[Right now. But you know he's counting collectively, Charlie. You have to know. Just because he's not the worst regnant in existence doesn't mean him being one can be excused so easily.
Miraj takes things seriously. Miraj rarely takes a night off, and when he does it's only after much cajoling and some event that would be cause to force him to decompress. That he lets his responsibilities settle on him physically shouldn't be too much of a surprise, and he's more than happy to allow Charlie to use their shared connection to home to make assumptions as to why he's so tense.
And why it continues to linger stubbornly, even through insistent touch, even though the massage does, admittedly, feel nicer than expected. Cold hands in stark contrast to warmed oil, supernatural strength allowing him to press hard without much pain... it's almost enough to actually get him to begin to relax, ever so slightly.]
You are. [The annoying, nagging need for worship and affection ebbing away tells him as much, even if he was reluctant to acknowledge it, and there's little harm in admitting it out loud once asked.
He even nearly has the impulse to settle in further, to lean against the arm of the chaise and try to ignore that the whole interaction was contrived and forced.
But, of course, that's impossible. The reminder of what this place is like hits him like ice, and any tenseness worked out of coiled muscle returns in spades.]
I'd gathered as much. That was... the intent of the auction itself, was it not? [To force the new deities into a subservient role for a time. It wasn't lost on him that the existing dynamic he'd had with Charlie - and Charlie's own proclivities - had been all that had prevented some stranger from making their own advances and thensome already.]
Would... that please you?
[The question is a little quieter than it should have been, given how ridiculous it was clear Charlie thought the proposition was, and it comes a little faster than it should have, as well. Surely that can just be chalked up to the dynamic forced upon them by this place - sure, Charlie was sucking up by playing to the pseudo-worship, but that also wasn't the intent of the purchase, and something had, apparently, lost patience, or so it would seem.
But we can put the LaSombra brattiness back up as a shield.]
no subject
Miraj takes things seriously. Miraj rarely takes a night off, and when he does it's only after much cajoling and some event that would be cause to force him to decompress. That he lets his responsibilities settle on him physically shouldn't be too much of a surprise, and he's more than happy to allow Charlie to use their shared connection to home to make assumptions as to why he's so tense.
And why it continues to linger stubbornly, even through insistent touch, even though the massage does, admittedly, feel nicer than expected. Cold hands in stark contrast to warmed oil, supernatural strength allowing him to press hard without much pain... it's almost enough to actually get him to begin to relax, ever so slightly.]
You are. [The annoying, nagging need for worship and affection ebbing away tells him as much, even if he was reluctant to acknowledge it, and there's little harm in admitting it out loud once asked.
He even nearly has the impulse to settle in further, to lean against the arm of the chaise and try to ignore that the whole interaction was contrived and forced.
But, of course, that's impossible. The reminder of what this place is like hits him like ice, and any tenseness worked out of coiled muscle returns in spades.]
I'd gathered as much. That was... the intent of the auction itself, was it not? [To force the new deities into a subservient role for a time. It wasn't lost on him that the existing dynamic he'd had with Charlie - and Charlie's own proclivities - had been all that had prevented some stranger from making their own advances and thensome already.]
Would... that please you?
[The question is a little quieter than it should have been, given how ridiculous it was clear Charlie thought the proposition was, and it comes a little faster than it should have, as well. Surely that can just be chalked up to the dynamic forced upon them by this place - sure, Charlie was sucking up by playing to the pseudo-worship, but that also wasn't the intent of the purchase, and something had, apparently, lost patience, or so it would seem.
But we can put the LaSombra brattiness back up as a shield.]
It won't help either of us if it wouldn't.