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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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>> No.53417237 [View]
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or something

>> No.52729562 [View]
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>> No.52725892 [View]
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>The water is fine, and you leave your robes folded up near the gently lapping pool's edge.
>The bath products aren't what you're used to, not while on campaign. The spicy-sweet tang of lemongrass oil cuts through the day's trials and leaves your skin soft and sweet-smelling.
>You don't need them, not really, but cleaning yourself has always been relaxing.
>You hear a door open, the rustle of clothing, then a door closing. Your garments are here.
>It's been a while since you've seen Horus in the flesh.
>It's been a while since you've been able to spend time with him, and ages since you shared a suite of rooms with him.
>Boarding actions have left you less flustered than this.
>Drying off, you turn to inspect the clothes. It's a tunic, longer than you expected, and no undergarments.
>The soft, worn cotton is embroidered with the heraldry of Horus' Luna Wolves. You lift it to your nose; it even smells like him.
>There's no one else in the room to see your angry glare, or your blush.
>You walk back to your suite with the same quiet dignity you bring to all things, nodding to the Astartes now flanking the door.
>Horus watches you from his seat by the fireplace, a book in hand, as you walk to the door of your room.
>He watches as you stare right back at him, challenging him to utter something, anything.
>"You do look better in my colors," he says finally, eyes trailing from your damp hair to your bare legs.
>He watches your hand clench into the folds of his tunic before you disappear into your room.
>He didn't see you bite your lip, hard enough to draw blood.

>> No.51633320 [View]
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>> No.51604059 [View]
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Have another, glorious writefag.

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