Scene #1322:

Owner	Pose
Landon al Cid	The dormitories of Alexander Academy are a delightful affair. While Prince Landon doesn't actually keep a room there - both for safety and diplomatic reasons, as well as the ease of commute when you're royalty - he does occasionally spend time in the recreation room. Today, Landon happens to be lacking in classes, and he's not really super anxious to go home and hear about the problems with Shiva from another new perspective. So right now, he sits, alone, in the recreation room, reading a book on his mPhone. He's dressed in his Alexander Academy uniform rather than his heavy Judge armor, and is sprawled out on the couch, content in his relative privacy. Sure, people might come in sooner or later, but for now, he can just enjoy something he wouldn't really get back at Ramuh: peace and quiet. The noise of the palace has just been so stressful lately...
Cirra Constantine	The recreation room is shared between the two dormatories, and it should be no suprise that a girl eventually walks in. And It just happens to be Cirra. Wearing her own academy uniforn, she spots as she sees LAndon laying on the couch. She walks over and around - Landon is easy to sneak up on when he's reading. The silver haired Judge leans the back of the couch with hands pressed against the cushions, "One might think you're trying to give the wrong impression of Ramuh's future king." She looks down at LAndon from above. "You're lucky I'm the only one to see you like this."
Landon al Cid	"I'm /reading/," Landon replies, bristling, "I'm an educated king. I'm well-read. People like a well-read king. Father's well-read." As a point of fact, he's actually reading historical fiction. He turns off his mPad and sits up to look at her, a smile spreading across his face. "Though I admit I doubt that's why people like Father. Good afternoon, Cirra. Did you just finish your classes, or were you looking for me for some infernal lunch or another? I don't know how many more blushing debutantes and offended kiss-arse noble boys I can deal with this week before I simply lose my mind." He turns himself around on the couch and scoots over a bit for her. "Did you see the girl last week? With her nose turned up like she smelled something foul, falling all over herself to sit next to me during the Ifriti embarkation? Horrid. The voice of a screeching witch."
Cirra Constantine	"That's a spy thriller series about the first inter-plate war." Cirra is also an avid reader. "I'm done with classes for today." Cirra confirms as she comes around to sit on the couch properly. She sits with one leg tucked underneath the other, something she's always done. "And people like your father because he's honest, and so are you." She turns so her side is against the back of the couch. "Every nobel girl on Galianda has dreams that you'll sweep them off her feet Prince Landon." She smirks. "Worse still, they've all been taught that they have to catch your eye." "She did sound a bit like sand on glass though."
Landon al Cid	"It's an /interesting/ spy-thriller," Landon defends himself wryly as she sits down, "And reading is educational." He nods as she sits down, watching her for a moment. In the back of the mind, as almost always, he cursed his sisters, though his face remained a gentle smile. Damn them all. "I'm glad. We haven't had much time to spend together lately, have we?" He offers finally, looking up at the ceiling, "All this Extraversal Crisis nonsense, the Shivans, your qualification trials...it's been a while since we could just sit together. I..." He shifts a bit and looks embarassed in silence for a minute. "Speaking of," he abruptly changes the subject, "How did those go, anyway? Did you find a team to do them beforehand or did you join a running group that needed a third? I wanted to watch, but..." Landon frowns. "Shivans." After a moment, he shrugs and looks at the fireplace. "I suppose they have." "God, she was awful," he laughs again, "Not at all the kind of girl I'd like to have as my queen. All...screeching, unreasonable, mewling and useless..."
Cirra Constantine	Is Landon cursing his sisters, or /himself/? Cirra however occasionally curses the sisters because now her hair takes so long every morning. She smiles, these days it seems like she only smiles when she's alone with Landon. Everyone else has to see the Judge. "It has, don't worry about it. I managed to find most of a team ahead of time. The fourth slot was filled out by a Ronin that couldn't make it last year." Ronin, now there's a rare Job. Like a Samurai with a dash of gambler, always at the mercy of the winds of fate. No wonder they missed last year's exam. "I got a recording if you want to see." Cirra chuckles, "So you'd like a woman who's deceptively quiet, competant and coolheaded?" It seems like she might not know what she's suggesting.
Landon al Cid	He's cursing both. "Oh, that's good. A Ronin, really? That's rare. Poor fellow." Landon rubs his chin thoughtfully. "I do actually want to see it. I bet you did brilliantly. Besides, it's a B-rank exam, that's always impressive. I can't believe you did it so early, either. You always push yourself so hard." He's quiet for a moment before a wry grin spreads over his face. He looks over at the door, as if to make sure no one is around. THen he leans over and pushes her back onto the couch, his grin turning wild. "Oh yes. A cool-headed big-sister type who'd look very fine in a low-cut maidservant's uniform with a nice, high skirt. With long grey hair, and shining blue eyes, and a smile like an iron blade. That's exactly what I want in my Queen, Cirra Constantine. No giggling schoolgirls who think they can catch my eye with a nice dress and some cordial conversation. No fluffed-up dolls who want to be queen so badly they're stumbling over themselves without an ounce of grace so their family can hop in on the bloodline." His face takes on a disgusted look for a brief instant. Then he sits up, releasing her, and laughs, running his fingers through his hair. He notably doesn't look at her for a very long time, instead staring at the fireplace, as though embarassed. Then he shuffles his coat a bit. "So, erm..." He starts off, then stops. "So...um..." "...goodness, I've put myself at a loss for words." He laughs and looks up at the ceiling again. "Did you ever get a chance to read that book I recommended to you, the one about the Sniper who got lost on Ifrit and had to survive in the wilds for a whole year before he found his way to a dome?"
Cirra Constantine	Cirra reaches into a pocket, looking for the crystal she has her run recorded on, "I need to push myself. There are things out there I still can't protect you from-" They used to play games when they were younger, when Cirra was tomboyish and the difference in genders meant less about physcial contact. Later on Cirra grew breasts and that sort of changed. The point is the contact isn't jarring, she just gets pushed back into the couch and she stares up at him coolly as he runs down the list of his desires and her cheeks colour pink. But Landon backs off as quickly as he came on to her, and Cirra looks puzzeled, almost /maybe/ disapointed. She sits back up slowly. "Of course... It was quiet good." Cirra grabs Landon by the collar and pushes him back into the couch as she leans in close this time, eyes half lidded. "You should only say things that you mean, Landon."
Landon al Cid	The rules abruptly changing on you is hard for young people. It's also hard for Judges, since rules are so closely-tied to their purpose and skillset. But Landon had steeled himself, because Cirra was a girl who acted like a boy enough that he could do so. Then his sisters had come along and all the rules changed again, and suddenly, well...suddenly this sort of thing was happening. His face goes red. He doesn't struggle, not exactly, but his eyes flick towards the door, as if to make sure none of his well-meaning friends are going to come in, or any of their less-well-meaning peers. Then he looks back at her, then away again. Gently, he pushes her off him. "..." "...I..." He starts, then stops again. He slumps back against the back of the couch and looks up at the ceiling. "...I could never condemn someone I care about to that life. Mother seems as if she's aged five years since the start of the war. And you really are like a sister to me, Cirra." He makes a face. "You're more like a sister than my actual sisters, the nosy little brats. You deserve better. You deserve the best. You don't...want that kind of power." "...I don't want that kind of power," he admits quietly. He puts his arm over her shoulder and rests his head against her quietly. "Also, you should stop tasting my food. If you wind up poisoned I'll be very cross with you. I'll just get Kyra or Mirielle to teach me Esuna so I can cure myself. Fuel some more controversy about what my second Job is." He chuckles, leaning into her slightly. "...were I anyone else I would have said yes in a heartbeat," Landon adds finally, "I wouldn't've even thought about it." "...I'm sorry for teasing you."
Cirra Constantine	Damn you for being such a smooth talker and taking the political route, Cirra thinks. Pushed back, but then embraced with one arm, she queitly lets Landon lean his head against her. Judges are all about rules, but what are the rules of the heart? No one ever wrote those down. "You're my family." She reaches up and touches the side of Landon's head, "And I don't want to lose my family, I lost it once before." her fingers stroke through Landon's hair. "But you can't condem me to anything Landon, those are my choices to make. Not your's." "But since I can't make that choice, I'm going to keep eating your food so that you don't have to explain that to anyone." She turns her head towards his, "It's one of the few things I can do for you, to take that one bit of stress away."
Landon al Cid	Landon doesn't say anything. It's nice, for a bit. Just to sit there. Just to be somewhere without talking. Without...problems. Without Shivan war or Extraversals being (or causing) attacks or the political weight of the world on his shoulders. He leans against her in silence, his eyes shut, his arm around her shoulder. "I can't promise you won't lose me," he reminds her, "But I feel the same way." Then he chuckles, lightly. "No, but you and I both know Father would shame us both with the old Duty speech. Remember when he lectured us about setting an example for others when we were little, and my sisters convinced us we wanted extra cookies, too? It would be like that, but twice as guilt-inducing. All sorts of talk of important alliances and expanding the house and bloodlines and..." Landon laughs. "Gods, I can hear him now." He puffs out his face and does a convincingly good impression of Rycharde's sonorous, powerful voice. "I know that, raised in the same household, you two are comfortable with certain things others may not understand. I know that, being not of blood, you may have had certain urges. But you must remember that you are not merely children. You are the future of the al Cid house. Your choices reflect upon the world you're going to help forge. And you," Landon turns to Cirra, his face still puffed out a bit, "Are the one entrusted with the safety of that bloodline. With that all-important promise and the alliances it will forge to strengthen Ramuh and the crown. With /my son/. You cannot possibly imagine that it was a good idea to do...to..." Landon's face goes red and his face deflates. "...to...do whatever it was we did that they caught us doing," he finishes lamely, his voice turning back to normal, "Probably something...um..." He coughs and looks up at the ceiling. "Probably something indecent and lacking in virtue," he observes. "...like stealing the cookie jar." Landon shifts. "...goodness, saying it after something like that just sounds...well, sort of /wrong/, doesn't it?"
Cirra Constantine	At first Cirra looks down as Landon says she might lose him. But then smiles, geniunely smiles as Landon does an impression of his father. It's such a rare thing to see her do, and it always seems to happen when Landon is being himself. When Landon starts to get flustered she laughs, it's a sound like crystal being struck and she has to cover her mouth with one hand until she calms down enough to lean over and whisper. "It's called sex." she pats his arm, "And I've never believed it was lacking in virtue. Only that people who /lack/ virtue look for it in the wrong places."
Landon al Cid	"I know what it's called!" Landon answers, his face hot as he turns to look at her, "I'm not an uneducated child. But..." Landon sighs, looks down, and then immediately looks up at the ceiling. "Well, you know. Bloodlines. Claims. All that...all that stuff," Landon mutters, sound not-terribly-convincing, "Besides, Father would /never/ say the word aloud. You know that." He grins at her. "He'd say something like '/carnal indulgence/ or /risking a potential inheritance crisis' or something like that, but he'd just dart around the actual problem like he does when he's really upset. Remember how he wouldn't even call the cookie jar a cookie jar? It's like he speaks in metaphors." He beams at the warm memory. "And then Mother gave us extra cookies anyway because we hadn't argued with him." "...I miss when we were young," he admits, "I miss when we had time to play around and when important state dinners were rare. Do you know how long it's been since we really had that kind of free time? Can you even remember? It must've been years. Before you got..." He keeps staring at the ceiling. "...curvy," he settles on finally, "And...soft. And pretty. And all those things that make my life complicated around my best friend." "...damn but I hate being seventeen," Landon groans, his hands going to his forehead. "Can we talk about something else? I know it's hard to think about anything else, but can we /talk/ about something else? It might help." His hands settle in his lap, and he wrings them momentarily. "Have you been anywhere interesting lately?"
Cirra Constantine	Cirra can't help but take some measure of amusement in Landon's discomfort and it shows. Perhaps just an act of retribution for earlier. "It's true, you two are just alike in that way." She ribs Landon. "Hmmn." Cirra smiles at the memory. "And then baked more herself when the kitchen staff wasn't around." She sighs, "I miss those days too. It has been a long time." Then Landon compliments her and she leans back, "Curvy, soft and pretty?" she hmns, "Well I think your sister's helped with the last part." She leans her cheek against one hand. "Are you sure you aren't flirting with me?" But then he requests a change of topic and she sighs, diggin out the recording crystal and holds it out. "Will this help?"
Landon al Cid	"..." Landon looks uncomfortable. "No, I am not certain I'm not flirting with you," he admits quietly as she nuzzles his hand. He looks around the room conspiratorially again. There are no cameras. There are no people. It's the height of classes, and only by the luck of the draw - and the schedule that involves the Freelancer classes moving around frequently to keep students taking them safe from potential religious objections or gossip. He looks out the window. People are walking along the campus, but no one's nearby. No one's looking up. No one's looking in. No glint of cameras or phones, no glint of binoculars or telescopes. Landon looks back at her. Then he kisses her. His lips press against hers as his hand holds her cheek. He kisses her for a long, long moment, then pulls away and straightens, adjusting his tie. "...yes, I'm flirting with you," he tells her finally, "Like I usually do. Harmless. Safe. Fun. Teasing, joking around. Enjoying the intimacy that I don't get to have with other people. The intimacy I won't even have with my own future wife before it's decided we'll be wed. You're my best friend. I share with you things other people can't begin to conceive of. Even the Light Wariors don't know half the secrets you know. You're...god, when I'm King, you'll be the most trusted person in Ramuh." Landon sits back against the couch and sighs. He puts on a wan smile as she offers him the recording crystal. "It might, yes. What's it of? Your dungeon run, or something else?"
Cirra Constantine	Now that takes her off gaurd, especially as Landon's sudden inspection of the surroundings was working up her bodygaurd instinct. She was ready for trouble, not for Landon's lips on her's. "Mmh!" she closes her eyes. When Landon pulls away she leans back against the couch. She looks almost regretfull. "You should becarefull doing that." "I might start to like it." "I don't want the power of the most trusted. I just want to be the one your trust." "It is." she straightens out her hair, tucking it behind one ear. And then straightens out her blazer incase anyone wanders by.
Landon al Cid	"..." Landon is quiet for a moment. Then he leans forward and kisses her again. He pushes her back against the couch, hands pressed against her cheeks as he does so. He comes up for air, then kisses her again; then again, then again, then yet again. Then he sits up, as if he's suddenly horrified by what he's done, and looks down at his lap with a mixture of shame and self-loathing etched across his face. "I would give so very much to be able to..." He shakes his head. His voice is shaky. "...the...it's important," he mutters, like a mantra, "We can't.../I/ can't. You can, and I can't, and it's...unfair, because...you are..." He runs his fingers through his hair. He slowly catches his breath, then shakes his head. "The heart...may want what the heart wants. And the body may be coaxed into foolish decisions. But I am...a member of the al Cid family. I cannot be unfaithful. I cannot tarnish my family's good name, the decades of work, the tenuous chokehold round the throats of the nobility. If we had been born a hundred years from now, in a Ramuh where the nobility had no power, where the mayoral council was all there was, then perhaps...perhaps then, I could..." "...you mean the world to me, Cirra Constantine. You will always have my trust." He runs his fingers over his eyes, as though wiping away teas, or fighting down a headache. "You will always be the only one I can truly trust." "...that gift, at least, I can give freely to whomever I please."
Cirra Constantine	Pushed down again and kissed, Cirra grabs Landon by the shoulders and kisses back each time passionatly. Her heart is pounding in her chest as she finally gets the one thing that she wants, that would make her /happy/! And then Landon pulls back leaving Cirra laying there, staring up at him with wide eyes. As Landon explains though, Cirra's face slowly contorts back into the old ciy cool demeanor. Her hand reaches up and rests against te top of Landon's head. "I'm sorry." Cirra stands back up and straightens her blazer out for the second time. She turns and bows to Landon with one arm held across her chest. "I was being presumptious to think beyond my station, Pince LAndon al Cid." Theres no malice, or sass or sarcasm. This is Business as Normal Cirra. "I'll take my leave."
Landon al Cid	Landon grabs her hand. He doesn't let her leave. Not yet. He pulls her back down onto the couch, leveraging his strength and his sitting position and his weight to get her back onto the seat. Landon closes his eyes and looks down at his lap. His hand is tight in hers. He's not willing to let her go. He's not willing to let her walk out the door misunderstanding the situation, or reading the wrong thing, or...or... Or, God help him, thinks he's just toying with her. The mere thought of it hurt him more than anything else. He holds her hand there for a little bit, his grip like a warm vice. Outside, crowds are starting to fill the area as classes let out. He has a class soon. He knows that. There's so much stress he's under. The Plates stand poised for war. The world descends into madness at the drop of a hat. The world no longer makes sense to him, a whirling storm of demands, attempts on his life, the rigors of court...but this! This, at least, makes sense. For three years it's made sense, and every time they've gotten close, he's pushed her away gently, reminding them of their station, of their duties, of their rules. But... But those stations might be about to cost people lives. The duties of the nobility were mad. And in the face of something like this...of something that made so much sense... He releases her hand. When she stands, he looks into her eyes. "...could you..." Landon chooses his words very precisely, "Could you...see to it that..." "...could you see to it that the sheets in my rooms at the palace have been changed, and that the locks have been set?" Landon asks finally. "I have a class very shortly, but afterwards, I will likely want to take a very long nap." His voice takes on a more regal tone as he stands and hoists his bag over his shoulder. "It's been a very long time since we napped together, Cirra. When I return from class, if you aren't busy, would you like to join me? I feel as if we might both need the stress relief, with all the madness going on in our world. And we haven't spent nearly enough time together. Though I admit it may not be quite as it used to be when we were children."
Cirra Constantine	Cirra is pulled back down to the couch, and asked to...change the sheets? Did he just say what she /thinks/ he said? Landon gets up to leave, acting like a Prince should. Expected too. She should bow and say 'yes Prince' But sometihng makes Cirra uncomfortable, it makes her clench her hands. It makes Cirra stand up and swing her foot right at Landon's backside. "I will NOT sneak around!" It is not uncommon for the other students to see scenes like this between Landon and Cirra. She walks ahead and turns to look Landon in the eye. "If I do anything it'll be out in the o-" the poor choice of wording hits her before she says it. She turns on her heel and starts walking, other students start getting out of her way in a hurry. "Get your chamber maid to do it!"
Landon al Cid	Landon narrowly avoids being actually properly kicked, though he still takes a bit of a clip in the side of the leg. He looks a bit forlorn as she storms off, but runs his hands through his hair and picks up his satchel nonetheless. It was better this way. It was...it was better. It was safer. It was.../not/ foolish. He watches her go, hiding the longing from his face now that his peers have arrived. Finally, his alarm rings. He close his eyes and walks off heading for his class. He...it was better. Still he found himself reaching for his phone.