Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Down on the West Coast, They Got Their Ticons

Indeed, Corellia was known for its more independent ways and boisterous people, and the scarred face of the commander bore testament to that, if her accent did not give her away. It was more of an untamed, flagrant intonation, while Lasedri's was a purebred dialect, forged on this Core world and weened on flowery and political nonsense. And while Gen might be known to raise her nose at the less proper accentuation, today she wanted nothing more than to be smothered with it. And who knew what wild was in store from a Corellian banshee like this one? "Give me..." she sighed after the next release, curiosity well beyond piqued. All had been wonderful enough as it was, and she practically purred in delight with each wandering touch from Ticon. She felt beautiful for once.

She gladly accepted the handhold, though her fingers only timidly curled between the other's at first. It was a gesture she had not experienced since before her teens, and every knew one in this set of moments had brought her down further and further into a state of ignorance towards the galaxy at large, and her entire focus on the kisses of a woman she had only just met within the hour. To let sensation overwhelm her like this was uncharacteristic, and Geneviève could not care any less about whatever was supposed to be going on. It was time to be selfish. "I've had eight years to talk about things like clone armies," she countered, casually laying the hilt of her visitor's weapon in a flowering pot of plants as they passed through the doorway. Out of sight and out of mind. "It can wait."

Geneviève's Chandrilan suite was not exactly big, but she liked a simple and quiet place out here, where she could muse and pretend the war was not about to destroy the home she hated to confess that she truly loved. And it was the perfect place to birth some form of love--or obsession, at least. With careful grace that was unheard of, the Prime Minister escorted her guest by their locked hands and brought her to her bedroom; their bedroom, if she had any say in the matter. "It's no good having such a big bed all to oneself, anyway." She closed the door behind them with a hushed swing and clenched her fingers tighter into their places between Keira's

And now she waited for Keira's guidance.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
It was funny how gentle one so well-adjusted and finely tuned to violence could be when granted the opportunity. And that's what Keira was with Gen - gentle, as if one jarring move would shatter the moment like glass so erroneously handled. For her to be so careful with anyone or anything was a rarity, more so if she had only just met the individual in question. But all rational thought regarding the dangers inherent in such a brash interaction had been disregarded long ago, replaced by the pure impurity of sheer want and desire. The only thing she was entirely conscious of was the brush of fingertips and lips across skin and hands wandering where they wouldn't have been permitted in any other scenario.

There was no proper way of determining just how long the two of them tumbled through the sheets, but she knew for certain that she had never been more blissfully carefree in her entire life. Nothing could take away from the moment, and her typical self-consciousness seemed all but non-existent. Anything and everything was pushed under the rug, the only thing capturing her attention being the woman whose presence she basked in. For a few minutes all she did was lay there in that comfortable silence, blankets pulled up over her chest and one arm tucked behind her head. In that moment it seemed as if the two of them were infinite, and it was a feeling she never wanted to end.

One hand reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind Gen's ear before taking her hand again, their fingers seeming to clasp together more naturally now. Mottled eyes took in the other woman for all that she was, this supposedly hardened warhawk that had taken so easily and quickly to a far gentler embrace, her nature now far more tame than what others would get the opportunity to so much as glimpse at in their lifetimes. It was this softened, still rough around the edges toughness that she found beauty in, and a small smile formed at the corners of her mouth as she traced a pattern on Gen's hand with her thumb, each motion careful. "Bel."

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]
 
It was quite possibly the most frightening thing she had committed to, and yet there was nothing but wondrous sensation throughout it all--contradictory violent serenity. While Geneviève was no expert on the subject, it seemed obvious to her that Keira knew her way around well enough. It was as much a learning experience as it was a physically engaging, fantastic one. There was no doubt in her mind in the depth of their heated fervor that she had been craving this sort of touch for a reason. And considering how enveloping and fun it had been, the Chandrilan hoped she would have this Corellian at her disposal for a long time. It was a body and a touch she would not forget.

It was all lust in the night, but there had been a bond of a sort present enough in the beginning to serve as catalyst. Geneviève hoped to skim and dive into that further, if only her night's partner would stay. Stay, stay, stay... her mind repeated, half-open brown eyes analyzing each fleck of Keira's face and hands interlocked again as they lay, the Minister's free arm firmly anchoring her to her across the concealed chest of the commander. Another warm body in bed only made her feel spoiled, and she clung to it like a child to a stuffed animal.

"Stay..." she breathed, accepting the soft compliment that she had interpreted from the Corellian and returning it with a gentle kiss to the shoulder and then one to the cheek. "Will you stay? I want you. Just you." While generally a very private and personally cautious person, Gen had been lonely for far too long to simply let this go. Someone had cared enough about her for one night--even if it was just to take advantage of the offer of flesh--and that mattered the galaxy to her. For once, she felt happy.

"Please take me." Hardly sweet nothings. She was not one to deal in flattery, as so many already were aware. Neither was she known to expose herself, either in the mental or physical sense. But here she was, wearing nothing but bedsheets and a beautiful woman. No, she truly wanted to be with this one. "Love."

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
Never in her life had Keira felt truly and genuinely beautiful or wanted in any manner. Not in the way that mattered and went far deeper than what she could do for others. Here was someone that wanted her for all she was and all she could ever be, someone that made her forget about what she had done and the scars that marred her skin, at least for a little while. It was a welcome distraction to the hurricane of her thoughts, the warm exhalations of breath on bare skin as the other woman spoke a pleasant sensation. A slow smile crept up onto her face, and she adjusted her position so that she would face Gen by lying on her side, never leaving her embrace, refusing to do so.

Almost clumsily their noses bumped together as a reassuring kiss was exchanged, the gesture childlike in its innocence if it wasn't for naught but the thin fabric of bedsheets covering the pair. "I'll stay. I'm staying." Her lips seemed to move of their own accord down her newfound lover's jaw, across her collarbone to her shoulder, a final kiss being pressed to the back of her hand. The quiet whispers resembled so closely the words she had spoken to another in a moment of weakness and desperation, I want you to stay with me. Please. I don't think I can be alone yet. That same feeling resurfaced here, though with more rounded edges and a somehow less selfish motive behind it.

Legs tangled together beneath the covers, the intimacy now present less wanton in nature, possessing a will to take things slowly where once things had been moving too quickly to process. With her free hand she reached up to gently trace along the edges of Gen's jaw, teasing a few strands of dark hair as her hand shifted to gently rest on the back of the Minister's neck, a tender gesture most would have never expected her to be capable of. She seemed to concentrate in those moments as if afraid too rough a motion would reveal this to be nothing more than a waking daydream. If that was truly the case, reality paled in comparison.

"I won't leave you. I don't want to leave you, min larel."

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]
 
Geneviève's neck craned and head tossed back in exhilaration with each peck Keira landed, returning the favor with a kiss to the forehead as she lightly raked a few fingers through her tousled bed hair. Her ears hung on every syllable of breathy speech, and her lungs quivered in reflex to the triggers. "Larel. Min larel." Geneviève repeated, finding the words just as serene as the accent with which Keira uttered her tender words--in contrast with her roughened physicality. Gen had unlocked a sweet, timid girl underneath a brutal facade--and such was mutual.

"When can you move in?" It was an honest question, but she could not help a mischievous grin that spread from cheek to cheek, and Gen placed her finger against Keira's lips playfully though quite serious about her request. "But don't tell anyone. Not yet." Though Gen wondered who may have heard their noises in the night. She really had tried to be quiet, but the sensations in her bedded experience had been overwhelmingly lush.

The Prime Minister lifted the covers just enough to peek underneath and estimate the dimensions of her bed partner's figure--though she hardly needed to do so, having romped around for quite a few hours with this fine body at her disposal, even if she had been shy about it at first. But there was no reason she could not appraise things again. Her hand glided down the abdomen of the woman after she allowed the blanket to fall back upon their skin, memorizing ever centimeter of the woman. "You're about my size. You can borrow my clothes. Anything you like except my hat." They should get up, shower, and change. But Gen did not want to.
[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
The accent those words of affection were echoed in, while largely incorrect in its intonation, was endearing in its own manner all the same. "We'll have to work on your pronunciation later." There was a casual inflection required to speak the language properly, and that was a side of Gen she could see slowly emerging. Another side of the Prime Minister had been revealed, one that entirely opposed what she supposed was a generally professional outlook. "Min larel." The phrase was repeated again, a manifestation of her own sweet nothings, and perhaps an effort to teach the other as well. Another sentence had almost passed her lips, one comprised of three words and one she wasn't sure she knew the definition of yet.

That secret smile was returned, and she pressed a gentle kiss to the finger placed over her lips, leaning in just slightly to brush one across Gen's cheek as well. "That depends on how soon you want me to." There were other details to finalize, after all, beyond her simply ceasing to live at Spaarti Headquarters on Cartao. Because now she had others to worry about, not just herself and her own needs. "My younger sister's living with me on Cartao right now, so I'd have to figure something out for her." Not wanting to put too much of a downer on things, she next kissed her forehead. "And don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Not until you're ready." And for once that was a request she would abide by entirely.

Goosebumps raised on her skin at the feeling of the other woman's hand gliding across her body even through the blankets, and she flashed a crooked smile, teeth scraping across Gen's lower lip as they embraced yet again. Maybe it was the simple newness of it, or the fact that she felt her feelings reciprocated for once, but she couldn't seem to get enough of this sort of physical contact where she had once despised it wholeheartedly. Perhaps letting someone in wasn't quite so bad after all. Not if it felt this good. "We should see about getting ready, then." She levered herself up into a sitting position, taking no care and letting the covers fall where they may. "Besides, there's always showering together."

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]
 
Gen chanted the phrase to herself a few times more, wanting to at least master this one simple term of affection. It seemed like a link to the Corellian. Odd, since she had never really been the sentimental type. But maybe that was what had been wrong with her this whole time. Had she really found love? Was this the one thing she had truly desired since she was young?

Geneviève pursed her lips at the mention of extra 'baggage', even though she had some of her own to eventually bring up. Some who did their research knew about Miria (It was impossible for a high-profile individual to conceal an official adoption, after all.) but the girl was kept out of things often enough that most were unaware of her existence. A younger sister could be a hassle, but everything was not clear-cut on the Lasedri side of things, either. "It's in your hands. Expense is not an issue, no matter your choice." Although the hastiness of this all was certainly worthy of doubt. But Gen had given enough time to being alone that a couple warm bodies were welcome additions to the picture--especially if she got to handle this particular one every night. (Oh, she wanted to touch her and be touched by her all over the place.) Almost nonchalantly, Gen added, "And when you want to get married--we can do that part whenever you are ready."

The Prime Minister sighed but was in agreement with Keira's conclusion. "Yes, I suppose we should return to discussing clone things..." she murmured, tracing the contours of the other's form with a stray index finger. "And you need a wash after touching me." She leaned across Keira's midriff to apply yet another kiss to her stomach before finally--though grudgingly--rolling out from under the sheets and exiling herself from bed. She made way to her wardrobe and proffered a pair of bathrobes and carried them towards the bathroom with a smirk. "...Not that I'm looking forward to you being dressed again."

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
As quickly as everything was moving, the prospect of marriage didn't seem to extend too far into the future. They were two broken individuals that were fundamentally broken in their own unique manner, so it was only fitting that they found their whole together. The thought of being joined in such a superficially intrinsic manner to another sentient was something Keira desired that she could never imagine willing in her entire life. There had always been better things to do, but after spending time with Gen that others hadn't had so much as a chance at she had begun to look at everything differently. Maybe others weren't so wrong in their wants. Of course, that sentiment could have just as easily been brought on by their shared shower.

More time was spent in the procured bathrobes than some would have deemed appropriate for one within their standing, but the both of them were well beyond following proper procedure. Eventually, however, clothes had to be donned, and she had taken the other woman's offer into consideration, now wearing an outfit that wasn't of her typical dress but fit near-perfectly in every other respect. Normally she wouldn't have gone so far as to do such a thing, but this was just another way in which she could be close to Gen without necessarily having to demonstrate blatant physical affection. That didn't, of course, prevent her from snaking her arms around the other from behind and tracing her lips down the curve of her jaw.

There again those three words almost broke past her lips into the physical realm, but she stayed her tongue and held herself back. Things might have been moving quickly, but that was a concept she wasn't near familiar enough with. "What more clone things would you like to discuss, then?" The inquiry was posed in hushed tones, and she stepped around to gently take the Minister's hand in a gesture that would abash the public eye, no doubt. It seemed that they had already covered every subject rather intimately, but she supposed the spoken word better sufficed for some topics. "That is, assuming we can hold that conversation for any amount of time."

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]
 
Every moment with her seemed to flow so slowly yet end far too quickly, their youthful time in the shower more focused on appreciating each other's bodies in their wet shimmer than actually cleaning anything. It also allowed for Geneviève to exhibit her own scars tracing along her abdomen and at the back of her shins--most likely already observed in time with their spectacular bedplay, but also easier to forget in the fervor. Not that Gen did not take advantage of the situation from her knees. An unlocked, bright smile made itself at home upon her face, and though she was by no means what one would consider to be a girly-girl, Geneviève felt sincere enjoyment of each second as she helped pick out an outfit and brush Keira's hair--and also lathered her with kisses.

It was entirely possible that she had already kissed this woman (who had miraculously sprung from mere acquaintance to lover over the course of a night in action) more times than she had ever kissed her parents in total. How she made her feel so good! The tender traversing down her jawline loosed the air from her lungs and brought the true color out of her eyes, which rolled back behind half-closed lids as she shivered and craned her neck in pleasure. It was not a gentle, sensual touch one would expect but the external appraisal of the Ticon, but neither would one expect such a softness from Lasedri.

"queen, you're dangerous," Gen moaned, taking her attacker's arms captive for a moment. "So perfect." Not in the sense of morality, but she knew she just fit with this one. There would never be another person who could capture her eye and soul like she had so haphazardly allowed with Keira, and it was not only out of attraction but out of a self-preservation instinct that she would do whatever it took to keep the woman to herself alone.

"Timing." Was that not what had made or broken everything in her life? Timing was essential to Rebellion attacks. Timing had brought her to victory in her election. Timing for her father's death had brought her low. And now timing in meeting this gorgeous human being... Even the timing of the passionate handhold. It all counted for something. "Time is nigh and we just have to pinpoint when the traitors are at their most vulnerable. And then I'm going to march with your beautiful ass."

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
Despite the numerous stereotypes that pursued one of Corellian blood, Keira was possessed of a certain intellectualism when she so chose to exercise it to a higher degree. Thus her only immediate response to the plans laid by the Prime Minister was a nod that seemed half distracted. After all, the reactions her demonstrations of affection elicited were far more interesting, and worth more attention. But just as with every new vice she had to maintain self-control, however tenuous that balance really was. This business regarding the traitors to the Republic was likely more important in the long run, however much she just wanted to push it aside. But one thing drew her back to it. "The Jedi." It was a statement of fact, as they both knew to whom she had been referring.

Leaning in she closed the gap between them for a brief second, not allowing herself to become completely enraptured in the moment as she had the night previously. What was most intriguing was that Gen had deemed the Jedi useful in their discussion the day before, but now seemed bent on bringing them down as soon as was possible, bringing to mind the piece of galactic history that had transpired nearly the name over one thousand years earlier, though their had likely been a touch less romance involved. "Why? You said yourself they were useful to a point earlier, and that we should be careful about eliminating them so soon." Not that she was complaining. It would be nice to exercise her ability unrestrained once more.

"If we're going to be marching soon we need to brief the men and mobilize. They aren't going to let us walk in and kill them all, and we don't have a protocol in place to make it easy like they did when this happened before." There was no point in sugarcoating things, and she didn't so much as make an attempt to disguise what their true intentions were in this imminent attack on the very Order that had worked to preserve the Republic for so long. She had never found herself in agreement with them on any front, and if she was given permission to march on their Temple by the Prime Minister herself then there was no reason to question the woman. Not if she was just as at ease with the choice.

"And you know, perfect's not a word we often used on Corellia." Mostly because no one on the planet ever fit the label in any sense. Other values were held much higher. "Being rough around the edges is a lot more appealing." Another kiss, this one far less restrained, though it still withheld a measure of control that was up to the other woman to shatter completely if she so chose.

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]
 
"Not all Jedi are traitors. Some are simply deceived." The Jedi Order was a lie if it was so cowardly. Defend the weak? Only the Republic and those loyal to it were carrying that standard anymore. Those who were strong needed to assert their power to protect the poor and build them up as well. Give unto those according to their need as your ability dictates. "Bring the latter to the light. They'll be invaluable when they awaken.

"The most complete victories start from the inside." Why do you think the Republic is where it is now? Was she helping it out? Perhaps not in this moment as she stared into the sultry blue eyes situated just a few centimeters from her own. Had Keira been sent to seduce her? If that was the case, then the Republic could go to hell as long as this spark between them was genuine. The greater good--what did that mean now? Someone else always had a Galactic Alliance moving into the neighborhood for their own version of the 'greater good'. All Geneviève wanted now was to be great; to win; to love.

The words she wanted to say--perhaps in haste--lapped at her teeth like a flood against a dam as she was taken again by her unrelenting attacker. Was it too soon when one did not even know love before? What made love? "Siren."

The gates of her mouth pressed tenderly against the neck, then the jaw; the cheeks, then the nose, and finally the wonderful lips of her guest-turned-partner. "I adore your edges, rough or soft. You're perfect enough for me," Gen retorted, lightly tracing the lines of Keira's scars with a finger before her hands wandered from the back of Keira's neck to the back of her waist, fingers curling in transformation from stroking to groping, desire still unimaginably powerful between the two. It was practically a game to see how long she could resist, for Gen knew that she could hardly hold out much longer before she was pressing to get back in the other woman's pants. The Prime Minister may have always been known as a crass speaker, but she was veritably no seductress. Not until now, at least. "Did you like it? Do I need to practice more?

"You make beautiful sounds."

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
"We don't have the time nor the means to split hairs anymore." They never did, but Keira wouldn't bother going so far as to specify that. It was far from the time to be lenient or peruse over the specifications of each and every member of the Order as to their offenses. Truly, there was no light to bring them to when one didn't believe it existed in the first place. But she would do as Gen said, though whether that was out of genuine respect for her command or more indulgent desires was up to the party evaluating the scenario. "They aren't going to begin thinking differently one day out of the blue. I've been on the good and bad sides of enough Jedi to know that much. It's not that simple." But the other likely knew that, or she wouldn't have made the suggestion.

A civil war of this sort likely wouldn't be all bad. Some amount of conflict was necessary in order for an individual to grow, or maybe that was just the teachings of her old mentor coming forth. "Instigating a civil war could just as easily divide the Republic as unite it. But we don't have much choice, with how this war is going." The Republic had never had much of a choice in any matter, as they always seemed to be the party at a disadvantage when compared to every other galactic power. But this talk of politics and military strategy only interested her so much when there were other distractions to attend to that warranted a more careful touch. If this march was to happen, she would be ready. But until then...

Apprehension of some sort could be sensed emanating from the other woman, and she could sense something more lingering beneath that simmering surface of want and desire. It was a need to say those same words she had been so close to murmuring late the previous night, when limbs were still entangled and one body was indistinguishable from the next. This morning again it had resurfaced, when water sluiced down bare skin in warm rivulets. Here again it emerged, but just as those times before she stayed her tongue, settling for other, less permanent sweet nothings, though none of them communicated quite the same emotion that no amount of physical intimacy could effectively communicate.

The feeling of fingers tracing over scar tissue was at once strange and alluring, the lack of sensation across certain areas only leaving her craving more. Lips explored exposed skin as if it was an entirely new sight, and her breath hissed gently from between her teeth before once again they kissed, hands tangling in the dark hair of the Minister, fingertips gently tracing patterns across the back of her neck. "You're perfect to me. Everything about you is perfect to me." Most definitely not in the traditional sense, but perfect wasn't a word used conventionally by either of them, simply because they were far from the conventional sort.

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]
 
"Ultimatums are always good for bringing out the true spirit in a being." Push a man to his limits, and the true man will come out. What sits in the well will eventually arise with the pail. All sorts of metaphors could be used to convey the truth behind her words, but the morality of such a tactic was questionable at best. There was nothing less than pure passion speaking in this moment, and one might argue Lasedri was not thinking clearly. She could possibly agree to even murder someone at this point for no reason other than the fact that she was enveloped in the unexpected grace and seductiveness of the woman in her arms. Lust--in its many forms--was perhaps the most powerful force in the universe. "We'll just have to smoke them out when the time is right. It's just not time. Not yet."

"I'd rather not have a civil war. We've got enough fronts as things are. But a small disturbance from within could steer the people's trust towards us and their frustrations at the group that has truly failed." One does not choose to live for morose stagnation. Her own words eternalized both digitally and on the paper of millions of books found lying in the reaches of the galaxy. One thin Geneviève Lasedri was not: a hypocrite. Or so she believed. "There will be quite the commotion, but we will have to capitalize by maintaining morale. It won't be easy. We need a victory of some sort--whether it's real or fabricated." A leader is a dealer in hope.

Being called perfect was a unique experience to Gen. It was actually the very first time anyone had told her that. Her mother and father had always found some part of her appearance or behavior that needed improvement, her violin teacher had never been pleased with her play, and her political career was hardly lauded by the public. It was a constant, fruitless pursuit to become perfect in this sense or another. To be called perfect for doing absolutely nothing meant the universe to her, and her pupils dilated and whatever blood was not already concentrated in her head rushed to her cheeks as she realized just what this person already meant to her after but a day's time of familiarity.

Keira filled the gaps in both her emotional bank and her physical body, heavenly kisses landing all over her head, shoulders, neck, and chest, and Geneviève's own returned the favor in what seemed to be a fluidly coordinated dance. Her heart beat fast, and soon she found herself lifting the woman by the thighs and carrying her over to the couch where she laid her down, shoving her body atop the other. "Say, 'stop,'" Gen ordered, contrarily pressing her muzzle into Keira's neck as a stray hand found the other's waist. "We're not being very professional."

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
If ultimatums were good for one thing, it was either immediately instigating or resolving conflict. Rarely was there ever an in between, and Keira had witnessed enough of the former to already have an idea of how everything would transpire within the Republic. There was no concise ending to this tale, no happily ever after in sight. As always they would have to fight for some semblance of peace, that act an irony in and of itself. How fitting that it rarely ever worked, besides. If this issue with the Jedi was going to end anywhere, it would be fractured and in pieces. "We don't want to approach the issue quite so bluntly. Or maybe we do. But the key isn't to start a feud with them straight away." Or maybe it was.

"You're going to have some kind of war, if this goes even remotely how I predict it to. The Jedi have always had more supporters than dissenters, whether within the Republic or without. Everyone fears the Sith, so they turn to the only thing that can combat them. And that's where the Jedi ultimately fall. Most of them don't fight. That's why the Black Flag order only drove them further away. They believe the Sith can be redeemed." The only kind of redemption she or the Minister offered was one accompanied by a very dead Sith lying in a pool of blood. Nothing else would suffice. "Expectations need to be made clear. If they can't meet them in terms of this war and supporting the Republic, they'll be dealt with accordingly."

Taking the position of a subordinate in any sense of the word, no matter the scenario, was oftentimes not something she found herself willingly entering into. What with the utter lack of control that had been her life for years she was loathe to allow anyone to direct her in any manner, regardless of their station in comparison to her own. But she was content to let Gen do what she would, and maybe that was the key to this thing called love. Perhaps a willingness to expose oneself not just physically, but emotionally as well, was the end all in the unobtainable warmth she had been subconsciously striving for. Was this what had been described to her as a child? She could only hope so.

The fluttering heartbeat that could be felt even through the few layers that separated them drew a smile from her, and she gently traced the outline of Gen's hip with her thumb, allowing her teeth to graze gently along the other woman's jaw, the soft press of her lips that followed shortly after alleviating whatever unpleasant sensations that were garnered. Just as quickly as appropriate conversation had been struck it was cast aside once more, and whatever attempts were made to recover it were feeble, and only half-attempts at that. "I don't think I want you to stop." Not that there was much rational thinking involved at this point. "Not yet."

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]
 
"We will just have to take the best opportunity at the precise moment afforded us." That was how life worked out overall, was it not? Nothing truly happened without a little help from an outside force intangible and unknowable. Never underestimate the importance of luck. Like being rescued at the brink of death. Like finding a company of pilots to forge a rebellion. Like taking the polls by storm when it would never have worked at any other time. Like running into a young girl who would give her meaning. Like finding a beautiful woman to care about when she needed her most.

The Prime Minister sighed exuberantly in sync with the sensation running through what had practically been untapped nerves as moist, tender skin drew its path down her jaw. Her eyes closed and she released any mental hindrances to simply drink in the warm touch and bathe in this external affection that was soon to be gushing internally. No one else had ever made her feel this way, and she did not want anyone else to make her feel this way. Not after last night. But she wanted it again. "I'll deal with you accordingly," Gen sassed, grinning as she continued to bury her face into whatever areas of Keira's skin were exposed--and some areas unexposed. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Straddling her newfound partner, Geneviève was overwhelmed with passion and irrationality. What passed through her lips she did not know until after she had spoken the damning words. "I love you," she murmured, peering deeply into those speckled eyes of Keira's and memorizing the coordinates of each dim-yellow dot. A hand swept any stray, dark strands out of the commander's face, and Lasedri dove again, slowly attempting to unzip her pants without her knowing.

Kiss, kiss, kiss...

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
Love. Was this love? Is that what these releases of previously pent up emotion and desire added up to? Gen certainly knew better than she ever would, and so perhaps unwisely she let those words swell in her chest to give her simple existence more of a meaning than any that had been attributed to it in the past. The gentle caresses the two shared mutually were openly welcomed, and she thought that perhaps giving yourself so willingly to another in order to feel whole constituted as love of some kind. To know someone so intimately had to mean something more, didn't it? Keira liked to think that was the case, otherwise this time spent together was meaningless in itself.

The efforts made by the Minister weren't as subtle as she liked to think, but they were allowed, and she did nothing more than flash a smile - assuming they separated long enough for her to attempt even that. She didn't recognize the sensations coursing through her nervous system, but she knew they felt good, and that was enough. When at last they separated long enough for her to truly glimpse at this other half of a woman she had hardly known professionally, a warmth spread throughout her chest, a soft smile spreading across her lips. In the next second she pulled the other woman in for another kiss, tracing her fingers gently down her back, toying with the hem of her shirt.

Nothing really mattered anymore, not their positions in the Republic, not the war, not even the next words she spoke so freely where normally she would have shied away, "I love you too."

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]
 

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