RP:A Touch Romantic

Summary: Muzo makes a trip to Alithrya to visit Reginae, as she prepares for a council meeting among the older nagas.

Extravagant Water Gardens

Muzo slithers back from the street vendor, two fresh kebabs in hand. He tries to hurry without looking in a rush. Surely, he isn't late, is he? Muzo knows he ought to have waited, but the smell of savory, sizzling salamander steaks was simply irresistible, touching upon a timeless sense of nostalgia. Some things in Alithrya haven't been, could never be, changed. It was an impulse buy and one he did not yet regret. Eyes sweep the garden. He's got two fat kebabs in hand and doesn't plan on eating both himself. Did he beat her here? Muzo's dressed, again, in his nicest robes, and if one didn't know better, they might say his scales bear a fresh layer of polish.

Reginae had arrived the day before, Pilar in tow, for some meeting she’d tried to organize with some of remaining citizens. She’d wished for something more productive, but in the end it was older nagas complaining about some foot traffic from humans and Vampires recently. And by foot traffic, they meant they saw Pilar twice in the past couple months. It’s a national crisis, clearly. In the madness of her return, she had nearly forgotten that she had plans. It wasn’t until Yozenra woke her up. “There’s a stranger in the gardens,’ The black scaled naga with purple dreadlocks stated, plainly while Reginae panicked herself into her robes. When Reginae finally reaches the gardens, her hair is a bit of a mess still. She’s combing her lithe digits through it, trying to flatten it into a tamed status when she sees Muzo and heads in his direction. “G-good morning!” It was nearly noon. “I see you found the way without trouble!” Of course he did, he knew this place like the bad of his hand, right? “Oh! What’s this? Salamander steaks?”

Muzo perks at the sound of Reginae's greeting, and he turns to spot her slithering his way. "Morning," he echoes back, "had no trouble. Hope I'm not running behind. Discovered myself a patron of the local culinary arts." His hand stutters as it starts, stops, then follows through, offering Reginae one of the two kebabs. "Salamander, yes. Hadn't had one in years. Grabbed them on a whim. Occurs to me, only now, that you might have eaten already. Have you?" He's babbling a mile a minute, as usual, and has to clear his throat, a little speed bump as he tries to pace his conversation more leisurely. "Have you been well?"

Reginae tries to reach out to take one, but her hand is still tangled in her hair. Oops. “Ugh, sorry!” She smiles, freeing her fingers and receiving the kebab with a grin. “Oh no, I haven’t eaten. It’s been a busy morning, I’d almost forgotten to. It’s very sweet of you to….welll...um, T-thanks! Would you like to sit? Please…” Her free hand gestures towards the rim of pond, flush with the ground to allow any manner of naga to clean their scales after traveling to the Palace. Not that Muzo needed to, she noticed, nibbling on the corners of her kebab, trying not to get caught staring at the sheen of his tail. “I’ve been well! We had a small meeting yesterday. Seems some of the elder nagas aren’t fond of other races nosing about. I brought Pilar back from Larket, she seems to be...struggling with some of the new King and Queen’s decisions...Hmm…” Reginae is lost in thought on this topic, uncoiling herself into the pond without thinking much about it. Most of her hair has settled, minus a small batch of fly away strands against her cheek. She’s wearing the same robes she’d been in when last he saw her; no patches or dirt. “But business can always wait until later.” A laugh, because they could surely talk about something else right? “Have you been well? I hope you aren’t overworking yourself.”

Muzo settles down, likewise, at the pond's edge and peers in, studying the clear, bright water before a wave of ripples pulls eyes over to Reginae's tail and, likewise, he must reel in his gaze lest he be caught looking. "Thank you," now that she's taken her first bites, Muzo follows suit, sliding off a whole cube of meat from one end and gulping it down. "Pilar," Muzo struggles to recall if he's met her. "One of Artia's associates? Quiet type? No," he chuckles and shakes his head, grinning, "elders wouldn't like that at all. Would be careful," another gulp as he tosses down a knot of marinated kelp, "bringing visitors." Thoughtfully, he chews, and a sort of darkness passes behind his expression. "Hmm," with a little brisk shake of his head, he goes on, "working, yes, for Larket. Been assigned several projects. Seem to be something of a royal physician." The thought makes him smirk, and he throws Reginae an amused glance.

Reginae is chewing thoughtfully when Muzo announces this title. Her eyes widen, impressive! “Royal physician!” She says, trying to beat back that undercurrent she’d felt before. If only she’d been more aggressive in her pursuit, that Muzo might be working with her instead. Though...Royal Alithryian Physician...might be too personal a position. Her face flushes, trying to discard her line of thinking. “You must be so excited! That’s a big honor, especially since we aren’t even humans.” A laugh. That’s like being promoted to teach a language that isn’t your first. A solid recognition of your abilities. “What’s the oddest thing about Humans, do you think?” Her first guess would have to be their mentality. Sometimes, she thinks they have a pack mentality and want to group together, other times she finds that they only quarrel in groups, and might be better off on their own. But she’s no doctor, certainly.

Muzo spots Reginae's flush, and though he cannot guess her precise reasons, he feels his attention drawn bashfully downward. He dips the tip of his tail into the pool and swishes the water idly, watching the surface distort and glisten. "Grateful, yes, thank you. Was rather surprised myself. What's that?" Muzo's gaze snaps back up. "Humans? Oh." The naga straightens looking up to the cavernous ceiling overhead, eyes widening as he reels himself back from empirical objectivity and searches for what qualia might make a thing "odd" or not. "Ah, well, oh, longevity, or lack thereof," thoughtfully, still staring ahead, he taps the tip of his snout with the end of his kebab. "Would think human mortality should interfere with their civilization. To the contrary. Seems to be an extraordinary motivator. Rapid advances. Courage in the face of change. Always under death's whip. Peculiar niche, but," he shrugs slowly and looking back to his fellow naga, "see how well they fill it." A patronizing look suddenly fills his eyes, presumably pity for the short-lived, hard-driven humans. "Wrong of me? If I'm grateful not to have been handed their lot?"

Reginae watches the water as it ripples, happy to have a focal point. A neutral place to keep her eyes, even if it is his tail causing all the commotion. “Mortality...yes. It’s combated with resourcefulness, even. Infections or changes. They can endure a lot of detrimental conditions. Magics, vampirism...Even some poisons.” A nod of her humanoid chin. “Makes the most sense,” and then to his observation about not being blessed with that particular brand of existence, “I couldn’t agree more. Less than a hundred years of life? Hardly time to figure out the basic mechanics...better yet, the more advanced..theories.” She clears her throat, finishing her kabam with a satisfied smile. “I do miss the little things, when I’m gone…” Little things like salamanders, perhaps mice? Gross. “Oh well, Pilar is a great example. Use to be human, but contracted vampirism. Was an illusionist but suffered massive emotional and physical trauma. Healed, has a metal leg, and is working on finding her magic again. Very determined and passionate. We might take a few passages, from those pages...But! E-enough about work! Please tell me something...about you? That perhaps I don’t know?” The skewer sticks out of the ground, by the pond where she’d placed it. Wouldn’t do to leave things about the gardens. Her free digits weave together, under her chin while she pools her azurite gaze on Muzo’s face.

Muzo realizes, as Reginae stands her skewer in the ground, that he's been letting his own kebab get cold. He polishes off the last of it and, either by sleight of hand or legitimate magic, makes his own skewer disappear. "Would love to meet her," he earnestly offers while looking for something to wipe his hands on. Finding nothing, he contents himself to rinse them in the pool. "Hm? Myself?" Muzo's gut reaction is to hold back, but it only takes one glance into those cerulean blues to loosen his lips. "Spend a lot of time alone," he admits. "Don't mind simple things. Bare walls. Empty floors. I like it, but," he goes on, "sometimes have to pull away. Sit in the lobby at the Red Ogre. Or the Mage's Hall. Like to hear the sound of talk, the murmur. Can't make any of it out, too many voices," Muzo grins and looks to his hands, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve, "doesn't matter. Good sound. Happy sound. Nice to feel footsteps in the tile as they walk by. Sort of like soaking in the sun or going for a swim. An atmosphere, something to," the precise term eludes him, and his lips draw tight as he fishes for words.

Reginae watches Muzo sort through his phrasing, shifting closer so she might take one of his fidgeting hands and offer a word or two that might be of assistance. Her hands are chilled, by the water of the pool, if they find his. “Something to...hold on to?” It’s a common sensation she experienced too. “It’s pleasant to play the role of outsider, to slide through hallways or towns without being noticed. To exist in the space of narrow water flushed streets and cavernous shadows. Bare dirt, where other regions might have a plush carpeting of grass. Voices and motion were the heartbeats of the world. Even if we aren’t adding our own voices, it makes us feel connected. Alive. Significant, if only to recognize it’s splendor from the outside looking in.” She wouldn’t say it but naga were often outsiders in these places. Sometimes even in Alithrya. “That’s a beautiful sentiment.” She adds, taking her hand back, for fear she’d overstepped her bounds by reaching out to him without invitation.

Muzo watches Reginae's fingers brush over hers, but when she begins to pull away, his eyes flicker back up to her face, his glossy black gaze meeting her deep azurite. "Feel something very different when I'm with you," he elaborates, swallowing back his inhibition with a nervous gulp, "not like bare walls. Not like... rumbling murmurs. Something more discrete." Sensing, he's dangerously close to babbling, his face finally breaks into a self-conscious smile, and the tip of his tail slips through the water to briefly, subtly brush past hers, scales slipping lightly over scales in a way that could have been accidental but clearly isn't. "No poet, myself," he blurts, "clearly. Very glad to be here with you. Tell me something, then, about yourself." Muzo turns the corner, putting the ball in Reginae's court. "Something I might not know." His eyes linger on the pool, hoping, likewise, he hasn't overstepped.

Reginae’s pupils narrow when Muzo says he feels something discreet when they are together. Oh my. “I’m glad, too! Yes um..” Her fingers push against each other, pad to pad, as if counting off each thing she might say. It’s distracting, to say the least, to have his tail so casually close. Like their presence was normal, typical. The occupation of space routine. She stammers, looking less confidently into her hands for answers. “W-well you know, of course, snails are a great fascination of mine.” Once more, she clears her throat, to pave the way for additional comments. “And well I also really am fond of youandIalso…” Her words run together, she’s speaking quickly to cover up what she’s said. “I think maybe very intrigued by secrets.” She laughs, as if this was a joke. Unfortunately, it’s very true. “I feel awful to give you such an answer, after you’ve fleshed out beautiful explanation of existing in spaces decorated and warmed by others but I have to be honest when I tell you that mysteries and secrets are something I find terribly fascinating. Everyone has these little, important secrets they keep tucked away. Sometimes no one else ever knows! They might die with these secrets and hope no one might ever uncover the truth...it’s magnificent. I find the idea a touch romantic, if I am...telling you a little secret of mine.”

Muzo isn't made to blush easily, but when Reginae admits her fondness, there's a visible tint of red beneath hazy translucence of his facial scales. Surely, she can't hear his heart beating from over there, can she? Muzo tells himself this, even though it *feels* like she could. "Secrets," he mutters after her, more dazedly than he may have intended. "Hidden tidbits in hard-to-reach places," Muzo nods encouragingly, urging her to go on. Games of clues, mysteries, and secrets are no stranger to the researcher, and his eyes light up with fond interest as she goes on. "Startling wonders hiding where you'd never expect," he elaborates with her. "Of a... touch?" The incongruity catches him off guard, Reginae might see it in the way his eyes widen. There's a moment where it looks like he could go on, continue verbally exploring her train of thought. Muzo chooses differently. Reaching out, he takes her hand in his, much as she'd reached out a moment ago and, wrapping his fingers tenderly around hers, leans in to brush his sleek ophidian snout across her cheek, his eyes falling half-lidded as he does so. The breath stills in his lungs, surprised by his own courage, but he doesn't back down. Rather, his body glides closer. Muzo clutches his courage tight and repeats the gesture, a simple touch of scale to skin, lips to cheek, sweetly, cautiously daring to test the shallows.

Reginae thinks perhaps she picks her phrase incorrectly. What she meant was the idea of secrets was appealing and romantic in it’s own right. Now, she’s not really in a position to clarify this error, because Muzo has rather bravely placed himself so undeniably close that she’s frozen solid. Her fingers are lost in his hands, his snout against her cheek expelling flaming heat. Muzo, the dragon naga! It’s impulse to turn away, blush and excuse herself from the closeness but, could it be that he’s plucked upon her heartstrings a snake charmer’s melody? Lured her to unfreeze, tilt her posture just so, and catch his lips with her own. Her lids flutter, like drunken butterflies, casting herself headlong down alongside her companion. A secret, a kiss in the garden pools. A sweetness they might keep, together.

Muzo feels the kiss connect, shooting straight to the tip of his tail like an electrified circuit, the whole of him seeming to float midair until, after who knows how long, the cogs begin slowly clicking again and his lips slowly, reluctantly break the kiss. Opening his eyes (he hadn't realized he'd closed them), Muzo searches out Reginae's gaze, hoping to meet it, wondering if he'll see the same inebriated bliss reflecting back at him. It's a chemical reaction. It's a natural response. It's an instinct. Cold reason struggles against the profundity of the moment, and he gradually remembers where he is. Right, in a public garden. Muzo sighs contently, releasing the breath he'd been holding. Silently cursing his rationality for pulling him back to reality, he gives Reginae's hand a gentle squeeze. "Carried away by the moment," he quietly, admits. The researcher steals a glance toward the palace, wondering if gossips could have spotted them. "Hope I haven't been too forward." The blush beneath his scales is doubly apparent.

Reginae is likewise awash in a weightless pool of water, lit with overly fragrant flowers when Muzo so boldly punctuates their conversation with this kiss. Their tails, still underwater in the grounded reality, are close enough that Muzo might feel the tip of her scales overlapping his during the exchange. A grounding, if you will, for the chaotic radiation unleashed by such contact. As he draws away, she opens her eyes to still find him quite close. Not so close as to encourage rumors but...if anyone was gualking, it was much too late to unseen what happened. It’s all there, swirling in those oceanic blue eyes. She felt it to; the surge of chemicals, the fluster of her heart, snout to the tip of her scaled tail. Her high pitched breathless laughter follows his statement, clearly embarrassed she sets out to reassure him. “No I...would say you have been just forward enough, actually.” Her own cheeks mirror his; a grand pink tint, to be seen from miles away. “P-please say you’ll stay for dinner, you’ve come all this way and I would...like if we could talk a bit more…” It’s amazing how these little nuances unfold.