Waku/Esen - Help I'm Gay

Waku Motohama does not seem to be injured in anyway, but still, she's been solidly passed out for at least an hour, and that doesn't account for how long she may have been unconscious before Esen found her. Eventually though, the Raen stirs, a groan forming in the depths of her mouth as her hand twitches. It takes a moment for her brain to catch up to her, and when it does, the woman goes entirely still. Even though she hasn't opened her eyes yet, she knows that she has absolutely no idea where she is or-
Waku Motohama || what might notice if she lets on she's awake. /Fuck/. She can at least tell she's on the ground, covered by something, can hear water nearby and... someone else? Waiting for a moment, Waku tries to form a worst case scenario action plan.
Esen Dazkar: "Are awake," is the voice that greets her, along with the rhythmic sound of a blade scraping over stone. The noise stops and a Xaela woman rises, kneeling at the Raen's side. "Are well?"
Waku Motohama || Well, the gig is up. Resigned to her fate of being murdered for her idiocy if it comes to that, Waku creaks open her eyes, and... Manages not to say, /woah, you're pretty/, and if she did, she'd deny it literally forever and then summarily blame it on the Literally Everything of the past two weeks. "...I'm okay," she manages, voice creaky from a dry throat (lack of hydration - she swears!) Sitting up, she takes in her surroundings.
Waku Motohama: Where am I?
Esen Dazkar || Whatever reasons there may or may not be for Waku's dry throat, she is being handed a water skein for her thirst. "Shroud," is the blunt answer, gaze flicking over the Raen's features. Knowing that many of Azim's children had ventured far away and seeing it were two entirely different realities. "Found in grass. Carried."
Waku Motohama looks over the water skin, then flicks her clear blue gaze up to the woman. A couple of conclusions settle in her fairly simultaneously, the foremost of which was that this woman didn't fit the profile of a serial killer, and nodding to her, Waku takes a hefty drink before passing it back.
Waku Motohama: Thank you. For the water and for helping me out. What's your name?
Esen Dazkar: "Esen. Of Dazkar tribe." The heavy scent of spices permeates the air about them and Esen stands, ambling to the fire to see about dinner. "Name?"
Waku Motohama picks herself up, a bit unsteady on her feet at first before she finds her bearings and joins her.
Waku Motohama: Motohama Waku. A pleasure to be in your company, eeeh... ugh, in your tribe, how do people address each other politely?
Esen Dazkar || Motohama earns herself a strange look for that. "By name. Am not elder. Or huntress."
Waku Motohama: Where I'm from, it's typical to be really polite with strangers, especially if you might be younger than them.
Esen Dazkar nods in acknowledgment before finally meeting her gaze. "Are not of Steppe," she says, though the words sound more for confirmation than anything judgmental. "Are from where?"
Waku Motohama: Doma. I've been living in this land for a long while, though.
Waku Motohama pauses, and refrains from asking what brought Esen here, or commenting on her speech patterns at all. It somehow seems Rude.
Esen Dazkar kneels, pulling what looks to be fish and some sort of vegetable from a small rack over the fire onto a clay plate. "Mm." Othard, but not the Steppe. About what she expected. "Hungry?"
Waku Motohama: ...I basically never say no to food, and that smells really good. I'd hate to impose, though. You're sure it's okay? You really have helped me out a lot already...
Waku Motohama scratches her cheek, looking a bit embarrassed. Passing out in the wilderness was... well, she'd made better choices.
Esen Dazkar treats the Raen to her first smile. "Was right thing do." There is unfortunately only one plate but more than enough food for two, and she beckons the woman to join her as she wanders out near the water.
Waku Motohama looks out over the lake, taking in the scenery for a moment before settling down beside Esen. "Heh, well. Not everyone does the right thing, but I do like the mindset."
Waku Motohama: You've picked a pretty place to set up camp.
Esen Dazkar 's small fingers delicately pick at the fish, humming in pleasure at the scent and the easy way it flakes apart. "Is quiet. Good fishing. Try stay away from big city." She glances at her, proffering the plate. "Why passed out in woods? Dangerous. Ill?"
Waku Motohama gives her a small, somewhat shy grin. Her pointed canines aren't as prominently on display as they usually are. "Uh, a few days ago, I had to really overdo it to help save a teammate's life. I'd thought I was being careful and that I just needed to sit down for a second, but..." She sighs, picking a portion of fish for herself. It doesn't seem to trouble her to eat with her hands. "Was worse off than I thought, I guess."
Esen Dazkar frowns sadly. "Is noble," she replies, "but must watch self. Try rescue friend under bison hoof, both get trampled."
Waku Motohama nods after taking in a mouthful of fish, chewing, and swallowing like a proper raen with good table manners. "Good analogy. I'll have to use that one. I definitely... don't like what I had to do to save him, or that he put even himself in a position where I had to go so far to save him. But here I am, letting my guard down and getting myself into trouble!"
Waku Motohama clicks her tongue.
Esen Dazkar: "Make bad choices tired," is Esen's sage observation. "No wander when tired. Happened, helped friend, must help self. Or can't help anyone."
Esen Dazkar likes this little sharing thing, she finds, the quiet rhythm of picking her kill apart.
Waku Motohama gives her a soft smile. There's a tiredness underneath her eyes, the sort of exhaustion that implies a long-standing, casual amount of sleep deprivation that has just become... normal at this point. The fish seems to cheer her though, and the crickets are nice, and - when was the last time she'd just been outside and /sat/ by some pretty flowers? When she wasn't always thinking a mile a minute about the next plan of attack? "I seriously wish more people thought like you. I'd spend less time-
Waku Motohama: threatening to write positive, self-affirming statements on people's foreheads.
Waku Motohama shifts expression into a bright Motohama grin.
Esen Dazkar evidently finds her charming, as a soft, high laugh emerges between them. "Are kind, Motohama. Will eat. Regain strength, and - "
Esen Dazkar pauses, then reluctantly adds, "Will escort home. Even if in city."
Waku Motohama pauses slightly at the way she uses her name, but it's... not bad. Actually, it's really nice. Sure, she probably doesn't /mean/ it like that, doesn't mean to actually address her the way she's comfortable with instead of jumping straight to 'Waku' like everyone else in this dang country. But it feels natural, and even if it's an idle thought, the day that one day there might be that special shift when she's called /Waku/ for the first time is appealing. Its been so long since she's gotten -
Waku Motohama - to experience that special moment. Still! That's definitely just wishful thinking, and she returns to the business at proper. "Oh, you don't have to do that if it makes you uncomfortable. I'm staying up north - Coerthas, it's covered in snow - and if I really need to, I have people I can ask to come get me. ...If you really want though, I'd be happy to return the favor of food." Waku nods to the plate before picking another chunk for herself.
Esen Dazkar makes a face at the mention of snow - something rare but present on the steppe and always bothersome when it happened. "Live north?"
Waku Motohama: ...It's a long story, but uh... me and my - organization, I guess, are you familiar with the idea of a Free Company? - were forced out of our home in some really unpleasant circumstances. We've been hiding north ever since.
Esen Dazkar frowns. "Free...company?"
Waku Motohama: Okay, so... I won't give you a whole history spiel, but a Free Company is an organized group of people working towards a like-minded goal. Lots of adventurers - you know, like the ones in the guild? - form Free Companies to work together and protect Eorzea independently from any of the city-states, and mine is similar to that in idea, I suppose. Though I'm not much of an adventurer.
Esen Dazkar 's expression clears. "A kind of tribe. Understand now." She nods firmly. "If were forced, more reason for escort. Can protect."
Waku Motohama: Actually, that's a good comparison. A kind of tribe, except it's not usually one that raises you. But, ah... I mean, mm... I know I made a terrible first impression by passing out in the woods and you having to carry me - wait.
Waku Motohama: ...You carried me?
Esen Dazkar blinks, reading the Raen's bewilderment but not understanding it. "Yes? Am very strong. Was not hard."
Waku Motohama is trying very hard not to think of certain things. Or picture certain things. Clear the mind! Thanks Sir Markus, your meditation techniques are helping a poor, useless gay lizard from collapsing in on herself. "Damn. I really /did/ do the whole damsel spiel. Well - I promise you, needing to be bravely carried to safety is pretty unusual for me. Wouldn't have survived long in my job if I wasn't quick to get out of most trouble."
Esen Dazkar shrugs, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "If is usual, is no matter. Like said. Am strong." She takes a final piece of fish before leaving the last and biggest piece for the Raen, and then proceeds to - very daintily, like some sort of coeurl - lick her fingers.
Waku Motohama laughs brightly. "Oh boy, what I wouldn't give to have a brave warrior woman from the Steppe coming valiantly to my rescue next time some weirdo tries to stab me in a murder-shack!" While Waku is normally rather polite and generous, her gluttonous tendencies override her natural to politely be like, 'no, /you/ have the biggest piece'. Besides, it's good food, and... she did need the meal. As she eats the chunk, using the palm of her hand as a plate, she tries not to watch Esen clean herself.
Waku Motohama - It's normal! This is normal! And she is not going to make it weird. As if to prove a point, the Raen does the exact same thing once she's finished.
Esen Dazkar all but beams at the compliment, and tries very hard to squash the sudden desire to do just that. "Would take weirdo's head off," she replies reassuringly, the word 'weirdo' spoken with the hesitance of someone who finds the syllables odd. "Hour late. Want escort now? Want sleep first?"
Waku Motohama grins. "If you keep talking like that, you'll make me want to keep you!" A pause. "Uh, not in like - an objectifying way, you absolutely cannot own people and everyone is free to make their own choices - wow. Yep, sure stuck my foot in my mouth there." Waku sighs lightly. "Making the journey Coerthas in the dark would probably be a bad idea. If you don't mind the company for the night? I'm used to sleeping basically anywhere."
Esen Dazkar tells herself very firmly that the sudden flutter in her chest is inappropriate, rising with the empty plate to wash it in the river. "Do not mind. Will manage if can handle - yurt small."
Waku Motohama: I am extraordinarily flexible and have an optimistic, upbeat attitude that makes me easy to please.
Esen Dazkar has a sudden and intense vision of her own yurt - except bigger, and lit with a low lantern, and containing one apparently easy-to-please Raen eager to greet her after a long day's hunt. It is somehow both jarring and pleasant. "Come," she instructs, ambling over to the yurt and promptly unlacing her dress.
Waku Motohama pauses, watching her beginning to take her clothes off and yep, this is normal, this is totally normal, don't make it weird, Waku! Of course that would be uncomfortable to sleep in. Duh. Duh!! Refusing to at /all/ let herself be the slightest bit of an obnoxius prude, Waku takes off her own jacket.
Esen Dazkar clearly does not find this in the slightest bit weird: long, muscled brown legs fully exposed as the dress is removed. Her chakrams accompany them, close to hand, and she folds the dress neatly. There are functional black shorts under it. There is nothing else.
Esen Dazkar: "Inside. Are blankets."
Esen Dazkar crawls in.
Waku Motohama is so, so, SO intensely glad that it is dark enough to somewhat conceal the blush rising to her pale cheeks. Dammit! Why did her years in law enforcement have to give her a weird muscle thing? It's unfair! Continuing to resolve to keep things Professional, Waku sheds her boots, her socks, and her fancy dress pants, leaving herself in a light cotton top and a pair of briefs like the true soft butch she is. Joining her, Waku says, "Thanks again. Seriously. I'll absolutely owe you a multiple -
Waku Motohama - favors after this, you know?"
Esen Dazkar was not kidding about this thing being tiny: it helps, as Esen is tiny herself, but another body makes that fact quite clear. "Can pay if see again." She frowns into the darkness, the thought an oddly sad one. Hesitantly, she adds, "Would like to. See again. Have not...had person since left."
Esen Dazkar: "Miss talking."
Waku Motohama basically has no choice - there is no way for her to escape being either the big spoon or the little spoon, and giving up to her fate, Waku scoots so her head can rest on top of Esen's and her arm can go over her stomach. "Sorry to make things cramped. But... yeah, I'd be happy to meet up again. Can I, uh..."
Waku Motohama: ...What made you come here?
Esen Dazkar || Intimacy is a thought for which Steppe living leaves little room: practical needs must be met. It exists, of course - there is no misconception about lovers needing privacy, about the young sent to sleep outside under warm summer stars. But it is not a common thought in Esen's mind, and so this hyperawareness of a body holding her is one she does not know what to do with.
Esen Dazkar || And this is a stranger, a fascimile, situational mimicry. But the sensations linger, all the same. She frowns sadly. "...needed leave. Learned skill. Tried figure out do next."
Waku Motohama is, quite frankly, offended at the entire situation. She is not used to this kind of close physical contact, she has not inured herself to the heat of another body or the feeling the rhythmic shift of someone's breathing, and the fact of the matter is: people shouldn't smell like spices, grass, and warm earth, that's something that happens in /novels/, but here she is, trying to pretend that she is absolutely not cuddling up to a gorgeous warrior woman who literally carried her to safety and
Waku Motohama - fed her delicious food. And offered to escort her home. And also defend her from creepy people (while calling them weirdos, the sounds rolling oddly in her mouth? That shouldn't be cute, but somehow it is!) along with having really nice - ...nope! No Waku! She didn't just stop at diverting tracks of thought, she practically kicked the train over in her scramble to think about anything else. A tragic backstory will work. "You arrived recently, then?"
Esen Dazkar:  /em hums an affirmative, absently wiggling in Waku's arms. Something about the woman's warmth makes her want to move, as though she could burrow yet deeper in it and pretend this wasn't remotely strange. "Two moons from Thavnair. Three cycles from Steppe."
Waku Motohama can deal with this. Right now, she is simply offering companionship and company to a lonely woman in a strange land. "Well... hm. Is there anything you've ever wanted to see? Anything you've ever wanted to try?" she asks, holding the woman a bit closer.
Esen Dazkar hesitates, mulling over her answer. "...city," is the hesitant reply. "Do not trust city folk. Aggressive. But interesting still. Many people on Steppe, but tribes keep to selves or fight."
Esen Dazkar: "Did not want do alone here."
Esen Dazkar smiles, then. "New food. New hunting. New dancing."
Esen Dazkar: "What do you, Motohama? Work? With...free company?"
Waku Motohama smiles, but her tone takes on an air of remorse. "At the moment, I'd have a hard time showing you around a city. There are some people who if they... well, they saw me, it'd be really bad for me. But that won't be forever, and I'd be happy to show you around once all the misunderstandings are cleared up. I don't know much about dancing or hunting... but hey, when we get to my place, I can certainly work on that 'new food' thing."
Waku Motohama pauses. "...I'm a... detective. A person who... when someone commits a crime, I'm the person who figures out who did it and works to help catch them. In my company, I investigate people who are trying to hurt other people so I can help figure out how to stop them."
Esen Dazkar || For some reason the notion of Motohama threatened *bothers* her, enough to shift in the woman's arms to meet her gaze in the warm dark. "Will not let hurt you," she replies firmly. "Can wait. Life more important."
Esen Dazkar || Detective. What an exotic word - once Esen repeats, just to feel it on her tongue. "Are smart, then. Could tell."
Waku Motohama || Oh no. Now that she's turned around, not only can Esen see her go a bit pink at her protectiveness, but Waku can /also/ see her - nope, no, bad thought. Bad thought! "I, aha! Well, I try to be. I've never been good in a fight, always had to compensate for my head. I never really meant to end up where I am now, but... I just kept seeing situations where someone needed to do something, and even if I wasn't particularly qualified, nobody else seemed to be stepping up. So I did. Sort of fell-
Waku Motohama - into the role, really."
Esen Dazkar: "Then need people good to fight, so can do what good at," is Esen's sage advice, obeying the odd impulse to slide her arms around the taller woman. "Still smart. Adapt is skill."
Esen Dazkar is promptly given pause, though, because Motohama smells...good. Very good. It's startling how good.
Waku Motohama manages to laugh it off, except there's a nervousness undercutting it that betrays her own rise in heartbeat. Why her? "Part of why I joined the company I did. I poke around around and get information for them, try to act as a lookout and investigator on missions, and I've gotten enough practice with field medicine that I can help out the doctors proper. But uh... you said you're a huntress, right?"
Esen Dazkar 's voice all but drips with pride. "Am. Tribe is huntresses, the women. Men tend yurts."
Waku Motohama restrains herself from saying, /Ah, if only that were the case here./ That would be very mean, and it's not like all the men she knows are completely incompetent. Just... enough that the fantasy is pleasant. "You'll find a lot of interesting game here, then. Seems like everywhere's got its overly large beasts threatening public safety. Once even saw a megalocrab that was about as big as a house.
Esen Dazkar laughs. "Want hunt it," is the sleepy reply, resisting the urge to rub her face on the Raen's scaled shoulder. She is not resisting well. "Tired Motohama sleep now. Will escort morning."
Waku Motohama can't help but smile, and tentatively, she reaches her hand up to the woman's hair to lightly stroke it. "Sounds good. Sleep well, Esen."
Esen Dazkar immediately nuzzles into her hand, perhaps too tired to feel a modicum of shame, and lets herself drop off to sleep.