convenient for such tasks. Sure, she could've had a servant deliver the documents for her, but this gave her a chance to get out of her office and perhaps bump into someone she could have something resembling a stimulating conversation with.

 

[Halul]

It was a rare occurrence for Uvogin to find himself without any tasks. Without a doubt, he was dutiful and efficient in carrying out his responsibilities, though he wasn't one to create work for himself when there was nothing substantial to be done. The Immortal sat in his personal quarters, a small room furnished with several cushions and rugs, all white and red in color. To the side, sunlight filtered in through a wood screen and under the wooden archway that opened the room up to a balcony. Unlike many of the other notables that lived within the palace, Uvogin chose small, simple lodgings. He did not need much, and his wants were few.

He sat just inside of the balcony by a small table, letting the sun filter through the balcony's entrance and onto his skin. A ceramic cup sat in a small saucer; steam rose from the dark coffee in the cup.

The man was out of uniform, opting instead to wear a simple tunic and shawl. The single braid that hung by the side of his face was decorated with subtle gold cuffs.

One could walk by the doorway to his quarters and see the captain sitting there, seemingly doing nothing but enjoying the taste of bitter coffee.

 

[Medja]

Medja continued her silent drift along the palace halls. They were...strangely empty this day. Odd. The rooms in this section of the palace were also quite meager compared to many of the more illustrious offices she was used to seeing. It suddenly occurred to her: in her daydreaming she had allowed herself to get lost. An embarrassing feat for a geomancer such as herself, to be sure. No matter; a brush of the hand along the nearest wall would set her straight.

The courtier let the bandages around her left hand fall free. She traced a nearby wall with her fingers, letting her senses reach out through the halls as she proceeded. Her mind's eye painted the picture of the palace wing's schematics. She felt the movements of others vibrating through the fundament and into her fingers and...oh, what was this? Someone nearby in an office, just down the hall. One with no door, no less. This required further investigation.

The sorceress pulled her senses back into her body and moved towards the open doorway she'd envisioned. Upon reaching the portal, she made casual and floated past it, sparing only a sidelong glance to its inhabitant...Uvogin? Medja almost immediately doubled back, placing a hand on the arched frame of the office. He was out of his armor again...interesting.

"Well, well! Good day, dear captain. You're so rarely here, I hadn't expected to find you in your office." Medja made her presence known but hung politely in the doorway. It didn't seem like she was interrupting anything, but she wanted to gauge the man's reaction.

 

[Halul]

Despite rarely using it, Uvogin found ample comfort in the small space allotted to him. If he so desired, the room could be used to address responsibilities aligned to his station, and of course, he rested there. He pinched the steaming cup of coffee by its dainty handle and raised it to his lips. Rare was the occasion that he found himself lounging within his quarters, however. Even rarer was it to have a visitor.

His head turned to the familiar voice. "Ah, Medja." As he set the cup back in its saucer, it clinked. "And do you oft come to my office? You may enter."

The balcony from his quarters overlooks the Gardens of Narmaka as well as the rest of Annuakat. It was, quite frankly, Uvogin's sole place of comfort. For possibly the first time in his life, the former mercenary had a place he could call home.

 

[Medja]

do you oft come to my office?

"Not personally, no," She chimed, tapping a thoughtful finger on her chin. "But I like to keep track of things around here. A good intelligence agent should, after all."

The courtier drifted casually into the room at Uvogin's behest. She eyed the fragile cup as the soldier drank his brew. Such a delicate thing for such a brutal warrior, it was almost humorous to see him drinking so politely. Medja proceeded past him and rested her elbows on the balcony, touching down on the floor with the tips of her toes. She drank in the view of the gardens, letting out a little sigh. It wasn't her preferred lookout by any means, but it was peaceful and she understood the charm behind it.

"What a lovely view. I can see why, of all the rooms in this place, you chose this one." Medja hadn't particularly realized nor intended it, but the way she had postured herself on the balcony railing was perhaps somewhat provocative. Her back was at a perfect arch, ample hind quarters formed and toned by many years of dancing positioned quite close to the Immortal captain's head.

 

[Halul]

"But I like to keep track of things around here. A good intelligence agent should, after all."

"Of course," he watched as the woman floated through the room. It was always a curious thing, to see Medja so gracefully suspended in the air. Uvogin lifted the cup from its saucer as he watched her to the balcony. He looked up at her from where he sat, though his eyes quickly traveled down her back and eventually traced the curve of her rear. The captain shallowly exhaled, though his expression didn't change. To say he hadn't eyed her figure before would be a complete lie, though this was possibly the first time he'd been so close to the woman, especially this part of her.

Without breaking his focus on Medja's fine derriere, the captain took a quiet sip from his cup.

 

[Medja]

The captain was as taciturn as ever. The courtier often wished that she could bring out some sort of reaction more expressive than the odd monotone affirmation from time to time, but such was to be expected by now. A half sigh and a quiet slurping noise was hardly a suitable re--
Well, hello, what have we here?

She had only just caught it out of the corner of her eye, but it seemed that Uvogin was actually ogling her in his own phlegmatic way. The courtier cast a sideways glance down at the Immortal and gave him a half-cocked smirk.

"Enjoying the 'lovely view' yourself, hmm, Captain?" She poked at the man. Teasing someone so single minded in his dedication to work was a treat. Of course, it would be even more of a treat if she could actually goad some sort of feedback from him. She decided to indulge herself, as well as the captain's apparent interest in her haunches, and gave a slow, subtle wiggle.

 

[Halul]

Uvogin was far from a prideful man. Aware of his strengths? Yes. Confident in himself? Of course. Despite that, he held pride in his equanimity that has seen him through several life-threatening situations. While the courtier’s presence was, at least ostensibly, far from life-threatening, she always managed to test the limits of his composure.

The captain put up a valiant effort to maintain his stoicism, but that same steadfast composure Uvogin was so proud of suddenly became very fragile from merely a playful smile and swaying hips.

Without breaking his demeanor, Uvogin’s eyes tracked the slow, subtle movements that Medja teased him with before he pointedly glanced up at her fox-like expression.

The Immortal’s face, despite being as stoic as ever, was slightly flushed.

“Yes,” his dulcet monotone hummed into the cup. Uvogin took a small sip and returned the cup to its saucer. “You are preferable to the Gardens.”

 

[Medja]

It seemed the good captain was capable of having preferences, however subdued his reaction was. She had only intended to play with the man, but the muted blush he was displaying, as well as the ever-so-polite compliment he paid her was just too difficult to pass up on. She wondered to herself if she'd be able to push him past the breaking point of his own self restraint. She giggled politely, covering her mouth with a bandaged hand.

"So proper! You flatter me, Captain. But you know..." She turned to face him, feet still touching the palace floor. She placed one hand on her jaw, the other on a thigh, and smiled down at the Immortal "...you don't always have to be so...proper..."

She moved no further, waiting to see what sort of response she could give rise to. Nothing had been quite so entertaining to her in a very long time. Just how far would the good captain's manners go?