natha: (Default)
ɴᴀᴛʜᴀ orbiters ❰ mod collective ❱ ([personal profile] natha) wrote in [community profile] nysalogs2018-02-21 09:48 pm

( event ) FIRE & BLOOD

The atmosphere has been tense in both cities ever since the new batch of refugees were shot down out of the sky. Natives and refugees alike will note that things are steadily growing worse and worse... until suddenly, the tension snaps. Chaos erupts on one seemingly ordinary night and will continue until early March, when it all comes to a head. The question is, as always... what will you do?

You may submit an AC-eligible thread set in either Olympia or Wyver for 1 OLYMPIA REP POINT OR 1 WYVER REP POINT respectively, HERE or HERE, so long as the thread involves your character complying with their faction of choice's goals and responsibilities.

As a note, faction compliance in this case refers to actions that benefit the faction in the long term. Meaning that while citizens might be revolting against one another temporarily, assisting their fellow people and business will be considered as faction compliance for the purposes of submitting REP. (For example, raiding the palace in Olympia would earn 1 Wyver REP, whereas helping put out the fires in the palace would earn 1 Olympia REP.)

You may write threads and prompts in both cities, but ICly, they should take place on different days. Please also note that travel between factions is heavily scrutinized during the events of this log. If your character travels between cities, please report it here.
EMBERS IN OUR BLOODLINES    
CHAOS ERUPTS. The city hasn't been exactly peaceful for some time — discontented grumbles have been directed at anyone who exhibits even the slightest amount of pro-Wyver (anti-Olympian) sentiment — but now, the tensions have not simply worsened: they've outright snapped.

It wouldn't be unusual to start your day to the sound of breaking glass. Perhaps it's a neighbor's window, or if you're truly unlucky, it's your own. Regardless, it's clear that there are a number of people who decide that violence is the answer. Well-armed shops such as The Sharper are left alone, but The Silk Wyrms, The Wyvernest, and other smaller businesses aren't so lucky. Visit the tailor, and you'll find that someone has broken in and slashed many of the in-progress custom orders; at the dragon cafe, someone has set many of the miniature dragons loose in a bid to purge the city of anything tainted by Wyver's influence. Many shopkeeps are fearful that the culprits might return. They're offering good silver for anyone who will retrieve stolen goods, round up the missing dragons, or find proof of who the culprits were — and for protection in case the culprits return. Linger, and you'll be in a position to potentially stop a repeat attack when the rioters come back with torches and bricks.

Members of the Royal Guard have their hands full with the fights breaking out to attend to every instance of violence against the businesses. Shouting in the squares escalates into bloody brawls — and if you spend any time outside, you'll soon see why. There's a strange mist in the most populated parts of the city, which you may recognize as having similar effects to the waters of Flona Cove that lower one's inhibitions. It spurs those who would usually agree to disagree into shouting matches, and influences people who would normally shout into throwing punches. Members of the Guard, usually a mediating force, are joining the fray themselves.

Even you aren't immune to the mist's effects. Whether you're protecting your home or place of employment, chasing down vandals, rounding up escaped dragons from the dragon cafes, or even just observing what's going on with someone else, you're likely doing it much more aggressively than you typically would... but then, this level of aggression seems to be becoming Olympia's new normal.



SINNERS TO PLAY AS SAINTS. The theaters are miraculously untouched, but The Life and Death of Nithor the Exalted is no longer being put on. Instead, passers-by are being pulled onstage to play out other scenes from Olympia's glorious history. Those who don't want to play along don't have much of a choice; those orchestrating the scenes have people out in the crowds to bring people up by force if necessary.

The base scenario is simple enough: the noble Olympian puts the pathetic Wyvern in their place. Perhaps it's a fight scene: the Olympian comes out on top, of course, and the crowd roars for blood. Wyver weapons are only props, however, but the Olympian weapons? They're very, very real. Or perhaps it's a callback to when the Olympian people marked captured Wyverns with brands to assert their dominance — there is real fire, and real brands, on stage.

If you pass as Olympian, you may be pressed to perform. If you don't want to really hurt someone, you'd best learn how to fake it — refuse to play your part, and the crowd will very quickly turn against you. If you're too obviously not Olympian, or if they recognize you as someone who went off-script last time (and they have very good memory), you'll likely be pressed into the role of an unfortunate Wyvern. Hopefully your co-star is gentle...

Break a leg. Literally, as the case may be.



CRITICAL CONDITION. With all the chaos, it's only a matter of time before people start to seek medical attention. However, along the way to The Sanctuary, they'll be faced with an almost insurmountable barricade. It isn't immediately obvious who put it up, but it's clear that nobody will be getting through it without significant effort.

Approach, and a voice will ring out warning you to keep back. It's one of the employees at the clinic; she has a crossbow in her shaking hands, and if pressed, she'll admit that they put up the barricade to keep out rioters. She understands that there are people who need their help, but the decision was made to keep themselves and their supplies safe so that when the dust settles, they can set out en masse and help more people than they could if they were raided.

If you're accompanied by someone with grievous injuries, or if you're terribly injured yourself, you may be able to convince her to let you in for a quick patch-up, but they're not giving any medicines out. If you need more supplies, you'll have to figure out another way of getting it — either by overpowering the woman on watch and raiding the clinic yourself, or distracting her so that other members of your group can sneak in and take what they need.

Making matters worse is the gigantic vulture-like creature, much larger than the birds in Murkwell Hollow... and much meaner. This beast doesn't wait for eye contact before it attacks: it swoops down out of the sky when people are gathered at the barricade, snatching up anyone it can grab in its talons, fixing on whoever's closest. However, if someone who killed a vulture is present, it pursues them with relentless determination. If not dealt with, it will attempt to eat the dead and the injured without discrimination. It can be driven off with high difficulty using weapons, magical abilities (except fire, which doesn't affect it), and the terrain to your advantage. It will retreat before it can be killed, presumably so that it can regroup and harry the next batch of people to get close to the barricade.

As it retreats it will drop feathers that can be sold to the Institute for study for 100 silver; one feather per character, please. Sales can be reported here.



PALACE BURNS. Chaos reigns for the better part of a week, and toward the end, it escalates past the point of rioting in the streets — the violence reaches Empress Simwe's palace. In the gardens where Olympians and refugees alike had lit lanterns in unity and remembrance mere weeks before, one careless (or perhaps not so careless) flame catches, spreading to the rest of the grounds and to one of the palace walls. The members of the Royal Guard, already stretched thin, are too preoccupied with trying to contain the blaze to stop anyone from pouring in through the breach.

It's an opportunity that looters and dissidents do not pass up.

Follow them in, and you'll find the elegant surroundings being torn apart. Many of the rioters are those who have it out for Simwe and are hunting for her. As she's nowhere to be found, they settle for the next best thing: setting torch to her portraits. Portraits of the late emperor, on the other hand, are left untouched. The vandals are incredibly vocal in their displeasure with Simwe's policies, and almost fanatical in their opinion that life in Olympia would be much better if Simwe had perished in her husband's place. They turn to violence when the frightened maids and other servants don't have the answers they want as they leave a trail of fire in their wake. Will you use them as a smokescreen for your own venture, or will you intervene?

Further inside, the sticky-fingered will find furnishings, clothing, jewelry — anything that isn't bolted down is fair game. In the library, the gilded titles of priceless books glitter on the shelves; in the wine cellar, Simwe's personal collection of extremely fine vintages waits to be sampled; a mirrored room furnished entirely with pillows is draped in lacy underthings; fragrant salts and bottles of perfume sit in a steam-filled bathing room; in the treasury, looters are hard at work squirrelling away silver and carrying off golden baubles. Nobody looks too closely at anyone's face unless given a reason to, but in the morning, heads will certainly roll. You could make off with your own treasure from the palace with none the wiser, or you could stop one of the looters — maybe it's even a fellow refugee — and turn them in to the guard to help restore some order to this night of chaos.

In the depths of the treasury, there is a group trying to get past a sealed door. They're an unpleasant, volatile lot, and they make a lot of noise about how if they can just get their hands on the heart of the legendary dragon, they'll be able to wipe Wyver from the map once and for all and put someone competent on the throne. After multiple failed attempts, they start offering a reward of 50 silver to anyone who makes an attempt at opening the door.

ABOUT THE DOOR: The inner treasury door is enchanted to stand up to all manner of assaults, both magical and physical. Any attempts to dispel the enchantment will fail, but characters are welcome to make attempts in exchange for cash. While minor force will be harmlessly absorbed by the shields on the door, anything of great strength will be reflected back at its point of origin — so be ready to dodge!

Whether you help the Guard put out the fire, steal from the palace, try and get past the enchanted door, or make attempts to stop the looters, your actions may have consequences later. Please report any significant actions you take here.

NOTE: Characters are welcome to steal a single minor, setting-appropriate item from the palace. Mod approval is not required. Any items of greater import in the palace are locked in a vault and inaccessible.

BLOOD ON MY HANDS LIKE THE BLOOD IN YOU    
FOR GLORY. Meanwhile, in Wyver, the holiday celebrating Nithor's death may have finished, but the spirit is still high. The citizens, eagerly awaiting the results of the contest from earlier in the month, congregate at a large stadium in the East End on the morning of the 21st and encourage refugees to join them — not only will the contest winner be announced, but there will be a series of physical trials to select Wyver's best and brightest. This yearly event is considered the true end to the holiday. They honor those who excel at the arts — whether they be standard arts or the art of combat — and with these trials, they will honor those who excel on the battlefield. King Shanrian himself speaks to kick off the festivities, holding a distinctly human skull in his hands the entire time he's in view.

Everyone, join me in praising the winners of our citywide contest! I was, heh... quite delighted with the meat jelly dish submitted by citizens Clair and Frederick. Such creativity! Meanwhile, dear Shenya loved hearing the beautiful music provided by Diva and Tani Umenosuke. And as you all well know, his vote is my vote.

Now I speak to you on a more serious note: I encourage all of you to join the legacy of those who helped bring down the mad and oppressive Nithor. I ask you all to join the trials. Show the world that we are a people of honor. For we do not seek glory, but fairness, liberty, and truth. Citizens, do you have what it takes to represent your home?



Signing up is simple. Interested parties are to submit their name at the registration desk, and by high noon, the festivities will kick off in full.

First up is a tournament — to thin the numbers down and ensure that only the best of the best make it to the end, participants are matched to a fight until one side is incapacitated. The air is thick with excitement, and bouts continue all day and through the night. Vendors have set up temporary stalls to sell food, toiletries, pillows, and blankets for those who don't wish to miss even a moment of the action.

If you're participating, you will take part in three fights before the finalists are determined; if you are not, you will be free to watch from the audience or, if you're acquainted with people who are fighting, to go behind the scenes to assist them by bringing them water or medicine between matches or even just give them moral support. Either way, you'll notice a slight shift in the air as time goes by.

Midway through the preliminary matches, the atmosphere changes from enthusiastic to outright bloodthirsty. Observers who were content to see a knock out will call for blood. People will start to clamor for the losers to lose their lives, and audience members will find themselves itching for a fight. One wrong look and the fighting might not just be constrained to the ring.

Make it through to the finals, and your trial will be more focused on teamwork: after all, the assassins who took down Nithor had to work together to get their job done. Finalists are paired off to face a variety of beasts, some from Wyver, some from Olympia, and some from other, far-flung parts of the isles. There is no set number of winners — anyone who performs well will be honored with a prize of silver at the end — but the beasts are ferocious, and it will take coordination and exceptional skill to make it out unscathed.

Either way, it's sure to be a spectacle.



HEARTY DIETS. The city's atmosphere does not become peaceful with the conclusion of the trials. Wherever you turn, the people around you seem to be more combative than usual - and in this city, that can be quite the feat.

To mark the end of another successful set of trials, the shamans of the Altar of Volkkra make dragon's blood, which they partake in for one of their rituals, more widely available to the public. Most drink it straight, although there are some who take it mixed in with other drinks. Either way, the effects are the same:
Drinking dragon's blood will feel like drinking liquid fire. It will burn the entirety of its way down and leave you with a presence in your chest that you will carry with you for three days before wearing off. It is a warmth that seems to imbue you with the strength and confidence of the dead dragon. The adrenaline will minimize any great pains, and you will have the sense that the path you choose is right.

Unfortunately, there is a downside. The dragon blood will keep you restless until the effects wear off. Confidence will turn into mindless arrogance. If you and your companion both drink the blood, you will butt heads because you will believe the other is wrong. Additionally, you may experience the need to hoard. The shamans say it is a trial you must endure to learn not to overindulge, but to someone who has never drank before, the feeling will be overwhelming.
Dragon's blood isn't the only variety to partake in. This time of year, the blood of a variety of monsters can be found to drink; it's said that consuming a creature's blood will imbue you with that creature's power. Whether this is true or not remains to be seen — some insist it's a rumor, while others swear its veracity — but fueled by the confidence the dragon's blood has drawn out of them, the natives are very insistent that you try it out, and some may even challenge you to a blood-drinking contest.

There are some who say that they've managed to procure the blood of Olympians, and that ingesting it will sap the strength of the Olympian people and bestow it upon Wyver instead. Some Wyvern natives aren't willing to allow the blood of their most hated enemies past their lips and would instead use Olympian blood to paint out scenes of their destruction, either on the walls like the murals or on charms from the Altar of Volkkra, as it is said to have the same effect. If you're offered some of this "paint," it's probably better to accept. After all, refusal would be very un-Wyvernlike, and you wouldn't want to be marked as the next target for someone hoping to procure Olympian blood, would you?



FANNING FLAMES. Since the trials, natives have lit bonfires throughout the city as a way of showing support for their favorite contenders; the belief is that as long as the flames continue to be fed, the contender will continue to fight well. Even now that the trials are over, the flames burn bright. These contenders are Wyver's hope of victory over Olympia, after all; isn't it better to keep the fires ablaze until they've brought the Olympians to their knees?

But it isn't just wood that they're using for kindling. This time they want a more personal offering. Many of the natives will shed their own blood to throw into the fire, and still more roam the streets in search of people to feed to the flames. You might find yourself one of their targets if you've been too noticeably traveling between the cities on a regular basis, or if you've made the mistake of donning the Olympian colors of white and gold even in a subtle way. Perhaps you come off as a loyal citizen of Wyver, and they've tapped you to assist them with feeding a person to the flames — If you refuse, you might face scrutiny yourself.

Chaos is on the rise. It's a bastardization of celebration that has long since gotten out of hand, although few seem inclined to try and contain it. Those who do are mainly shouted down or silenced by other means, and if you're looking to assist them in quelling the unrest, you'll have to be subtle lest you wind up facing the citizens' ire.

Luckily, there is something to provide a distraction: a gigantic vulture-like creature, much larger than the birds from Murkwell Hollow, has come to hunt . When it descends, it makes to grab anyone with its talons, with one exception — if anyone who killed a vulture in Murkwell is nearby, it will ignore the others and focus its attempts on tearing them apart with a relentless, single-minded determination. If not driven off, the dead and the injured will become its next meal, and it has no qualms about diving into the flames to snatch up bodies, as it's unharmed by fire. It can be driven off with high difficulty using weapons, magical abilities (other than fire), and the terrain to your advantage, but will retreat before it can be killed so that it can regroup and make another attempt at snatching up bodies later.

As it retreats it will drop feathers that can be sold to the Altar of Volkkra for experimentation for 100 silver; one feather per character, please. Sales can be reported here.



BEASTLY EXHIBITS.The shamans of Volkkra, perhaps under the influence of dragon's blood, have their own way of dealing with the unrest. Throughout the week, those protesting the chaos start to vanish, and either from rumors or direct observation it will soon become obvious why: they're being brought to the main Altar of Volkkra, all the way up on Namarak Summit. If you have been attempting to calm people down, you might just find yourselves taken; otherwise, you can tail the shamans to the summit to find what's going on for yourself.

Those taken to the main altar are blindfolded and thrust into the labyrinthine halls without a flame to guide their way. Shamans guard the entrances and exits; inside, all light but that of the Eternal Flame have been extinguished. Other shamans, who take part in the rumored experiments, roam the halls with wicked-looking knives in search of new test subjects. If they come across you, you'll need to either fight or run.

It is possible to escape this, either by overpowering them or by using your wits. It's even possible to find your way to the entrance and fight your way past the shamans guarding it — but the when the first person sets foot out of the halls, the shamans call for backup. Menacing shrieks and roars sound from inside the mazelike halls, and strange, mishmashed creatures emerge from the darkness.

They're angry, and they're willing to lash out at both refugee and shaman alike.

ABOUT THE MONSTERS: They are amalgamations of people and creatures from all over the isles, and each one is different. One might have the head of a Duldrum, the torso and arms of a man, and the lower half of a Glowing Snake; another might look like a Wispurr with a second head of an Unlucky Cat grafted onto it, and the abilities to match. The shamans seem to have been mixing and matching the features and abilities of both named and unnamed creatures as they see fit, and they've whipped them up into a frenzy — these chimeras crave blood, and will not stop until their targets are dead, or they are.

They can be killed with medium difficulty using your own weapons, supplies from the Altar, and any abilities you might possess; survive, and the shamans will let you go with 200 silver as compensation, having decided that you've proven your worth and that your strength may be an asset to Wyver in the future. If your character successfully kills a chimera, please report it here.


FINAL OOC NOTES    
An AC-eligible thread in which your character complies with their faction's goals for 1 REP POINT FOR EITHER OLYMPIA OR WYVER may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD FOR OLYMPIA OR WYVER HERE OR HERE RESPECTIVELY BY MARCH 14th 11:59 PM EST.

We will no longer be providing overflow posts. In an event where the post hits CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals or create their own catch-all post. These threads remain eligible for AC, AC Rewards, and REP.

1 SILVER = 1 US DOLLAR.
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-04-13 10:36 am (UTC)(link)
[He's left with schmeared cheeks and a sense of inadequacy. Not a reflection of himself, but...it's a general thing. A sigh follows her withdrawal, his eyes close briefly.]

Still, you should let me have some say before deciding such things on your own.

[Jealousy.....gtfo...]
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[personal profile] colorature 2018-04-14 05:02 am (UTC)(link)
You didn't let me have my say when you picked out Riku.

[Yeah. Yeah she still remembers that boy's name, even if she never actually got to meet him. He was cute, even if he was a little young. He would've made a nice companion, all things considered.]

So I guess now we're even?

Besides, it's not like he's a bridegroom or anything. Reign's a potential suitor in that regard.

[Do you see what happens when you let her off her leash...what trouble she gets up to...What a cursed discussion.]
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-04-14 01:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[The point of him picking Riku out was because he knows better. He is a little surprised she remembers his name, but only a little.

Women are good at hanging onto resentment.]


Reign?

[Why does that sound familiar? It's a familiar-sounding name that he's not thrilled with, like when someone mentions scabies.]

Why do you suppose that is...?

[Explain your answer. 'Because' is not applicable.]
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[personal profile] colorature 2018-04-14 04:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[Diva is especially good at holding onto resentment, but Solomon is surely aware of that after all these years.]

Because he's a vampire. He's not a Chiropteran but he still drinks blood like us.
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-04-14 09:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh okay, sounds good.

(she is also especially good at meeting weirdos wtf)

That revelation is an interesting one. He's quiet for a lingering moment -- not much to contest, especially if it all checks out. Even so, there's nothing to fret about. Diva's more invested in JJ for the time being.

How did that all of a sudden become the better option in record time?????]


I can speak with him, then. If you're interested.
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[personal profile] colorature 2018-04-14 09:36 pm (UTC)(link)
[She's unfortunately a weirdo magnet.]

I wouldn't say I'm interested...

[Not in the way she's currently infatuated with JJ. Reign is kind of just...another servant to her. A Chevalier without the title. He amuses and dotes on her, gives her attention that she craves. It's not the same though.]

But you should talk to him, I suppose.
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-04-19 12:00 am (UTC)(link)
[Listen he doesn't make the rules here. It's u. His brows arch, attempting to parse her thoughts without actually probing further. It's not her fault she doesn't know how the fuck to function and dubs everyone her slavehusband.]

I will.

[He'll probably have to talk to both of them at some point about the same exact thing...]

Is there anyone else I should be aware of?
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[personal profile] colorature 2018-04-19 12:09 am (UTC)(link)
[You're right, it's not her fault. Blame Joel and being raised in a shitty tower for years on end with only Amshel for company. Your sense of normal would kind of be skewed after that]

Anyone else? You mean as a potential suitor? [Pause.] Well, I told you about Keaton...but he's my best friend.

[And also a furry.]
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-04-19 01:45 am (UTC)(link)
[Does she know the difference between a best friend and a husband??? Probably not.

In other words, what he's saying is: NO MORE SURPRISES.

But what even makes Keaton her best friend...]


Noted.

[This would be a Thumbs Up moment if he were a fucking nerd.]
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[personal profile] colorature 2018-04-19 01:49 am (UTC)(link)
You know, everyone I tell that you want a baby says you should just have one with me instead.

[What a cursed discussion...if you don't want surprises maybe you should pay more attention to her!!!]

If you want one you should find me a suitor unless I'm to do all the work myself.
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-04-19 10:25 am (UTC)(link)
[First, why are they giving her such shitty advice?

Two, it really shouldn't be so surprising, considering the number of suitors she's approached, but why does she gotta bring that up to strangers.

And lastly, don't give him any bad ideas. Despite how uncertain he is about her discussing this willy-nilly, there is some part of him that feels pretty decent in others essentially voting for him.]


It's because you haven't told them the full story.

[Get out of here..]

I will, I haven't had enough time to locate one with any potential.

[Don't be impatient...everyone here's lame...it's not his fault.]
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[personal profile] colorature 2018-04-19 11:09 pm (UTC)(link)
What do you mean full story? I tell them enough.

[Really man, what do you want her to say? It's not like she even knows your indepth weird ass baby plan.]

Is it not that pressing then?

[You were kind of obsessed back home...]
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-04-21 04:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[This is like when you ride the crazy cups as a 30 year old adult. The one ride you've come to trust, know like the back of your hand, sometimes even encourage a little extra winding if you manipulate your weight one way or another. It's all fun and games until you hit 30. Suddenly everything's nauseating and nothing makes sense.

Enter: the histrionics that come with settling on a new planet as Solomon. He's barely unearthed anything of merit on his own terms in the institute, he's not prepared to sit at his desk and act like Patti Stanger. So far everyone he's met has been subpar in some way. Unimpressive, obnoxious -- while nothing of that holds water in terms of procreation and DIVA, he's not met any otherworldly beast that could match any sort of potential. Come close to anything he'd been trying to do back home.]


Would you like to try it?

[With him, that is.]

It won't take long.

[Triggered.]
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[personal profile] colorature 2018-04-21 04:44 pm (UTC)(link)
With who? You?

[That's...what he's implying, right? She's following this train of thought correctly, right? There's a clear look of confusion on her face as she looks at Solomon, before her attention turns to her bloody hands. Messy.]

Does it really not take long? I thought for human girls it did.

[Carrying the baby, that is. Leave it to literally everyone for not giving her a proper biology lesson and not having things explained to her farther than insert tab A into slot B.]

Is it different for Chiropterans?
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-04-21 05:45 pm (UTC)(link)
I wouldn't know.

[Which is probably bullshit. This is one of those things he doesn't want to talk about at length because it isn't even what he meant, jeeze. He's moving nearer to her, lowering into a familiar squat.]

If you're satisfied with the mess you've made, we can venture our opportunity here.
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[personal profile] colorature 2018-04-21 05:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[How do you not know? She wants to ask. She doesn't, though, instead raising her gaze back to meet Solomon's once he lowers himself closer to her level.]

Mm, I'm satisfied.

[She's done finger painting with blood.]
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-04-21 06:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[This whole thing is more awk when u remember he's wearing a bat purse.

Anyway, he'll be taking one of her nasty hands, leveling her fingers with his lips to press his mouth to her knuckles. It's a slow, deliberate undertaking...though he shouldn't be so cautious? Provides ample opportunity for her to get him dirty/freak her shit.

Not that there's a whole lot to freak out about atm.]
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[personal profile] colorature 2018-04-21 06:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[Rock it, Solomon.

Her hands may be nasty, but at the very least it is human blood that coats them. Fresh too. Not that it matters much. She finds no reason to freak out or think much of him kissing her knuckles. It's not like he hasn't done so before. To her, it's just a normal thing to do. Amshel did it too, after all.]
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-04-27 12:59 am (UTC)(link)
[His lips are schmeared with blood and his tongue laves out along the crease of his lips to remedy that, threatening to skim her fingers in the process...but he refrains, somehow. Unless offered, he'll remain cordial enough.

Why Solomon's expecting her to reciprocate, if not encourage him is the dumbest fucking thing to think about, but his gaze lifts to locate hers, waiting......]
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[personal profile] colorature 2018-04-27 01:11 am (UTC)(link)
[His gaze meets her and she holds it for a moment before letting it fall to her fingers. Gently she moves to press her thumb against his lower lip, as if to stain them even further. She seems to find it funny in doing so, the corners of her mouth twisting upward. Whether or not he wants to give said fingers a lick is up to him, but she won't stop him if he decides to chance it. After all, her thumb is already threatening to be stuck in his mouth in the first place.]

It's like you're wearing lipstick.
Edited 2018-04-27 01:13 (UTC)
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-05-01 12:25 am (UTC)(link)
[His lips part slightly, enough to offer ingress, enough for his tongue to carefully lash against the offered digit without drawing it in -- that's still on her. The gesture's scant of teeth, of course, though he'll maintain eye contact all the while.

Lipstick...how...........unflattering of her to say...but if it's amusing her enough to upkeep his fucked up ideas of a fun, positive experience, then: whatever. He'll clean her finger and remain poised for the next, should she offer another. He'll will himself to be passive for her.]
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[personal profile] colorature 2018-05-01 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
[It's a twisted, strange relationship the two of them share. It'd be hard for outsiders, if they watched the two of them enough, to really tell who's in control of who. While Solomon is unable to not heed Diva's final words or desires, it's clear he's got her wrapped around his finger...as much as one could. In the end she always defers to him, especially now without Amshel being around. Solomon is her new number one, irreplaceable, as she'd told him before. He might've not been her favourite in the past, but he's risen in the ranks of her S-Link chart. No matter what happens here, she knows she can depend on him, even if he probably doesn't want to.

Solomon might not think much goes on inside her head, that she's a creature driven ultimately by desire and instinct and while that may be true, it doesn't mean she is incapable of feeling worried or anxious about things. There is worry, low-key, deep down, that Solomon might someday grow tired of her. After all, this planet wasn't Earth and the game they'd been playing had been changed. No longer did her dream need to be fulfilled - this world had monsters of all sorts living and working in various jobs and fields. So far she'd been accepted, even if she's been scolded many times for her bad eating habits.

For as much time as she's spent with Solomon, she doesn't really know him outside of what little about himself he's given her. He's just been there, a constant, obedient, by Amshel's side. Just what did he want from her, a child aside? Was that really all she could offer him?

The thought has her suddenly pushing her index finger past his lips and into his mouth for him to lick or suck clean. Why he feels the need to do such a thing she's not really sure, but she's not going to overthink it either.]


Are you hungry?

[Surly licking blood off her fingers won't be enough to sate whatever desire he might have, right?]
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-05-01 10:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[His cheeks are slightly smeared in his endeavor, though he wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Her fingers are still largely messy and the smell of blood is thick, immediate, giving his proximity. Her forefinger slips further and he'll only tongue it clean, wary of his teeth.

He'll draw away after some reluctance, if only to speak.]


My desires are extraneous, wouldn't you say?

[Funny he'd even feign humbleness here, as he's being fucking gross and whatnot. A hand rises, his larger fingers slip and bend between hers.]

What is it that you're craving?

[Any answer that isn't: Your Dick will be upsetting.]
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[personal profile] colorature 2018-05-01 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[Solomon is smart to be wary to bite the hand that feeds him, and so Diva remains content enough as her Chevalier licks her fingers clean. He doesn't do a very good job of it, but it's not as if she's ever cared about having sticky fingers in the first place.]

I wouldn't say they're extraneous...

[Meaning, they do matter to her, to a degree. If they didn't, she wouldn't still be hung up on the fact he wants her to have a kid. His fingers find her bloody ones, as they lace together. There's something about that little gesture that has her heart skipping, just a little bit. Could just be indigestion though. She had done a bunch of shots of dragon blood earlier on.]

What am I craving?

[She gives his hand a squeeze suddenly, sharp nails digging ever so slightly into his knuckles. There are a lot of things she desires, but 'Your Dick' isn't an answer, namely because she doesn't even know the option exists. 'Make a baby' and doing that sort of act simply for the fun of it hasn't crossed her mind. Sex and Pleasure aren't linked together in her mind, even if she knows that humans get it on and seem to enjoy themselves. Ignorance is bliss, but that's on Solomon's shoulders to strip that away.]

Your attention.

[The answer is easy enough to come to. It's what she always wants, at the end of the day - attention and companionship. It might not exactly be the answer he wants to hear, but he can interpret it whichever way he pleases.]
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[personal profile] semblant 2018-05-03 10:45 am (UTC)(link)
[Their joint hands lower some, he scoots nearer to her, sits up a bit straighter. He doesn't mind the pinpoints sensation of her fingernails biting into his skin -- he's endured worse.]

You have it now, don't you?

[She's always had it, even as negligent as he'd been in the past. Since arriving here. He's a borderline lunatic about their circumstances, actually. He's just not much of a companion. A terrible babysitter.

On the subject of being a shitty babysitter, a hand finds the back of her neck, urging her a bit closer. The endgoal here is to bump their foreheads, erase the distance between their faces and vague normalcy. She's free to protest, of course. ]

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