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[chrisisofaith]

UN: ravens

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[chrisisofaith]

Well I appreciate no patronizing

But why in all the hells would I let you dunk me in the ocean?

[chuffle]

If I tell you, it will minimize the effects.

[chrisisofaith]

if it’s a cold think, I should warn you I live somewhere cold and on the ocean normally

Also I’m already on whatever eating schedule you’ve put Jon on, so sayeth my dom

[But he’s maybe putting his shoes on…out of curiosity, at least.]

[chuffle]

I'm from a hot place, it's not about the cold.

I'm glad you're eating. I've taken it upon myself to make some decisions for Jon.

[chrisisofaith]

I appreciate it

I usually watch that myself but I’ve

I haven’t been good enough

I’m glad he’s got someone else who will watch that for a bit at least

[It still twists wrong in him, but that’s not her fault or problem.]

I’m on my way

[chuffle]

[When he gets to her, she's sitting on a blanket on the beach. There's a little basket with some snacks - nothing homemade because she doesn't want to kill him. But there are some spicy snacks and some crisps.

She waves when he comes down the beach.]

Have a seat.

[She's wearing a caftan; nothing particularly revealing.]

[chrisisofaith]

[He flies to the beach dressed in his usual dark colors and leather jacket and walks the rest of the way to her, wings still out -if folded to his back- when he approaches.

He stops at the edge of the blanket and pulls on a small smile.]

Where’s my please?

[chuffle]

Oh, we're well beyond pleases, aren't we?

[She grins up at him.]

Are you allergic to gold, by the way?

[chrisisofaith]

[He huffs a laugh and moves to sit on the blanket with her as he passes a glance at the assorted snacks.]

I’m not and you’ve not answered my question yet. So why are you asking?

[chuffle]

Raven shifters back home are. Allergic to gold.

[She hands him a soda in a glass bottle, and then takes one for herself.]

Not that they like us much. Bird and cats, you know?

Did you love him? Martin?

[chrisisofaith]

Me and animals have never been on the right foot. Probably more a me thing.

[He takes the soda from her, at first, to be polite. They were too sweet to him, all of them cloying and thick…but when she asks that, he’s struck with the urge to drink it like a beer. He has a sip before answering.]

Yes. He was…comfort and home. [He smiles softly, his voice turning gentle as he looks down to the blanket.] He let me spoil him and sometimes he’d read me his poetry. I…

[Can’t make his mouth work and the moment of floundering for his words is swiftly covered with another sip from the sugary drink.]

[chuffle]

Aw, I like you well enough.

[She nudges him, and she presses her nose against his shoulder, in a gesture that's a little sweet. She's doing this on purpose.]

Was his poetry good?

[She asks, not moving away.]

[chrisisofaith]

[His next sip is followed with a wince and he sets it aside as she lingers close. It sets that touch-reticent part of him a little on edge, but he’s had plenty of practice ignoring it for a time. Besides, this was light enough…it was fine.

He shakes his head.]

Not always, but it had heart. That’s all art needs.

[He glances at the spread and then her.]

…you’re not eating or drinking anything. What angle have you got, lovely?

[chuffle]

[She lifts her head and takes a long, pointed drink of her soda, and smiles a bit.]

This isn't an angle. I wouldn't drug you, I promise.

The only thing that I'm going to is rile you up, and then dunk you in the ocean.

[chrisisofaith]

Certainly hope not, I’m picky about all things that get in my head.

[But he is eased a bit more.]

Alright…out of curiosity for method and general respect, you have my attention.

Talking about my missing boyfriend isn’t like to rile me up, however.

[chuffle]

It's not an anger kind of rile up.

What are you going to miss most about him?

[chrisisofaith]

[He thinks on that a moment, a sigh making a quiet escape as he does.]

Bullying him into working on his poetry? Mmm...no...cooking with him. And trying to figure out baking with him. We weren't much good at it, but we had fun. Often bullied Jon into trying whatever we made, good or ill. I'd dance with him while we were waiting for the stove to do its work.

I'll miss the feeling of home. I know he wasn't soft or kindly inherent, but he was for me.

[chuffle]

[She takes a drink, and she nods a little.]

Not the sex?

[chrisisofaith]

[He shrugs a shoulder.]

Sure, but...look, I loved him, but I didn't fall for him for the sex. Plenty of people who want me to tie them up and I do. It mattered more to me I could provide that for him and his head than the intimacy of the act itself. Besides, sex and domination is what I'm good at, something I can provide for others, I don't expect or need it provided back in the same way.

[chuffle]

[She pauses a moment. She frowns a little, and okay, she's going to change topic.]

Chris.

Who takes care of you?

[chrisisofaith]

[Its his turn to pause and his brows press close together in his confusion.]

What do you mean? In what way? I’ve plenty of sex as I like, I assure you.

[chuffle]

[She raises her eyebrows.]

Being a dom to everyone isn't emotionally healthy. Trust me when I say I know that.

[She pokes him, gently, on the leg.]

Who is taking care of you? Not just sexually. Who is letting your turn off, once in a while?

[chrisisofaith]

[What escapes him is a scoff, humorless and dry, but he quickly waves it away.]

Sorry. I know you’re right, it’s just…I’m a king. Job’s not so different.

[He just traded one for the other, hadn't he? Especially now that he was working at the Crucible. Though, now wasn’t the time to examine that thought too closely.]

But to your question: Jon does, on occasion. I’m his bird. Though sometimes, it’s less structured than that; a head in a lap goes a long way.

[chuffle]

You can't pull that with me. I'm a queen. I know that life, too.

[She gives him a soft, gentle nudge, and her eyebrows come up.]

That's not enough. Jon can do a lot, I won't discount him. But you need someone who can take the weight off you.

[chrisisofaith]

[He nods and nudges back for that. Even field, then.]

I give him my signet ring and my holy symbol. He carries my weights for me for a time…and most importantly, he’s careful. To the point of being sweet and sometimes too cautious, I’ll grant, we’re not perfect, but he’d do anything not to hurt me while I’m vulnerable with him. And it helps in his confidence, which matters to me.

[He pauses and fiddles with the edge of the blanket.]

I can’t let go like that with nearly anyone, even ones I would trust with my safety in all other ways. I don’t know how.