Ocean's Breath Plateau the feathered wings of jeweled gods
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#1
All Welcome 
for @Brook, whenever u have time!

honeygold eyes and flighty, delicate limbs. ramesses sought after the woman as he perused the various things to see within the plateau. idly he sought a den, but it was not the focus of his trek.
aditya had mentioned no wife, and this one had seemed many years younger. her scent was wound through that of the prophet, and ramesses began to sense a similarity to them.
eventually, he hoped he might come upon her and inquire after this himself.
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#2
Something made noise behind her, and Brook froze in her tracks. Her father was off doing important things, and she had been left to her own devices. She dreaded such times, but they were necessary. She knew he could not be beholden to her presence wherever he went. Brook knew she was a burden to him, even if Aditya insisted otherwise.

Slowly, the girl turned around, stiff and alert as the other approached. He was the one her father had been speaking to, apparently permitted to stay here on the plateau with them. She froze, unable to move. In the fight, flight, or freeze scheme of things, Brook's mind had chosen the latter.
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#3
it was not long before ramesses caught sight of the girl. she had turned to watch him, but it was the tension in her small figure halted the newest to aditya.
it seemed, almost, that she might flee him. with no intention of running himself into a ragged breath, the man chose not to move forward. instead his nostrils took in the taut aura. 
"the prophet, he is your father?" pharaoh crooned with a soft wave of his plume. the arrogant veil had not been put down, but ramesses had put it secondary to his untoward interest in this one.
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#4
He used a word she did not fully understand. Brook's throat was dry, and she swallowed, her tongue feeling like sand on tree bark. He did not come closer, or she might have finally gotten up the nerve to flee him as she had done before. Without her father at her side, it was hard to talk to anybody—even those meant to be her new pack mates. She had spent so much time with her father, and only her father, that anything else felt foreign and unwise.

Aditya is my father, she replied, her voice soft and perhaps not fully audible due to distance and the wind. Brook tried to focus on her breathing, the ground beneath her feet, the chirping of birds. Anything to help slow her heartbeat and calm her nerves.
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ramesses supposed he had known this, but to hear it said aloud, half-mouthed, half-heard, was a confirmation that was necessary. his posture shifted into something more attentive, though he still did not approach. she was a timid little bird, the man thought to himself. thus came to pass that pharaoh's interest surpassed basic camaraderie and became something else.
as son of seti he was given the things that he wished, without question. ramesses saw no reason why this should not continue now. she was the daughter of a warm windblown holy man, but even aditya, surely, wished grandchildren. what the girl's tension did not hide was helwa. 
"i am aditya's newest acolyte," pharaoh grinned slyly, allowing good humour to light the angles of his handsome face. "what might i call his daughter?"
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#6
Another title she did not know, this time assigned to the man whose name she did not know. He smiled, and while she could not guess whether it was genuine or otherwise, it seemed to put her somewhat at ease. Not the same ease that she found when she was with her father, but it was something more than she had been when she'd spotted this "acolyte" the first time. He asked for her name, and she bit her lip momentarily.

Brook Lakshmi, she said quietly, still ready to bolt at any sign of... well, whatever it was that made her want to flee situations. There were other names she had been given throughout her life, but those were the two that had stuck and she felt most attached to.

Do you h-have a name? she stuttered, instantly feeling shame and anger for her inability to talk to others. Why couldn't she just be normal?
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ramesses sat himself down elegantly in the path he had meant to travel. "brook." it lacked the rolling syllables with which he had been accustomed; it was a simple name. a humble name, one that reflected again the sort of man aditya was. pharaoh wondered if brook was meant to be a priestess to the sun. Hari, the prophet had called him.
her figure had not softened.
ramesses took a different tactic as the girl's words tripped over themselves.
"i am pharaoh," the man said proudly. his lapis gaze skimmed her goldspun accents. "you need have no fear of me."
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#8
My sister has a dog named Ramesses. <3

He was patient, and Brook recognized this on some subconscious level. Again, the slightest bit of ease made its way to her. It was not the same ease as she had with Aditya, but perhaps it could be with time and understanding. Brook was still felt a novice in the ways of the world, still learning for herself how it all worked and meshed.

He called himself Pharaoh. A pretty name, one she would have thought for a girl like herself. It was soft and sweet, and perhaps that meant that he was soft and sweet, too.

It is n-not fear, she said, her stutter apparent. What it was, she couldn’t say. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was lies that she spoke. But she wanted to appear strong. Appear normal.
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#9
a blessed canine indeed <3

not fear? "in my country we say a hot wind has hold of your tongue," pharaoh teased, hoping to provoke a blush. but then again, he thought it best if his words did not strike so well. brook still seemed a mere second from leaping into the air like an antelope and careering off across the deceptive land of the plateau, swallowed in moments.
he did not want that to happen, and so he thought more piously. the regal countenance followed suit. "your father has told me of your god, Hari. and i have told him of mine, Amun."
here the man paused, wanting to see if this struck any sort of lyre-string within the girl. white teeth suddenly flashed in a grin. "but in my country, you would serve a sun god in other ways. a dancer, perhaps."
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#10
If it was a blush he wished, it was a blush he received. Brook felt herself grow warm with his words, her eyes turning toward the ground and her feet twisting into the earth. She knew little of her father’s god, and she did not understand the concept completely. A god was faraway, and she scarcely had the capacity to deal with what was right in front of her. She did not know why Pharaoh told her this about his god and her father’s. Perhaps he thought she shared the same god as Aditya.

A dancer? she asked. She knew what dancing was, but she did not understand what he meant by it. Finding her place in the world had been difficult, so any lead on it was of interest to her.
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#11
pharaoh lifted a brow. "you do not know dancing." an observation, not a question. he rose to his paws, standing still a moment before he approached, not directly, but toward her left. keeping some distance between them, he described a series of steps, sidling gracefully. it would appear somewhere between a trot and a walk, something practiced and perhaps fascinating.
how long had it been only she and aditya? she was young but no young to know nothing of the world. and yet brook still remained veiled, wrapped in several layers of linen.
he wanted to unravel them, curiously enough.
"surely you know singing," once more, not a question, but this time pharaoh did not wait for an answer. 
"her scent is the sleepy languid lotus,
"her ankles are graceful as the legs of a doe;"
voice moving along the swallowed, slow pitches of his natal tongue. she would not know it, but ramesses did, and that was enough.
"her eyes are precious amber, and when she breathes, the wind becomes sweet."
"she has stolen my heart with her kisses. she has no rival."
softly singing, the sound dropping as pharaoh sought slowly to finally draw closer, though not so much as to frighten the flighty bird;
"i am blessed among all men."
a song penned by a lovestruck boy in his father's courtyard.
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#12
The way he moved was foreign and strange. It was walking but not for purpose. Not to get from here to there. She had known dancing, had seen it before, but not so practiced as the way he did it. Brook kept a wary eye on him still, not comfortable enough to let him closer. She remained guarded.

He sang, then. They were words she did not know, but the melody was sweet. She smiled, but she did not draw closer to him. He could dance, he could sing, and these were nice things… and yet, she still found herself pulling away. Wishing for the comfort and familiarity of Aditya.

Her eyes drifted to the distance, beyond the singing and dancing wolf, where she thought her father might be. What did he think of Pharaoh‘a talents? What did she think of them? That was the harder question. Rarely did Brook think for herself, let alone attempt to form opinions.
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#13
soured now, the honeywine he had offered. brook was a more nervous creature than he had first thought. pharaoh placed distance between them and hid a sigh. what he would not do for the coyotes who had played the harlot on the mainland outside of yuelong! the flesh desirous, but ramesses knew it would not do to make the daughter of the prophet feel any negative way toward him.
she was unused to being from the side of her father; it would make his seduction of her only an attempt, rather than something assured.
he ran tonguetip along the outside of his jaw, glanced off toward the sea. "will you let me accompany you to aditya, brook?" he inquired softly, knowing to whose side she wished to return. "i will plague you no more with my singing," a self-indulgent laugh.
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#14
She realized she had been distracted, perhaps offended him by letting her attention wane. But she could not apologize, not as she had so many times with the wolves of Tortuga. That time in her life was over, and her apologies had never lessened their insults to her. She had been a weak creature when she had arrived to them, and she had left weaker, chased out because she could not be strong like the rest of them.

No, I—but what if refusing his assistance was an insult. She felt frozen again, unsure if she should accept or deny his request. Brook tried to put the pieces together, to form an opinion of what she should do, but none came. She did not need options, she needed a clear direction without choice. Choice was difficult, required skills she did not possess.

Yes, if that is what you wish. Yes, it was easier to please than to make him dislike her. Easier for the decision to be made by anybody but her.
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"i would." brook had no reason to refuse; ramesses rose to stand alongside her, though he kept a good deal of distance between herself and his own figure. not so far as to be forced into shouting toward the girl. a modest space, and he took a silent pleasure in arranging this so that she might take notice.
his interest was sharpening; she made herself forbidden. but nothing was forbidden to pharaoh. the darksea lazuli of his eyes played briefly over her face, and then he was turning toward the last direction he had seen aditya. "do you enjoy having the ocean so close?" so far, brook had given nothing of herself, but ramesses was not yet dissuaded.
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#16
Pharaoh remained away from her, which Brook had to admit she appreciated. She was not so used to strangers, even if she knew his name and knew him to be a part of her father's pack. Brook had not expected him to ask for more casual conversation, a skillset that she did not believe herself to possess. Every question felt like an interrogation, likely a side effect of her time with Tortuga. It had been only Aditya with whom she was able to have pleasant small talk with.

It reminded her of Tortuga, and for that, she despised it. But it brought her father happiness. My father enjoys it, and I enjoy seeing him happy. It was he who made the decisions, even when he had asked them of her. Brook had yet to break free from herself, and she did not want to. It was easier to live as her father's shadow, to live for him.
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#17
ramesses laughed, white teeth gleaming. "but that is not what i asked."
knowing lazuli stare stroked her cheekbones thoughtfully, and then pharaoh gestured toward the sea. "i myself do not. it is not that i hate all oceans, only this one. those of my childhood were always warm. in the morning. at the peak of the daytime heat. in the night. inviting at all times, like the arms of a veiled woman."
ramesses adored the telling of stories. he had learned well. he was arrogant, and so the tales that he had best memorized were those about himself. "your father says many things, and i enjoy hearing them, but it is your own i want to hear."