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( it's perhaps a very small, very errant sort of hope--but there is a part of ningguang that thinks if she can get to the beautiful, lusciously-grown temples on the islands again, then perhaps she can ask for some forgiveness from the gods who seem to have cursed her with such an odd reaction to the pollen that's roaming about all the places she's been, now.

it's hard to concentrate on her task of acquiring further information about the various blooms in place, on the island that's full of flowers, or about the way that these places seem to operate with their governmental branches, how they assess trade and commerce and travel, when it feels almost like she'd like to claw herself right out of her skin. she's a determined sort of person, capable of enduring so many hardships without even blinking twice about them, and yet--this is something unlike anything she's ever truly felt before. her fingers urge to drive welts into the skin that shows, from where her gloves leave a gap between them and the sleeves of her dress, and it's worrisome to think that perhaps there are more itchy patches of skin even hidden beneath the material. she hasn't looked yet.

she's tried, for hours, to focus on gathering information from locals where she could--there were some, even, who warned her of her predicament, to which she paid it no mind. it's simply a rash, she figures, perhaps from walking so far or being out under the sun for too long, but...

but now, as she's wondering how she might make it up to one of the temples to pray for relief--she decides to take a risk, easing off towards the side of a flower-blossoming path to carefully, delicately, start to peel down one of her gloves. as expected: the skin underneath is itchy, and she sighs, allowing one moment of weakness to carve her clawed digits down it, seeking immediate relief. it's probably, embarrassingly, there that ethan will find her: scrubbing furiously at pale skin like it might help stave off the feeling at all. )

[Ethan's been rather... more lucky, this round of things. Even if the chiri blossoms had had an effect on him, the way he's been? It's no surprise he'd have found someone to assist him really.

In any case, he's not going anywhere in particular, but the sound of something catches his ear. A rustle of leaves, perhaps, in the blossoming path. Why it worries him, he can't really say - intuition, maybe, or just the luck of curiosity. In any case, he pauses when he spots her - scrubbing at her skin like it's offended her somehow, and it brings to mind some of his previous interactions. Not the same, he reckons, but that's not the point anyway.

The point is that he clears his throat, stopping a polite distance from Ningguang.]

{Miss Ningguang? Do you need some assistance?}

[He certainly looks concerned, and nothing more besides - how could he not, really? She looks like she might just lose her mind if she doesn't get something.]

( at first, she's reluctant to turn to face him--she recognizes the voice, of course, just as she would dutifully recognize anyone who met her before, but this is not the sort of position that anyone should catch her in. yet she's still grateful that it isn't someone else; it would be morbidly embarrassing to be caught giving in to the strange urges of a strange planet by someone like keqing, or even childe. ethan, as she knows him, is kind and polite, a bit distanced but could never mean her any harm; he doesn't really have a motive to use anything against her, either. still--she's careful to give one last, claw-raking dash down her arm before she carefully tugs her glove up, smooths her palms out against her dress and turns to face him.

the smile on her face is worn, but it's not unkind, nor dishonest. although she likes to tend to things alone, there is some solace in having company, and having the company of someone she recognizes, rather than just a stranger. but her pale face is flushed, a pink to her cheeks that is inherently uncommon, and though she steps closer to him, she worries for the sort of reaction her body might have in regards to his, like perhaps this horrible itching will give way to something on his skin, as well. )

Ethan. It's a pleasure to see you again, although I have to apologize for my appearance here.

( there's a faint nod of her chin, almost a laugh, before she shakes her head: the effects of all the itching means there's blotches of soft pink skin, where her sleeve gives way to the top of her glove. )

I've been told this is the effect of some of the pollen in the air, although I admit that I'm struggling with what the further ramifications will be, without...relief. Are you familiar with it?

( maybe he knows some other trick? perhaps she should jump into cold water? she watches him with a faint smile, curious. )

[ethan can't help but watch her actions - really, it's just how he is, even if it wasn't just... worrisome. those claws don't seem like they would be conducive to protecting soft skin, and he's... been in some situations where he's definitely torn into his own skin even with his short nails.]

{It's nothing to apologise for. This place is...}

[when he pauses, he frowns, shaking his head. how to explain it? she's been here a month now, but it was definitely (thankfully) a lot calmer than prior. between the feral people in the first month and his own experiences with the plants this last month...]

{It seems like this place has the strongest effect on us, especially if we're not engaging in synchrony regularly.}

[his frown deepens a little and he reaches out to touch a blotch of pink, gentle and easily brushed off really. as to an answer...]

{I'm not, personally, but I did deal with another... compulsion, not too long ago. Usually, synchronising of any sort is a help.

If you'd like, we could at least find somewhere to sit and relax. It might not be all you need, but it should help.}

[He doesn't want to be presumptuous, but he's also unfortunately aware of how troublesome it can be to have no relief at all. After avoiding it with the plants for so long the last time, he's not sure ignoring anything is smart here.

Beyond that, how much assistance she'd like to take is ultimately up to her.]

It is unfortunate, then, that I prefer to engage in it as little as possible.

( it's said with the air of a joke, because it is: she doesn't really have anyone that she trusts to depend on, in this place, enough for something as personal as that; and as someone who doesn't really much like to have to trouble anyone at all, or someone determined to rely on herself, it's a little unfortunate to have to try to do things a different way, here. but she's had the currency and the methodology explained to her succinctly, and it's an inevitable byproduct of this place, isn't it? so she relents, with a sigh, and nods towards a couple of benches, set up the hill from them. )

You're very kind to offer. Up there, perhaps? A bit of privacy, as well.

( since he's here, and unassuming enough--she gestures out with a palm, first, before she sets out, careful and steady in her steps despite the distinct urge to start dragging her fingers down every inch of her skin. it's awfully persistent, and seems almost worst, in the presence of someone else; that means that when she sinks down onto the bench, she reaches for ethan with both hands, guiding him firmly so that he sits as near to her as she can manage.

it's his words that she's ruminating on, as she lays her gloved hands on his arm, keeps them linked together--hopefully he doesn't mind, as she tilts her head to look at him. )

What else will I need? ( curiously--oh, she knows what the natives said, but she would like to hear it from ethan. ) In your opinion.

{As a whole, it isn't nearly as reliant on deep intimacy as they make it seem, at least.}

[There's not the least air of deceit in it, and he waves a hand - he understands, after all. Despite the fact that he'd fallen in with two people - one whom he nearly fears how alike they are and another who had... rather pushed his way into his life in some measure - Ethan is normally a fairly self-sufficient individual. This place has its way of forcing some things, but...]

{It's the least I can offer, given we're all here together. Lead the way, miss Ningguang.}

[The walk is a quiet enough one, easy and smooth, and Ethan is only a little surprised when both hands reach for him to guide him quite nearby. For someone who self-admittedly avoids this, he can imagine it's difficult to ingratiate herself, or perhaps rely on others.]

{In my opinion...} Hm.

[The 'hm' is aloud, a deep, smooth tone in comparison to the mechanised voice.]

{If I may be blunt, I can say from some experience that yes, sexual intimacy is normally the most powerful relief from anything that happens here. Even so, I know of plenty of us who are young or uninterested, and they've managed just fine. It seems to be more the depth of the connection.

Just leaning on someone you... care for, or are attracted to, or otherwise have a good connection with, is stronger than someone you don't know, or trust less. It's perhaps not an ideal answer, but it's what I've found.}

( no, it's not the most ideal answer--but it's clear, and it's honest, and she appreciates the evidence of his experience more than a guess, or the teasing suggestion of people she doesn't know, natives and their encouragement that may not be for the sake of her relief but for the sake of this place as a whole. so even as they sit there, and he explains, she finds herself nodding, making the realization that she's going to have to admit more of herself to those that she's become familiar with, here, if she's going to survive doing anything here at all.

thoughtfully, she lifts her gaze to watch him as he speaks. )

And--ah, I'm sorry, it's just...

( with a bit of a laugh, soft as it is, she manages to untangle one of her armss from ethan so that she can scratch at the side of her neck; whatever it is, it's spreading to more than just her arms, at this point, and growing increasingly frustrating. )

Do you think you could find yourself attracted to me? ( well, at least she's clear and blunt about it: there's no judgment in her gaze, just the cool, calm curiosity, as if she's asked him his favorite tea or what sort of books he likes to read. ) It's alright if I don't meet your preferences.

( just as truthfully, for her preferences, she would--rather not have anyone touch her at all, but something tells her they may be a little similar, in some respects, like that. maybe that's what affords him a small, private smile, as she tilts her head and studies him while she waits. )

[It's as blunt and clear as it is sudden and surprising, and for a moment, Ethan can only blink at her. Well, he can't fault her for that in response to his own statements.

More, it's that he actually needs a moment to think on the actual question. Attraction is something that just... happens, and he's not sure what the actual connection between them is.]

{Honestly? I'm not certain what my preferences are, as a whole. More...}

[His lips purse as he considers how to say it, exhaling a soft hum.]

{I can tell you individual action traits that I enjoy, but I don't really have a... type, precisely. You're very attractive though, yes.

I'd be more surprised if I met yours, if I'm honest.}

[He's still reserved in his motions, though he does reach up gently to pull her hand away from her neck. Honestly, he doubts it will help, if she's already asking this...

Exhaling a sigh that's vaguely amused, perhaps even a tiny bit embarrassed, he actually parts his lips to speak, voice a little tired, but still deep and rich.]

... It may be easier to just... go slowly, for now. Especially if you're not really sure what you like either.

[He's watching her more than anything else, ensuring she doesn't hesitate too much as soft, cool fingers shift to brush along her jaw.

Really, he doesn't mind. He's not the type to really mind when it comes to things like this.]

It's easier, I find, when you can stop at your comfort level. [He doesn't note that he's not yet found a reason to stop - the important implication is that this will be at Ningguang's speed.]

( it's refreshing, in a sense, that he takes her hand without any thought to it at all--more that he just sees something and acts on it, that there's no nervousness or question or even fear to it, and she's so amused that she allows him to hold her hand for a moment, no matter how badly she still wants to rake her fingers down her neck and to her chest. even more refreshing that he uses his voice: his actual voice, spoken from lips that she's focused on more than the words themselves. this is a means to an end, clearly, and might be for the both of them, though that doesn't--mean that it has to be unenjoyable, does it? he's attractive, though she imagines he doesn't need her telling him that; he's comfortable to be around, though she imagines he doesn't need her telling him that either.

so she sets her hands into her lap for a moment, polite, or perhaps savoring the fact that while his fingers are cool, along her jaw, they're not unpleasant. and though she doesn't really like anyone to touch her, this is more--along the lines of business, rather than anything as deep or as troubling as the thought of a relationship or something where her deeper thoughts and feelings have to be shared. the more he touches, the more she can feel her skin soothe: a tingle of it, like it's not quite enough, but that's easily fixed. )

Or not stop at all? ( questioning, as one of her hands lifts, graceful, to shadow over his; she gives it a squeeze, brushes it up so that it cradles her cheek for a moment, selfish to have a bit more touch to calm her. ) If that's comfortable for you, too.

( equality, there. give and take. the art of having a beneficial contract. her lips curve into a smile, but her hands are moving instead to tug herself closer to him, fingertips that whisper over one of his thighs, the one nearest to her, just for the sake of feeling him close by. ) I may have a bad habit of trying to take charge, however.

[his laugh is soft, almost sweetly gentle in its way. she may not be trying in particular, but something about the air of ningguang puts him at ease. it's a first, in many ways.]

Or not stop at all, yes. [an easy response, and his fingers cradle her cheek carefully, but not delicately.] If something bothers me, I'll say as much. You are, of course, welcome to do the same.

[it's the only logical way, to him. equality, indeed, and he inhales a soft breath when she tugs herself closer, ghosts fingertips over his thigh.]

... You'll find that's not a bad habit, necessarily. I've a habit of falling into a following position, I don't mind at all. [he's no idle partner, by any means, but it's a lot easier to follow someone's lead and figure out what they enjoy than it is to take that charge when he barely understands emotional... well, anything. his thumb, in turn, shifts to brush along the curve of her lips, slow in their explorations for now.]

( she laughs, but it's not unkind--and it's not much of a laugh, either, just the faint ghost of breath on the pad of his thumb as it moves along the curve of her lips. it's not exactly surprising, but not in the sense that she thinks there's anything wrong about it. it's more that it means that she won't have to apologize for being clear in a way that others might find demanding--or that he'll take offense to any kind of directive. rather, it bodes well for any kind of bond between them: that they'll work together, off each other, rather than in conflict.

the more that he touches--the further that he touches--the more she thinks she can understand what this itch is about. it's the kind that can't be scratched, really, that deep-seated urge that he brings forward, and soothes, with his careful, but not fearful, touch. it makes sense, what the natives told her, the stubborn streak in her refusing to see it for what it is--and if he's willing, then that's lucrative for her, isn't it? )

I strive to make things as equal as they can be... In all my arrangements. ( mostly in business, but well--this works here, too, and she focuses her gaze on his face. ) So if I encouraged you down onto your knees, underneath my dress, between my thighs... You would, of course, understand the sort of reciprocation I'd be willing to offer.

( she's smiling, but it's measured by what she can read on his face. ) And does that bother you? Here? In public?

[he can recall it, in some ways - the first time he'd felt such a deep pull of need, the way it coursed to quench some unknown fire in ways he couldn't begin to describe. it's a little... funny, maybe, that he's here sort of on the other side of it all, far from the first and largely in a position to explain, wordlessly, the value of deep connection.

those are thoughts for later, though. right now, stubborn or not, transactional or not, ningguang is very clear in her wishes. it's almost more disorienting than he's used to, as someone who usually devolves into snark or, if he's lucky, into giving exactly what his partner wants. that, at least, is the same enough to grasp on.]

Well, I can take a hint, yes. Reciprocation is up to your whims, though. I hardly need it, just to help is also fine.

[he's a strange one, perhaps, but there's no strain to his expression in saying it. honestly, after the first time he'd intentionally pushed anything... no, he'd much rather leave this to her discretion. it does heat his cheeks a little to think of the mostly public venue, but did he actually mind? not nearly as much as he might have once thought.]

It... well, no. The thought of possibly being caught out here is sort of exciting, if I'm honest. [and he's endeavoring to be quite honest, about now. his expression turns the slightest bit teasing, finally, the seriousness sort of degrading over ethan's softer, more playful side.] So if that's what you'd like, I'll do my level best to leave you satisfied. If you'd rather move, I'll follow.

( exciting? it does make her laugh, again, but it's not at him, or in the sense that anything he's said is silly, or out of bounds. rather it's that she finds it to be true: it is exciting, especially for someone who works so hard to maintain an image of order, or decorum, in front of others, lest she give something away. there's a freedom to being here with ethan that she didn't quite expect to have: he doesn't know much of anything of her, or her past, or her status back home, and she knows relatively little of him, as well. there are no expectations or images to be broken, but merely the reciprocation of attraction, or pleasure, and that's about as pleasantly transactional as something like this is going to get. she doesn't let her walls down even with sex: but he has endeared her enough that she doesn't want him going away empty handed.

so she shakes her head a little, the charms in her hair moving with the movement. no, she won't move--though it is nice that he would follow--but instead cast her gaze up, just a cursory examination of the area around them. it's not as secluded as it perhaps should be, but then again, if this place didn't want things such as this to happen, they maybe they should control the effect of their flowers, shouldn't they? so instead, she draws her hands away from ethan, but only so that they can move to her own body: gloved hands that seek either side of her slit dress, dipping beneath the ribboned bands so that she can feel for the hem of her shorts and, pointedly, start pulling them down.

it's probably the most graceful she can manage it to be, which is ironic, given what she's doing--but she only lifts her hips enough to get the movement necessary, and then the thin, black material is down past her knees, dropped to her ankles before she lifts one heel and then the next, plucking them up and setting them neatly on the bench at her other side. that's all that's underneath the dress, at least, so when her gaze turns to him again, it's with warm amusement. )

You can start doing your level best, then. ( not a command--but an expectation, as she watches him, and then draws her gaze down towards her own lap, as if in indication. ) Do tell me if there's too much strain on your knees, and we'll figure out a more comfortable position for you.

tdm#4 // flower shenanigans.

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like... july 28th? after transformations in any case

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