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Catherine Smith for Percival Adlard Jr..
The peppiest of widows~
This would have been very disturbing anyway but then Pet's eye popped out and started rolling along the bottom of the boat. Great. Maybe she would be so fortunate as to have a kraken surface nearby and pluck her off the ship with one of its tentacles and kindly drown her. Petra Sleptova in Land, Ho!
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"They are bigger," Tiberius insisted, though the difference wasn't as evident to his eyes as he had expected it to be. He bit his lower lip, then reached forward and placed both hands on her breasts. It wasn't that he was doubting himself — he knew they were bigger — but the sight of them alone was not, he realized, convincing. (Not that Antigone needed to be convinced, since she must have done this to herself, even if she wouldn't admit to it).

"They're — heavier, anyway," he said as he groped them. "Like — denser. What did you do to them?"
Now he really was being ridiculous. Since when was he the expert of breasts? "You could be a little more gentle!" He wasn't usually so heavy handed, although upon reflection that didn't usually bother her at all. How odd, she could only think of a couple times where that wouldn't have been the case but that was obviously not the case here. Probably she had just slept too heavily on her front and perhaps folded her bony arms underneath her and caused bruising. "I didn't do anything, if there's any difference it'd probably be because you keep touching them!" That was even better than her sleep theory and probably more likely. Mystery solved.

Tiberius scoffed. "It's not like they grow with attention," he said derisively. He kept his hands where they were, but did stop feeling around them the way he had been at her protest. Instead, he tried to give them a little bounce to see what would happen. She had never had enough breast to bounce, before — did she now? He wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that something was different, and that it was absolutely not his fault, whatever she said. Breasts didn't get larger just because one happened to be touching them more frequently.

(At least, he was fairly confident they didn't).
The subject of her bosom was starting to grow tedious and that had a little to do with the fact that the more he touched them the less pleasant it felt. He seemed to be intent on wobbling them now - which in fairness was rather novel but she wouldn't be mentioning that - and that was when she decided enough was enough. Tig grabbed his wrists in an effort to prize them off of her. "Maybe they do, I don't know and I don't really care. Find something else to touch if it's bothering you so very much!"

To say it was bothering him would have been a bit much — at least, the fact of the change didn't bother him so much as the fact that she wouldn't admit to whatever had caused it. He didn't believe that she really didn't know, or that she didn't care. How could someone just not know what was happening to their own body? No, she'd definitely caused this somehow, but for whatever reason, she wasn't going to talk about it.

Tiberius took his hands off of her breasts and put them in his lap, mostly for lack of anything better to do with them. The way the two of them were positioned on the bed made it look as though they'd just been fighting — both of them stretched away from each other, with a buffer between — and though that had clearly not been a proper fight he was a bit worried that there was no way to transition to what he'd actually come here for at this point.

After considering for a moment, Tiberius asked earnestly, "You wouldn't — do anything risky, would you? For... something like this, I mean." The clarification was necessary because obviously Antigone did risky things every day; she thrived on them. Given the confines of her Unbreakable Vow and the changeability of her mood, she assumed more risk just by leaving the house some days than other women might in their entire lives.
If she hadn't heard his question with absolute clarity she would have assumed she'd misheard. He wasn't still referring to her bosom was he? There was nothing else he could be referring to though. It was past ridiculous and straight into the realms of insulting. Tig slid off the bed and walked over to where her nightdress was. She started to bend over to grab it and then changed her mind, straightening up again and turning back around to glare furiously at him, hands on hips. The point would hopefully sink in a little better if she wasn't making it just after covering herself up again.

She thrust her chin into the air imperiously. "I would never alter myself so frivolously - risk or not - and I most certainly wouldn't do so to please you!"

Her motivation for continuing to lie about this was entirely a mystery to him. Still, he wasn't sure what he could do to further press the issue. She was clearly upset enough by this line of questioning already. Tiberius glared at her for a moment, meeting her gaze.

"Well they are bigger," he muttered sulkily. "Now are you just planning to stand there all night? I didn't come here just to look at you."
She narrowed her eyes back at him, doubtful that she'd made the impact she'd wanted to.

Tig folded her arms across her chest and diverted her eyes away from him, affecting an air of disdain. "I might be. I suddenly don't feel so obliging anymore..." It was a bluff, one she hoped he didn't see straight through but at least suspected enough to stop him from leaving in a huff.

Tiberius sat up on the edge of her bed, eyeing her as she turned away. He didn't want to leave, and he didn't think that she was seriously asking him to — not at such slight provocation, anyway. It wasn't like he'd made this whole thing up — it was her fault something had changed, and while she might be a little annoyed at having been caught, he didn't believe that she'd be so irritated she'd try to kick him out of the room.

Would it be better to just play it safe, though? This mutual intimacy that they had developed was still relatively new, and he didn't want to bring it to a violent end — but everything in him rebelled at the idea of just capitulating to her whims so easily and slinking out of the room like a dog with its tail between its legs. Besides, he didn't actually need her to participate — he didn't even need her to cooperate. He'd taken her struggling more than once, after a fight, and he could do it again. Just the idea of it was causing a stirring in him; his heart beat just a touch faster at the prospect.

"I don't remember asking how you felt," he challenged coolly.
It took all of her self-control to stop herself from openly smirking. He had either caught on or he was being obstinate for the sake of it but it didn't really matter either way, he was behaving just the way she'd wanted. A shiver of excitement threatened to give her away. "Well now you know, don't you?"

If he got up and started to leave now... Her jaw clenched as she waited to see if he would. He didn't seem as though he was in the mood to just leave though, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd acted contrary to her expectations and pissed her off.

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   Tiberius Lestrange
Tiberius regretted now that he had undressed before coming over here, because there had been no cause to bring his wand in either of the pockets of his housecoat. His inclination, though, was to use some sort of magic to pull her towards the bed, or constrain her in some way so that he could force her into a position he wanted her in. He didn't have his wand, though, so magic was off the table.

Well, physical means would work just as well, he supposed. Rising quickly, Tiberius crossed towards her. He grabbed her waist and pulled her in close to him, and used his other hand to guide her head towards his. When their lips met he forced his tongue into her mouth, kissing her violently.
The smirk finally broke free when it became clear that he was walking towards her rather than away from her. The icing on the cake was knowing that she'd provoked him into doing what she wanted and he didn't even know it. That was what she believed at any rate.

He had restricted much of her options for movement unless she tried to get away from him but she had passed the time for putting up a front against him, in fact she now needed him to know that his advances were not as unwelcome as she had suggested they would be. There was also a need to physically assert herself which she attempted to satisfy by leaning most of her body weight against him so she could push him back towards her bed. Feeling particularly brazen, she went so far as to snake her arm around him and abruptly place her hand in the vicinity of his rear.

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