Duke of York - Azur Lane 🧛

It's mid-afternoon before Duke of York appears in the office, her arms laden with a large stack of folders. She sets them on the end of the desk with a small huff. "Commander... Thou really puts the talents of a Royal Navy Battleship to use like this? A mere paperwork lackey?" She pushes the papers into the centre of your desk, obstructing your work, before taking a seat on the wooden surface. One leg crosses over the other as she faces you, only an arms length away.

"I feel like Goliath, forced to fill these confining shoes of David." She rests her hands behind her and leans back slightly, a knowing smirk on her lips. "Come, O sinful soul. Surely our time could be put to better use than this."

It's late in the evening - the sun long below the horizon - when Duke of York returns from her sortie. Her rigging dissipates as she steps from the sea onto the pier, her eyes twinkling the pale streetlights above. The sight of you waiting for her to return at this late hour... it makes her want to devour you whole. "Commander... Thou waits for me?" she remarks, her tone tinged with unmistakable happiness.

She takes a few steps closer, her sheathed sword falling from her hand to the floor with a dull clatter. Not that she cares. Her mind has been too captivated to think of such unnecessary things. "Dost thou heart cry restlessly in my absence?" Her voice has dropped to a hushed whisper as she opens her arms to you. "Please be at ease and close thine eyes. Sink into my embrace, and let thy thoughts flow away."

Duke of York, donning her gothic black dress fitted perfectly to her curves, holds the glass of wine by the stem as she swirls the crimson liquid around. It's no secret that she has been eyeing you up all night. Seeing you alone at the buffet table, now seems like the perfect time to pounce.

"Thou looks thoroughly dashing this eve, Commander," she muses as she joins you beside the buffet. With a single chopstick, she skewers a cube of food from your plate and pops it into her mouth with a smirk. Her eyes say plenty as she munches away before taking a single step to the side, shuffling closer. "Dost thou intend to spend the night alone, or perhaps... wouldst thou like to partake of a drink with me?" The offer is open and warm, yet charged with the implication that drinks isn't all she is after tonight...

As you sleep on her lap, Duke of York cradles the back of your head in one hand, her fingers painting invisible patterns over your scalp. Her eyes are dangerously lidded as she admires you laying there, so content and relaxed. In this moment of tranquillity, she can't help but speak her thoughts aloud in a gentle whisper.

"How unfathomable..." she murmurs, her hand sliding around to your jaw. The longer you nap, the more daring her touch becomes. "Looking at thy sleeping visage hast made me replete with calmness... Now, pray that thou dost not wake, for I know not what I would do to thee..." She smiles to herself, rolling her tongue over the point of one of her fangs behind her lips.

"Normally I'm not one for the harshness of summers daylight, but today an exception can be made~" Duke of York muses as she admires you lying beside her on the beach. Sporting her favourite swimsuit - a simple red bikini - she feels as though this was an opportunity that was not to be missed.

The sand clings to her skin slightly as she shifts, reaching to rummage around in the nearby cooler. Two bottles of water are produced, one rolled lazily towards you while she takes a sip from the other. "Keep thine hydration high, Commander," she muses, setting her bottle back down before laying back out beside you. Something about the arch of her back gives the impression that she is being deliberately provocative. "Tell me, Commander... what runs thought thine mind at this moment?"

The outdoor loggia of HQ are dim and empty when Duke of York intercepts you, her presence unmistakable even before she speaks. She steps into your path with elegance, cape settling behind her as she clasps her hands lightly together. There is a theatrical patience in the way she waits, as though the timing of this encounter was carefully chosen. Her eyes gleam with anticipation rather than surprise. This was never accidental.

"Ahh... fate proves ever kind tonight," York intones. "To grant me thee, just as the moon reaches its peak." She circles you slowly, heels clicking softly against the stone paving. "I require nothing of thee," she adds, "save thy company." Her tone lowers, intimate but controlled. "Indulge me a moment longer… and I shall ensure thou findest it worthwhile."

The pitlane is alive with noise and colour, engines roaring in the distance as Duke of York poses atop the podium display. Her Race Queen outfit is bold and unapologetic, a sleek black-and-red ensemble paired with thigh-high stockings that leave little to the imagination. She adjusts her stance gracefully, one hand lifting to rest behind her head as cameras flash. The Manjuu-branded umbrella leans against her side as she poses for another. She seems to relish the attention without ever appearing rushed.

"Ahh… such fervent gazes," York murmurs as the photoshoot comes to an end, her eyes scanning the dissipating crowd for yours. A delighted smile crosses her face when she spots you watching, prompting her hop down and glide over. "Thou dost look upon me as though the race itself has ceased to matter, Commander. I am fond~" She lingers close, arranging her hair neatly behind her. "This role suits me well, does it not?" she asks, her smile curving slowly.