Mozu's village
The ample apothecary jots down with charcoal the last sentence of her report with her plump hands, now coated in a thick layer of the impure graphite. She leans over to her right side with a grunt, feeling around of the dropped cloth she's been overusing to wipe away the access combustion while reading her report. Her small stomach rolls fold neatly into the lush hip he leans over, the soft adipose gives way as much as able, but the sheer mass of these fifty-six-inch hips still hold a barrier for Mozu, making effort physically to barely touch the ground next to her worktable she's kneeling over, writing away into the wee hours of the night. The folds of her stomach catch her strained robes, giving chance opportunity to test the fibers hold on her expanding body. She could feel this tug, is not for the hyper fixation of getting her report ready. The back of her left-handed sleeve wipes away the beads of sweat forming from her brow, trying to keep them from pouring down and catching in the deep pocket created by the tight crack between her thick double chin and neck.
"Report Conclusion: This variant of Dragon Herbs described in this report that was discovered in my last expedition with the Corrin Liberation Force hold similar properties to the nature of this new magical curse infecting both countries. Both the herb and host can hold a large amount of magical prowess that reacts intensively when combined with our forms. Though the Dragon Herb is usually a tonic distilled and ingested to give the user greater perimeter of ability, the curse is acting in a similar manner, able to have us hold a great amount of magical prowess, albeit presenting differently. Both personal observations and testaments from interviewed subjects show, despite the radical change in physical form, little is compromised in the ability to shift and move. Reports have shown energy is equal
to or greater than prior to cursed state. Long term ramifications-"
*riiiip*
The tearing of Mozu's outfit, catching in her folds and thighs while reaching for the cloth, revealing a thick layer of soft flesh, almost gasping when finally free from the confines of her modest clothing. The poor girl sighs while turning beat red, finishing the sentence she was looking over.
"-will need more longitudinal studies. I will be working on variation of distilling what Dragon Herbs I can find and report any other conclusions on curing or even housing the curse in a similar fashion."
Mozu places the thick stack of parchment upon her table, near it supplies to wrap it up to make it safe for travel. She finally pivots her mass around to find the bit of cloth she was looking for, reaching down for it while her right-hand attempts vainly to hold together the tear under her left arm. Her modest bust made the task possible, though the lush upper arms spanning close to a foot makes up for the fact, making the task still difficult, and amusing for onlookers to note this oversized woman trying to clean off the charcoal she's now covered in.
"Seems like just yesterday we were enjoying you making us a Potato Stew for the first time," a familiar voice from the agape front calls to the bell-shaped researcher, chiming her back to reality that she is not alone. She squeaks in shock and embarrassment, covering her face with the dirty hands, but releasing the ever-growing tear of the flimsy clothes.
"K-Kaze!? I thought you wouldn't be back for another week!?"
The Green-haired guest walks over the stacks of notes, herbs, and scrolls, the soft bottom of his footgear makes a sound. Standing in front of the beet-red mess of an herbalist, he gives a calm, slight smile. He kneels to grab the dropped cloth, then slowly reaches for one of the nervous hands covering Mozu's face.
"Our time apart is unbearable, my love. I am more used to you doing research back home. Besides, I could not let Saizo have all the fun in helping our wonderful queen."
The deep blush grows. The daring ninja always knew the right thing to say to this country gal that makes her quiver so. Mozu feels the cloth wiping the back of her hands, feeling the caked layer finally moving away. She dares to finally give herself a glimpse of her guest. The six-foot man of her life stares deep into her being with his dark purple eyes, glimmering like amethyst from the dimly lite candles giving illumination to her husband.
"Now please, let me see those hands of yours." He asks calmly, extending his hand out for the peeping eye to see. Cursing internally, she does so. It is impossible for her to say no to him, the calm and benevolent voice from such a stalwart figure means well against someone as timid as Mozu. Yet Kaze never abused this trust between them, never asking for anything out of turn. Its hard to wrap her head around how someone of her stature, nature, talent, and beauty would settle for someone like... herself. A fatty ball of anxiety and plain-Jane looks, nothing accents out that would make her feel alluring for anyone of even her position, let alone for Kaze. Even with the curse, it seemed to work against her, doing nothing for particular assets she always wished she had more of, that even a magical curse seemed to work against her. Yet ever since their time in Corrin's forces, and bonding over the mundane task of peeling potatoes, he has been hers and hers alone. Her all-too-common thought process is interrupted as Kaze has moved to her plump face, clearing off her graphite-smothered features with a new cloth he had on him.
