805/Beautiful Dreams and Waking Nightmares

Beautiful Dreams and Waking Nightmares
Date of Scene:	06 January 2016
Location:	Earth Court Frat House
Synopsis:	Usagi dreams of a past life. Kunzite teaches her about days and nights, seasons and lands, and children. Endymion arrives and Kunzite slinks to the shadows to get cavities and the couple's sweet sappiness. Then Usagi wakes up, has a cape on her, and obviously, Kunzite is a Creeper.
Cast of Characters:	Mamoru Chiba, Usagi Tsukino, Kunzite

---

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
Princess Serenity shivers as the last of the transportation beam fades from her.

She is made of shadows and stealth! (Not really, she is literally glowing in the dark.) She recalls what her love, what his generals, have told her over and over again. Discretion. Secrecy. Forbidden.

Normally, these should be enough to keep her away.

Realistically, these should be what brings her here.

Neither is true, of course.

She would face the eternal wrath of the cosmos if it meant a few seconds more with her beloved.

Is she selfish?

Perhaps.

But her mother, who had never fallen in love save for with the sweet cherubic face of her daughter, did not know what it was that Serenity's heart yearned for.

And, since her mother was the person the young princess looked up to the most, these continuous acts of what could be seen as betrayal should hurt.

But they don't.

All Serenity wants in life, all she needs, is to be around him. Even if it's just moments at a time, even if they do no more than exchange a few words.

Kunzite has posed:
The Golden Kingdom is not as adept with these things as the Moon Kingdom is. Earth is a backward planet, uneducated, barbarian; their magics are strong, but not always precise. Their perceptions are half superstition, rarely clear. It takes time for them to notice her presence, time for them to find her.

Which means that for this particular handful of moments, she stands among greenery and night-closed flowers, in air that would have been rich and sweet compared to the Moon's even without the blossoms' perfume.

Also, she is glowing in the dark.

It may be slightly easier for the Earth's guards to find her, under the conditions. But it still isn't immediate. There's still a little time in which she's alone and unescorted, able - for once - to do...

... well. Anything she wants, really.

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
Many Lunar may indeed view Earth as being backward. Serenity never has, though this may in part be due to her complete bias regarding the first prince of Earth.

They are not backward. They do things slow, as they should be done.

Their magics are powerful, carefully tested instead of blindly leapt toward.

Where others of her home would openly shun and attempt to shame the terrans, Serenity's always held a silent awe for them.

Anything she wants is precisely what Serenity does.

At this moment, all she wants is to press her face into the many blooms of the garden, to breathe in colors and scents unfamiliar to her home.

Outside of Endymion, this is her most favorite.

She breathes deep, giggling at the unfamiliar and heady aromas that fill the air. She is almost dizzy with them as she dances between flowers.

"Oh, I wish I could bring you home." This is, of course, to a rose. "You'd smell so sweet. The other flowers would be jealous."

She brushes her fingertips over the petals of a peony, instant regret filling her heart. "You'd be lovely, too!"

Kunzite has posed:
The sleeping garden can't answer her; but the flowers are there, and even closed petals are tremendously soft, sweet-scented. And there is moonlight to cast the garden from darkness into something gentler, and there are stars, which are not so clear here as at home, but which wink at her and play instead. And there are clouds, glowing in the moonlight like the traceries of her hair. And there are living things that move, scuttling between leaves, or soaring overhead hunting insects.

There are so many things, and all of them different.

At at last, after a few minutes or a few more, there's the shifting, flickering light of a candleflame in a lantern, and a murmur of quiet male voices at the edge of the garden; and then the lantern goes away again, and there are steps. Only one set; whoever was talking, they've gone separate ways for now.

The one whose way brings him into the garden is tall, almost as pale as one of the Moon Kingdom's subjects (though not, it should be noted, glowing in the slightest), dressed in a familiar uniform as precise as if he'd never been woken out of a sound sleep. He pauses at the farthest range that could conceivably be interpreted as conversational distance. Bows, neatly and precisely, in a fashion that neither ignores nor emphasizes the sword at his side. Straightens again in a separate movement. Says aloud, with a mild resignation, "Princess Serenity. Nephrite has gone to find Prince Endymion and notify him of your arrival, but I fear you were particularly unexpected this time; it may be a little while."

Apparently Endymion is - somewhere - without either of his oldest two guards. Given Jadeite and Zoisite, he could be off being diplomatic and sneaky; he could be off making mischief. He could be off doing both at the same time. It's a little hard to tell.

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
It is for all of these reasons -- all of these reasons and more -- that leaves Serenity breathless over the beauty of Earth more often than not. Everything here is far less straightforward, far more playful, than at home. Earth, she feels, dances with her soul.

So enraptured she is that she hardly notices the distant voices. She doesn't realize she is no longer alone until Kunzite speaks.

She jumps, not from fear. Though maybe something like it.

Of the four Generals, Kunzite is the most enigmatic. The others have a certain undertone she can decipher. With Kunzite? Sometimes Serenity feels the older man puts up with her for his prince's sake and for that alone.

She wrings her hands at her waist before remembering that it's unbecoming of a princess to do so. Instead, she smooths her skirts and nibbles her lip, clearing her throat before she looks up at him.

"I know. I didn't have time before I snuck away."

Serenity has, at least, the decency to look somewhat abashed at the taller man. "I just...I wanted to see him, Sir Kunzite."

The way she looks at him says she's used to getting her way. It also says she's afraid she won't down here. "Is it...may I? I could wait here until the next opportunity to go back, if not. Would you give him my love, if I do need to leave?"

Kunzite has posed:
The man makes a brief, noncommittal noise in his throat, and then says gravely, "We could hardly send you back before the next opportunity, Princess. So I suppose there is nothing for it but to offer you our hospitality in the mean time. Whether you choose to enjoy it here in the gardens, or to take refuge indoors, where we can arrange enough light to see anyone at all by before sunrise."

In the dark, normally, his expression would go unnoticed. But she herself is glowing, and everything about him is pale enough to reflect just a little of that glow. So she can see him plainly enough, despite that 'arrange enough' comment; see the tiny creases, for a moment, at the corner of one eye.

... he's teasing her.

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
It takes her a moment more to realize that he is teasing her than it would have with the others. When she does, her cheeks turn a bit pink as she suddenly smiles, and it's almost as bright as she is. "Well, then. I suppose we don't want to be caught unaware."

She knows she casts a fair bit of light. She also knows that any 'trouble' would be spotted as soon, if not sooner, outdoors than in.

Still.

And she also realizes she's probably interrupted not only him, but Nephrite, as well. And the other two generals, along with her prince.

Being an ungracious guest is not something she wants to be.

She walks toward him, hand slipping out to brush against his elbow, hesitant in case that is something Not Done on Earth.

"What were you doing before I came?"

She's sometimes pondered exactly what Kunzite did in his alone time. Sadly, her mind never came up with much.

Kunzite has posed:
The problem with trouble and glowing things is that it's possible to see the glowing things from much farther away than it's possible to see the trouble. Which is why Nephrite went to find Endymion, and Kunzite stayed; not a matter of rank, so much as that one of them is more adept at shielding than the other.

Her hand slipping out results in Kunzite offering her his arm as escort, grave and precise and his manner just a little bit out of fashion. He never quite keeps up with that, and Serenity's unusual position has insulated her from all the rumors that might give her a guess at why. "Sleeping, Your Highness," he answers her. "It's something that we Earth people do at night, occasionally. Please don't concern yourself with it. I'd expected to be woken soon in any case, and Nephrite's divining your arrival was a considerably more pleasant surprise than most of the possible reasons."

Really, she's never seen any evidence that the answers to her ponderings might not be 'work' and 'work more.' There's almost certainly something else, but Endymion's eldest guardian doesn't make a habit of letting people see past that uniform he's wearing.

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
Of course, the glow is such a natural part of Serenity that how far she's visible is not something that often crosses her mind. If she thought about such things, she likely would travel to earth covered in a cloak.

Her hand curves around his elbow. Normally, her fingers would be stiff, going through motions as she's passed from dignitary to royal. Here, though, her hand is soft and warm, malleable. And though she feels how this is not his usual state, offering his elbow and guiding a spoiled little girl through the halls, it serves to enhance her sudden calm.

She lets out a soft giggle, however, both mortified and amused, when he admits what he'd been doing prior. "I am so sorry. But I'm glad I'm the lesser of evils, at least?"

And then she is a bustle of curiosity. "What's it like? To have regular days and nights? Does the dark make you more sleepy? But then why do I often see people napping under trees on sunny days?"

And here, the floodgates open. "What is it like for seasons to change? Is it all at onces, or is it a slow, creeping thing? Is it true some places don't have much of a summer or winter?"

Kunzite has posed:
"The least of all evils, I assure you." And that, of course, is why he can't take her inside after all, in the end. Not when she's asking questions about open skies, about weather, about seasons, about the living world. Instead, he escorts her to offer her a seat upon a cleverly-wrought stone bench, and (still perfectly gravely) removes his cape and settles it about her shoulders. Against any chill she might take from the night air, of course. That the fabric muffles her glow is obviously only a secondary effect. It is a lighter thing than Endymion's, not quite so comfortingly heavy; it is not a thing of power in and of itself, but it's been a focus of power so often that the flavor of it lingers in the woven threads, a shadow of its owner, protective and cool.

He himself remains standing whether or not she settles down. Coincidentally, between her remaining light and the most obnoxiously potentailly useful lines of sight, of course. The bower is her other defense, draped in vines of oddly-shaped, almost-white flowers with a fragrance that manages to be thick without being obnoxiously so. That they're also a line of defense against annoying night insects is ... perhaps not unintentional.

"Most of us do sleep when it's darker, by preference," he agrees. "Generally, we sleep for a while, wake for an hour or two, and sleep again. The details vary. Young men may stay up entertaining themselves, then sleep well into the day." As no-one they know might be doing now. "Small children may keep their families awake. And there are always those who work of a night, and sleep in the day, or who have been working hard in the morning and rest in the afternoon. Heat makes us sleepier, as well, and sunny days tend to be warmer." Stated aloud because she might not know that. She might not know anything.

"Seasons are a slower rhythm than night and day," he continues. Watching her reactions, pacing his words to them, so as not to overwhelm her with more of them than she can take in. "They change in more patterns - the nights and days grow longer and shorter, heat rises toward the depth of summer and flees from the depth of winter, the winds change direction and speed, rain falls in greater or lesser amounts or in different places, or falls as snow, or doesn't fall at all. The plants change, too, and the qualities of the light and of the air. Usually it's a slow, creeping thing, irregular, rarely certain day to day. Sometimes it changes all at once: the first snowfall of winter once in a while might not melt till spring. Weather is difficult to predict. It's one of our great troubles; too much cold or heat at the wrong time, too much rain or too little, can ruin a harvest and cause a famine. We can work against that to an extent, with the Kingdom's reach; most years, even if there's trouble in one place, others are able to make up the loss."

He doesn't dwell on what might happen if they couldn't. Not with her, sweet and soft, gentle and bright. "And yes, it is true. Some places, toward the very far north and the very far south, don't have much of a summer; it never grows really hot, and sometimes not even really warm. Other places, like the one I come from, don't have much of a winter. The days there rarely if ever grow colder than the air here is tonight."

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
Serenity is surprised when he leads her to a bench instead of indoors, as she'd believed he would. She wraps the cape snug around herself as she sits, feeling both his warmth and another's, only then noticing the bite in the air. Curiously, delicate fingers escape the warmth of the cape to dance along the cool air, and for a moment she is entranced by it.

And then he is telling her everything she wants to know. Not just cursory answers, but a web of possibilities. She holds the cape tight to her as she leans forward, face turned up to his, eyes darting over his face so she doesn't miss a second of information.

She's always wondered about everything, everything she'd seen from that tiny room she knew better than her own rooms. Even before she'd been so young, seeing for the first time a young boy not much older than her, breaking through a procession to rush toward a much younger Kunzite, asking to be held.

And now, the same Kunzite was telling her things. Teaching her. And not in the way she's used to being taught, curious questions answered with 'just because' and cursory phrases.

She makes notes of other questions she has. What is it like to have so many children around? (She's the first on the moon in years, and her own guardians are older than her.)

As he tells her things, teaches her things, imagery unfolds in her mind, a tapestry of lands and seasons. She pulls the cape tighter to her at the mention of famine. She's seen this before, safe on her little moon, and each time she's cried.

We are observers only, my darling Serenity.

This, for obvious reasons and many not, has never settled well with her.

Serenity starts when he mentions his home, spine straightening as she leans even closer.

"What is it like? Where you're--" She cuts herself off, clearing her throat as she leans back. In all her years of watching, she's never learned much about the man before her. (This, of course, doesn't mean he's never spoken of it. Her observations are usually of the outside, and as much as she longed for it to be otherwise, she could not spend all her waking moments on the moon in that room.)

Instead, she goes for the other topic. Her fingers loosely pull at the cape as she takes in the embroidery. "Kunzite? What are children like?"

Her cheeks warm a bit as she dares to look up at him. It's not shame she feels, but there is a sort of embarrassment to being the youngest person she knows. "I was the last born on the moon."

Kunzite has posed:
She's learned that he watches - and his eyes cut over to her at her almost-a-question. Scarcely any change in his expression, though, neither at the couple of words, nor at her stopping partway and hastening to another topic instead. And there. There's that faint hint of a crease at the corner of his eye again, and maybe just a trace of something at a corner of his mouth.

"Curious," he says. "Children are curious."

She knows there's going to be more. But he gives her a moment before going on, all the same.

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
She gives him a look. It's half embarrassed, half amused, and one-hundred percent 'I see what you did there.'

"Well, of course they are." A mild tilt of her nose, she would appear almost arrogant if not for the twinkle in her eye. "There's much more to your planet than grey dust and long nights."

Kunzite has posed:
The look solidifies, just for a moment, the curve at the corner of his mouth. And for that moment, she almost doesn't need the times she's spied from the Moon to understand why Endymion would put up with this ghost of a man, or how Kunzite could endure dealing for years with a determined and sometimes reckless princeling, let alone with that princeling's almost more reckless compatriots. It's there, in that little twitch, too small to really be called a smile. It's just there.

Then he's talking again, easy, quiet, calm. "Long nights interest some people of themselves. Nephrite, for instance; the stars fascinate him. And some children would find even grey dust fascinating. Almost everything can be fascinating, to a child young enough to find it new.

"When children are born, everything overwhelms them. They're touching air for the first time, feeling pain and hunger for the first time, seeing light for the first time. They're helpless against sensation, helpless to control their own bodies. All they know how to do, at first, is cry. Eventually they learn that crying brings help, and they start to use it on purpose. Eventually they learn that if they do this, then their hands move, or their feet. They spend years on the simplest lessons in the world, learned so early that we forget that we ever had to learn them.

"Once they've mastered their bodies, once they've learned to start to look outward - everything that they look at is new. They want to touch everything, taste everything, regardless of whether it's safe. They want to do everything they see the people around them doing, and a hundred other things just because they look interesting, or might be fun. Older people watch them closely for years, to make sure they don't taste poison, or put their hand under a stone that's about to fall, or decide to imitate a bird without understanding that arms aren't wings and won't hold them in the air."

He folds his arms, glancing outward toward the garden. "They're aggravating to deal with, and they don't really get better until they've gotten old enough to understand that they can be wrong, too. But at the same time, they remind us that all the things that we take for granted are really wonders that we've become too accustomed to. Adults overlook flowers, or sunsets, or storms. Children marvel at them, and wonder why they are, and how it is they are. Sometimes they grow into adults who still admire, or still wonder. The most brilliant of artisans, or the cleverest of philosophers and engineers, are in the end adults who haven't forgotten what it's like to look at the world as a child does."

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
Any nerves she still has at being around Kunzite fade at that almost smile, and her own would glow even if she didn't.

She archs a brow before sitting up straight once again, hands folded neatly in her lap. "One day I may convince Endymion to sneak to the moon. That way Nephrite could see the stars from there." She looks up at the sky. "You can see more from home, but they don't dance for us like they do for you."

She sighs as she catches sight of the moon, peeking out from a copse of trees. She enjoys the sneaking, she really does. It melds well with her precocious nature. But to have the choice not to sneak around? To show her home to the people she's met here in exchange for them showing her theirs? That would be...wonderful.

Oh well. Right now, Kunzite's just started explaining children, and once again, she is eager to listen.

Most of what he speaks of reminds her of her own childhood. How many times did she want to Touch the Thing? How many times did she give her guardians mini heart attacks when she tried to see if she could fly, or if that sparkly wire felt as pretty as it looked?

When he is done, her smile is soft. "It seems to me children are children no matter what planet you're on." It's weird, but that thought makes her feel even closer to the planet she longed to call home. She gives a warm, happy sigh.

Then Serenity looks up at him again, her eyes twinkling. "Aggravating as they can be, they are sure to melt the hearts of even the most stoic of people. I've seen it happen more than once in a certain individual."

Usually, she is good about not reminding people she's more or less a voyeur. She'd forgotten herself there, though, and bites her lip as she looks at her shoes. "I never look inside buildings. Even if it were an option, I wouldn't."

Kunzite has posed:
"I think the technical term for us sneaking to the Moon might be 'invasion,'" comments Kunzite drily. "Although a very small one. Still, I wouldn't want to be the one trying to explain that to the Princesses of Mars or Jupiter."

He tips his head back to follow her gaze upward, just for a moment. His attention is back on things at the Earth's level before he speaks. "Perhaps one day he'll be able to visit openly. There would be more restrictions on what the two of you could do, of course. But it might still be a welcome change."

Her first comment about children garners - not quite a nod; his head tips a little toward her as he's doing it. Acknowledgment of something a little more than just a 'yes.' "The idea of exploration is the same, even if the place that's being explored is different," he agrees. "And on Earth, at least, we've found that different places shape the people who dwell there differently only in outward ways." Endymion's guard being more than a symbol of that. Four of them and their prince, all from different corners of a wildly varying world. "Perhaps that's true in the heavens, as well."

Or perhaps those who dwell in the heavens remain sneaky intelligence-gatherers toward an unknown purpose. But that's not their princess's fault. The flicker of a faint chill across his expression is gone so swiftly as to make it hard to be certain it was ever really there to begin with. "Children cheat," he says, instead. "There's a reason they're cute. It's to keep the soft-hearted from drowning them all and saving us the trouble."

He, of course, is obviously not soft-hearted. Really. They were in his charge - that's what kept him from drowning them. Also, he was never ten.

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
"How is it invading if I've kidnapped your willing prince? I'd say that's more...the rightful retrieval of one's persons and or property in accordance to our law. There's nothing in the subsections that would necessarily exclude Terrans from this right. Not that I've looked into it."

She has. Often.

She shrugs a little, when he mentions how those in the heavens are raised. "I only have myself to base it on. But it sounds similar."

She picks a petal from her skirt and looks at it. "I think what changes is the longevity of life. A thousand years. I think even after that, even the most inquisitive of people would become jaded." She looks up at him, her eyes suddenly so very sad. "And lonely."

She clears her throat again, washing away the sadness with a smile. "And it makes sense. If you drowned all the children who were annoying at one time or another, there wouldn't be many people here, would there? Sounds like a good means of species survival."

Kunzite has posed:
There are a number of things that Kunzite cannot actually say to a visiting Princess. Among that list is every single possible response he could make to that comment about kidnapping. He merely looks fractionally more resigned, and continues to watch the relative darkness of the gardens. Right up until the princess remarks on longevity, and its consequences. Jadedness. Loneliness.

He exhales briefly. "It hardly requires a thousand years for that, Your Highness. Many here manage it in fifty. Or thirty. But you're correct about the drowning. Which is why, even though it's rare to find an adult who hasn't thought of it wistfully, it's also rare to find one who's tried."

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
She notices the looks and shadows and has the good grace to look abashed. Which is good, because that's how she feels. "I wouldn't actually. You're all so precious to him, just as he's precious to you. I couldn't do that to him, even if I wanted to."

She looks up as he speaks of ages and jaded. "Some even younger?" She's looking at him, squarely, as she asks this.

Then she's giggling again, softly. "Very true. At least, none of the good people."

She may have blinders to most things, but having observed this blue planet for most of her life, it's hard to miss the cruelty out there. But, in her opinion, it only enhances the beauty when its found.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
There's sheepish laughter up the path, and the sound of a fist lightly impacting wet clothing. An indignant noise, more laughter, someone scolding -- sounds like Nephrite -- and then some shuffling. Then it's just a lone set of feet in soft leather boots padding near-silently on the stones.

A second later, Endymion appears in the arch, still wiping soot off his face with a damp cloth, hair every which way, and smiling radiantly. "Hello, you two. Having fun without me? Probably wise."

He holds up a hand quickly to forestall any dashing toward him, "I am *covered* in soot, I'll soil your gown-- give me five minutes?"

He is, in fact, covered in soot.

Kunzite has posed:
"Some younger." The confirmation is not an admission; it's calmly disinterested. Which may in itself be evidence for the point she was making, but if so, Kunzite admits nothing, not in words nor tone nor expression nor body language. He's only watching --

Ah. There's the better of the possibilities he was watching for. His shoulders relax, just slightly, at that first hint of sheepish laughter.

Fortunately for all concerned, if his expression reads (to Endymion's experienced eye) 'what in hell did the three of you set on fire this time,' it's too dark for the prince to be able to make it out. ... which is probably why Kunzite's bow to Endymion's appearance in the archway is quite so formal, quite so precisely courteous and respectful. Gods be thanked that his cape is wrapped around Serenity right now, or the gesture would be even more pointedly elaborate.

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
She feels like she's bungled things and sighs. Well, she never did believe she had a chance with a 'more than tolerates' relationship with him, but at least now it's on her own, silly terms! Silver lining.

Serenity perks and jerks her head toward the path, recognizing in an instant who was coming closer. By the time he's in the arch, she's standing and prepared to run at him for a tackle.

She doesn't, of course, but only because he reminded her she was wearing a dress. Heh, oops. So she holds herself back, only just.

"Sir Kunzite was telling me about days and nights and seasons and children. It was all so fascinating."

She gives him a once over, covering her beaming grin with her hand. "What have you been up to?"

Five minutes? Five whole minutes?! Maybe she could wait that long, but he's right there!

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
"Aheh--" Endymion hedges, hesitating in the archway for a second, then eyeing Kunzite. "Look, it wasn't any of our faults, okay-- just because it smelled like sawdust didn't necessarily mean the air was full of sawdust!" He waves a quick hand at Serenity, ocean blue eyes twinkling at her. "Accidents~! I'll be right back, I promise!"

Blown kisses are not sooty, but Kunzite may have to tell Serenity what they are. The Prince vanishes around the archway again, and this time they can hear his feet pelting the paving stones like mad as he takes off at a dead run.

Kunzite has posed:
"That," Kunzite mutters in Endymion's wake, not quite too quietly for Serenity to hear, "is the sound of my not seeing Zoisite for the next week." Resigned. Definitely resigned.

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
Serenity is, of course, confused, both by the story and the airborn kisses. "What? Sawdust that's not sawdust? What was that thing he did?"

She turns to look up at Kunzite, curious. "I'm sure he'll find a way to apologize."

Kunzite has posed:
Conversations Kunzite would like never to be having: this one. "It's called blowing a kiss," Kunzite replies to Serenity. "He wanted to kiss you, but conditions prevented it; despite that, he wanted you to know he wanted to. So he gave you the symbol of it - he kissed his fingertips, then blew across them to pretend to send the kiss to you. It's not something that's done on the Moon, I take it? Not everywhere on Earth, either. A matter of local cultures." And Endymion is in a position to choose what he prefers from all of them. "As for the rest -"

The sound he makes in his throat is quiet, and it might take her a moment to realize it's related to laughter.

"The sawdust was actually sawdust, I'm certain. He's just trying to cover for someone having had what they thought was a very clever idea, but turned out to be an unfortunate one." Weren't they just talking about the age at which children grew into realizing they could be wrong, and therefore becoming less aggravating? ... Kunzite may have left off the detail that sometimes that age is 'never.' "Probably Zoisite, though not certainly so. Neither Endymion nor Jadeite deal much in fire, but there might always have been a lantern involved. I'm sure an apology will not be forthcoming, particularly if it was Zoisite. I'm also sure that no-one was actually injured in the incident, so it's well enough. Anything else can be repaired."

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
Serenity feels her cheeks warm and she sets about to catch invisible kisses. "We don't! But I think maybe we should." She pauses and tucks the invisible kisses in the sash of her gown. She may look silly, but she's in love! "Although it may not catch on."

That done, she stops to look up at Kunzite. "Sawdust and fire -- that explains the soot." She sighs, looking down the path and shaking her head. For a moment, it looks like she may admonish the envisioned act. Instead, "It's a pity. We don't have sawdust to try to blow up."

She tilts her head as she turns back to him. "If anyone was hurt, his demeanor would have been different. So you're right. Every one involved is fine."

Now she is all but bouncing on her heals.

Has it been five minutes yet?!

Kunzite has posed:
"It may not," Kunzite agrees gravely. "And yes, it is a pity. It must be difficult to grow things, in that gray dust. And trees disagree with dust and sand to begin with; they need firmer soil to take root in." ... he might be teasing her again. But just a little. It's hard to tell; it sounds so very much like his normal voice, distinguishing between them is difficult. The nod to her comment about Endymion's demeanor is straightforward, though, confirming her thoughts.

And if the excitement and the bouncing on her heels cause his expression to shift a trace again, well. He's glancing back the way Endymion left before any clear shadow can cross his face. And even if he weren't, at least this one isn't cold.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
And it, somehow, possibly due to the bouncing, has been five minutes! Or maybe less, because those feet pounding the paving stones again are once more at a dead run, and Endymion ends it by hooking a hand around one of the arch's pillars and swinging in to the bower, then flings out his arms, beaming radiantly. No: he is not in armor, he's in a lovely dark blue coat with gold trim over his shirt and trousers, no cape.

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
She bites her lip to keep the smile at bay. "Perhaps, but without all that dust, where would the bunnies come from?"

Before she could elaborate, he's there, he's there, and Serenity makes a noise that is suspiciously close to a squeal of delight as she all but pounces on Endymion, feet dangling and arms around his neck. She sighs a happy hum against his shoulder for a moment before she pulls back to look at him, unable to resist the urge to give him a kiss before talking. It's a sweet scene, romantic, but probably nauseating to anyone not her or Endymion.

"I'm sorry, I should have let you know I was coming, but there was an opportunity. I had to take it."

Goodness she feels like she hasn't seen him in ages! (Probably only a week or a bit longer, but that's an eternity for teenagers in looooove.)

Kunzite has posed:
(Other bunnies?)

No jokes are made, though. Because someone else is coming back, and Serenity's attention is elsewhere. And Kunzite steps away, letting himself fade into the background. There's always at least one of Endymion's four there, when Serenity's present. But they rarely have to make the prince and princess have to notice that.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The kiss is, of course, returned-- after the swinghug that flares Serenity's dress out, that is-- and then Endymion's smiling down at the Moon Princess, hands clasped loosely at the small of her back above the enormous bow. He bends his head and shoulders to touch his forehead to hers-- to the mark there, shining brighter than the rest of her-- and his warmth is gold and welcoming, embracing her, enveloping her.

He's smiling, gentle and full of a wordless joy and an unending affection. She's smiling so brightly too.

The power of the two of them, with love like this, could change all the worlds for the better. Neither of them can, or will, accept that this combined power, or the backlash from splitting the whole, could destroy all the worlds just as easily.

"I'm not sorry," he says in a teasing low voice. "Only, if you find you haven't got time to tell anyone, tell me? I'll make sure I'm around," so that Nephrite doesn't have to wake Kunzite up if the jerk actually happens to be sleeping instead of working, "so you don't end up taking an opportunity when we're all elsewhere."

His eyes brighten just a little, and he reaches one of his hands up to brush at her temple, and his hand glows a gold bright enough to match her moonlight. Just as featherlight, the brush of his mind against hers. Tell me like this. I can feel your life from here, even when you're on the moon. You're brighter than it is.

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
Her guardians sometimes ask her, either with curiosity or exasperation, why she keeps coming down. She's watched him for years before, can't she go more than a week without seeing him in person?

She never has the words to describe it, at least not in a way that makes sense outside her own mind. Down here, with his arms around her waist and his forehead against hers, feeling both the warmth of his body and the warmth of his soul, she feels complete in a way she never is on the moon. Each time she leaves, a another small piece of her is left with him. One day, in the worst case scenario that comes to her mind only on the loneliest of nights, she even sees herself watching as he grows old and dies long before her first wrinkle. Well, outside the devastation that she dares not think about in any situation.

But she's not thinking about that now! For now, she is focused completely on him.

Her smile broadens when he admits he's not sorry, and her hand brushes against his cheek and settles along his jaw. "Probably would be for the best. I don't want to get Kunzite out of bed again."

She leans her face into his hand, eyes sliding close. From anyone else, even just this much would be an invasion. But she welcomes him, always, because it's where he's always been. It's where he belongs. I will.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Him growing old and withering and dying before her eternally-young eyes isn't something she'd have to worry about, though none of them knows it, but no one can tell the future anyway, can they? There are only ever hints. Who could see hints of destruction in the picture of mutually endless love in the bower?

Blue eyes meet blue, and in the shadows nearby, pragmatic grey eyes worry about it; in the shadows further away, jealous red eyes may not dream of it yet, but will, all too soon.

For now, for a little time, maybe a year or a bit more, there's this: blue eyes meet blue, and Endymion tilts his head so his lips can meet Serenity's, and this kiss is longer, sweeter, quieter.

The boy's dark hand is a lovely shadow against her glowing moonlight skin as he traces fingertips across her temple again, then curls his hand around the back of her head to support it. He tastes of apples and sunshine and smells of woodsmoke and earth. When he draws away, it's only a little, and he murmurs, "Let's go inside. It's warmer, and you can give Kunzite his cloak back and meet the puppies." This last is said as a grin brightens his face again, and then he draws away further, but doesn't let go of Serenity-- just lets his hand trail down her arm to meet her own.

Usagi Tsukino has posed:
And so, is it any wonder, then, here in the bower, surrounded by him, that she is unable to fathom the mindset many of her people have that his are barbaric? To her, he is Earth, and though she tries to see the world for what it is, jealous red eyes in the dark have always eluded her.

She breathes him in during the kiss, curling it and holding it tight in her chest. Her pale fingers dance along his neck, knowing without seeing that the same, beautiful contrast in color would be there if she looked.

She settles back when he does, almost sleepy and completely content. "Hmm." It's a hum and an affirmation.

All the sleepiness leaves her at the mention of puppies. She gasps, and suddenly she's trembling with barely contained glee. "Puppies? Like little baby dogs?"

She grips his hand in her, and he could probably feel her vibrating in place. "Oh, Endymion, are they cute and wiggly and floppy and cute and can I kiss their little noses?!"

She follows where he leads her, of course. She always will.

Kunzite has posed:
For once, these last few months, everything is right. Everything is warm, and good, and happy, and there are only the slightest hints of darkness to come seeping in. And there will be puppies, and everything will be right.

(For the second time, just for a moment, there is that hint of darkness, of pragmatic grey eyes and jealous red, and everything is not right. And this time, it does not entirely go away.)

She curls in on herself, trying to banish it, but the motion itself interrupts the dream a little; the warm and good lingers, but waking is coming to her now. All the same, some parts of the dream stay. Bunny sheets wrapped over her feel remarkably like the cape wrapped around her shoulders in the dream --

No. Bunny sheets are tangled up by her feet.

That's not one of Mamoru's blankets.

What she's lying under feels -- lighter than the dark cape she let Ami look at, a little. But warm. But it feels like --

It is.

White laid over her. Almost the same as in the dream, in the garden. But instead of that faint feel of cool protectiveness ... everywhere it touches her, her skin is crawling.

Kunzite's cape.

He was here.

While she was sleeping.