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Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Paper Trails
« Last post by Verse 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?”
Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Paper Trails
« Last post by VenomousEve on February 22, 2018, 06:44:12 pm »
She did pick up. It was ridiculous, and she shouldn’t have done it. But she did. Her fingers shook as she held the phone to her ear, her other hand still frustrated between her thighs. “What?” Kanna took a moment too long to recognize Mr. Welter’s voice on the phone. When she did, her unruly touch found a deeper warmth and her breath shuddered across the phone line. “Inside of me?” her voice hitched and there was muffled rustling as she pulled the receiver away from her face. She was gasping, confused, and wretched because she hadn’t stopped herself. Was she addicted? She thought about her pack of cigarettes.

“What do you mean, Mr. Welter?” she brought her lips back to the phone, and it sounded lewd when she asked. It should have. She knew that, and was horrified by herself anyway. She tipped her head back so the crown of her head was pressed to the wall, back arched, and digits imploring. She imagined the man at the Network and Mr. Welter’s lips in those kisses, wondered if he would show as much eagerness to possess her. “Fuck. Oh. Shit, I’m sorry, I—” Kanna stumbled over her own words, dropped the phone. He might hear her panicked whimpers as she arched perilously close to gratification.

The line went quiet, and when she picked back up the device she was breathless. “I’m so sorry, I dropped my phone.” Kanna said, and sounded so guilty it was hard not to forgive her for all her imagined transgressions.

Subj: RE: RE: Stockholm
<<sent to: sandboy on: November 28 @ 09:00:14 am>>

His face is all I think about when he’s touching me, but I’m frightened because it’s a terrible kind of dream. I’m the most disgusting sort of girl. I have no sense of myself anymore. I feel a little like I’m being stolen away and I can’t see who is taking me. I want Mr. Welter to help me, but I don’t know how to ask. Whenever I think of it, I can’t help myself. I don’t sleep well, and wake up with my feelings in knots.

Is it good to come undone like this? I feel like I have no control, which is frightening. Part of me doesn’t care if I have control. I just want to know that somebody does. Sometimes, before, when we first started talking, I’d pretend that you were the one with control. It gave me peace. Now I stand in front of the window and feel like I’m begging for somebody to come that doesn’t. I have never been so dissatisfied with myself. I am both morbidly curious and disgusted about this new self.


When she went to the Network next, she did not even bother going inside. Instead, she waited in the alley behind the building with her phone clutched in her hand. Whether it was a defense or some other folly was hard for Kanna to parse out, but she could feel every inch of her own skin in the cold and wondered why she was so cursed to ache to be touched.
OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« Last post by Verse 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.
OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« Last post by Ara on February 17, 2018, 01:22:14 am »
Bam! And, by the way Verse, I CRAZY loved Ebelt freaking out on Hiev and Hiev being sooooooo transparent!
Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Thoroughbred
« Last post by Ara on February 17, 2018, 01:21:02 am »
Grayson grinned easily when Apollo came upon him, easy delight on his features but bitter contempt in his heart. He turned toward him, looking him over pointedly. “I made friends at the party,” he explained, secretive about his lover though the state of his hair, his lack of a shirt, and the little trail of hickies yet to fade on his long neck were testament to the reality of that lover. “I was looking for a snack… thought not to wake the staff since they’re not my own and that just seems rude,” he continued, moving closer to the other man. “but I fear I’m lost.”

Ebelt rushed past them, not even pausing to take note of who was loitering in his halls. Grayson quirked a brow and turned his gaze to Apollo once more. “Are they still upset? It’s not like someone doesn’t try to kill Wicker every day. I’m sure Hyacinth will get over a couple Roses having a go at it.” A couple, he said, because he liked this rumor of Ebelt throwing poison at the champion. Winners were winners no matter how they got to the top—thrones had taught them all that lesson.


The greenhouse was bright, the lights on the plants certain that it was day. It was easy to lie to plants. It wasn’t so easy to lie to Gloria. The winding stone paths lead through lush greenery and brilliant blooms, many rare, a few considered extinct in the world outside Versailles.

She had a spot in the middle she liked most, with a little sitting area for tea and her work table to the side with little pots of almost plants to the side of mortars of powder and jars of dried leaves and, of course, the sheers. She heard the door on the far end open and close, her pale hand stilling over a bloom she’d been tempted to pluck. She listened to the steps until she was sure it was Ebelt. The bloom would live another day. She turned from it to greet her king when he arrived, ducking into the slightest of curtseys still impeccably poised. “I had hoped you would get some sleep.”

Jewl was slouched in one of the metal chairs at her sometimes-teatable. There was no tea today. Blood and saliva dribbled from his mouth, wetting his slacks where it gathered on her knee. “I didn’t need to bind him. I think he wanted to show his loyalty to Rose by not struggling. He was quite remorseful for the trouble he caused.”

She’d pulled up her white hair since the party, in a messy bun atop her head, with round, silver, thin-rimmed glasses on her little nose. She’d abandoned her gown from the ball for a white dress with barely-there straps, probably not wanting to risk Jewl messing up the other. Funny, since it wasn’t like she’d ever wear it again anyway. Still, Gloria was not one for unnecessary stains.

Sometimes Gloria thought, that if she’d had a mother, the woman would have said “waste not, want not” and she would have taken it to heart. Looking at Ebelt, that same heart wondered what she’d wasted to be left so wanting in life now. She’d gone over their time together, his climb to the throne, again and again. She still didn’t know what had gone wrong.

She was white in a sea of deep greens and dark soil and gray flagstones. She was a flower in her garden, but she was the flower wielding the sheers. She sighed like her night had been long and leaned back against her work table. “It seems Jewl thought he could be the one to kill Wicker. Not for any grand scheme or story, but just for the glory of it—the rush.” She sounded pointed unimpressed. “The boy had a bit much to drink, Ebelt.”

She hesitated, watching him. “I hear Hyacinth thinks you poisoned Wicker. Vinnia is quite set on it. Do you want me to do something about it? Put attention elsewhere or maybe find someone else for them to blame?” She looked thoughtfully at Jewl then before wrinkling her nose at the idea. It would still be Rose they pointed their calloused fingers at. Her head turned up to her old friend once more, her king. “Wicker was close with Alios tonight. It would turn some eyes to Jasmine and likely confuse everyone. He probably wouldn’t be punished for it, since Luna wouldn’t be certain,” she offered carefully.
OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« Last post by Ara on February 16, 2018, 11:14:16 pm »
Oh my gosh. I'm the worst player of all time. But I'm going to post like a total jerk, super late. Probably tonight.
Welcome Noobel Blewd! / Re: Not Exactly New
« Last post by Ara on February 16, 2018, 11:12:10 pm »
BEAU! I was just thinking about you! How have you been? Time really does move by sometimes. Like how I disappeared for a week (work week, I have crazy shifts). The book is out and hopefully the second will be out this summer. Fingers-crossed. It's turned in anyway, so it's just editing now.

And Krystal! You're so sweet to throw a link out for me! <3<3<3
Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Paper Trails
« Last post by Verse 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
« Last post by VenomousEve on February 11, 2018, 08:28:30 pm »
Kanna had never known what it was like to be enchanted until he was standing at the crux of her intimacy and teasing her appetite. What a horrible metaphor, and yet she’d feel a horrendously overwhelming sense of relief when she returned home to find the house empty. Kanna had never been so loud as she was, knelt beside her bed with her forehead against the covers and her a self-aggression between her thighs that left her shaking and weak. She was panting and flushed when she finally laid back on her carpet, rough fibers on her bare back. For whom had the show been, that she’d bothered to undress fully before spreading her legs in solitude?

kankanna: do you really think of me that way often?

She spent the evening writing for Mr. Welter, deleting paragraphs when the girl she described became too self-aware and intent on her own womanhood. When it was dark out, her mother came home and knocked on the door to see if Kanna was awake. Kanna did not lie to her parents, but she had turned off the lamp when she’d heard the car in the drive and she stayed still, fingers poised over the keys, until she heard her mother’s steps retreat. Somehow, the small deception and the compulsive honesty she’d been spilling on the page was enough to send her stumbling to her feet and throwing her curtains open.

kankanna: maybe I can pretend the night is you, the way you see me on your lover.

Kanna was a woman, smooth curves and one of those ridiculous cigarettes hanging from her lips, when she pinched at her own flesh and administered the relief of her digits with something close to violence. It seemed she could not do enough to sate her hunger, poised in front of the second-story window.

Subj: Stockholm
<<sent to: sandboy on: November 26 @ 11:58:33 pm>>

I think I’m taking shelter in my own confusion, which makes me hate myself, and that revulsion is becoming so tied to my own womanhood. I hate that too, but it only gets worse. That’s a terrible sort of spiral, isn’t it? I don’t think Mr. Welter is pulling me away from that, I’m swirling around, as you say, but somehow that’s the only thing I want. I’ve been isolating myself from everyone. Mel, my parents, they never saw me change and now it’s like I can’t bear to be near them. Isn’t that repulsive? It’s like I’m becoming some terrible sort of elitist.

I think I’m weak to be so unable to move on. That ridiculous night, the one that’s become strange and frightening fantasies, completely unset me. Maybe my hold on things before were that tenuous? I hope your lover finds relief when I can’t.


Kanna had trembled when his hand found her throat. It was the same man, the one she’d gone to so many times now. She had not forgotten that touch. Her heart was certain it had been the same touch that had precipitated this whole change. Her demon, with his chest against her back, and she was overwhelmed immediately when she realized she’d gone looking for him. There were no excuses now, without a drop of alcohol to hide and dull her morning memories. When he let her go, her movements slowed, still dancing, but with more purpose. Like she was looking for him.

She was frightened that he was staying, and more frightened that he might leave. When she could take the heat of her own skin no longer, she twisted to face him and found the taste of his tongue before she could know his face. Kanna was not a loud girl when she was drunk, but she’d become enamored with her own voice. The soft, intimate murmurs against his lips were lewd and whispered. A secret shared on the dance floor.

Subj: Stockholm
<<sent to: sandboy on: November 27 @ 8:22:03 am>>

I don’t think my mystery at the Network wants me to see his face, but I’m certain now he waits for me. Or, at least, he finds me when I go. Maybe it’s foolish and I’m tricking myself, but I think I’ve only ever been his. I don’t know if that makes me better or worse, to go back again and again to someone that tried to own me. I think girls are supposed to fight against that kind of thing.

It might be unfair to him now, too, because I didn’t mind keeping my eyes closed when it seemed like he wanted me not to see. I was picturing Mr. Welter. That’s wrong of me, right? Then again, you say you see my face when you’re with your lover. I feel like that should concern me or make me uncomfortable, but it doesn’t feel wrong to me. You’ve known all these strange parts of me, right? It makes me loathe myself that I’m not more scared, but I see that as me being wrong again and not you. So, I don’t know what it is to fantasize about someone I’ve never had. I can’t feel you’re wrong, and it makes me blush, but I feel terrible about myself for the same desire.


When Kanna could no longer endure Mel prattling on about going to the coming weekend’s football game, she excused herself from lunch and said she was feeling sick. She went to the closet Mr. Welter had told her was available, slipping inside when she was sure nobody in the hall had seen. Kanna flushed when she realized her own disappointment: the closet was empty. It did not stop her from locking the door and putting her back against the wall, pushing her skirt up without the shame she should have had and biting her own tongue to stay silent.

Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Paper Trails
« Last post by Verse 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.
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