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☼ sciel ☾ ([personal profile] searingbond) wrote2025-09-15 09:47 am
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attheendofthegame: (o11)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-09-20 12:52 am (UTC)(link)
[There's a grim comfort in the idea of an afterlife, but Lune can't bring herself to indulge in it. It's the here and now that matters to her, what she can do to stop the Paintress and save Lumière. She can't bring herself to pin any hope on a hypothetical.

She can't find comfort in the possibility of an afterlife, the way her new acquaintance seems to, but maybe she can offer some comfort in the here and now. Her hand strays a little closer, fingertips brushing against the other girl's. It's tentative, careful, lacking the strength and steadiness of the hand that was laid on her own shoulder, but no less sincere.]


My brother and sister. Sol and Stella. I don't think they expected our parents to come back once they left on their Expedition, so... they've already done their mourning.

[She knows they'd offer her a tight hug and probably an admonishment to take some time off, but it isn't they same for them. They've gone off and are living their lives while she's had to stay behind and continue the work. They can't really understand what it means for her to have confirmation that their parents aren't coming home.]

And Tristan. He was apprenticed to my parents, so we grew up together. He's a friend.

[Her easy tone makes it clear that there's nothing to read into the word 'friend.']

Have you got anybody else?
attheendofthegame: (oo9)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-09-20 09:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Lune, [she says by way of introduction. Her fingers tighten around Sciel's, and she even leans in to the hand that brushes against the side of her face. It does surprise her, momentarily, to be so openly flirted with, but she finds herself unexpectedly craving connection. And she likes people who can surprise her, the exhilarating jolt of the expected that warms her insides even more than the drink has.]

I came here wanting to be alone. I spend a lot of time alone, with my books. There's always so much work to do.

[She doesn't look at Sciel as she speaks, her eyes fixed on the city below them, her hair falling in a curtain between them. Always so much work, no time for friends, or lovers. Her free hand rests on her leg, the heel of her hand digging hard into her thigh, betraying her exhaustion and frustration and grief and the complex web of feelings she has surrounding her parents even as her face remains impassive.]

The first time I ever went on a date, neither of my parents said anything, but I could feel how disappointed they were that I was wasting time on a girl instead of my studies.

[She looks back to Sciel.]

Despite how... overbearing they could be, I wish they were still here. I don't know if I can do all of this without them. And I... I'm glad I don't have to be alone tonight, after all.
attheendofthegame: (o14)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-09-22 07:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[We've got time.

She's done the maths; who in Lumière hasn't? She knows that on this day in thirteen years, she's going to die. And she's got twelve years to prepare for the Expedition she plans on joining. Twelve years feels like a lifetime, and it feels like no time at all. She can practically hear her parents in her head, admonishing her for even considering the thing she's considering right now — it's a distraction, there is no time for distractions, the work is everything and she's the only one who can do it now – but Sciel is so warm and her smile is so bright, and, if Lune's honest with herself, it's lonely being her parents' daughter. Maybe, for tonight at least, she can make the time.

For Sciel, she wants to make the time.]


I thought you'd be fending off a whole host of suitors. [Sciel is warm, bright, kind. Just a short time with her, and Lune can already feel the tightness in her chest easing. And the more she looks at Sciel, the more details of her face she notices, and each of those details adds up to a prettier and prettier picture. She's genuinely surprised Sciel's single.] I could... offer you feedback, if you're worried your kissing is that bad.

[Forward, and oh so very vulnerable. Her eyes meet Sciel's, trying to gauge the other girl's response.]
Edited 2025-09-22 19:39 (UTC)
attheendofthegame: (o15)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-09-23 10:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[The warmth of the alcohol suddenly feels like a candle flame in comparison to the roaring inferno the unfurls in Lune's chest when Sciel leans towards her with her lips parted.]

Good. Feedback strengthens collaboration. And collaboration, [she says, teasingly echoing Sciel's earlier words,] is an important part of everything.

[When their lips meet, it's a neat kiss that Lune gives her, by the book, a little rigid and careful. Maybe she's the one that that needs feedback.

She raises her free hand to touch Sciel's cheek, and she can't tell which of them is burning hot.

She tries to count the seconds – isn't it funny, how time seems to slow down in moments like these? – but quickly becomes so lost in Sciel that the time ceases to matter. For as long as she's kissing her, Lune's thoughts are quiet. There are no parents, no legacy, no siblings, no Expeditions and no Paintress, no books or charts or records. Her grief for her parents feels distant, her fear of failing them even moreso. No wonder some people choose to spend the day of the Gommage in a lover's embrace rather than at the harbour.

When she finally pulls away, face flush and a little out of breath – she's done this before, but it's never felt quite so intense – she has no idea how much time has passed. She smiles, curious and searching, as her gaze flicks from Sciel's lips up to her eyes.]


It's a good technique. [Enthusiastic, anyway. Whether it's technically good or not, Lune isn't in much of a position to judge. All she knows is she liked it. And she'd like to keep kissing Sciel, if Sciel would like the same.] But a little sloppy. You could use more practise.
attheendofthegame: (oo6)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-09-25 12:15 am (UTC)(link)
[As blazing hot as Lune feels, she finds herself wanting more. More affection, more closeness, more heat. It's as though a dam is cracking inside of her, freeing desires she's been unknowingly holding at bay, and every kiss, every touch, every time Sciel smiles, only makes the dam's breaking more inevitable.

As their lips meet again, Lune shifts in an effort to pull Sciel closer. It's an awkward sort of attempt to realign their bodies, but in the moment the awkwardness doesn't matter as long as she can feel Sciel against her. She notes the strength in Sciel's hands, the callouses on her fingers; Lune's hands, by contrast, are quick, lithe, agile, the hands of someone who works with pens and fine tools and guitar strings. One hand dances across Sciel's cheek, down the side of her throat, feeling the pulse there, around the back of her head and finally slipping through her hair, while the other settling on her waist, thumb stroking along the hem of Sciel's shirt in the hopes of finding the warmth of bare skin.

Finally, Lune pulls away again. It's unfortunate, but she needs to breathe.]


Practise does make perfect. [The smile on her face is positively goofy.

Her hand leaves Sciel's hair to brush down the side of her throat again, until her palm comes to rest on Sciel's upper chest, her fingertips lightly touching the pulse point in her throat. Lune can't help but marvel at the pounding of Sciel's heart, echoed by her own heart straining against her ribs.]


You're beautiful. [It's meant as an observation more than a compliment. Just a scientist noting objective reality.]
attheendofthegame: (o11)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-09-25 08:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[In another life, maybe Lune could spend years memorising the placement of every freckle and the exact shade of green of Sciel's eyes. In another life, they would have forty, fifty, sixty years to get to know one another, to decide whether this would be a casual fling born of mutual grief or the start of a lifelong romance.

In another life...

In this life, they have this, tonight, and when Sciel laughs another crack in the dam inside her forms, wider than the rest. God, she wants...]


Hang on. I've been practising something of my own.

[She scooches out from under Sciel and moves a few feet away so she's got room to hold out her hand and summon a blanket from pictos. It appears out of sparkles of golden light, laid out on the floor, heavy and soft and long enough for them to lay down on.]

There. That'll be more comfortable.

[She sheds her jacket without fanfare. It doesn't even occur to her to be seductive about it; she just wants the thing off. And then she holds her hand out to Sciel as she sits on the blanket, hoping to pull the other girl back into her lap before guiding Sciel's hand to the buttons of her shirt.]
attheendofthegame: (oo9)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-09-27 03:01 am (UTC)(link)
[Patience is important to every scientific discipline. A rushed experiment is a botched experiment, a hastily drawn conclusion is much more likely to be wrong. Lune imagines it's the same in farming; the seeds planted in spring can't be harvested til autumn, and there are months where you won't know whether your hard work will grow into something worthwhile or wither in the field. Right now, she feels right in the middle of one of those months, desperately waiting for something that she knows requires time to grow.

She waits patiently while Sciel unbuttons her shirt and slips it off, revealing the intricate gold lines of a tattoo curving over her shoulder and beginning to extend down her upper arm. She watches Sciel pull her own shirt off and toss it aside, revealing muscles rippling beneath sun-kissed skin. And she exerts a truly heroic amount of patience as Sciel's fingers start a tour of her body.]


I've been working on some elemental pictos. Starting fires, calling lightning, that sort of thing. It'll be useful, when I join an Expedition.

[Not something that feels particularly relevant just now. In this little pocket of time they've carved out for themselves, Sciel is the most important thing in the world.

Lune's hips twitch upwards of their own volition as Sciel settles fully into her lap, and she wraps an arm around Sciel's waist, hand sitting in the small of her back. All the heat in her is coiling tight and low in her belly, throbbing between her legs, and Sciel's light touch is nowhere near enough to sate her. She's only got so much patience.

She slips her other hand between them, brushing her fingers over Sciel's abs before dipping, with a curious, exploratory touch, beneath her waistband.]


Is this alright?
attheendofthegame: (o15)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-09-30 04:10 am (UTC)(link)
[Lune shrugs out of her bra, helping Sciel to get it off of her.

An affirmative mmmmhm is her only response to Sciel's question, though she also can't help a husky laugh at the joke about starting fires.]


We're both guilty of starting fires tonight, I'd say.

[She wants to ask whether Sciel plans on joining an Expedition too, whether she's got any interest in pictos, how useful she thinks chroma might be in farming, whether she—

Her breath hitches when Sciel's hand cups her breast, and she impulsively leans in for another kiss, trying to close whatever distance remains between them. One hand remains firm against Sciel's lower back. The other finally dips into Sciel's trousers, beneath her waistband and then stroking further down, finding her achingly wet.

That dam inside Lune finally breaks. There's so much she's been holding back, so much desire she's never allowed herself to indulge; even when her parents weren't chiding her aloud she could hear their voices in her head every time she so much as glanced at an attractive person in the street. There are more important things than relationships. Don't get distracted, Lune. You need to focus, Lune. You won't be able to concentrate on the work if your head is full of pretty girls. Perhaps her parents were right, because right now Lune's head is entirely full of one pretty girl in particular, so full that there's no room left for thoughts of anything else and all Lune can focus on is how badly she wants to lose herself in Sciel's arms. Maybe permanently.

In one quick, decisive motion, she attempts to roll them both over so Sciel will be on her back beneath her. Her hands settle on Sciel's belt, but she doesn't start undoing it just yet.]


I'd like to see all of you, too.
attheendofthegame: (o15)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-10-03 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Would it be terribly corny of me to say I'd rather make new memories than dwell on old ones?

[Lune's focus has narrowed in on one singular goal: get Sciel's clothes off as quickly and efficiently as possible. Shoes are discarded, followed by a hurried manoeuvring of Sciel's legs to pull her trousers and underwear off. Every new inch of exposed skin is a thrilling new location to chart, and Lune wants to explore it all. She can't stop smiling giddily at the prospect of so much to discover.

And finally, finally, Lune is kneeling over a fully naked Sciel, Sciel's legs bracketing her hips, gazing down at a woman she'd called beautiful earlier without being able to truly appreciate just how beautiful she is. The sight of Sciel beneath her steals her breath away, if only for a moment, leaving her – possibly for the first time in her life – speechless.

The tattoos catch her eye and pique her curiosity, momentarily distracting her from how very naked the woman underneath her is. There's so much she wants to ask, so much she wants to learn about Sciel. She starts to trace the tattoos, her fingers mapping the lines with precision, though Sciel's hands on her make it difficult to concentrate and her own hands are uncharacteristically unsteady.]


What do your tattoos mean? Are they pictos, or just body art? If they're pictos, what do they do? Do they help you with your work? [Lune struggles to imagine a reason for anything that isn't to do with work.]
attheendofthegame: (oo6)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-10-05 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
[Lune grins, delighted, and plucks the card from Sciel's hand. Of course it's The Lovers.]

I didn't know there was a lot of card play involved in farming. [Still struggling to wrap her mind around the concept of using pictos purely for fun.

Still smiling, she leans down for another kiss. It's amazing that she's found anything to smile about today, but every time her mind starts to drift back to the Gommage, her parents, the Paintress, Sciel is there with her bright eyes and infectious laugh, inviting Lune to lose herself entirely.

She does need to get her trousers off, but instead of doing anything about that, the hand on Sciel's chest starts to drift, finding Sciel's breast, cupping it, running a thumb in a slow circle over her nipple. Maybe she's inspired by Sciel's pictos, maybe she just wants to try something new with one of her own, she couldn't say; either way, she conjures a little cloud of ice crystals in the palm of her hand. It's only enough to tickle, really, not enough to freeze, but it stands in sharp contrast to the raging heat between them. She holds the ice over Sciel's breast, feeling her nipple stiffen as her other hand slips down to Sciel's thigh.]
attheendofthegame: (oo9)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-10-06 06:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[Lune groans against Sciel's lips she she feels the other woman's hand stroking over her trousers, her hips rocking of their own accord in search of more pressure, more friction, more everything, more...]

I'm not opposed. [Some detached little part of herself, the perpetual academic, can't help but observe how low and breathy her voice is, and how increasingly difficult it is for her to form words at all. Arousal is negatively correlated with cognitive function. Noted.] Quite the opposite.

[But she is opposed to stopping or moving away, and she has to do both to get her trousers off. It's with another groan – one of reluctance, this time – that she pulls away from Sciel and starts undoing her belt and trousers with precise, if hurried, motions. She stands in order to get the rest of her clothes all the way off, kicks her trousers and underwear off, and looks down at Sciel. Her heart is crashing into her ribs so hard she fears it might break them as she lands back on her knees between Sciel's legs.]

Here I am.

[She strokes along Sciel's inner thigh, feeling the tension in her muscles, marveling at the sheen of sweat glimmering on her skin. In the faint, diffuse light that shines from Lumière below and the stars above, she's practically glowing.]

All of me.

[As she leans down for another kiss, her fingertips find the searing heat between Sciel's legs, stroking once, twice, thrice in deft little circles around her clit.]

And all of you.
attheendofthegame: (o15)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-10-07 08:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[Lune withdraws from Sciel's lips just enough to laugh, her voice soft and husky. It's not the first time she's been compared to something in the sky – it's a natural comparison to make, given that her parents' one and only flight of fancy was to name all their children after celestial bodies – but it's the first time she's found the comparison genuinely flattering. Sciel is so sincere, her gaze so loving, how could Lune not be flattered?]

Now that is corny.

[And then she's kissing Sciel again, and she's not sure she ever wants to stop. When Sciel leans back, Lune leans forward, pressing one more kiss to the corner of her mouth with a soft moan, hips rocking insistently against Sciel's fingers. 'Incredible' is an understatement, at least as far as she herself feels. But she thinks she can make Sciel feel even better, if she experiments a little.

It's not easy, concentrating enough to use pictos while Sciel is strumming away so intently at her clit, and the ice cloud that Lune summons sputters a little as she trails it across Sciel's chest. She once again lets it linger over Sciel's breast, this time chasing it with her mouth, enjoying the feeling of chilled skin against her tongue and hoping Sciel will find the sharp contrast between cold and heat equally pleasurable. Her hand continues downward, over Sciel's stomach, her hip, her inner thigh, teasing the sensitive skin there.]


And that? [She runs her tongue in a tight circle around Sciel's nipple before pulling back. Her free hand is braced next to Sciel's head, holding her up so she can properly look at the woman stretched out beneath her.] How does that feel?
attheendofthegame: (o11)

[personal profile] attheendofthegame 2025-10-12 06:37 am (UTC)(link)
[The ideal thing to do, Lune thinks, would be to continue trailing kisses in the wake of her hand, continuing to follow cold with heat until she reaches the apex of Sciel's thighs and can put her mouth where, thus far, only her fingers have been. She wants to taste her, she wants to hear the sounds Sciel would make if Lune twirled her tongue around her clit, or pressed her tongue inside her. But then she feels Sciel's fingers on the verge of doing just that, and she reevaluates. Perhaps the correct course of action would be to stay right where she is. The ice sputters out, even the thought of Sciel's fingers inside her making it impossible to concentrate.

As she meets Sciel's eyes, Lune is once again struck by her beauty. Her eyes, sharp and quick and bright, that smile, her freckles...

Lune doesn't much believe in fate, or luck, or anything but cold, hard numbers and facts. But whatever it was that drew Sciel here tonight, she's grateful to it.]


You've already made me feel better than I thought possible tonight. [Better than she ever has, really.] But yes. Please.

[It's not a grant of permission as much as a plea. She adjusts her legs, allowing Sciel more space, while the heel of her hand begins kneading, digging into the muscle of Sciel's thigh.]

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