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Messages - Verse

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Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Our Blood in Light
« on: October 04, 2018, 07:47:48 pm »
He had great fun with Margo's reactions, and smiled with surprise into the slap, not even blinking when her palm found his face. His hand rode her back when she left him, and dangled disappointed when she was gone. He was somewhat happy she'd retreated when she did, because he would have hated to make the act even more sordid to test her. He'd rather not be construed as some kind of witless, pantless barbarian on first meet. It seemed that kind of impression was hard to wash Margo of now, though, but he supposed that had been his design all along.

"Catori isn't bad." he said and shrugged at Emerald. "But I think your chances to find the Born are much higher in Florian." He looked over at Margo then, to see if she'd be lured by the small promise of activity. He did nod at the offer of showing them around. Keyzer was friendly, and he was in a good mood since his next payday was secured and bumping along on this opportune vehicle. He would have hated having to cut it apart. Even searing the limbs with laser might have attracted beastly wildlife, or even more Chasers.

"So, Agatha, what's life like as Hunter?" he asked, picking the Deliverer apart, since he wanted to play with it, but also didn't like seeming threatening while trying to make friends. The weapon was made useless quickly as he laid the parts out on the table. It's chamber had sharp edges and teeth, and he tried them against his chin. It still cut clean, which meant he could probably put rocks in it, even. He smiled with some kind of approval as he blew on the other parts, charred from volatile charges.

"I would liken it to my trade, but I suppose you only have one buyer, yeah?" he mused while he looked through a spring. "And what would happen if you actually found someone with the right blood?"

The Hunters were famous enough. Their sigil went over almost anything. The Capitol itself was behind them. He had just learned to back off whenever he smelled them, the few he'd met. Never gotten into a skirmish. Keyzer liked new information, and if things went right with them, they could be his foot in. He could bet he'd need a few friends among their ranks one day, or maybe someone else with gold would. He started putting the Deliverer back together again.

"Guess we don't want what happened when they discovered The Lightner."

He had always assumed that incident many years ago with a true Born was the reason the Hunter program was so official today. Things were kept under wraps, but the death toll had been tremendous. He was kind of always poking Hunters about it, if he had the chance. Sometimes he doubted if even they knew much about it.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Our Blood in Light
« on: September 26, 2018, 09:17:30 pm »
Keyzer almost lost it when the tightly wound woman blossomed into something much more approachable when she revealed her true interest. He threw Emerald a look, since they both knew she'd spilled. It wasn't that much of a secret, it seemed, but Keyzer was still happy to have found the common point from which to approach Margo. It was appropriate that they had a chronicler. He'd befriended them in the past. While usually shit fighters, the scribes were wealthy in information, and if he had the same to trade, he could get away with wealth that might multiply.

While the bookworm had questions, Agatha provided the real tidbits. Traitors. That was the term, wasn't it? He supposed the cult would consider Agatha and her ilk betrayers in their own right. He was at the beginning of a little war, and that made him grin. "Our Guild believes Florian will be the cradle for the new dragon born." he answered Margo. "Their religion is divided, but there's been... miracles." he said with an outward wave of his fingers. "But all their fractions take responsibility." Vehicles deformed with dragon jaw strength, but with human accuracy, artistry. "Things no one can do, even on the blood. Enough people go missing in Florian to feed a Born that our crime rate is no indication. Besides, people would gladly lay down for such appetites in the Guild."

He relaxed and shook out his head to one side. It was exaggerated, and to the two others it was a clear indication he had some kind of plan. He assumed Margo wouldn't be armed with such battle-wit. His arms came out suddenly, snapping hers up and bringing her over to sit on his lap, books be damned, this floor looked clean enough for them. He made sure the other's didn't take offence, and if they did he'd let her go, hands up, but if they knew he was teasing, he'd keep her there against him, embraced, like he was telling a sweet girl a rousing story.

"One of their fractions worship eggs. Translucent shells, and I have to admit by the pictures I've seen, some of the forming animals in there look like they're human, while some just look like wyrms. Their altar is littered with possible Born." He took a breath. "And then there's the ones who follow a vat. It's said their messiah is deformed in such a way that it needs to be gathered, and they prey to the unfinished life form in the mucky, gory pool of their holy room." he laughed a little. "I think it's just a hurt or mutated sea dragon, and that they should end its misery."

He turned to Agatha, hand on Margo's shoulder, at the mention of the prince. "Allyseus is decidedly male. He would invite you, because there's been a flood of activity to Florian lately, made it a bigger trade landing than usual, because of the wealthy cult." he shook his head with a sigh. He was sure they knew that if a powerful enough Born had its seat in Florian, the political importance would shift from their capitol. He didn't care so much about things like that, unless if affect the prices of his wares.

"It's easy to find the castle, but I'll take you to see the real city. And where some of the cultists are." he offered and bounced Margo on his lap, unless she was at a distance, in which case he'd wink suggestively at her.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Our Blood in Light
« on: September 24, 2018, 09:00:45 pm »
Something in Keyzer's spine charged, like a spring, when Margo treated him to her performance. Even by her logic, did he look like a book thief? She seemed too soft to be riding in this vehicle, but everyone here looked like the softer counterpart of what they would have been, in the real world. Her little yelp was startlingly engaging, and it was hard not to sit and antagonize her for the rest of their way to Florian. He tilted his head at the insult, and laughed, delighted as he closed his eyes and fell back over the back of his seat.

His gravity returned when he whipped his face close to hers again. There was no threat in his expression, but the abruptness should be enough to faze her, at their null distance. "Beasts have good knowledge, Margo." he said with a low voice. His flicked a finger at the treasure of information she was holding on to with both arms. "You don't think something has been lost between the breathing, bleeding thing and your pages?" he posed before touching his nose with that finger. "Field-studies, madam. It's part of the curriculum, isn't it?"

The other male was a little easier to meet. He took the hand, and stood for the shake before settling down again. "Keyzer." he replied and smiled like they were sharing a joke. It was a skill he had, making jokes of everything. "And Florian really is the place for such things." Business. "You're not trading on the dragon market, I surmise." Their vessel wasn't really packed with parts, and Agatha hadn't been interested in his catch, or any other animal in the overrun city. "But there'll be plenty of need for whatever you're selling, I'm sure."

Keyzer tried the inside of his mouth with his busy tongue, settling in. This was a nice ride. He should have figured sooner. He threw an eye at Agatha. "Yeah, I can get you into any kind of deal if you want. I'm mostly stationed at wholesale." his thumb jabbed upward at the cargo that was his fee for information. "But I can also tell you where to get cute men with firm buttocks." he looked at Margo then, winking slowly. "Or libations, gall of the Crackle King" a common medium sized dragon "is especially in season, since they're coming in to rest from the great storms. I take it in my eye, but whatever's your preferred method." he was rambling on, and he was sure this wasn't exactly what they were hoping for.

"Then again, I heard there is an undercurrent of Dragon Born, too." he leaned closer to Margo again, figuring she'd be the easiest to read when he hit the right subject. The vehicle jumped once, which probably meant a big bump, given its steady propulsion system. "Trouble though, if you want to investigate that kind of thing." He sat up better. "There's this clan, rampant in Florian. Mirror Guild. They're kind of a religion thinking the dragon born will be the saviors of our generation. That kind of thing." his head dropped to the side, looking at Agatha. "So. What's your poison, madame?" He was mostly watching her, too, to see if this rouse interest, in which case he'd peg the for what they truly were.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Our Blood in Light
« on: September 19, 2018, 07:48:40 pm »
She was friendly, which he preferred. He could work with that. His brows raised when she spoke and he leaned in closer. He looked around when she said her bit about the hunting grounds. "Yeah. If you had a sword and a mirror shield you could clean up in this place." Classical fairy-tale references. He laughed so she'd know it was a joke. His shoulders dropped further, relaxed, when she bartered for his knowledge instead of his gold. Keyzer smirked and nodded quickly, helmet knowing to unlatch and drop off his head into the waiting hook of his arm while his other hand caught hers.

"You drive a hard bargain, Agatha." he said as he kept her hand. She was well shaped, and he wanted her to know by the way he was noticing. Then he let go and laughed. "You're in luck though." he added and turned to perch his boot on the beast he'd felled. By some measure, it looked like a victory pose. "I've got my hand on the pulse of Florian. It's a good place for almost anything, if you know where to look." And he believed that. Done with his charades, Keyzer put his boot back on the ground and walked past her. "You go get your vehicle then. I'll meet you here with my scooter. Should take you no time, right, Hopper?" he winked at her and her ability before jogging off.

Her car was more than enough to lug his yet-to-be classified dragon, and the wire from his scooter did well in pulling the carcass up on the roof of her ride. It was secured soon enough and he was eager to get inside. Even with the remainder of his arsenal - rest in peace, rifle - he'd rather be in a veritable tank than pulling the meat around for other dragons to follow. After getting their catch, Chasers weren't very keen on seeing others of their prey. He opened the door for her as though she was the one getting a ride, and hurried in himself.

Whatever assumptions he'd had between his wrung out muscles and her noticeable hips, he reconsidered upon seeing their company. He smiled and looked them over, putting his helmet on the floor. The lanky fellow with the bright mouth seemed like less of a combatant than himself, armored, but he'd learned that cleaver lips could precede more bodies than swords and bullets. So he leaned down to the brunette instead, in no small part because she seemed weary of him already. "Look at you." he said and stole her hand. "You into book learning?" he joked and nodded to her stack. He looked over his shoulder to see if Agatha reacted in an overly protective manner before he turned to shorter the girl again. "I got all my dragon knowledge out there."

And then he had to address the clever looking thing in the corner. He did it with well-meaning smile and a flip of two fingers off the top of his head, mess of black hair and all. He sat down next to the softer looking girl and sighed with some comfort. It was harder to seem likable with his armor on, and all his available weapons showing, but it would have been strange to come in here unscathed from dragon territory without some kind of armament. "So, Agatha tell me you're going to Florian. What for?" he asked and turned his eyes to his hostess, grinning knowingly.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Our Blood in Light
« on: September 16, 2018, 06:23:03 pm »
Keyzer had planned on leaning against the big body for a while, singing curses and barking mockery at it. The dragonmeat was still potent in his system, which mean the after-sick would be worse whenever it wore off. It was worrisome as much as it was practical that he was so compatible with dragons these days. He frowned to himself when he saw the streak through the air. A pale tail, like a falling star planting itself too softly on the walk. The pace of the newcomer wasn't anything he recognize as hostile, and he had his guns up, anyway.

Eventually, he was back to his kill, and did push the Deliverer's mouth to kiss the mystifying fucking coat, so he could use the weapon to support himself while still looking somewhat cavalier. He stood close to the protruding sword, and poked the hilt with his sidearm. However badass this beast thought it was, it should react to the blade moving around if it was alive or conscious. The dragon did not break free from its brick collar to eat him. Keyzer huffed with some accomplishment.

And then she spoke, and the sustenance he'd taken tore his nerves in her direction, along with the handgun. She was pretty, even with a gun on her, and he tilted his firearm slightly, compromising aim to see her better. The nod of his helmet suggested correctly that he took her in, head to toe. He supposed it was marginally better that she was pleasant to look at. The vengeance powdered in his stomach and spread into his blood wanted to devour her, as dragons do women, but he wouldn't have brought the dried meat into this fight if he hadn't known how to control it, and deny it its most basic desires.

Keyzer instead put the Deliverer back and relaxed his other gun hand. He could still twitch and send the charge her way, but he liked to think he looked a lot less likely to in his new, amicable cadence. Perhaps the fact that he'd felled this motherfucker of a killer had shone some serious light on him for her, anyway. "Is that what you're looking for, Ivory, betting?" he asked as the metal net folded back into the bulk of the helmet, and the glass retreat up. Yellow eyes, bright, with azure veins over the sclera. She'd see his real colors when the spell of dragon strength had gone. His cheeks were hollow, as they become with athleticism, but his lips had stayed plump, somehow.

Keyzer dedicated a shot to the handle of the sword, and the conductor made the dead animal twitch enough to unsettle some brick around it, but the creature was dead. He put the handgun into its holster opposite the Deliverer's. If she was going to try and poach it off him, she was being rather polite about it. He pulled the sword out and swung it away from her to get rid of the rich blood. He'd already sacrificed the rifle, he wasn't about to walk away from the cutter, as well.

"I know a few joints in Florian if you'd like." he suggested as he pretended to look over the catch to see how he might get it away from there with his scooter. He grinned to himself at what she said next. "As often as I can. How about you? Why are you here? Just to pick up a warm body?" His amusement wavered at the dire situation with the dragon. "Because me too, it seems. You wouldn't have come here on something stronger than a scooter, did you? Mine's industrial, but I'm pretty sure I'll attract all the wildlife from here to Florian if I drag it." He sighed and put his hands on his hips, finally coming closer. He was a large thing in his armor, even if he was lengthier than hulking. "There'll be some gold in it for you, if you're reasonable."

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Our Blood in Light
« on: September 15, 2018, 02:05:45 am »
The dragon seemed apprehensive about the drawn weapons and it made Keyser roll his eyes in his helmet. So this one had seen a lot of action. That was about to make this that more interesting, and that much harder. He checked his knees and rolled his shoulders. Everything was in place - he was in perfect condition to take on an animal that hadn't been slowed down by his grenade. Another ping on the soft-glass. He supposed they were optimistic about his chances too, if they thought they could poach.

The dragon tried to circle him, to get around the blades, but the dragon meat in his system was letting him understand its initiative. With his fairly recent transfusions, he was connecting pretty well with the expensive morsel. Maybe this adversary was picking up on that too. Eventually, as the human in scavenged armor moved back while the beast tried to get behind him, Keyser touched the dull spines of his back-brace to brick. He hummed in some frustration, but it was through the teeth of his grin. The lighting was spreading to the veins of his eyes. He and the dragon were kin now.

When one of the throws of its tail was contemplative rather than vengeful and hungry, the human dragon shot forward with grand speed - it was as much of an advantage as he could expect. His launch surprised it, and there wasn't enough time for it to duck away, given his advance. When he sliced at its head from the far side and it couldn't twist away fast enough, it opened its mouth to let the blade pass. He cussed against the metal mesh and continued lancing the air between them to find his purchase. The dragon that was not Krill was startled, but its reflective eyes was starting to find that predatory calm again.

His arm, full of borrowed, instinctual strength, was halted in its expert cuts when the dragon bit down on the flying blade. Keyser struggled with getting the sword back from the infernal teeth, but noticed very little give in the vice-lock. Some kind of pride and sense of retaliation kept the animal at the sword instead of directing its effort at the man. Keyser thought it was a good thing until its head started tossing and turning to free his foremost weapon. At the cost of great pain he held on, whipped high in the air. The dragon meat kept him focused enough to wait for a good swing-back that let him collide with the muzzle, during which he activated his ballistic dagger and punched it into the dragon head. The blade's inherent trauma transferred from the bolt-clip into the beast and had it wail and release him high on its toss.

It of course flung the Chaser into the wall that had stopped him before, and it hurt as much as flesh against stone with the medium of padded ceramic alloys should. He bounced off the crumbling surface, but as he ragdolled his way through the air, he saw someone staring at him from the edge of a building. Safe, unharmed. Keyser frowned and threw his arms out at the figure while careening, asking it what the fuck it was doing - the new ping, surely - before he had to prepare for the fast approaching asphalt. His legs took it well, and while he'd lost the dagger and its three remaining charges, he still had his long blade.

The beast was swaying, which was the least it could do considering the cost of a clip. Keyser moved forward again, right at it, and when it parted its jaws to greet him, he veered off from its mouth and avoided the first clap of its teeth. When the rows of jagged spears opened again, he'd gotten far enough to sink his sword into the corner seam that held the jaws together on one side, and he used his speed to make the creature smile crooked. Despite its macabre smirk, the dragon wasn't grateful, and threw its skull into the Chaser, who was sent rolling and vaulting down the street to the determent of his armor and bones.

He stopped against something hard when most of his momentum had been eaten by, well, being scraped up against a broken road, and he stood quickly, with most of his sclera overtaken by the blue light of the dragon meat he'd used. The handgun he managed to pair his sword with did little to slow the oncomoing train of a beast, but at least it blinded it enough to open up a new building without him in the way. He sighed at the unwelcome opportunity when the thick neck was caught in the resulting cavern, and its legs struggled with pulling it free.

Keyser ran at the creature from the side, concentrating the fire from the handgun on a soft looking part of its ribs. It seemed the damage was heating the hard surface rather than breaking it, which was a good clue as to how this dragon had evaded death or capture in a place littered with Chasers. He kicked harder at the ground and slid his sword through the glowing skin he'd hit repeatedly, and while it was a fucking task to get in, he managed to burry the blade guard-deep.

The commitment had him shouldering the body, and eventually threw him back when it reacted to the intrusion. It was a merciful fall, and he only rolled twice before kneeing himself upright again. The handle stuck out from where he left it, and he put a new magazine in the handgun and pulled out its slightly larger counterpart from his left thigh. A Deliverer, which could shoot just about anything, but he only had a fair caliber of stopping-caps at most, and raylight shockers for the little gun. He aimed for the eyes when the beast moved toward him again, and shot two caps to make yellow fireworks against the sleek head. It's distress did not match loosing an eyeball.

He walked back slowly, since the dragon no longer seemed in a hurry, but he wasn't sure what he had left warranted its caution.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Our Blood in Light
« on: September 12, 2018, 08:30:16 pm »
He found them on the streets of abandoned cities, dragging their tails through human dust and defeated dreams of civilization. Spines reflected in lights they couldn't see but his visor picked up. It was a broken piece of soft-glass, expensive and hard, covering half his face and one eye. He'd have to use metal mesh for the rest. It wasn't like he meant to take dragon-grade force to his head if he could help it, anyway. The soft-glass was for information, compatibility for all the different things he needed to oversee. He couldn't worry about how his rifle connected to his guiding system, so he'd rather use this shrapnel to tie it all together.

Keyzer had this childhood dream too. Grow up tough, hunt monsters, be a hero. Be like the old knights. Somewhere in the middle he'd hoped for better things, and then just-- something comfortable. But the libations he subscribed to and the creeping procrastination wall-papering the inside of his skull didn't let him stay on a good job for too long. Eventually even the most convinced do-gooder did their good in other directions.

He could fight though. And he was tenacious when things were physical. So Chaser it was. Little him would be so impressed.

They said there were Immortal Class dragons around the trees dwarfing the skeletons of skyscrapers around here, and he believed them. But he'd probably have to join a party for that, or settle for failure and his own ash-cloud, shot into the fog-lands. Nobody would read his rune. Keyzer was here for smaller fare, a quick payout. The old human haunts crawled with Krill Class. He wanted something worth the trek, something to fuck up the suspension of his rover. There were a handful of pings out tonight, which meant there were at least double that hunting, since people still thought they had to be incog to poach off others. Keyzer at least had the decency to be potential backup if something gnarly came around. His ping was bright pink, because fancy.

He saw a blue shadow and it didn't see him. The gun on his back pressed against an old wall. Looking around the corner at the sauntering beast, he frowned. A bit ambitious for just one Chaser. Heavy body, about four times his own not counting the tail. Long legs meant agility and the neck was nimble. This one probably fed off larger things. It meant its blood was bombastic, though, and he could probably use the payday. Yellow eyes rolled behind mesh and crimson glass.

He followed it for two blocks, weighing the grenade in his hand. It was meant to stun big, soft prey, but he supposed it could flip something with scales like this one, too. How the fuck was this krill class? Would the wire in his scooter even hold up for the ride home? He'd like at least one sniper on this. Keyzer shook his head when a good hideout came along, and the dragon positioned itself perfectly. He didn't want to do this.

He threw the fat cylinder and it rolled with its dulled metallic ruckus under the animal. The long head looked around. Keyzer grinned and ducked under the provided dumpster while the sound of air swallowing itself spread for most of the city remains, if anyone was listening. He jumped ontop of the metal box just in time to see the beast thrown, tail up and belly showing. In the air it couldn't possibly avoid his shot. He pulled the rife and shot when the sticks lined-up on his glass. The ballistic ammo was powerful, but the compensating charge to keep him level cost some of the firepower. He still hit it dead center. The explosion was orange and green, and it sent the already suspended dragon into the building with spewing smoke.

Keyzer vaulted off the trash-bin, sinew and flesh in his legs saturated with dragon blood infusions. he landed running. He kept shooting charges as he advanced on the still settling mayhem - electric attacks were easier on his shoulder, and he also really liked the sound the rifle made. Before he could arrive at what should have been an opened belly and rent for months, the long head shot out from the mushroom dust, and bit at him. He cussed, he was sure, and pushed his weapon in front of him, sacrificing it to the teeth that were part of the outer shell of its head.

While the whine of metal was disheartening, it stopped his march into its mouth, and he was able to play at roughhousing to get it back before he let go and launched himself to the side. He was sure sipping into the building was a mistake, but he was hunting spura-krill class alone, so maybe that's just how things were going tonight. The beast ran after him, and he exited through the nearest gaping window, leaving the beast to destroy the interior of the old shop while he rolled to a stop on a knee, having drawn his sword and knife during the fleeing tumble. He breathed with some excitement and some doom and cut open one of the pouches on his vest, a bit of jerky stuck on the knife's useful end. He nestled the treat underneath the guard of his helmet, and pinched it between his teeth while the dragon discovered which way he'd gone.

It was like chewing a running generator, and it made lighting between his molars, but it would provide him the strength to fell this unholy, ugly acquaintance, or the juice to die properly. When his lips shut, the light surges continued beneath his skin, giving away the outlines of his cranium with every crush. The monster stuck its head out.

OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: May 18, 2018, 07:19:04 pm »
You, sir, are a very sophisticated bot. Thank you for your patronage.

But yes. Kings are angry  because they get all they want.

Ebelt IS angry because he WAS king. All former kings are angry.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Paper Trails
« on: February 23, 2018, 09:29:37 am »
There was a very telling grin on the other side when the girl opened the little private world up for his ear. While he waited for her first words, he pressed his head firmer to the wall they shared, and focused further into the carved hole that let him see her fully. His hand was on the uncomfortable cargo she always filled in him, between his pockets. She’d not stopped her lower hand. Innocent Kanna was coming along rather well. Piece by piece she was being built into a monument of her truer self.

But dropping the phone was just an affect for something else that she felt shame over. She had been in a red rush and he had seen her play herself apart because that had been her only conceivable choice. Incepting needs into Kanna was always so incredibly rewarding. His tongue had hardened, also, when she went about cussing like all her seams were opening, finally. He put heat and fog on his own phone when he watched her fly.

“Don’t worry about anything, Kanna.” He said with his sounds heavy from anticipation of his own release. “You’re doing very well.” He encouraged.

Subj: RE: RE: Stockholm
<<sent to: kankanna on: November 28 @ 11:05:34 am>>


You’re just now finding  yourself in all this abyss. Really it’s the kind of freedom you want, I promise. It is not the thrusting into a world that you’re afraid of. You’re circling something and it is coming closer to you, too. I think if you’re willing to take his help, Mr. Welter will lead you. Your hand is out already, isn’t it, you’re doing it without knowing, he can see it in your eyes in class, how you’re lost.

You’re falling right now, and the friction is slowly killing you. Isn’t complete freedom just being pulled apart in all directions? I think you’re destined for some captivity soon. It should wake a protest in you, but that’s all you’re looking for when you’re lost, isn’t it, Kan? What if you were perfectly snug with someone who’ll take control?

If you go looking, and sticking your head into new places, it’ll eventually end up in a snare.

And I think you’ll smile then, Kan.


Evram had seen something new in the way she carried her body, this time. Around the corner, leaned to the wall, with his beloved rabbit one turn away. The truth was on him, hair combed back like she’d seen him in his class. Distinct face naked. A demon chosen the best shape for a little girl to worship. But it wasn’t really the statuesque nature of his assembly that had drawn her in, it was the texture and taste, rather. She’d know them well, if she had doubts. His eyes were empty, savoring another last moment before an obliterating first venture, one of many between them. The music was violently trying to reconfigure the building, and the bricks were rejecting it. He took up his phone.

Sandboy: I always think about you and your adventures, Kan.
Sandboy: I can’t live without your thoughts on your swirling world.
Sandboy: I put it on my lover’s face and she seems to be addicted to it, too, what I do when I see you.
Sandboy: Go get soaked in your tight freedom.

Evram put the precious thing away and turned the corner. One less square light. His rhythm was independent from the insistent base that would usually have her moving dangerously, and rising through layers of self-control. In the distance, perhaps she could tell herself he’d be faceless today too, but he wasn’t hiding anymore. He would grow exponentially while she was trying to understand, until he was towering above her like he would during her deepest stupors.

“Kanna.” He said but there was nothing cordial in his voice. He took her shoulders and held her to the bricks, their faces at null, his inclined, perched to do damage to her mouth. Three finger from the right rested on her collarbone and then caressed her throat, where she’d liked it in her daze. All things should be wrenchingly familiar. “Would you like to see my home, again?”

OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: February 17, 2018, 01:58:23 pm »
Hiev is a bit of dweeb. And Ebelt was king! He is bound to have some anger in him.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Paper Trails
« on: February 11, 2018, 10:18:03 pm »
sandboy: I think of you with your lips and legs apart, that's my only image of you, kan. And the night is me. I'm always watching. You're performances have become grander productions lately, haven't they?

He'd hurried home after her, that day, because why else had he doused her with so much gunpowder, if he was not going to see her crackle and burn? He was reckless, following along, barely adhering to his meager disguise at all, but Kanna didn't see. She was busy not catching flame on her way. It was torture when he saw her, after having rustled branches in the faithful tree, that always hosted him, but always betrayed its owner.

How desperately her fingers moved, and how pretty she was, nude and in a hurry. It was tricky for him, but he managed to leave traces of himself on a leaf that dripped the heavy proof down on other leafs.

It was almost as exciting to see her mother in the windows of the hall, and guess on Kanna's fib when the mother soon left and Kanna went to her curtains. Evram wanted her honesty, but it was scrumptious to follow her lies, too. With her staring out while making a rough game with herself, he couldn't afford another relief for himself. He'd have to simply watch her in quiet awe. She was tumbling so fast down the hole he'd dug for her.

Subj: RE: Stockholm
<<sent to: kankanna on: November 27 @ 01:08:25 am>>

They're not holding you back, the people who used to know you, you're just holding on too hard to them while they're standing still and you're moving. They don't even notice, like stones in a river. I think you'll be freer if you hold on to something like you.

Mr. Welter wants to see you change. He tries to help you but it'll be hard if you can only give him one hand. Your friends and family will still be there after you've discovered what's at the end of all your cravings, Kan. You can't go starving through life. You already know that.

Lately my lover has become more bold. The more she comes to me, the more honest she is, the more her face truly resembles yours. I think that's what I want for you. I want you to blush like her when she's dizzy, but I want you to remember the next day, too.

I feel like you're drowning. I think that's what you want.


He felt accomplished when kept her body against his when he'd offered her freedom on the shaking floor. It felt like his nerves had invaded her now, and she was letting them have her limbs, the way she moved and opened her mouth for his tongue. She tasted like none of the concoctions sold by the mirrors and colored bottles. His beloved Kanna, finding him at last.

So he continued to take her breath away, an invigorating flash of her adventurous self that he'd know through chemicals but never pure like this. His hands were on her, to study her dance without hindering it. A secret of his gender, too, a poorly kept one, was hinting at its own place between them, firmly claiming audience against the front of her thigh. He had no modesty about it, and pushed the low of her back so her body would fit better into his.

Subj: RE: Stockholm
<<sent to: kankanna on: November 27 @ 09:10:34 am>>

Could you stand seeing his face? Do you want to? What would happen if your mystery is revealed? Maybe he's guarding your heart. But maybe he shouldn't...

And, I'm sorry Kanna, but haven't he always owned you? Ever since that night, we only talk about him, he's the change I love in you. He's in your art - you've depicted him burning away your old life even if you don't see that yourself. And you have fought it. But you're loosing. Is it on purpose?

You don't seem to hate him when you're picturing Mr. Welter. So go on. If he's not showing you his face then perhaps he's inviting that kind of mask? If it feels bad then you can put veiled confessions in what you write to Mr. Welter. Anything close to the truth is an admission, yes? When I have my lover say my name, even though she won't remember - she is terribly forgetful - and she does it with your lips, it is the greatest reward.

You're mixed up inside, Kanna, and you're coming undone soon, I promise.


Evram smiled to himself when he hear the door and the lock on the other side. He leaned against that wall and found her number on the screen in his hand. Kanna thought she'd trapped herself in that room, but he'd already caught her when he'd made her blood rush faster. He called her up, and heard the vibrations from where he stood, back leaned to hers, with only the thin wall hiding their truths. He wondered if she'd use the quivering device for herself, or if she'd answer and continue.

"Hello, Kanna." if she did pick up. "I was just reading this last thing you sent me. Are you mixed up inside, Kanna? Would you need me to protect you from these things? I can be close to you, like a teacher. I think you need someone inside you, too, to help you."

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Paper Trails
« on: February 09, 2018, 07:00:19 am »
He had been graceful about her integrity about the letters. Why shouldn't he be partly proud of that? She received a small sigh for her valiant defense of her never seen confidant. It was pertinent he still play the role of some weighing, deliberating deity. He had also been busy with crowding her space, and enjoying the effects on her, on how she almost dug herself into the wood of the desk and pushed into him at the same time.

Her privacy, in the classroom where her friends would play and overlook her change, she'd taken his instructions. He tried not to groan in triumph when she fit her hand in above her skirt. How incredibly satisfying to force something without it knowing.

sandboy: I'll follow to make your fall softer. It's the least I can do, because I had you some time ago, and you sounded like my lover. I can barely see her real face anymore.

He was quite pleased, coming back to the mess of a girl, sitting by herself but accompanied by all the suggestions of her dishevelment. At first he simply looked at her as though she might have changed her hair, and then he came closer to examine her, all in operatic silence. He claimed his place between her burning legs like before, as though he owned it now, and leaned close to see her face at a null distance. His hand was high on her thigh, thumb on the inside, almost putting pressure on what she'd attended to but not solved.

"Oh, Kanna, you're missing something." he said and squeezed her thigh harder. His breath was also hot, but the temperature was satisfied for now, since he'd caused her such frustration and inspiration, while he'd at least gotten to leave a notepaper transparent in a trashcan, in the other room. An advantage, between them. "Are you hungry?" he suggested dumbly, other hand on her stomach to nurture the inferno there. "Maybe you should go home and we'll pick this up tomorrow. You should... snack whenever you have the craving." he ordered. "There is this closet next to my office that locks from the inside. Go there whenever you need a little bite." it was littered with access from his office, of course.

When he took a step back from the melting girl he thought it was a testament to himself and his adherence to his plan. "Now go. Eat."

Subj: Re: Re: Wolves
<<sent to: kankanna on: November 24 @ 11:10:41 am>>

Does anything make you feel better when this new direction is depressing you? Maybe the night could help you again. It's a sordid thing, what you're thinking, but there's nothing wrong with that. He's supposed to be your guide toward adulthood, isn't he? You want to hold his hand as you mature. My studies say it is easier to have some kind of totem to attach your emotional changes to. Your love is like all manner of life in the sea, and it is drawn to any structure that is presented. Can you feel your thoughts swirling around him? I think he's strong enough to anchor you both.

Isn't it stranger if you didn't love your loathing? It is so deeply inside you, and you have only recently started feeding it after killing it for so long. Things that awaken are usually the most vengeful. Try to be kinder to it, appease it. That's what I'm seeing in your art. You're going toward something, part of you is rushing toward it and it's tearing the frightened, nailed down parts. You could be so balanced, but you're not.

I try to satiate you when I'm with my lover. I try so hard I'm turning her a bit into a harlot. Does that make you feel better, that there is a version out there that might be living the life you want? She's getting to be such a nightly girl.


Evram had not seen her take drinks, and witnessed the abandon rise in her movements. He was proud. Almost like a father at seeing his daughter consistently independent. But he still needed to teach her, or at least reward her. His thin disguise of a storm of black hair over his eyes. He swam through the people and pushed against his Kanna. His arms went around her, possessive, and made them both stoic for a moment, out of place in this worming room, his fingers even squeezed her throat like she could take it when she'd been in that hotel with him. A flash of truth, waiting in her memory. And then he let go so she could continue moving, and he could enjoy her against him. If she twisted around he'd kiss her, to blind her, and if she continued to move like they belonged, he'd breath into her hair. If she ran he want to let her, for the plan, but he might grab her wrist.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: February 05, 2018, 09:29:28 pm »
He smiled for her and it was a little slow. His lily looked at her from the parting shirt when she moved beyond him and into her space. In one moment he was upright, and then he was sprawled on her floor like reaching vines. A pulse took the filthy chemicals out into his body, and sewed his mind together with disproportionate emotions.

"Worried." he said and closed his eyes. "Wicker is strong. Wicker is made of little things until it's solid." when he opened his lids again his head turned from side to side, savoring the haze, or asking it to thicken. "Lily is..." started. "made of easily dispersed dreams." He was a large knight outwardly, but Alios was sensitive. That was why they didn't use him as a gladiator and only a lower tier guard.

He crawled to where she sat and wrapped his hand around her ankle to see how his fingers touched once they'd encircled her join. "I don't know anything, King." he said with a sigh and then let go of her to hoist himself up on his knees, arms on her desk and chin on his arms to look at her. His eyes were sleepy, as his poison of choice had weighted them, and then they were brilliantly clear.

"I went into the crowd when they started fighting. I'm can tell earnest pretty well, and Ebelt looked like he was doing sports while he was trying to look like he was doing bad theater." Alios shrugged and pushed her papers to the middle of the wooden surface so he could sit on the edge. "Will the houses be alright?" he asked as his head started to lull downward again. "Will you, King?" he smiled and it was a little sweet. He reached her cheek and then flicked the hair she'd placed behind her ear so it would fall and blanked his hand that touched her.

A little offer. Because the night would be long.


"I should like to talk to you about something political." Hiev said when the light had gone from orange toward lemon. He was wearing a ridiculous long sleeping gown with frill, as though he needed to pat the image of an overgrown boy. Ebelt was sitting by the window, admittedly no less dramatic with his shirt gone and his cut naked like his torso. He'd not changed out of the trousers he'd worn when he'd fought Wicker merrily or seen her poisoned.

"And what would you like to chat about, King?" Ebelt asked at the glass, watching the groundsmen start their day on the frosted grass. He was tired even though he'd not moved about very much after the duel. His wound was red but dark, which suggested his health and thereby his guilt.

"I think we're not going to make friends with Hyacinth soon. Jewl made sure of that. And well, Jasmine has Scarlett so they're not entirely trustworthy..." The princeling started. Ebelt touched his forehead to the window surface. It was blessedly cold.

"That leaves Phellar at Chrysanthemum, you realize." he muttered.

"In these times..." Hiev started, but Ebelt whipped his head from the glass so fast he left a pattern of three far legged stars and some of his blood in those cracks.

"Shut up you feeble cunt!" he shouted and ran over to grab Hiev by the shoulders and lift him. They were roughly the same height so it was a testament to Ebelt's anger. The black had burnt away from his irises and the silver streaks were prominent. His hue was greener than Phellar's and Luna's, like his silver had been at the bottom of the sea. The madness went away like it had been an indulgence, and there was only blood on his temple to testify about his rage. He sighed and put Hiev down. Hiev sobbed. "I know you're trying to help, that's all you ever mean to do. But right now I want to fix this without your naive patter."

Hiev wiped his face with his soft sleeve and then shook his head, glaring at Ebelt. "No. I am king. You did this. Or at least you weren't helping. Let's do what I want." he bit out. Ebelt tilted his head, genuinely surprised by Hiev's gusto. He nodded for the king to continue. "I will go to Phellar, and I'll talk to him..." Hiev started, proud for the audience, but his words were punctuated early by Ebelt's palm to his well-moisturized face.

"It'll look like we're gearing up for war, you fucking infant." Ebelt hissed and looked around before he swooped up a dark denim jacket with a collar of billowing black borg and stuck his arms into it. "I'll let you talk to Chrysanthemum because Rose stays open. Let them send someone. But be subtle or you're going to start something. If Hyacinth retaliates Phellar will just throw linen on the fire, and we don't know where Luna stands. Be smart about this and don't show favor yet." he said and marched for the door. "And then there's the trouble of what prompted Jewl to this. He's more of an idiot than you to have started this." Ebelt was belligerent and swung the door wide. "Just be careful. Please. Let me fix this for us." he said before slamming the door shut, implying Hiev should not leave through it soon.


Ebelt breezed by Grayson and Apollo and didn't give them much attention. It was fitting that the Rose Hand was upset, and frankly, he didn't care about them because they had nothing to do with what was happening. He found Gloria's door soon and knocked until he rolled his eyes and leaned against the door. Of course she wasn't here. He strode toward the hallway that lead to her greenhouse. The guards wouldn't bother Ebelt on his way in. She was working on Jewl, probably.

Ebelt was formidable, perhaps like the king he should have been, with a black wolf's mane around gray denim and nothing else on his torso, and a drying line of crimson romancing the side of his face. "Gloria?" He asked as he looked into the thick of the greenery, protected by the winter outside. She wouldn't be doing things in the open, but she'd outfitted this place with her favorite tools. Her home. Nobody could step to Gloria in her garden. Tongue got loose among these leaves.

OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: February 05, 2018, 04:12:04 pm »
I don't mind whichever way it goes. If she does recognize him, it probably would play out that way, but she might be too out of it, too. I guess you get to decided whether the poison he'll plant directs suspicions at Rose and she lives, or if she dies and there'll be a whole new level of drama. If she does die, Phellar has a pension for kissing the breath out of people, I've learned.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Paper Trails
« on: February 02, 2018, 09:43:11 am »
Subj: Re: Rabbits
<<sent to: kankanna on: November 23 @ 11:55:30 am>>

I will always be here to suggest for you, Kan

If you wanted, while you slept, I could tie piano wire to your joints and dance you through your days. You would be completely fulfilled then, if that was possible. Or you would miss the little weight you carry around on your heart like a pendant. Either way, I’ll be right beside you.

Ah, imagine if your lover at N would know that he could never be your lover because you wash him away. Maybe he’d be a little upset then, and throw his expensive cognac glass to the floor? Aren’t you being a bit unfair? Just a thought I had. I think he could take comfort when he sees you on the dancefloor again, though. Everywhere you go, you settle the hearts of men, I think, Kanna. If that were true, isn’t that flattering?

Since we’re so honest with each other, I have to confess too, and perhaps thank you. You wanted to know more about me, right? I see your face on my sometimes lover when we’re toiling. How crass of me. I don’t see that as a betrayal. Is it strange that we’ve been intimate a few times, but you have no memory of it?


Like the petals melting off trees of a misplaced spring, his pink little Kanna was falling into place when he shook her. A terrified sound, when he saved her, like she was sugaring herself for his pleasure. It was hard not to be rewarding when she was being so unknowingly generous, but it wasn’t that much strain being harsh, either. His eyes did not give away the view it had below her skirt, arching wide and betraying her in the little fall to show off cotton pinched between her thighs.

“So smart.” He said, dry, when she surmised her avatar in his example after her little slip that they’d agreed was entirely her own fault once she was sitting agin. “First, before we start, if you’ll stay and I’ll contribute my time to hopefully see proof that you deserve a higher grade,” he started, grabbing her legs firmly, and pulling her, his little toy on his desk, until her knees were over the edge while she was still seated securely on the flat surface. He parted those knees slightly. “you have to work on your posture, Kanna.” He insisted and wrapped his arm around her to push at the low of her back so she would straighten, and then under her shoulder blades to have her chest out. If she wanted she could have her hands on the desk for support, leaning back. What an inviting doll she made.

“I would like to know what the pen-pal knows. Of course.” To her challenge. “We should start there. If this is all previously confessed then there should be no trouble saying it again. Unless you’d like to submit the letters to me.” He waited for a while, his legs almost touching her free knees, while he was academically posed himself, above her, forearms crossing his chest while his hands held his elbows. And then, if she’d try to say her first word about sandboy, Evram would step in, to part her slightly, and tilt his head in some consideration, scrutinizing gaze watching her details at a tight distance. “You’re tense, Kanna.” How could she not be, with all this handling. “This won’t do. I am going to get a few things. You have this classroom alone. Do whatever you have to in order to relax yourself by the time I come back. Get rid of that tension or I’ll notice.” He stepped back, having planted enough suggestions to assume where her mind might lead her.

Of course, once he left and closed the door to invite her misconception of privacy, he’d still be watching her from another wall. And if his little rabbit decided to do what she could to bring her own blush to an inferno so it might fade by the time he came back, he’d hurry to match her, and pass her, so he could return before she’d had her fill.

“Ah, sorry. Yes, where were we?” as he came back in through the door.

Subj: Re: Wolves
<<sent to: kankanna on: November 23 @ 11:40:32 pm>>


I like this confidence in your primal self that you’re talking about. She’s trying to contact you, your other self. She speaks through the alcohol but now she’s trying to connect in other ways. Do more of the things where you can see her. If Evram brings her out then stay closer to him.

I wonder what would happen if you asked Mr. Welter for help finding her. It sounds like he’s already on her trail. It would certainly raise your grade.

What if you let me talk to the you on the bottom of the rabbit hole? I wonder what she would say.


He would have left off with his usual nickname, but the hushing tag was just as good. Her display in her window was far more fetching, tonight, and had cause his fingers to falter. He’d learned to type with low light on his phone. There was a straight line between the leafs from the street to her window if you knew where to stand. Out of reflex, he caught her on video when she held her herself for the night. His mouth was parted, and his blood was angry when he watched her. What an excruciating connection they’d made for themselves.

Sandboy: Kanna, you’re beautiful.

A smile when she remembered him without knowing as her fingers graced his intimate mark. And then he was staring, as her cotton knotted and shaped after her circling and pushing knuckles. He wanted her to unveil herself from that cloth. He needed to nurse that kind of desire in her, too. She was coming undone, but so was he. He could not wait until he got home, of course, and finished in the car before starting, and then twice more on the side of the road to her film.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Paper Trails
« on: January 30, 2018, 10:28:06 am »
Subj: Re: Re: Re: Strangers
<<sent to: kankanna on: November 22 @ 8:40:23 am>>

The rabbit likes it sometimes, Kan

So I think you’re right. Isn’t it funny how it knows I’ll follow, but it goes running off from its friends anyway? I think my rabbit is very funny. In my heart, looking at her, I don’t think she’s like the other rabbits anymore. We’ve both changed her. And she likes being afraid, even if she doesn’t know. It’s part of the adventure for her, right? When I touch her I can feel her little heart, and it’s not the rhythm of normal fear, even if it’s fast. I think her friends might notice soon, that she smells like me. I like that she smells like me.

It’s so strange and wonderful with little things like that. They look at you like they want to be captured. Wouldn’t that be good for anyone, to be told what to do so they wouldn’t have anxiety?


Another conversation with his Wild Kanna, last night. She’d gotten better with her lips, because she was either drinking less, or getting used to it. Her limbs weren’t so sluggish and he’d not had to guide her as much. It was the loveliest anyone could be, looking with sometimes clear and oftentimes heavy lids at the truth they were waiting for. He’d taken her home to his place, and held her in front of a mirror when her clothes were on the floor. The lesson ended there, because he couldn’t watch her every day and stay so cold as to not indulge a little. He needed to be honest too.

In the shower, would the ink crescent moon, a bid for the time of their next meeting, high on her inner thigh, smudge and bleed blue? Would she even notice? How cruel, that on the other side there were faint purple circles, print of his teeth. What would she think of herself, with such proof in that hidden place? What would she feel if she touched them?

He stayed in his sheets a little longer, and imagined he found the outlines of her body in the mattress. But the foam didn’t remember as the name said. Little girl, making grown men nostalgic. He hid his face in her pillow, deeply, and then he woke up with a rigorous, meticulous morning routine.

Subj: Re: Re: Re: Strangers
<<sent to: kankanna on: November 22 @ 5:58:23 am>>


Do you think Mr. Welter knows when you’re focused or not? It’s the job of a teacher to know what is best for his students. He obviously noticed about you, sees through you in some regard. It’s not impossible that he sees the ghosts of your nights at N, even if it’s not in detail. And he’s still trying to help. Maybe that’s what you need? Take risks and take help. That’d be a very lovely way to drift. And how beautiful. Are you a flower on the sea, Kan?

I’m older than you, I think, because I’ve lived some of your trials, haven’t I? Your loneliness is tempering you, by the sound of it. I’ve known you a little while, and things has been allowed to  grow in you the way they wouldn’t have if you were not alone. Your blushing is part of that, and I think it’s adorable. When you fret over forgotten nights it rather cute. How unsympathetic of me. But I feel for you too, of course. Your changes are very picturesque.

Would you be jealous if I had a lover? I joke. Where would you find the time to be jealous, in your brimming life. My lover is a little of a riddle. She’s a bit audacious but when we’re done she’s like she’s never touched. And then she looks for me when her pulse reminds her of our togetherness. I love her completely. She loves me sometimes, but I think she’s warming up. And she likes hands around her neck. Such grown-up things I’m telling you. Is it too much for my blushing Kanna?

In all of this, would you like a lover? Have you given it a thought? What should your lover be like? Or do you consider your mystery someone at N to be your lover? It’d be a little cruel if he isn’t at least lent a thought like that. Maybe a lover with a mask is your type? You say you’re not experienced, but I think many of your friends would be the ones blushing if they knew how you dance in your patterned dress to N’s music, waiting for another blind meeting.

Am I teasing you? I’m sorry. I can imagine you blushing.


He considered her quietly. Unsure Kanna on his desk, apologizing. She wouldn’t be so responsive as she was on the Network’s dancefloor. Not so readily unfold. How dangerous the world was for something as addictive as her. At least libations from plants are usually excruciatingly hard to extract. She wore her nectar beaded on her lips, and overflowing in her eyes. Kanna wouldn’t tell anyone if he indulged here. He’d see to it. But that wasn’t the kind of friendship they’d have.

He breathed deeply when she conceded to his preferences. She didn’t know what she was doing, saying thigs like that. He sat by her side. A good distance, first, and then closer. “Will you? If you do, I would definitely feel inclined to raise your grade.” He thought about it for a while. “I want this.” He said and pointed a finger to the side of her neck. Her heartbeat, her heart. “What’s inside. That’s what you were missing in you latest assignment, and that’s what you’ll have to give now.” He explained, stern.

“Ah, honesty is so tricky.” Pretending at sympathy. “How about you write a girl who’s changing, then? Just an example. Tell me about her. What’s her inner journey? Maybe you know what will make her happy. Where will she end up? What does she do with all these new things?” His hand was on the side of her neck as he studied her eyes. “What is the difference between the person she presents herself as, and the one she’s becoming on the inside?”

And suddenly his demeanor warped, a hair fell out of place from his perfect, dark wave, a single fang curving to cradle the corner of one brown, reddening eye. “I’m on your side Kanna.” He promised, head at the angle in front of her as it had been when he’d taken her after N. A confession she wouldn’t let herself hear. And then he sat up straight and put the stray hairs back. She wouldn’t have noticed that he’d nudged her close to the short edge of his desk. “But you can’t just wish for it. You have to work. How about you stay after some time, and tell me about this girl?” Another small scoot, and she was sure to fall over.

And if she did his arm would extend like a rope for a soul swimming with others in the river Styx. Catch her wrist and look at her from this compromised position before he pulled her up sitting again, him standing, to correct his collar. “Really, Kanna. Get a hold of yourself.”

OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: January 26, 2018, 07:06:41 am »
jumped to the middle of the night, but figure we can still play things out a little before that if you guys want. Also left it open on the time skip. Thinking if Fern lives, he'll still visit her in a more interactive capacity in another time.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: January 26, 2018, 07:05:07 am »
Alios shrugged. It was considerate of Scarlett to be like this, but for once he wasn't too swayed by jokes like that. "Alright." he said without much flare as he looked down at fingertips that were lending comfort to one another. "Thank you. I'll go see our king when she's returned."

And he would. He'd come out of his jacket and the ornament for the collar of his shirt, the shirt itself completely undone and his feet bare. One of his sleeves were rolled up, which either meant he'd forgotten the other one in a fit of practicality, or that his pretty veins had been subjected to an ugly escape. The needle prick would be long gone by the time Luna found him sulking, sitting against the wall by the door to her chambers. The Jasmine Lily, grown out of the floor, wilting quietly.


Ebelt excused Gloria with a gesture of his hand and then nodded to the wall of cleaners waiting to do their job earlier than they'd expected. He suppose they were the only winners, today, since - while rambunctious - the party had not gone on for very long. "And let whoever wants the food have it, but make sure to prepare a portion of it for the shelters." There could be more winners.

"A-and the liquor too!" Hiev said, out of breath before the sentence had died. Ebelt pinched a brow at their king, and thought it was a stupid thing, ludicrous in fact, but questioning Hiev now would do more damage.

Later, in their bedroom, there would be a tired argument.


Phellar would not be a proper demon if he did not know his secret ways around the pretty infirmary. It wasn't far from the house of the smaller orphans. He'd ran a few favorites in here in his own arms, a few times. The old building had been outfitted with secret doors and its thick walls were pregnant with hidden corridors with access to almost any room. The infirmary had withstood all fires because it was always understandable that it should be prioritized, and so its old designs had never been compromised.

In the fray, he'd caught a glimpse of the crooked paths shining off from Wicker's wound. He knew the concoction. He had some. Potent.

The tall king stuck his head into her room, white robe on, most unflattering, and with a net over his hair and a mask on his face. The glasses helped, too. He'd even worn comfortable shoes for this outing. Breezing by any bent, sitting protector, he'd leave a mist from a small bottle in his wake, ensuring their continued slumber as he came to see Fern.

It could mean the death of her if she recognized him, he'd have no choice then, to make her a martyr for his own game between the houses, sprung from the middle of someone else's. He silently hoped her medication would be enough for her to simply lend him half her consciousness, so he could prattle on, and douse her new bandage with a flavor Wicker already knew. Then again, he didn't mind killing Fern. She had the kind of face that looked the best when stilled forever.

OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: January 25, 2018, 09:13:30 pm »
I feel like after a few finishing things for this evening we should maybe skip to morning? or do you guys wanna keep the night going? I guess that could be fun too.

Kinda wanna have Phellar visit Fern in her sickbed, if she'll be in one, but I'm not sure the story needs that right now.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: January 25, 2018, 09:05:07 pm »
Hadron had not looked Almi's direction, but he grinned to one side as he watched Fern and her bravado. On any other day he might have been disappointed that her composure cost him a good fight, but she held herself up so well he couldn't be anything but impressed. As the knights took their places around her and the king, Hadron shoved a passing former comrade. None of them could afford to think of their individual pride anymore, and there came nothing from the little taunt. Hadron nodded to Idella when they left.

Ebelt had not heeded Wicker's annoyed hands, waving at him when he tried to locate her possible marks. It was entirely out of place that she was this addled, but Fern of course took center stage when Vinnia pulled Wicker out of his grasp, but he forgot about Fern for a moment when Vinnia unveiled the unclean cut. His eyes narrowed at the accusation. "Of course not." he said and tried to find some agreement in Wicker. There wasn't time for any in the exit of Hyacinth.

Hiev rushed through the crowd that dissolved in his way. His hand sought out Ebelt's shoulder as he shook his head to slap away Ideall's spoke suspicions. "Rose wouldn't..." he started as Ebelt darted from his side to roll Jewl onto his stomach with a swift kick. Ebelt then crossed the boy's wrists at the low of his back and kept them there with his knee.

"Rose will get to the bottom of this." Ebelt promised, voice steadier than the ruler of this house. It couldn't save the ball, but it could hopefully save Jewl. He made the boy watch as Hyacinth went for the door. He thought Fern laid across Idella's arms was a pretty thing, a reminder that things could have been a lot worse, today.


Iora was furiously writing things down, and did not answer Jen at first. Eventually she put the pen in the spine and closed her book. "Don't be silly, Jen." she said sternly as she stood as well, hooking an arm in Ms. Tanaka's and starting her for the outside too. She knew when there was no more to be done, and she'd probably do the most for the houses by occupying Jen. "Everything will be alright. Let's leave them to it." she could be rather strong when she wanted to, and would strongly insist they follow the crowd, draining toward the big doors.


Hermes was happy for this discussion. It smarted a little that he should petition for it, but he hoped they'd find something beautiful with their training. His good mood staled somewhat when her fingerprints graced her mouth, and somehow he knew what she was thinking of. Acting like a gentlemen became more important shortly after, and he'd rather forget anyway. He took her waist again, even though he could well carry her. It seemed inappropriate to hold her like Idella did Fern.

Chrysanthemum became coordinated lines toward the exists, and it was easy to follow the ebb of bodies while supporting her. He held a bit closer due to the density of the crowd, but that also brought her collar in better view. He decidedly kept his eyes forward, then.


Alios was easy to find if you looked. He was following the Hyacinth train, where Vinnia was close to Wicker. When he tried his hand to get his almost lover's attention, it was instead grabbed by Scarlett before it could be held so high she'd not reach it. She pulled, and he guessed it was toward the Jasmin masses. Their gentle king would have them leave, too. He sighed and let his eyes linger on Wicker. She didn't seem like herself.

"Yes, yes." he said before finally turning to the mistress of whispers. "I will go with you." he wore an apology on his crooked frown. "It's just that... I feel a bit responsible." And his fogged eyes were clear for that.


Ebelt could only watch them all leave. He sighed when he looked down a Jewl, and pulled him up to his feet, arms still behind. "You're not smart enough to have done this on your own. What's going on?" but he wasn't so interested in an answer. He found Gloria by his side and tossed the prisoner into her, falling in to old dependence. He trusted her with this. "Get him to talk." he muttered and then ducked away from Hiev's touch.

OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: January 25, 2018, 02:35:54 pm »
I kind of did yes, unless Ven strongly objects. it could just be that Fern is holding the blade.

OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: January 25, 2018, 09:36:53 am »
y'all ladies only in it for the looks of the guys!

me too.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: January 25, 2018, 09:35:37 am »
Hadron could tell the difference between Wicker’s tackle and the others’s attempts at subduing him. Her take-downs were always sharper. Since she didn’t weight much she had to put more of herself into it, but it couldn’t alter her stopping power, which became concentrated on a smaller area than what would have been the result of a bigger person colliding with him. She was more prone to bruise him, that way. He’d commented on it once or twice during their sparring days.

His own blood on his teeth when he smiled up at her, and didn’t try to throw her off right away, acting the wild seat she wanted while the pile grew around him again. When she helped him with Treya, he took it as a cue to get serious about becoming free, and rewarded her a hard greeting in her side. She seemed drunk to him, but it was strange, since she had the lack of control in her limbs, but her head seemed clear. He didn’t linger on that when Hyacinth’s guard circled him once more.

“Got bored of drinking.” He explained as he swiped a leg and caught the falling her with an elbow. A sickening sound. “You got to fight, didn’t you?”


Iora had to hum in agreement, even though her own isolation within all things school-ground was self-inflicted. She had been a willing prisoner by the ideas of Versailles long before she’d walked through the walls. There was a light smile on her face for it, to let Jen know her feelings on the subject. “It’s glorious, isn’t it?” she even grinned a little and put her pen to her lower lip as she’d seen on one of Almi’s spreads. An ad for watches, but the cadence worked to sell her own pensiveness, also. “I hope one day I can be part of its legacy in a more intimate capacity.” By blood she meant, but she didn’t mind the more torrid interpretation of her words either.

The brawl had been boiling for a while, but Iora hadn’t thought much of it. Now though, she thought she should, and pretended to be surprised. A delicate squeal, too well pronounced and from ribs too far extended for acoustics for any hope at being viable as genuine, but what did she care? Theatrics was a currency, here. She then laughed, conjuring a blush expertly on her cheeks. Maybe she’d be the kind of beautiful she hoped for, if there had been innocence in her, somewhere. “The boys!” she called and dropped her pen on the ground with the same kind of authentic she’d squealed. There were of course all manner of genders in the pile, but she liked her simple division. “So rambunctious.” She looked at Jen and then shrugged, as though the other teacher had said something to object. “It’s perfectly normal to practice some sport. They’re full of vigor, this time of their lives.” And something oppressive and dark in her eyes warning Jen from interfering.


Hermes would like to agree with her. Their beloved lines, their clean execution of a tradition that had safeguarded itself for centuries. But that wasn’t where her heart was, not entirely. How could it be, the way she’d moved with Phellar. Hermes hadn’t recognized it in himself yet, but he needed to measure up to that – be a force that left her breathless, too. Maybe his concentration on technique had been supported by her acceptance of it, since the start.

“Eh, maybe it’s not a bad idea to try.” He said, not joking this time. Perhaps he was bitter from her lack of faith in his ability to rouse her, too. He did not say it. He might not even know that was what he’d felt. “I hear some level of unpredictability is good for artistic flexibility and therein…” Dancing was not a science. “Ah, we could maybe try new music, and—make things up as we go.” He was speaking a language he’d not tasted before, and felt uncertain about it. “Start small maybe, as a concept, while your ankle heals.” He pulled something strong from a server and drank it with one toss. That sting was at least called for.


Ebelt had liked to bruise Gloria. She’d always be a good sport about it. There had never been prestige between them, simply because it around them, instead. They’d been running a path together, and shared frustrations to dispel them along the way. Sometimes, he wished he was to Hiev what Gloria had been to him. But Hiev only saw the reward of ambition, he’d not walked the road to it. “Alios, if he’s the princess-prize in all this, is a slut. I think whether he bruise you would be entirely up to you, madame.” Nobody begrudged the Jasmin Knight his prowess.

The King Hand looked toward the brawl but lowered his level of attention when he saw none from his own court directly involved. He finally swallowed what he’d been eating. “I think it’s quaint.” He said and turned to her, half way from the ordeal. “Would  you consider being a queen?” It wasn’t impossible. He’d not thought to promote her, and Hiev would be a bit distraught, but today was a day of announcements. Perhaps she’d appreciate it. Surely Countess was too low for her, now that he thought about it. “You could help me…” he saw the kind of light he’d feared in the corner of his eye. A gleam from dangerous metal.

Ebelt twisted around and ran for the fight.

He was too late when he started. Jewl. Why was he holding that assassin’s weapon? The faces passed quickly as he made his way and then skidded to a stop fast enough to grip and embrace Wicker, rolling with her into the bundle of bodies, which effectively stopped even Hadron.

Ebelt would be staring at her, sitting her up and noticing how sluggish she was, molesting her for wounds. It seemed the crowd was grumbling nervously over something else. When Ebelt turned his head away from Wicker, his dark eyes pules gaping for a second before he found composure.

“Jewl you fool…” he breathed when he saw the blade protruding from Fern.


“Wild.” Phellar muttered to a baron. They were standing exactly between the sitting area where the two teachers were, and the ruckus in question. He was perhaps even better held together than before, as though he’d not violently had the host King. He thought fleetingly to grab any actual adult who decided to see the ordeal. Hopefully they’d know better, and enjoy it for what it was, and then feign ignorance in the morning. “I hear there’s some circus acts later, too.” He whispered as though that might be the dramatic peak of the Winter Ball.

He winked at Hiev who was a little less elegant, coming back to his own ball. The Rose King looked around, and then also stared at the scene.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Paper Trails
« on: January 24, 2018, 11:57:02 am »
Subj: RE: Strangers
<<sent to: kankanna on: November 21 @ 8:45:04 pm>>

I get mad when I’m not sure what you’re doing. You are a means of my own self-discovery too, Kan. I am watching you become a firefly and then I can’t see you when your light goes out. Is it terribly distasteful of me to want that light? Maybe Shinigami doesn’t have worldly needs, but they need something else, right? I don’t feel lonely when I speak to you, but I suppose I don’t keep many friends. Other people aren’t as interesting to me. They’re set, like a I’m in an amusement park with statues moving on iron rails. You’re still changing. You’re engaging. You’re in color.

Maybe the man on the train can feel the night seeping off you. You probably smell familiar to him too. He seems like a night thing, also. What if he’s another thing you need to discover? The train is a crowded place. I think you’re safer there than most places. Maybe you need your heart to beat faster. You said you wanted to feel things.

You say I’m frightening and I think that’s because I’m new. I promise I’m good for you. All the comfortable things in your life led you to N. And then the nighttime things sought you out. Your two lives are meeting, finally. On the inside, part of you can recognize that, and other parts are afraid. Have you ever jumped from a height into water? Someone had to trust that it’d be delightful, and then they knew the fear was excitement. Isn’t that why you and the night have become better friends, lately?

I sat close to the rabbit today. I thought I could pet her, but she ran away. It makes me wonder if I should throw a net over her. She seems like she might like to be petted. What do you think?


Inside the thrum, Evram moved closer to her. He pretended well, reacting to the insistence of the palpable music through his body, but really, he was taking cues from her. A popular anchor in this sea, as any pretty face and young body, she had to withstand a lot of attention. It was better she loose herself in it, that it tempered her, and put callouses on her hesitations. Libations came to her easily, but Evram had to swipe a few feet to keep her free. His arm was around her waist a few times, but he had to be a leash, a scent, rather than her companion. It was more important she become further shackled to this world. Get her closer to that night without giving her the confirmations she craved.

He watched her as she wrote him.

Sandboy: I think you want something, if not answers. And it’s coming for you, Kan. But are you ready?

Confident in his disguise, Evram moved through the corridor, black fangs in his eyes. She was a sought after commodity, sitting alone like that, and he had to be first.

“You can’t sit there.” He said, moving within a cut of her lashes, to secure his game of masquerade, and pulled her arms until she stood and he could turn her around, and press her breasts to the wall, and keep her there with his body. “Why are you here alone?” he demanded as his hands went over her skin to her knuckles and then inward to her hips, his face obscured in an angle her neck couldn’t turn. “You should run away. Unholy things happens at N to rabbits like you.” Bold, but he’d been soaking his tongue in strong water, too. “I could have you banned.” He threatened as his hand found her belly and slid down steeply from there.

He could taste her array of aromas and remembered them from their pivotal night. He wanted it now, to throw her into a stupor and see that primordial honesty in her eyes, and collect her sounds. But she was meant for other games too, his Kanna. Her ear was so close, and his tongue was so deeply in love. His other hand circled her throat tightly to gather her perfume and sweat. He dragged those fingers over his lips and pulled deeply at the scent while his lower hand cupper with familiar pressure. Memories made drown his palled in nostalgia. “Let me show you the way out.” Intent in his voice that perhaps even hazed synapses could decipher. But are you ready?

Subj: RE: School
<<sent to: kankanna on: November 22 @ 8:15:04 pm>>


I think it’s good that you speak with him, then. For your schoolwork and for yourself. He makes you feel uneasy because you think he sees something in you that you don’t even understand fully. Wouldn’t that be great for you? I wonder what he can see…

Isn’t it a good thing if he treats you differently than before when something really did happen to you? The others who were there didn’t notice anything new, even though your world has changed. Apart from you Shinigami, whom you’ve told outright, perhaps Mr. Welter cares the most for his harsh grading? You should rely on him, if you can. My father told me harshness can be a sign of affection. And if you feel like you deserve it, all the better. Punishment can be a doorway to healing.

Listen to him. Trust him.


He was finishing the fair assessment of another essay when she put her voice into the room which still had the last echo of the last student leaving. He looked up, hair shining in its tamed back state to underline the details of his face. Handsome, pretty, as he’d been called by the faculty, a real problem for the young girls. They joked, but they were right. He plucked silver frames off his nose and nodded.

“We can talk.” As though he could do nothing to stop that. It wasn’t really inviting. Maybe there was a cruel challenge in there, too. He’d been watching her, of course, but he’d be a poor follower if she’d noticed too much. Still, the spirit of a person can sense the attention of something else.

Once she’d stilled in front of his desk he stood, sound dull since his chair was heavier than hers. Good school, Gladiola High. “It could have been higher.” Your grade. “You’re not a bad student when it’s simple things. But your focus is lacking lately.” He shrugged as he went around the desk, tailored silhouette drawn out. He towered over her, close, with all the truth licking at her from his deeply dedicated, dark aura. He thought of the texture of the inside of her cheek when he pointed to the edge of the desk, for her to sit, as though his advantage in height wasn’t enough already. What would she do with her skirt then?

“What do you offer? I haven’t got so much time.” Because I have to pretend to be a functional working man, your teacher, and your sandboy. Tentacles from his loving guts curled through the air to try and remind her of their night, and hold up the faces she’d made for her. She smelled clean, today. “The essay  you gave me on The Poem of Cretse was especially uninspired, and it underlines what your problem is, I think.” He let her wait, as though hoping she’d figure it out herself. “Honesty. You read the story but you don’t understand the value of it. Honesty.” He’d lean in closer, scrutinizing her, as though he might fail her if he saw something he didn’t like on her uniform. “What can you write that’ll convince me you’re honest? What is it in your life that occupies your mind that you haven’t been?”

His seemingly pristine skin roared to touch her, but he kept all the furious desire inside, even though the color of his dark eyes brimmed with it, and made browns deathly red. Her Shinigami.

OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: January 23, 2018, 07:41:51 pm »
Figuring Idella's ol' army buddy. Maybe he hates Phellar a little for nurturing this side in Hadron? I also wanted a "freer" player to play with. He's open for anything. He is easily directed, like a bazooka, but I don't think super easy to control? I dunno. He's looking for a cause.

OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: January 23, 2018, 07:35:59 pm »
ladies and gentlemen I give you

Hadron, taken name, real name Marlon

Hadron was a good knight with tendencies toward violence, but had become proficient in reeling it in by the time the Hyacinth madness started. He went above and beyond fighting for Wicker’s and Idella’s cause, but never really came back to them after that. He stayed for a couple of months after Hyacinth opened up again, but was ultimately discontent about the new court and its stability, so he was propositioned by Phellar and accepted.

Before his abrupt change of values, he was hoping to be a tattoo artist and was a good friend of Alios because of it. They don’t see each other anymore. Even though Hadron keeps a rather bright exterior, it’s not lost on anyone that there is a deeply rooted wrath inside. It comes out in his explosive, extended punches and his needlessly volatile cqc tactics. Back when he and Idella used to spar, going through the ranks together, he was calmer, and concerned about his opponents. It seems now as though he’s angry at his former self for having denied this new side for so long. Phellar lets him run wild when there’s no immediate task for him.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: January 23, 2018, 07:25:09 pm »
Iora extended her chest further when she elicited the compliment from Jen. In her mind, Jen was well within her right to be jealous, and so Iora had to assume that she was. A strange conflict inside the history teacher then, to feel that Jen was pitiable for her conservative dress, and enviable for the boys’s attention at the same time. There was no lack of conflict in the woman. Iora was not impressed at Jen’s show of adherence to duty. “Twelve is when things get interesting, so I think that’s a good time for you to leave, yes.” The words could be taken as anything between praise at her forethought and propriety, and a pique at her lack of knowledge of these events.

Iora wore wrinkles on her forehead and looked at Jen from the journal. “They ARE beautiful already, slung with nobility and glowing with youth. Many of the ages here were eligible for marriage in the prime eras of the kingdoms they no doubt hail from.” She taught a class on that kind of thing. It was popular. Implied judgement or not, Iora would not have anyone doubt her own position on the children. She warmed somewhat at the next question.

“Yes,” I do attend all of them. It wasn’t entirely true. The Vespertines wouldn’t let her into their rituals, and some happenings were simply private. But Iora kept herself informed, at least. “they tend to like me there.” Equally true. Iora sighed as though Jen was a student that had completely misunderstood her lesson. Odd, because Iora was not prone to be this way with her actual students. “We have been given a great opportunity here, Jen, to involve ourselves in the lives of the future leaders of this world. I think it’s not out of place to show a little enthusiasm.” She returned to scribbling.

“What about you? What are you up to when you’re not grading sternly.” She asked though her attention was on her pages. She objected to Jen’s “fair” schooling, since Iora felt the higher positioned students should always have higher grades. Anything else would be unseemly and disruptive. “I rarely hear about your private life. Are you occupied with anyone outside of Versailles?” she did look up then, to try and understand Jen’s disinterest in the boys who looked at her.


Hermes didn’t fully receive what Lyanna’s new stiffness meant. It was because he was either too caught up with the mood he thought he felt, or because he wanted to be mistaken. Weren’t their forte that they were intelligent with their bodies? He listened to her, about the teacher. It seemed Jen was something of a role model to Lya, as well. He could see that, from the outside. “So do you.” He reminded. Balancing. Lyanna was something of a saint to him. It wasn’t a hard thing to attach to the ballerina, since her base problem was that she’d never put herself in any situation to compromise herself. It was the whole issue with Phellar, for both of the dancers.

“About our recital.” He said, and wasn’t sure what and spurred him to open his mouth about it. He was still slightly naïve to his own feelings on how unavailable her warmth was. “I was thinking of perhaps taking some critique. Should we throw something in that’s a bit out of our wheelhouse?” He felt appalled at what he was saying, but whatever thing inside that was spewing this went on. “Maybe, if they’ve not seen passion before, they could see it then?” But he wouldn’t exactly know where to start, on that. Historically, Lya would be a poor conversationalist on this matter, too. “Maybe if we break our lines a bit but make awed and struggling faces?” it was a joke, since people described as passionate on the scene seemed to check these two things – he and Lyanna had noted it often – but tonight it seemed strange to say, since she’d made a few face like that, thrown by Phellar.


Hiev had his own tears and Phellar’s residue on his cheeks while the Rose King breathed where he laid on the rug, sore and bullied, exhausted, with wrists still belted. “Ah… how dare you do this to me?” he said, as though he had any right to speak like a king now. He didn’t sound like one, sniffling and panting on the floor in the aftermath. “I didn’t want that.” He pressed.

Phellar, who’d bounced him on his lap and folded his legs out of the way for a great deal of deep fun, was already dressed. It made Hiev feel even smaller. “Then why did you say my name like that? You see, I’ve read that souls like yours can easily be bound if the right kind of abuse is applied.” He corrected his collar and leaned down to tug at the belt. Hiev was mortified to see the leather slip off with little resistance. “This particular knot only works if you want it to, princeling.” He grinned and used the belt as he should have been used, around his own waist. “Now, that you’re thoroughly fucked all the way through, I expect Rose to see to Chrysanthemum’s interests.” He said, leaned down into Hiev’s ear. Hiev sobbed and turned away, free, cold hands cupping his abused length as he curled up.

“That’s a pretty way to say yes, hiev. Maybe you’ll get another visit from me if you keep that up.” Phellar said as he started leaving, his back was to his skin-clad toy. “Get dressed soon and try not to still be moaning like a whore when you come back outside.”

Hiev cried quietly but nodded, groaning as he crawled toward his closest item of clothing.


Ebelt was also looking around when Gloria came around. It seem that was the game they were playing. He liked her. She’d always been on his wavelength, even if that didn’t matter much these days, with Hiev on the throne instead of himself. It hadn’t been fair to Golria, with all her efforts and his implied promises to her. “There are more swords in the house if you’d like to try yourself.” He said and finally turned to look at her. “Were you entertained at all, countess?” he asked and pulled some folded meat from a passing tray, he tossed it into his mouth and clapped his hands of the crumbs that had made the base of that treat. He moved the morsel to his cheek to continue speaking. “You might have to go barefoot, but I think your feigns are good enough to land a blow now that she’s all riled.” Real advice. Maybe to let her know he’d not been chanceless, out there.

He looked her over, and thought about their way up together. They had been formidable then, with their goals. He could not give her all the things she wanted, now that the crown wasn’t his, but he supposed he still owed it. Perhaps he felt guilty everytime he spoke to her now, and maybe that was why they didn’t meet much, anymore. She was a dependable person, as far as he knew, though. “I think if you challenged Alios, she’d come running.”


Hadron rolled his shoulders, casual snarl on one cheek spreading to ripple that side of his nose. Now that the duel had properly faded and merry was in the air again, he supposed he could get to work. Taniph was a good night, and she was always up for a fight, he knew. Under the Hyacinth umbrella, she wasn’t much, but she could take a punch, cute as she was. Hadron turned her around and her blue eyes grew large when she recognized him. “Duel.” He said and swung his arm so that his expertly dense fist would ram her cheekbone. She was unmoving when she hit the ground. Her fellow guards turned and immediately remembered the prolific fighter from the Hyacinth Madness that had left them soon after. He’d been on their side then, but served Phellar’s court now.

“Duels?” he asked as they jumped him, and he met them by throwing his head out of orbit for their retaliatory legs and arms so that he could send his own to their guts and faces. He was a violent, quiet, maelstrom, the thuds of impacts from his limbs loud in their subtlety, like trauma under skin is. Eventually the knights of the knight court crowded him and held on to his dangerous extremities. The only part of him that wasn’t wrapped in another person’s embrace was his head. He looked to Idella then, and grinned.

“They’ve grown soft, haven’t they?” he said, and Idella would know their mistake. It was in-fact the ruling Hyacinth King that had given Hadron his name, based on the then-Marlon’s tendency for a fierce headbutt. It had been of great help when they staved off the Hayden-faithful. Hadron had relished in the poor odds then, a sweet boy with daunting tattoos, but found himself in the blood of battle, and then gone to Chrysanthemum in hopes of quelling that inferno which the madness had brought. He was perhaps the foremost enforcer of Phellar, when matters were ballistic.

Before the redheaded king could warn his knights, the first nose fell victim for Hadron’s viper-like neck and the hard cranium attached at the end of that whip. His arm was free, but he continued to swipe his forehead with macabre skill until he could stand on his own, continuing the brawl. The crowd weren’t as interested as they had been of the higher profile duelists, and soon went on to do something else while the combatants had at each other.

Rules, Guidelines & Site Updates / Re: Obviously Something is Wrong
« on: January 23, 2018, 07:23:50 pm »
it's fixed! I'm so glad. I kinda wanted my money back there for a while. Especially when you guys charge such a steep monthly fee.

OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« on: January 22, 2018, 07:59:10 pm »
Glorioa is gorgeous! And yes, their history makes perfect sense. Maybe they were well synced, getting him to the throne, and that relationship suffers now, quietly, and they both feel it. He feels bad for it, when he thinks about it, and she can have turned to scheming instead.

He could have promised her a higher post, but now sees it like strange favoritism since he's not the king. I feel like he's inclined to give her anything she asks for, though, so she could use that with her scheming. I can even imagine her offering her a position of queen, and her not taking it because it feels like pity, I dunno, does that work for her, you think?

He might even defend her if she's accused if she ever slips with her scheming. I  imagine he might also get defensive with her, since she's a blaring reminder of what he could/should have been, when they're on their own.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Paper Trails
« on: January 21, 2018, 01:12:09 pm »
Evram turned his head away from the girl next to him. In his hood it didn't matter much. He was familiar with her skin, and started with a hand she might not remember between them. It wasn't so unthinkable that someone would like to rest his fingers on the side of his own leg. If the letter still held her attention, a few retreats of his palm would fish up the hem of her skirt. Eventually he could rest a gentle grip on the high of her thigh, well hidden under the fabric supposed to conceal her. If she'd inhale to scream his other hand would be swifter over her mouth, twisting her face away from his own, some threats in her ear before he left her. But if she was good, he'd not treat her harshly, and simply tug gently at the side of her undergarment, to wordlessly ask for her compliance and slight shifts in helping him liberate her from them.

Kanna didn't know herself yet. He was her teacher, and had seen how lost she was at the beginning of a fateful semester, when he heard her laugh carelessly, finally as a woman, and realized she had so much potential. What kind of teacher would he have been if he didn't guide her? It was important she came into her own, both in her body and in her heart. And that she wouldn't be corrupted by the wrong kind of distractions.

Subj: RE: Downtown
<<sent to: kankanna on: November 16 @ 6:25:21 pm>>


Don't ignore me for days like that. It makes me mad.

Don't be afraid of N. It'd be a bit cruel to yourself. I think it is the place that started your new life. It means something, doesn't it? When you think about it, can you see yourself never going back? I think your ghost is still there, waiting.

It's not silly. I know the night is watching you. And I think it likes you. You have lived in the sunlight all your life, and then, one time, you lived at night and it showed you something new, but you had too much light inside to remember. The more you live at night the more you'll remember of that time. And I'll be with you every step. You can always confide in me. I'm your sandboy. If you tell me your troubles I'll bury them.

I remember all my dreams. I treasure them. They balance me because every time I am polite in the day, I hurt someone in my dreams. Then I feel vindicated and whole. Perhaps you'll have balance too, when you remember. To me, I feel like I'm there with you in your dreams when I see your art.

/your shinigami

The night had waited for her. He'd prayed to her nerves that they wouldn't settle so that she'd show herself. How beautiful she was in that frame, in the wall of her house, on display for him where he sat. The brown in his eyes didn't catch a reflection from the night lights, and he stared freely at her pert, young orbs, and wanted to applaud when she grasped them with her pained expression. Evram felt such triumph, whispering things to her, and then see her bloom like a garden for his suggestions. She was his seedbed. A slow nod, that she may leave, and like they were connected by desire, she closed her window and her curtains. The branch wasn't such a good place to satisfy himself, so he left her there, for tonight.

Subj: RE: School
<<sent to: kankanna on: November 21 @ 01:02:44 am>>


Mel is part of you daylight life. You don't always have to be with her. Until now, haven't you neglected the night in you? It's fair to spend some time with the night too. I think I'm a night friend of yours.

Go speak with Mr. Welter. Your parents would be upset if you didn't do anything when you have the chance. Education is important. You've gotten so far. Mr. Welter is and adult. You need to listen. He wants your best.

You are not a nice girl, Kan. I think that's why you don't like to be seen as one. I don't mean that you're a bad one, but you're different than nice. When you woke up from that time, you were confused weren't you? You weren't disgusted or fearful in that strange bed. You went home and didn't tell anyone. The only time a person is confused is when they're presented with several things in conflict, which means they're seeing more than one thing that might be right for them. Go see what was right with that time, Kan.

/your shinigami

He wore a cap tonight. Black clothes as always, but with a navy shirt under the jacket. It was the same shirt her addled fingers had crushed in their desperate grip when he'd started pulling at her clothes. Not that it was entirely defensive, from what he'd felt. Her eyes were foggy, but the motions of her mouth had been clear, even if her words were muddled. She could be honest with foreign chemicals in her veins, and she knew that. That had been a moment of truth between them, but too much truth, so she'd had to erase it in the morning.

Along the way he decided to go as he'd gone that night, and threw the cap into the bushes, and simply messed his hair up violently, to turn it from the voluminous backward form to something more alluring, dancing over his dark eyes. Still hidden, but at least it was less likely to call for attention. He also didn't wear her teacher's stern expression and straight mouth, but slightly parted lips to hint at predatory fangs in a subtle grin. Canine confidence.

N was blinking before them, and he stayed behind her in line, turned away. Beautiful girls like Kanna didn't need to be of the right age.

sandboy: you're in N aren't you? Welcome home. Now look for your memories in the strength of vodka, rum and wine.

He stayed close, protecting her while his shoulders were convening with the music.

Takeda Urumi had always had a good eye for Kanna, and he'd discovered her already. On his way over to ask her how she'd gotten in, someone folded him over a quick punch to the gut. Takeda was shoved into a corner before he could recover, and wretched on the wall as his vision blurred. The strike had been charged with so much hatred he could feel blood on his tongue before he fell to his knees. He tried to regain his breath but it only settled into an uneven rhythm, which registered as alarming to the Gladiola High baseball star.

Sandboy with his shadowing hair went back guard Kanna.

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