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OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« Last post by Verse 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.
Welcome Noobel Blewd! / Re: Hi yall!
« Last post by Readvictor on May 18, 2018, 07:33:39 am »
I want to know more information to do to develop in the future help me?
OOC Discussion / Re: Thoroughbred
« Last post by BrendonRi on May 07, 2018, 01:41:13 pm »
Why do you say that, Verse? Are all kings angry? Hmm, I suppose you're right now that I think about it lol.
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.
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