Every time she looked over her shoulder, he would see a grin.

It only got bigger every time. By the time she turned on her heel to scream at him, he had a shit eating grin that

Then she turned on her heel to face him, and he began to tentatively smile again-

So she threw damning words at his face, in public, in broad daylight, while surrounded by a crowd.

He thought the words 'southern belle' suited her far too well.

Hmm? Her accusations? Oh, right, her accusations! He broke into a slow mo sprint after her, raising his voice even higher than hers!

"And I'll do it aga'n, too!" He said immediately, picking just the right words to make it all worse, his already existing southern accent kicked up several notches to full redneck.

"Don't pretend like ya didn't likeit, lassie! Don't ever mess with a southerner if ya ain't ready for the consequences-! Oh, chorizo and cream cheese, please." He said, peering over her shoulder into the stand, completely ignoring the crowd of onlookers as they attempted to decide whether the police should be called for sexual abuse or disruption of peace.

"... Where were we again?" He said in a mutter, scratching at his chin. Oh, right! "Husband, schmuckband! Try finding a boyfriend before worrying about such things, lass!"

... Not that he was offering or anything.

Wait, this was a date. Never mind, he was totally offering.

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TAG: chryssa glasgow

"Could think'o at least one." He said, face set into a overblown sneer as he snatched plastic cutlery, spinning the plastic, borderline useless knife into a reverse grip. "Ya think those fools can save ya, Empress? Mufu... fuhu... huhahaha! Maybe I oughta call ya Princess instead, with all'em fairy tales stuck in yer head!"

They were stealing the show, but only they could decide if this was a good thing. People were giving them all manner of stares. Judgmental stares, amused stares, mocking stares, knowing stares...

Interested stares. But that would be a story for another day.

Lunches in hand, they began making their way to his camp. His arm had been held out and free for grabs since they set out, and he almost smiled when she wrapped her own around it. He couldn't quite manage however, wondering if she was feeling fine.

She was fine enough to keep their game going, if nothing else. Doing his best to support most of her weight, he smirked at her, evil brimming from his every features.

"Only the pretty ones." He said, chuckling darkly. "Caveman is an apter comparison than ya realize, princess."

Luckily for Chryssa, the youth hadn't been overselling the proximity. The location of his camp was as nearby as it was surely illegal.

A campfire was at the center of the camp, his tent nearby, a large structure made of green fabric. Large Tree trunks had been cut down and turned into benches, with a Centiskorch resting around the campfire, wrapped around it snugly, seemingly asleep.

"Well that ain't much o' a guard." Said Doug with a huff, lips pulled into a displeased curl at the member of his invincible Hive sleeping on the job. "... Oh well."

He wasn't about to wake 'im up. He looked so peaceful!

"Welcome ... to my warcamp, my prisoner." He said, grinning at Chryssa before holding up his lunchbag. "Shall we eat before starting... negotiations?"

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TAG: chryssa glasgow

"Just to torment ya further, I shall reveal that information! So secret it is, that not even my own Hive members know for certain!" He said as he dropped besides her onto the bench.

To prevent her from escaping, as she so brazenly threatened to do, obviously.

"Matter of fact? Not even I know! The tunnels are so numerous as to be uncountable! Mufufu... huhuha... hahahahahaha!"

He didn't even cough this time, well practiced laughter flowing out of his maw as he scuttled closer to her, his thigh bumping against hers as his laughter began to calm down, the youth sobering up from their little game.

It was a bit hard to remain in character when even Chryssa broke hers.

"'How' serious?" He said, echoing her question with a chuckle as he reached up for his hat, finding his head empty. Right. Suit. "Well, suffice to say, if I just wanted to hang out, I would've asked to hang out."

He had never cared much for beating around the bush.

"I always enjoy my time with ya, and I think ye'r cute." He said bluntly, shrugging his shoulders with a grin.

He didn't expect anything to happen, and he welcomed it if it did.

"And 'course I'm bein' flirty." He said, winking as he opened his bag and produced his sandwich. "I'm addin' a lil' more depth to the King's & Empress dynamic, 's all."

He snickered.

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TAG: chryssa glasgow

It was all part of the performance, he knew, the fluttery eyes, the flirtations and the southern belle tones.

But it still did the job on him, warmth building up in his chest, the youth pretending to rub and stretch his neck to look away after feeling his face heat up.

He brought his own sandwich to his face and began eating, perhaps a step or two faster than the girl, suddenly feeling both hungry and in need of a distraction.

Usually he did all the teasing. Seemed like he couldn't take what he dished.

He was about to shove the entire sandwich down his throat at that realization when Chryssa suddenly spoke, the youth stopping short of another bite as he glanced her way.

He swallowed, then spoke.

"Prerequisites?" He said, echoing her.

Three impossible tasks?

That... truly did suited them, didn't it?

"Hoh." He uttered after a moment, bringing what remained of his sandwich to his mouth and swallowing it whole before crossing his arms over his chest and grinning at her, lookin' as if taking those words as a challenge.

"I expected nothin' less from my greatest rival." He said, standing up to swing a leg atop the tree trunk before settling back down, now fully facing the girl, one hand coming to his hip while the other was laid on the bark, the youth leaning forward.

"Name these tasks, Empress of the Seas."

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TAG: chryssa glasgow

“Find me a song where you never hear the ending.
Find me a bond that binds without bending,
And find me a silence that resists all pretending.”

He echoed for what must have been the umpteenth time that night, laying inside his tent and staring holes into the tent walls as if it held all the answers.

But then and now, he couldn't really focus on the worlds themselves, nor whatever hidden meaning they might yet hide. His thoughts kept going back to the gleam in her eye, the softness of her hair against his collar, her hesitation, that unknown look-!

"... Nnnghgraaah!" The youth released a garbled mess of a groan as he grabbed the pillow beneath his head and threw it across the tent, once again catching himself doing anything but dissecting the Empress' riddle.

The pillow bounced off the wall harmlessly, accomplishing absolutely nothing.

Much like he had for the past 10 hours since the girl had escaped, leaving him with a riddle, a beating chest, and a panini wrapper.

His lip curling, the youth dropped back limply onto his bedroll, an arm over his forehead as he once again went back to staring holes onto his tent.

He had underestimated her, perhaps the seriousness of what he was asking as well. But... he didn't feel he was doing any of this on a whim.

"... How do I do this?" He asked to no one in particular, his voice ringing hollow inside the tent.

But- did he even want to figure it out?

'You might understand me enough to reconsider.'

... Yes, he did. His brows furrowed as he rolled back those words again and again.

"Don't sell yourself so short, Empress."

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TAG: chryssa glasgow