Lion Head Mesa [sc] eighty-second

@Machiavelli -- i know we already have one so this is optional/at ur leisure!

the crowd fell into thronging, back to the palace, here and there.

senmut did not know when he had separated from nazli's arms; he did not know where he had gone, only that he felt sudden Ra hot upon his spine, his arms, and realized he sat atop the mesa, limbs raised to the glowing golden air.

here was where priests came to be reborn, this vast stretch of stone where royal flesh — and that less royal — had been mummified in the heat.

the pink drink swirled in his veins, eddying pools of unbidden light and whorls of shadow before his seeing eyes, transforming the world below akashingo into only pulsing hills of red, yawning earth.

where Ra walked. senmut felt lightheaded, giddy; he laughed aloud, his tongue wanting water but his heart desiring only to fall into the gilded center of the very sun.

I would never deny a thread between these two! <3 100th post too yippee

From his vantage point overseeing the party, Machi had noticed one particularly auburn figure stumbling away from the crowd, wandering towards who knew where. The pale man had learned one golden rule in life: nothing good ever happened when inebriated souls wandered off alone, especially in the vicinity of precarious heights. With a resigned sigh and a muttered prayer to the gods of common sense, he grabbed his drink and set off after the scribe-turned-prince.

He navigated through the pack like a determined serpent, weaving around merrymakers and sparing a few choice, rather colorful curses to anyone who dared impede his progress.

Breathless and perspiring by the time he reached the mesa's summit, Machi couldn't help but wonder if the priest had miraculously levitated his way up, or he had lost him somewhere along the way, but Senmut's boisterous laughter echoed down, confirming that he had indeed scaled the heights and somehow remained intact.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Machiavelli hoisted himself over the final ledge. There, he found the priest, and with a sigh of relief, he cleared his throat, calling out softly to avoid startling him and causing an inadvertent somersault over the edge.

He padded to the priest's side with an impish grin, There you are, my prince! He exclaimed, greeting him warmly, mischief flickering behind his glitter-dusted eyes. I caught sight of you sneaking off earlier with a lovely lady. Quite the charmer, aren't you? I trust you had an utterly smashing time? His innocent facade quickly dissolved as he continued, Or perhaps my assumption is misguided, and the two of you absconded for a, hmm... I don't know... a very long, hard conversation? Unable to contain his amusement, he erupted into a fit of boyish giggles.


Oh, but dear me, I shouldn't tease you when you look so pitiful, Machi sighed, wiping an eye with his paw. Partying isn't quite your forte, is it, my darling little bookworm? With a chuckle, he extended his drink towards Senmut. Here, take a sip of this—hydration is the key to surviving wild nights like these. It's water, I promise.

i adore them sm! & ee congrats!

laughter; the rich spill of oil across velveteen cushion was its sound. "machiavelli." as if he was beneath the waters of the serpent did he distantly hear himself, sense his mouth floundering for each gilt syllable in the name of that prescient man.

water.

there were shapes upon the surface, shadows. reflections mingling, rushing into watercolor paint that turned the inside of his throat into a kaleidoscope. had a drink ever been so deep? so sweet? had he truly experienced water before that moment, or had his time with it before been some illusion of taste? "when the serpent rises, i wonder if Hapi feels his thirst as fully slaked as mine is now," the addled priest murmured, stretching the hard build of his peasant's body in luxury beneath the sun, turning his chest to the eye of Ra with a gasp of ectasy.

Min was still in him, that sly lewd god, turning the prince's scarlet head upon his crimson neck so that the dilated pupils might fill themselves more fully with machiavelli's beauty.

and for some indiscernable time, senmut only gazed with the intent focus of a scribe committing to memory inkspill and papyrus, knowing it must be destroyed before the message was carried. a memorization; the teasing mouth, the soft paling of the eyes with their knowing fire, the slender set of sculpted head upon poured-cream throat.

warm air soared from his nostrils, mirth assailing him. "i have to travel tomorrow. i will not be ready," the priest moaned in self-deprecation, turning back to Ra's hot stare and the play of sundance down his taut belly. for a time he was silent beneath the glare, eyes closed.

"i want you to accompany me. zaahira will come as well, and legend. a small entourage. we are to go and — look at soldiers. i am to discover potential beauty which might be used to the aim of akashingo. perhaps we will part ways, i do not know." he was out of sorts, attempting to draw solace and quietude from the very sun even as the effects of the drink began to rise once more in him, provoking another soft gasp of wonder and rolling gut. "that is not for me to decide. i am only a reed, to be plucked and sharpened and shaped into a tool my pharaoh might use."

senmut's voice held no ire at this, nor bitter resignation. a mingling of wonder and adoration patinaed his voice, a sense of rightness lancing sweetly though him as he spoke aloud to machiavelli's listening presence.

Thank you!! <3

His name bubbled from the prince's mouth like champagne, eliciting a blush that spread across the fellahin's pale visage like wildfire. With a swift motion, he smoothed his fur, endeavoring to compose himself before responding. Now, now, none of that. Machi will do just fine, he managed, his tone a delicate balance between formality and familiarity. With a graceful gesture, he invited himself to stretch out onto his back beside the nobleman.

It was the next time that he turned toward the scarlet man with listening ears that he found himself ensnared by emerald eyes already fixed upon him, gazing with pupils like discs. Allowing the moment to linger, he greeted the prince's stare with a quirk of his head.

Highness, if you keep staring so intently, I might begin to think that you've seen something you like, he leaned forward, his voice a sinful purr against the man's ear, and that might lead me to think all sorts of wicked things about your most holy self. With a playful smirk, he held the man's gaze for a beat before withdrawing, bursting once more into a peal of laughter. Forgive my jest, He chuckled, dismissing the moment with a casual wave of his paw. I would not dream of coming between you and your beloved, Machiavelli continued, confident that he could indulge in such boldness as the prince would likely not recall their exchange by the morrow.

You are certain to have an interesting trip if you don't find something more to drink soon, he remarked with a soft snort, his demeanor transitioning seamlessly from flirtation to concern. But fret not, my dear friend, for I am here to assist. There is scarcely an intoxicant I have not encountered and mastered, he declared matter-of-factly. You would be astonished by some of the concoctions I have sampled. Typically, settling the stomach is a prudent starting point, if you take my meaning.

However, it was the priest's ensuing proposition that caught him off guard. Propping himself up on his elbow, Machiavelli regarded Senmut with wide eyes. Are you certain? I would be honored, though I fear my usefulness may pale in comparison to another's more specialized skills, he admitted, Nevertheless, I do possess a discerning eye for beauty, if I do say so myself. Where might our destination be?

<3

"i enjoy looking at you."

the sun ran sensual trailings from chest to groin; he felt the warmth of the potion curling in his paws, his feet; running his arms; he felt the tingle of starlight in his lips and felt Ra descending slowly through an opened point at the very apex of his skull.

"the gods are between us, machi," senmut whispered to the stretch of glorious and open blue sky, "between she and i. they brought us together over and again. the gods are reborn in us today, in she and in i — i feel the divine thread between us, but i fear —" — pausing, stilling, an inhale as a tear traced its way backward along one sand-red cheek "— that tomorrow it will be broken and all will be as it was."

but when senmut lay back again with the momentary tension relinquished from himself, it was with a serene expression, his eyes vivid with acceptance as he considered, for the first time, that a marriage for himself and nazli might never be.

it felt as if a scythe had descended across his spirit, and he closed his expression once more against the sensation, allowing it to spiral through all parts of him until it was gone, muted.

"i am certain. we have several destinations. brecheliant is first, and then scouts say farther along from akashingo there is more movement in the herds. we shall see what stirs them. over then to the sunspire, and then into the valley of the rising sun."

amusement, tugging; "we may camp rather roughly, machi. i do not intend to bring many supplies or a large entourage. we must be quick as diplomatically possible in each destination."

a soft laugh; "you know, i am aware of what went into this drink. and yet its hold upon me is some marvel i did not anticipate."

Well, naturally, the man scoffed, striking a pose with a paw placed haughtily over his chest. I invest considerable effort into my appearance, you know. It would be rather disheartening if you failed to notice.

Another flirtatious rebuttal was forming on his lips when Senmut spoke again, quieting the words before they fell from his mouth. He watched with a pang as the tear carved its path across the soft fur—understanding settling upon him finally. Ah, I see, he responded softly, looking away from the man and out upon the clouds drifting lazily over the mesa. If the gods have brought you back together before, then perhaps they will again. And if not, there is still your own choice in the matter, Machi continued, thoughtfully. Is it, he paused, marriage... that the two of you seek?

They sound like very beautiful places indeed, the man mused, laying on his back once more. Ha! Camp roughly? I will bring my own supplies then, the rest of you can camp like ruffians, he exclaimed with another shake of his paw. Although, should you tire of such primitive accommodations, I may deign to show you some sympathy and share a bit of my luxuries, the man quipped languidly, eyes closed as he fluffed the umber fur about his neck.

I can tell, darling, Machi teased affectionately. That is why I'm graciously refraining from taking you too seriously, he added with a wink. Then because he had momentarily forgotten the disparity in their stations, the fellahin hastened to correct himself, I do not mean impertinence, of course, Highness, only respect on behalf of your lover.

"priests do not marry. priestesses do not marry. and they certainly do not wed one another," senmut said with no perversity of rage now shone in his eyes. his teeth flashed in a silent laugh to think of machi laid upon velveteen skins while he, erpa-ha and high priest, camped in the earth of the fields, lay down among the grass and the stars and the ants.

it was not altogether an unpleasant image, one that tugged at his mouth with no small wave of imagery bursting across the sight of his very eye, his very mind. "i should not think i deserve such luxuries if i do not bring them myself. it will be good for me to slumber without comforts, i think. i have become very accustomed to them."

best to be laid bare, to commune.

"you will not insult her, nor me. i enjoy you, machi," senmut said with simple and plain pleasantry, for it was the drink but it was also his company, the heat of Ra, the resplendence of his flesh.

"i enjoy that you talk to me this way," the prince added with a flick of red brow and a scintillating grin, just before a faint sickness ghosted across his expression and he rolled to one shoulder in anticipation.

Sorry for the long wait and the shrimpy reply D: Hopefully the next one will be better

The man emitted a soft, contemplative hum, his stained-glass eyes tracing the delicate paths of the clouds. I see, he repeated simply, acknowledging the situation with a thoughtful air.

Haha! he exclaimed with a twinkle in his eye. That pleases me greatly, Highness! If I may be so bold, I daresay I rather "enjoy you" as well. It's a rare pleasure to find someone of your stature so approachable and agreeable to jest, Machiavelli complimented, his smile as light as a breeze on a summer's day. Pausing momentarily to consider, he added, In that case, perhaps it's for the best that you brave the company of all those creepy crawlies after all. The piebald figure clucked his tongue playfully. Who knows, you might become excessively fond of my wonderful cuddling and develop an attachment. Then whatever would we do? It would be positively a nightmare.

As he prepared to embellish his theatrics further, he noticed Senmut, and he rolled back onto his shoulder as well. Oh my, well, darling, you'll feel much better once you've got whatever was in that drink out of your system, he reassured, not bothering to hide his concern with another jest.

no worries at all! and they're never shrimpy! <3

"my stature! you forget i was lower than you, machiavelli!" but all in sweetened jest, honeywine upon a tongue pierced through by pleasure. "i could do worse with you as a nightmare," senmut admitted with a boldness of which he would not have evinced even a breath were it not for this drink.

senmut tried to laugh now, but was suddenly sick in the matting atop the mesa; he moaned and laughed, and the glittering in his blood seemed to fiercely rush, and then ebb.

he wiped his mouth; he lay back sheepishly and shut his eyes. 

"i am afraid i must ask you for water, machi, and for you to quit my presence. for your own good, of course, and nothing to do with my humiliation."

a faint smile touched mothwing amusement to those sallow lips. "thank you for remaining with me through my blabbering."

You might have been born lower, but now you are a prince, and I a servant. It seems our roles have been reversed, hmm? Machi stated, standing up and brushing the sand from his splotched fur. Although I would be lying if I said I didn't miss the luxury of nobility, and bossing others around, of course, he added, pausing as if considering whether to say more and ultimately choosing to hold his tongue.

His decision proved wise the next moment. He winced and turned away as Senmut relieved his stomach of the concoction. I think more water would be a splendid idea, Highness, but I beg you not to make me climb up the mesa again, he added with a playful plea, attempting to lighten the situation.

I would very much like to continue listening to your "blabber" as I escort you back to your chamber, he said gently, though concern added a stern edge to his words. If not for your sake, then for my own peace of mind. I cannot, in good conscience, leave you up here to bake in the sun, Machi continued, his tone softening with care. You've already had a long night, and I must see to your well-being, he continued with a gentle smile, offering the man his paw to help him stand. Please, darling, let's get you back to your room, alright?

darling.

his spine glowed with the pleasing sound of that; "yes," senmut managed, sitting up very slowly beneath the watchful eye of machiavelli. "i will — i want that. see to my well-being," he pretended to command, before an apologetic look flashed hot in his addled eyes.

steadily he would move, allowing the other to manuever him down the stone path which led back to the networking of rooms and apartments; he would sag against the wall here or there, ashamed in his declarations once more.

laid down in his fine robes, "stay a while," the dry lips asked, and then the prince of the red land found himself so insensate, charmed with the final images of machiavelli before exhaustion blotted him from the world for a time.

Thank you so much for this thread!

If the prince weren't in such a pitiful state, Machi might've taken offense at the sudden reminder of their stations after their conversation. However, the Red Priest's hasty apology melted away any tension, leaving only a teasing glimmer in the piebald man's eyes.

You're very bold to order me around now, he replied impishly, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. I might decide I want to do something about it.

With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Machi pranced ahead, leading Senmut through roundabout passages, steering clear of any wandering palace eyes that might prick at the prince's pride with their gossip.

Once the bookworm had been safely deposited into his room, unseen by prying eyes, the fellahin returned promptly, holding a cup of water as if it were something much more precious.

Here, he murmured, placing the cup within easy reach of the sumptuous bedfurs. With a graceful bow, he began to withdraw, but Senmut's voice halted him mid-step, setting his heart to pound furiously in his ears.

You want me to stay? Machi confirmed softly, returning to the prince and lowering himself onto the chilled stone floor, just far enough from the man to be called "respectful."

When Senmut finally awoke, the wolfdog would still be there, curled with his tail tucked over his nose, chest rising and falling in the peaceful rhythm of sleep.