gorgantic | (no subject)

[Gorgon slithers past the doors into her personal chambers. Being the Queen of Monsters is more stressful and exhausting than one may think, even for someone as immensely powerful as her. Finding opportunities to relieve stress outside of slaughtering humans is few and far between. A nap is all she expects to get right now.

Until she spots a figure sitting on the edge of a massive bed. No other human would willingly enter Gorgon's lair. Yang Guifei stands beside the bed, looking calm and composed. The woman is one of many Gorgon has kept as spoils of war, but the only that has acclimated well enough to be allowed some freedom in Gorgon's monster fortress. It is not a matter of trust, but a matter of the woman having an unnatural dedication to her.]

You. Who do you think you are, entering my quarters without permission?

[Gorgon knows very well why Yang is here. She talks as though she is speaking to a pet that is sitting somewhere it does not belong and not like a human pest infesting her private chambers. Although she keeps the woman around, Yang is not anything more than something convenient to entertain her. She slithers closer, towering over the human girl. She looks at her as a predator does to prey, not so much someone looking upon her consort.]

I do hope you have a good explanation.

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[Seeing her Emperor in a troubled state is a painful thing.

Yang can no longer recall much of her life before she entered the service of the Queen of Monsters, but she does remember what it means to be an Imperial Consort: to dedicate herself to the Emperor's wellbeing, for it will ensure the happiness and prosperity of the kingdom.

And so she observes. Acts, even unbidden. Perhaps her desire to please borders on recklessness, but to her this is out of duty and love for an emperor more grand and breath-taking than any other kingdom on earth.]

Please forgive my intrusion, Your Imperial Majesty.

[She gracefully gets on her knees, head bowed, and presents an instrument - a biwa - for inspection. That her emperor towers over her like this has long ceased to be an issue, although Yang knows she must tread carefully if she is not to meet execution, as is often the fate of consorts who push too far.]

I simply wish to assist in soothing your mind for a peaceful rest.

Will you permit this Yang Guifei to play for you?

[No other human would present themselves in such a way to Gorgon. The humility, the composure--any other would be cowering in fear or making some futile attempt at slaying her. Maybe it is Yang's being some one in a billion aberration that keeps Gorgon's attention.]

Oh?

[Gorgon looks down at the instrument for a moment. Her legion of monster spawn are not exactly known for their skills in the arts. She retains her own interest from back when she was less monstrous, so this opportunity is always welcome--even if Gorgon has other plans for working out her stress tonight.]

I permit it.

[Gorgon slithers onto the wide structure that acts as her bed. It isn't made of any soft material and is more of a decorated slab. She points to the center.]

Play it here.

[Awe and fear can be close enough to overlap with one another, and Yang's particularly experienced in molding herself to the circumstances. If certain toxins helped smoothen how her switch was flipped, well - it's nothing she can distinguish from the intensity in how she was previously taken.

It's the intensity that she remembers most, anchored by the need to keep her emperor happy and content. And so when her request is permitted - with the honor of playing in the center of her lord's bed, no less - a thrill of happiness courses through her as she bows even lower.]

This one is grateful for your indulgence.

[Yang gets to her feet, dusting the knees of her dress as she does so, and slips off her shoes as she crawls to the center of the bed - she's already decided even with the lack of a mattress, it's still a bed since her Emperor uses it that way, and so she follows suit.

She maintains her poise as she shifts to sit with her knees folded, placing the biwa on her lap. The song she plays is one about spring and summer, of the beauty of the moon and the sweetness of rainfall.

Of her emperor's victory and conquest of the world.

The shift in tune is still melodic, carried along with the skillful plucking of fingers. Yang was taught by the best musicians from an empire, and she's placed what she's learned into an original composition.

She hopes this is to her emperor's delight.]

[Gorgon slithers around to surround Yang with her long tail. Like the predator she is, she denies her prey any opening to escape...even if her prey has no interest in going anywhere.

Gorgon rests her head on her hand, elbow on the cold slab she calls a bed. She watches and listens as Yang plays. The music is only a pleasant backdrop on her real focus: Yang. Her scent. Her soft skin. Her frail body. Her slender, skilled fingers. She is all but drooling.

She is hungry, in several different ways.

Her free hand reaches beneath her the cloth around her waist, feeling between her legs. She continues to watch and listen as she feels herself.]

[Being surrounded by her emperor like this, however loosely, is a good sign. The same goes for her emperor beginning to to touch herself, and a curl of want runs through Yang as she transitions her song from victory to something more sensual. Heated.

Now isn't the time to let her imagination run wild, but Yang allows herself a moment to recall the sensation of her emperor's strength within her and on her skin. Her fingers don't falter on the strings, although her desire manifests in the faint glow of her eyes.

An emperor whose might can render the consequences of Yang's ruinous beauty void. The words sound right in her head, even if she can't remember why she thinks of herself as such. Whatever the case, she counts herself as blessed to have entered her emperor's service.]