[PP-17] The Red Kings Throne

[Mari 1]

“Right, hang on…careful…” Mari was leading Lancaster, blindfolded past the confines of Athenaia. Down a small pathway, and hidden by a mountainside. “Almost there…”

 

Mari would pull the blindfold away from his eyes, only to cover them quickly with her own hands. “When you left the Laughing Coffin…I feel as though I took away your home, a space that was well and truly yours, and whilst my home shall always be a place for you…” She paused, finally removing her hands from his eyes allowing him to see the weeks of early rises and late nights. The reason she had been so absent, so tired, all of it coming to fruition in this single moment of time. “So it is only fair, for me to return it to you..two fold.” Mari would stand next to Lancaster, a head on his shoulder. “Mmm….maybe this is more than two fold though. It is four stories after all.” A small notification would pop up in front of Lancaster, allowing him to accept her grand gift.

This home, this space. Was entirely his.

 

The large estate is located just outside the city limits of Athenaia, surrounded by large walls mounted with golden spikes that gleam in the sunlight, as though they have been coated with something insidious to deter any potential trespassers. Inside is a vast courtyard with priceless marble statues dotted in its yard that leads up to a multistory home carved of the finest marble. Completely ostentatious in its design it oozes pure decadence and luxury that would make even the great rulers of the floor envious. The interior has heated floors throughout, so no matter the weather - one is always a comfortable temperature. In the entire foundation, walls, floors and ceilings of the building there are glimmering red stones stamped evenly into the stone and marble. Protection against the fiery temperament of the estate's owner. 

“Is yours. Just as I am, Mi Amore. Welcome to your home, your throne.”

 

 

Mari | HP: 1220/1220 | EN: 154/154 | DMG: 21 | MIT:143 | ACC:4 | AA  | FL.AURA: 8 | BH:67 | BRN: 56 | ENV-O: 32 | PARA-V | LD:5 | True Tier 16

[Lancaster 1]

A man bewildered and frankly beaten a little sideways. After their honeymoon stint he was still ran a little ragged, proving to him just how resilient Mari was to do this so often. Also speaking leagues to why she was so dead ass tired, and always cooed to a well placed foot massage. Bumbling around with the woman as his guide, the sounds of a city didn't do much to offer comfort but his trust in his beloved far outweighed it. Hands pull a strand of velvet from around his head, like a bandage being unraveled. Only a brief glimpse of sunlight before a pair of soft and sweet smelling hands with an undertone of acetone take their place. "A place my own..." He returns her statement, deciphering the meaning behind it. All picking at that statement by his thoughts are squelched the moment she removes her hands, leaving Vincent utterly dumbfounded and at a loss for words. "I..you..." The little screen pops up into view, stuck there confirming this was no mirage.

A glance to his feet trace marble that gleams in a polish, where figures far beyond his wildest imagination had escaped and taken residence. The walls themselves offer a glare like an oasis in a desert to the man. "Amari..." The guy turns to glance down in shock as she leans into his shoulder. "Mi gemalla anima... A house?" His Italian heritage takes over on autopilot, hand gestures moving about where his lips could find nothing to say. "Not just any house..." He looked up in awe, before looking down to his wife a grin so wide at her success. "All of this... all you... la mia donna può spostare le montagne" he lets rip slapping his forehead, trying to knock some sense into himself. He taps accept to show a little key form in the air, dropping gracefully into his palm. "I am unsure what to say... This gift is... more then a man could dream of mi amore." A mischievous grin sprouts itself on his face, and he shoves that gilded key between his teeth before plucking her up shoving his hand under her legs.

"At least allow me the pleasure of carrying you through the threshold, Amari. Every king needs a queen." spoken in a muffled garble as he starts to bound up the stairs.

Lancaster | HP: 800/800 | EN: 118/118 | DMG: 22 | MIT:56 | ACC:4 | BRN-IM  | FL.AURA: 16 | FL.THORNS: 16/32 | BH:40 | BLI: 32/-20  | BRN: 56

Spoiler

Name: Lancaster, The Emberheart
True Tier: 7
Level: 35
Paragon Level: 26
HP: 800/800
EN: 118/118

Stats:
Damage: 22
Mitigation: 56
Accuracy: 4
Battle Healing: 40
Stealth Rating: -3
BRN-IM
FL.AURA: 16
FL.THORNS: 16/32
BLI: 32/-20 
BRN: 56

Equipped Gear:
Weapon/Armor/Trinket: 
  - All Consuming Pyre - Hades [T4/Demonic/Throwing/200384n] | BRN 2, BLI 2
Armor/Trinket: 
  - Hydra Hide Jacket - Erebus [T4/Demonic/Heavy Armor] Flame Aura 2, Flame Thorns 2
Shield/Armor/Trinket: 
  - Inset Etching Tongue Piercing - Cerberus [Tierless/Demonic/Trinket] Accuracy 3, Fireproof

Combat Mastery:
  - Combat Mastery: Damage R3

Combat Shift:
  - AOE Shift

Familiar Skill:
  - 

Custom Skill:
  - 

Skills:
  - Battle Healing R5
  - Energist
  - Heavy Armor R3
  - Thrown Weaponry R5

Extra Skills:

Inactive Extra Skills:

Addons:
  - Focus
  - Precision
  - Stamina

Mods:
  - Impetus

Inactive Mods:

Battle Ready Inventory:
  - Anthem of Finality - Destruction [Tierless/Perfect/Debuff/Instant] Catalyst | 230758, 230778, 230779, 230780, 230781 x1
  - Anthem of Finality - Destruction [Tierless/Perfect/Debuff/Instant] Catalyst | 230782, 230783, 230784, 230785 x5
  - Resonance of the Grave [Tierless/Perfect/Debuff/Instant] Incarceration | 186790, 191009, 191013, 198351, 181560, x5
  - Teleport Crystal x4

Housing Buffs:
  - Dining Room: Turn 2 identical food items (same quality, tier, & enhancements) into a Lesser Feast. A Lesser Feast contains 4 portions of the food items sacrificed. Lesser Feasts created this way cannot be used outside of the thread they are created. Limit 1 item created per thread.
  - Living Room: Increases out of combatHP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.

Guild Hall Buffs:

Scents of the Wild Totem:

Wedding Ring:
  - Strong Will
Crafting Profession:

Gathering Profession:

 

[Mari 1]

Mari felt an irrevocable warmth as his calloused hands slid up her legs, her thigh, pulling her up and into him. Carrying her bridal style. His Italian a little too fast for even her to understand, but she could take a guess it was something along the lines of 'you didn't have to do this' or 'how did you move this?' His joy, his utter disbelief filled Mari with an immense sense of pride and joy. "Am yours...Always..." Mari whispered as she pressed her forehead into the nape of his neck, coiling her arms around his shoulders. Mari didn't really know too much about Vincent outside of the game, but...

"Vincent..." A soft mutter, a whisper of comfort came from her lips as they pressed against his neck. A pause to breathe in deep of his cologne, the sickly scent of acetone and gas and chemicals, mixed together in a dizzying array that was him. "I don't know much of you outside this place." She began as Lancaster began to carry her across the expansive courtyard. Normally she'd argue against it, but the woman was beyond exhausted. "Vincenzo Lionetti...changed his name to Vincent due to a dislike of his name..." A pause, another inhale. "A man who adores fine things, expensive tastes, very expensive tastes...refined table manners...owns an original and expensive Harley...and yet...who became trapped here due to a job gone wrong..."

Maybe Mari was rambling, maybe she shouldn't be admitting she had been dwelling on all this, but she'd be amiss if she had to lie to her husband. 

Mari's arms wrapped tighter around him. "I don't know if you came from a wealthy family, and left it due to how stifling and boring it was...or if you're -" A pause, and in inhale, it sounded simply ridiculous to insinuate, like something out of a written book. "Or if you belong to some...mafioso. Whatever the case is, Vincent...I wanted to give you a taste of your home."

Her voice grew quiet.

His home.

Mari would follow him to the ends of the earth, into the belly of such a family, if needs must - but she wasn't sure if the her out there would ever be suited.

"All for you. My king."

 

Edited November 2 by Mari

[Lancaster 1]

A press of her forehead into the nape of his neck gave him the fuel he needed to bound up the stairs with a bit more moxie then it was at first, providing him the strength to make the woman feel almost weightless. Vincent smiles with a flare of pride, that same cocky grin that he always had around her. One that most never would witness and yet she managed to drudge it out of him so easily. That of a man not tarnished in sin, that hid beneath a scowl or aloof stare he always wore. "Of course mi amore, you are the apple of my eye. It pleases me to call you mine, and when you grow possessive the same." A rub of his chin as he leans precariously trying to fit a spat key into the lock, a couple odd adjustments and eventually he worms his way in. A large gleaming hall he was ready to explore, but now was not the time just yet. "I know, Amari... Has been on my mind..." His speech becoming much more somber as he'd look for a seat, the first door on his left finding a study. An unlit fireplace sits dark, and setting Mari down on an extravagant sofa he'd pull open some curtains and allow the light to pour in.

With that new light he'd start fresh and with the open of the window he'd breathe a new dose of air. "Let us talk. Allow me to answer your questions. Is time to open a window." A sharp inhale of that clean breeze, he'd take a seat beside her and press his hands atop his knees. "Vincenzo Lionetti, Is not as though I hate it." The man spoke lightly, lighter then his usual bombastic self. "Is only my mother who appreciated it, and well... mi amico, not so much. Is a bit too... old for the crowd I...." An exhale choosing his words after a moment of pause. "Fell in with." Tapping twice on his legs, he'd look to his bride, a genuine smile worn with pride. A stroke of her hair from her eyes, he'd claim her right hand with a wedding ring as his prize. "I like expensive things, a good meal, paintings because, I grew up without anything. No matter how much my mother tried." Lancaster milled memories around, just as ripe as the day as they were made. "The bike I stole, No way I could ever afford it otherwise..." The man expressed honestly, sighing again as it was a bit of an sore wound.

A lift of a finger he'd offer a pause. "One second..." He moves to the fireplace and sparks it with that same pointed finger, allowing it glow bright in but a single moment. His eyes catch that fire, allowing the light to reflect his darkest past and things he'd kept hid. It wasn't because he was afraid of it, or that he was ashamed. But it was common practice to not speak of such deeds, plausible deniability was the reason. "Aincrad was.... a happy accident. We had a shipment of stolen electronics, the little helmets were a part of it. At the docks, they were to be... sold." His attention shifts back to Mari his face quite serious. "I pulled the shortest straw, and ended up testing the game instead of a toaster... immaginati." The man chuckled softly taking a seat back by her side. "I was an esecutore, to a much larger family. The Albanians, as a brother... a made man. My table manners and my tastes, come from... ambition, mi amore." Vincent takes her hand into his lap, clasping it with both of his own. "Life out there is hardly fair, mi anima gemalla. I was given no chances I didn't take, or push. School was pointless, and I had little to show until I joined the family. I had to do what I did for a better life, for me and mia madre." He'd smile and raise her hand, pecking the back of it with his lips. "And now, you Amari Lionetti. sei il mio orgoglio e la mia gioia. This home is all I ever dreamed, all I ever wished to obtain and my queen was the one to provide." Seeking out the spaces between her fingers with his own, tracing her palm.

"Is enough about me, I am just as interested in you Amari. Pain to share I know, but I would like to hear more then just rumors and assumption."

[Mari 1]

Despite the heavy topic of discussion, Mari couldn’t help but feel wells of pride roll through her as she felt his breath hitch and pause at the entrance - how his eyes lingered on various pieces of marble, the paintings, a grand staircase. Far too extravagant and gaudy for her tastes, but for him…it felt perfect. A chuckle and a grin set her a little more at ease as he carried her to an adjacent room. A study.

“Apple of your eye….” Mari mused, and as Lancaster came to sit by her she slid over him, straddling him, resting firmly in his lap. Hands running over his shoulders, resting on his chest. “Always possessive of you, my sweet, cherished Vincent.”

She grew silent as he talked about his past. Mari was a little surprised how far off the mark she had been. Growing up with nothing…she could relate. “Fell in with…” Mari repeated quietly. She wished she could say she would, could provide him with everything and more - but out there…she couldn’t.

Lancaster sighed and Mari caught it with her kiss, not allowing him to falter. Lancaster returned, wrapping his arms around her waist and breaking away, shifting her off his lap and moving toward the fireplace. He lit it, and stood, watching.  The dancing light of the flames licking at his somber expression.

“You mentioned that accident before…” Mari said quietly, leaning over the couch, watching him. “You were abandoned, left alone…and felt nothing but cold the first few months in Aincrad.” A connection Mari hadn’t seen before. Why he hated the 4th floor, why he adored the warmth and fire.

Lancaster moved back to the couch, lifting her legs then sitting back down, placing them in his lap, absently he began to remove her shoes, moving to massage her feet. Then pausing to reach over and take her hands in his, pulling her up to a seated position beside him. “You…give me far too much credit, Vincent.” 

He asked about her, and it was Mari’s turn. Something she had been dreading.

“Outside…I am not much to note. I grew up in a rural town in the middle of nowhere in Australia. Mother and Father, were fine, I guess. Nothing fancy. My father died when I was young.” Mari pointed to the cigarette that Lancaster was lifting to his lips. “Lung Cancer, too much smoke.” A soft snort. A slight change in conversation

“I have a confession.”

She snapped her own fingers, lighting Lancasters cigarette for him.

“The day I met you, you offered me a cigarette. I denied you, saying I used to when stressed, but not anymore. Truthfully, I used to hate the smell. I tolerated it for you. Because the moment I met you, there was something about you - it left me breathless, left me wanting more. You, Vincenzo - were so addicting. 

A tilt of her head, and a press of her lips to his neck, enjoying the way she could feel goosebumps form on his skin, hear and feel him swallow. The shift of his weight as his fingers pressed tighter into her skin.

“I married a man named Jonathan. Business entrepreneur, I got pregnant, an accident and he grew angry and cold. I was in no short terms. Forced into a marriage, then - once Evelyn was born a messy divorce. He had paid of people to fake legal documents. Made me look like a drug addict, and an unfit mother. Left me with nothing.”

Mari grew quiet, the next part, she hadn’t admitted to anyone.

“I lived on the streets for a year whilst studying. Working. Any job I could that would pay me under the table. The one thing Jonathan was good for at least…was to pre-pay all my studies at the University. Language, Chemical Science…I loved it. I felt like that was all I had. Eventually, I ended up in Japan.”

Mari rolled her hand, “One of those….teach english to kids and free room and board type deals…my way into Aincrad - much different to yours. I simply was on a product testing machine before my flight - and …” A pause. “Now I’m here.”

There was a lot she glossed over, but, she could say the same for Lancaster, a brief telling of her past before delving into her time in Aincrad.

“Vincent, how did you end up joining the Laughing Coffin?” A question that would lead into his past within the confines of the game.

He’d tell his, and she’d tell hers. To be sure.

“One moment…”

A flash of light, and a change of clothes. Mari wore a silk negligee, deep in crimson - matching his eyes. A wry smile and another kiss to the underside of his chin.

“I adore you, no matter what your past is. I want you, in your entirety, for as long as you have me.”

[Lancaster 1]

Feeling the warmth of her thighs across his legs, the pressure like a warm blanket that gave him an anchor. Every word he spoke she hung on, the look of interest and proof of him being heard. It wasn't a story he'd ever considered to be relevant or that he would share with anyone, especially given how far away such a world seemed. "Sometimes I remember what its like, a dream where I can't get warm. The cold never ending." He spoke finding himself back in her clutches, peeling her warmth as a fight against that memory. "But our bed has made them... scarce." He milled accepting her legs into his lap, rubbing her feet seeking out the tension and the action itself grounding him. "Oh, mi amore. I do not think so." Setting her shoes on the ground beside the right most leg, tucking the loose strings into the top. Hugging her shoulders as he slides into the space, the man sets his head on hers and buries his nose into her hair. "Every day, you astound me and shatter my expectations. So much more then I could ever hope, you intrigue me. Beyond anything I could ever imagine. I am confident... in you."

"Is strange, I had my suspicions in our home when I first visited." The man spoke as she lit the end of his smoke, and his offer to not smoke inside was curbed rather quickly. Back when he noticed the way she scrunched her nose, and kept her distance at first. But in time she'd started keeping closer when they were burning, and later she even kept a couple lit in her hair. As if somehow had claimed that painful memory and had made it something less so. "If it bothers you mi amore, know I would....." the man milled that statement around, as if some fiber of him was rejecting the thought. "Quit." An exasperated release, one of smoke in a short puff. As Amari pressed her lips into his neck, that quickly became an afterthought. The heat of it, the life of it. All that much more real. Happy. "Jonathan..." Lancaster tasted the name on his lips, a slight bite of something sour on it. Knowing loosely what it held, like an annoying insect or a punch in the gut.

 "What a piece of work. A coward hides behind papers, and scum abandon their own family." Lancaster spat at the end of Mari's retelling, finding no greater of an insult then a person that would divorce flesh and blood willingly. Mari's past he was aware of, and he knew that she considered it a mistake. "Always so bright, mi fiamma. You did what you had to." The man would tap a drooping bit of ash into a tray on his right, just past the arm on an awaiting end table. "A stroke of fortune had led you to me, and although it was painful. I am glad we were given this chance." That smoke moves back to his mouth. "Is an old story, but is not too odd. When..." a flash of blue light sees her attire change something far more form fit and inviting, forcing him to be struck dumb. "Where was I?..." A finger curled into his lips, back pedaling through his train of thought. "Right!" He exhumes with a point of a tilted finger. "When, the game first began I had zero fucking idea. Not much of a..." he'd lift his hands and twiddle his fingers through the air, mimicking tapping on a keyboard. "But... I knew what I knew. So I leaned on it... the little announcement said lean on my strengths. I started doing what I had to to get by. Is the same as Milan. But needed marks, a dive bar here or there for info." The thought of those dirty slimy places took him back for a moment with a wave of his hands in gestures, it was a quite a long time ago. "Buy a couple names, flex a muscle and make some money. No different, and a few others wanted in. After a bit I had my own little gang, and I graduated from an esecutore to a pezzo da novanta. Looked up to me, listened to me. But then the info dried up, and my boys were getting restless. Getting some heat from the frontlines as a result." Lancaster inhaled sharply, flicking a little bit of Mari's hair. Twirling his fingers in a circle on her left shoulder, his arm tucked behind her neck.

"Then I received an invite, out of the blue in the middle of a raid. The Big Cheese, in the flesh. It promised it had the info, the tools and better yet ways to slip back under the radar. Win on Win on Win, and all it asked was to follow its rules. No cost, and it would provide everything. So I bit, my boys bit. We've been Laughing Coffin. Until... The rest you know, mi anima gemalla."

[Mari 1]

The cold never ending

A sentence that unnerved Mari, it made her cling to him tighter. A promise, through body, then through words. “Never again. I’ll ensure you will never feel such a thing again.”

He held her close, and Mari soaked up that warmth with her fingers, sprawling them up and under his jacket, removing it. “You have no need to quit. Although…” A pause, unsure if they would leave. “If we ever find ourselves in the real world again, perhaps you cut back - I’d be lost without you with me.”

 

"Jonathan..."
 

The name spoken with absolute disgust. How he had abandoned his family, and it were true. For even their daughter had made her way into Aincrad. No doubt a way to keep her busy and out of his hair. “Family…”  Mari whispered quietly. “I did kill my daughter. So maybe I do not deserve one...I think about family. With you, I'd love to meet your Madre' Vincenzo....but...do I deserve that?” Mari said, her hand finding his and squeezing it tightly, finding that comfort she so sorely needed. “Remember how I said Jonathan rigged the case, his Lawyer was the one who threw her in front of my strike. Uriel, his name was - he kept following me, taunting me and teasing me - trying to drive me insane.”  A soft snort and a shake of her head.

“...I guess… in a way he got what he wanted, but-” Mari shifted. Resting in the crook of Lancasters neck. “That’s why I want him dead. No. I want him to suffer, then to die. I want all his luxuries stripped from him. His millions - I want him to live in poverty like I did. I want him to have that sliver of hope - only to have it ripped from him and I want to see the look on his face when his life is taken in that moment.” A pause, Mari hadn’t realized she had been trembling. A heaving stilted breath. “Does that make me wrong? Bad?”

She was silent at that moment, she could feel Lancasters chest puff out, and before he could reply Mari stopped him, a small kiss on his lips. “It may. But I am fine with that, as long as I have you.”

And, then Lancaster told her of his time in Aincrad. Mari laughed as he wriggled his fingers. “Yes, yes. Neither one of us are much of the gamer type.” She’d return his gesture, sticking her tongue out at him as she mocked his hand movements in a light hearted manner.

 

Mari would shoot him with a fingergun, repeating “Pezzo da Novanta, bang.”

 

She fell quiet when Lancaster told her ‘The Big Cheese’ personally invited him. Raidou… a way to curb people. It made sense. “Do you…miss it?” Mari asked, “Did you…even have any friends there?” Mari reached forward and ran a hand over his cheek. “I wish you had others to fall back on.” She picked up his hand and kissed the top of it.

 

“My time in Aincrad, you know most of it - my love. After my daughter, I lost it. Threw myself into potions and chemicals and concoctions. I found it therapeutic, I found a sick kind of joy in watching others struggle just as I had… then guilt ate at me and I hid away. Only to be dragged back up again by people like Oscar, and Baldur….Oikawa…”
 

The last name fell from her lips slowly, she missed him. “Another confession - Mi Amore. One you already know, most likely. Oikawa confessed to me. You know?” A tilt of her head, a sigh. “Admissions of love, only to disappear, poof gone. An asshole, no? Too bad for him, for I am now entirely yours.”

A shift as Mari moved to further cement herself into his lap. A pause of the conversation to indulge in everything that was him. Arms snaked around his, nails digging into his shoulders as she would let her passions rise and take over. Unyielding in her desires, wanting to show the man just how much he meant to her. Words could wait, the tour would wait. Mari was hungry.  

Edited November 9 by Mari

[Lancaster 1]

Scanning the features of her face as feverishly as a college student to a textbook, he'd walk tough calloused fingers across her soft skin. Enjoying the sensation of the goosebumps, and the small shutters that jumped across her body when touched just right. His jacket off and he'd more then been released, allowed to breath and relax in a way that he did not usually. Something that Mari alone could really provide, a prize more valuable then any amount of wealth. Comfort. "Is appreciated, helps calm the nerves. But possible for me to... taper back, might need another form of stress relief though." A tilt of his head and a raise of his brows forecast his meaning, a smirk claiming the corners of his mouth. "Making mistakes is what makes us human, as long as we can own up to them. Take responsibility in some way. Your.... soon to be late ex-husband." The man lifts his hands for but a brief moment to let his connotation sink in, before letting them drop back in his lap in a lowkey shrug. "Has no care or concern, is why he deserves what comes his way." The tip of his smoke lights up bright, as his lungs expand. An exhale allows that ash to escape, in a stream from his lips. "Best way to break a rich man, is to cut at his heels. Is one thing to kill a man. But to crush them, slowly and methodically. Batte tutti. Each piece and inch cut from tips of fingers, a business, a flat tire. Start small, granular and over time watch his world crumble." Lancaster leans and taps off the dangling bit of ash, twice with his index making it fall into the tray.

There conversation takes to a lighter tone, as Mari sticks out her tongue in jest making him feign laughs mockingly himself before smiling. "I don't miss it, most of who I worked with were not my friends. Soon see a knife in my back then help me up. Before..." He'd draw a line with his finger between them both. "I could trust no one. Not my men, my guild mates, none of them." Spoken as Mari would take to a peck on the back of his hand, unfolding his fingers to brush her cheek as she held his wrist. "To each their own mi amore, I set people in fiamme. Oikawa was... different. Mi amico was good man at times, I'd not speak ill of him. Provided a service to me and my companions that we'd never hope to accomplish without him. Is a shame that he failed to understand what your worth, but is.... his loss." A sudden shift into the depths of his lap see parts of them beginning to become close to tangled, and the physical persuasion of such movements was not lost on Vincent in the slightest. The way she hooked onto his shoulders and latched herself into him had his more baser natures escaping the seriousness of the conversation and taking control of the wheel. An exquisite taste as he flicks the cigarette into the fire and buries his face into her neck as if aiming to bite deep and tear her skin, but the bite of his teeth although somewhat rough only wished to savor all that she'd give and take. Vincent was home, finally finding a space to be himself. The walls of the home would speak nothing of what it witnessed, and yet what it would see would bring even the most seasoned to become flush and breathing heavy.

WC: 598

[Mari 1]

Soon to be late husband...

The words hung heavy in the air. A tension. Not between the two lovers, but of the reality that came with them.

"If we get out of here...." Mari said quietly, a hand on Lancasters chest. "Lets do just that, make the man's life a living hell. Lets take all that he has, all I ask is I be there when he closes his eyes the final time. I want him to know I was there to watch him breathe his last breath." Mari knew the weight of her words, of his. A death outside Aincrad was far more different than within the confines of the game. So much unknown, unspoken for. The only fear she would have would be the very real risk that they'd be ripped apart from the law. "Then we live, in Milan. Japan. Australia. I do not care where, as long as it is with you." Mari's brows furrowed. She wasn't sure what he felt about the outside world. She knew when she first met him, he wanted to stay here. Wanted to use Aincrad as his playground. It was a conversation they needed to have, but it didn't feel right to just bring it up right now. Not when he was so tense. Mari noticed how his shoulders twitched at her touch, the weariness of his gaze. The exhaustion behind the bravado.

Hearing that he had no friends, no one to fall back on - it hurt her. It hurt to know the man she loved lived a lonely life. It hurt because she knew just how isolating it was. Never truly being able to relax. It was no wonder he would take to constantly having a cigarette in his mouth. Never having the fear of being betrayed, but never having the warmth of another. It was suffocating. Mari gave him a pained look, a hand brushing his hair back. "I wish I could change that for you Vincent. I adore you, I wish you had at least one other to rely on - for what if I die? What if I am captured? What if-" His grip on her tightened, and in response to her words he pressed his lips hard to hers. Passion through desperation, followed by a weak whisper.

"Do not say such things."

Spoken in a tone that some would take as a threat but Mari heard as a plea. So the woman dropped the topic entirely, instead shifting it back to Oikawa. "Mayhaps we find the man, show him what he missed out on, kick his ass." A soft laugh. "One day, you will need to tell me of what he provided you, maybe I could replicate it?" A tilt of her head, and a cheeky grin. There was enough painful discussions for the day.

"Stress relief, Oh Vincenzo. That's exactly why I am here."

 

~~~

 

Mari groaned when the rays of the morning sun hit her face. She pushed herself off the floor, her hand hitting the plush animal skin rug. Her back hurt, her skin still tinged red from a night of raw passions that sent the both into pure exhaustion. The woman was still weary, but she needed last night. They both did. Wearing nothing but one of this buttoned white shirts Mari sat up and stretched, her back cracking in several places. The fire had long since died out, but the room still held a warmth. The air was crisp, clean, but didn't carry the same weight of winter as the 4th floor. A glance to her side at a sleeping Lancaster, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. It was a wonder how the two even managed to dress themselves as much as they had. Mari leaned over Lancaster, hair spilling past her shoulders. She pressed her lips to his, inhaling and becoming intoxicated on the scent of whiskey and cigarettes. Of ash and acetone, of all that he was. Lancaster stirred, opening one eye then the other.  "Good morning, Husband."  It was the first time she had greeted him in such a way. Lancaster stared at her for a few minutes then a slow languid grin formed on his lips as he reached out to her, and pulled Mari into a strong and tight embrace. his muscles taught as he squeezed her so hard Mari thought she'd choke. Yet all she could do was laugh, a light giggle as he used his weight to flip her over onto the floor. Towering over her and offering her several kisses from her shoulder to her collarbone to her neck.

"Is not a dream..." He breathed into her neck.

"No, it's real. As real as it can be." Mari said softly as she sat up, shifting to rest in his lap. They never got to finish the tour of his grand mansion. They never got to finish the conversation from last night. There was still so much left unspoken between the two, but Mari was not going to ruin the moment. Lancaster snapped his fingers and the fireplace sprang to life. Mari leaned back into his chest as Lancaster re-positioned himself so she could comfortably sit in his lap. A wrinkle of her nose, as he was already smoking. 

"You know...I prepared you breakfast in advance." She cooed, "You asked me to make you one of my favorite meals. So I have."

WC:899

@Lancaster