ॐ 2

[princeofwhores]

[His Highness and supreme ruler of Tel Maran, crown prince of the Dal'Anor Empire; the Emerald Prince himself is looking.... rather terrible.

In fact, he's not been seen for quite some time, and when he's finally stepping out of his room, he looks a lot thinner. The prince appears sickly and tried, and he walks like he's in his own world, taking a break once before the stairs to catch his breath.

So how about them curses? They tend to suck.]

Comments

[heresyandlace]

[it does sound like a skeezy excuse, and it gets a smirk out of her as she takes her hand back]

Ah, so that's how it works.

[princeofwhores]

...it is a strange curse. None of our medics, scholars or sorcerers have managed to find a solution.

[heresyandlace]

How convenient.

[yeah, she's thinking this might be a ploy for sympathy sex. she's seen worse.]

[princeofwhores]

It is not what you think.

[...and he's very much not hitting on her or being his lovely suave and cheerful self.]

[heresyandlace]

[after seeing centuries of ploys come and go, she's just a little bit untrusting]

I don't know about that.

[princeofwhores]

Are we asking you to assist us? We are not.

[He sighs and then bows his head a bit before trying to keep walking.

...apparently his curse didn't like that. Hold on, collapsing future emperor!]

[heresyandlace]

[and just as she's narrowing her eyes, starting to doubt, he's suddenly not looking so great.

well, if this is a ploy, it's a damn good one.

it's an automatic reflex to dart over and steady him--she's more than strong enough for it]

--Maybe I should anyway.

[princeofwhores]

[He coughs up some black, blood-thick liquid and slumps against her. This was more than a little embarrassing.]

...we are not o-our best at the moment. It would be a waste to f-feel the arms of a dark goddess w-when we cannot perform.

[heresyandlace]

[which happens to suit her just fine at the moment, since he's human and all. She won't have to worry about making excuses.

And... ugh. She can't help but grimace at what looks like black blood, it being familiar for all the wrong reasons]

Believe me, I've seen worse.

[and then, trying to ignore the fact that some of it is getting on her clothes--that stuff stains--she holds him close for a minute. It probably seems comforting, arms wrapped around him and eyes quietly closed, but she's really only taking a moment to concentrate. Feeling, sensing, almost listening to whatever malady it is that hounds him. She wants to taste the nature of it, whether it's more like a poison or a plague, how exactly it's ravaging his system.

...Not that she can actually do anything about it. She can really only make these kinds of things worse or temporarily stall their progression. She's just curious.]

[princeofwhores]

[This... was nice. He was too tired and in pain to move, so the hug felt refreshing. (...yes, the cleavage helped too.)]

You... are an angel.

[Majid's breathing is slightly ragged and his emerald hair is a mess, but it is his insides that are in the worst shape. His heart is black, the healthy tissue replaced with a spreading, agonizing darkness. It has made its way out into his lungs and spreads through his body with every beat of his heart.

It is like a violent, quick-growing cancer infused with dark magic and hatred.]

[heresyandlace]

Goodness...

[...goodness. She's almost tempted to try pulling at it, accelerating the corrosion and death just to put the poor thing out of his misery. But, truth be told, she really isn't that kindhearted. And, he really is too pretty to die--it would be a complete shame.]

Is this curse meant to kill you? [she pets his hair a little, straightening it] What can you do when it gets this bad?

[princeofwhores]

[He sighs, wiping his mouth with a disgusted look. The pain didn't seem as agonizing when close to her like this, though.... but he was most likely just fooling himself.]

We are said to die on our 25th year. That is unless we find someone who truly loves us.

[Fairytaaaaale.]

[heresyandlace]

[a sad little 'tsk']

It really is a hopeless curse then, isn't it?

[probably not the right thing to say to someone, but...]

[princeofwhores]

Yes.

[Someone doesn't believe in true love, so he surrounds himself and thrives on physical love.]

[heresyandlace]

[well... that makes two of them. how sad.]

...Where were you trying to go? [glancing down the stairs]

[princeofwhores]

...we were on our way to the kitchen.

[So hungry in the middle of all the pain.]

[heresyandlace]

Ah, let's go then.

[he gets a smile, and she moves to the side so that he's one arm leaning well around her shoulders. She's got you, dear prince]

[princeofwhores]

[He appreciates that, ma'am. A lot, actually, since it makes it possible for him to keep some of that already bruised pride.]

You are kind to us.

[heresyandlace]

[she's much stronger than she looks, but she'll let him support as much of his own weight as he wants to, and generally acts as if she just happens to have her arm around him as they're walking]

I think you've bought a little kindness for all that flattery.

[princeofwhores]

[Oh Tek, you're a pridesaver.]

Flattery? My lady... nnn... all I have said is the truth. We only praise your beauty and cleverness.

[heresyandlace]

See? Just like that.

Keep that up and I just might make you lunch.

[or... more like find lunch and bring it over, since actual cooking is not exactly one of her strong points]

[princeofwhores]

[He smiles through the pain, covering his mouth for a moment.]

We would be eternally grateful, desert moon.

[heresyandlace]

[once they're approaching the kitchen--] What would you like, if I can find it? [--and subsequently warm it up for him, at most]

[princeofwhores]

Anything touched by your hands would be lovely.

[He's still a mess of cold sweat and pain, but can he stop his flirting? Nope.]

[heresyandlace]

[and oh, how she appreciates it. It puts her in a generous mood.]

Don't say that, because then you'll end up with a bowl of cereal and you'll be sorry.