shikomizue: (pic#9306730)
all teeth, but not smiling ([personal profile] shikomizue) wrote in [community profile] nysalogs2018-04-11 08:58 pm

. all you have's your axe to grind . closed

Who: Takasugi Shinsuke ([personal profile] shikomizue) & "Friends" | Closed
What: Catch All For April-May-June
When: Over April / May / June
Where: Mostly Wyver, some Thesa and Olympia
Warning(s): alcohol + graphic violence + bang + will edit as needed

[ closed starters in the comments ]
semblant: (pic#12003156)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-04-27 01:12 am (UTC)(link)
[Solomon is the Rooms Worst Cheerleader. Throughout Takasugi's tournament, he's only offering a few disinterested glances -- checking in from afar, making sure he hasn't passed out or vomited on the game. It isn't as though he spends his whole time idle by the door; he finds a char eventually, orders a couple of drinks that are only slightly below standard. The bartender even proves to be sociable for Wyver trash.

It feels like far longer than an hour, but Takasugi approaches him sooner than that. He offers him a look of feigned unexpectedness. Oh, so you remembered.........]


It's fortunate you aren't, then.

[Says the guy whose wanted nothing but to leave asap.]

Did you finally lose?
semblant: (pic#12079224)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-04-27 02:52 am (UTC)(link)
You're joking.

[A quick accusation, not at all a question. A demand to undo the past's written somewhere between the vowels. He doesn't even spare the sweaty man a proper look -- nothing past initial clarification. He's had this suit tailored, this is the first time it's seen the light of -- err, seen Wyver's evening glow? He's not prepared to donate it. Not because he can't afford another, but because it's of Takasugi's doing. He didn't consent to this-- And then it occurs to him that the samurai's completely dressed and that if did bet all they'd had, he'd be in a much sorrier state.]

...Aren't you clever.

[The belated, obvious answer to his question: No. No It Would Not.]

What did you win, then? Enough for another bottle of anise mixed with excrement?

[The two worst things to simultaneously ingest. And he was just getting along so well with the tender...]
semblant: (pic#12079239)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-05-03 12:57 am (UTC)(link)
[Suspiciously kind indeed. That's probably the nicest thing Takasugi's said to him yet, punctuated by the odd look he'll be receiving for it.

He must be drunk already.

He'll take the cup that's practically being forced unto him, lest it spill over the seat of his pants.]


To our revolting company...

[He'll sniff it before tasting it. Barely a sip -- he's skeptical of whatever drink Takasugi may offer him, if only because he has questionable taste. In general. It's strong, but not undrinkable. He'll help himself to a second sip before setting it safely atop the bar. His body won't allow him to reach a state of intoxication at an ordinary level, but his taste-buds have limits.]

At least you're aware.

[Of the shit company. They've agreed on something, so he's gotta stretch that convo a bit.]
semblant: (pic#12003137)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-05-03 10:30 am (UTC)(link)
[Solomon can infer that if Takasugi isn't intoxicated at the moment -- or even slightly tipsy, that ought to change in a moment. Cues for another adaptation of fun linger between them -- emanate from Takasugi, really. He's sliding out of his yukata, talking suggestively enough for his gay ass brain to fill in the blanks according to his line of thought.

A scoff provides a fleeting placeholder.]


Do you think that's possible?

[Not to be a stick in the mud, but he has to maintain his position in being as antagonistic as possible without making an enemy out of Takasugi. Strangely enough, abrasive conversations notwithstanding, the man to his side is one of the few people occupying this bizarre planet who really understand him.

Even though they've only scratched the surface.

A finger taps the rim of his glass, pensive. His other hand settles lightly atop the samurai's thigh. There's a grip to be had, but it's all very flimsy.

Don't mind him.......]
semblant: (pic#12120878)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-05-04 01:12 am (UTC)(link)
[That pause is an awfully long one. His head tilts closer to Takasugi's, ignoring how questionable he seems overall. The movement around his hand has him looking over once more, brows slightly furrowed -- contemplative but without concern.]

You have the worst taste in alcohol.

[On one hand, he can continue being monotonous in complaining about Takasugi's tastes in alcohol simply for the sake of doing so. On the other hand, he could down the drink just to get it out of the way. He's exercised both methods before. In the past, the latter's earned a refill.

The former's an awfully boring option, still.

Seeming to favor the material against his fingers rather than his skin, he'll go ahead and single-handedly tip the glass against his lips. He'll ascertain that advice as a challenge for the sake of it all -- the asininity of the evening. Worse has stung his throat and made him feel like upchucking.

When the glass finds a spot atop the counter, it's void of liquid.



And his face is scrunched up distastefully. Tast like NyQuil.]
semblant: (pic#12003125)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-05-04 03:12 am (UTC)(link)
[He's impressed at his dexterity in refilling their glasses, though he's probably had enough practice. He'll hold his cup steady throughout, in spite of not really wanting..anymore...of it....]

It's all about booze with you.

[He'll keep his whims subtle, though the jump from leg to waistband shouldn't be so for his victim -- 'victim'. To be fair, it isn't all about booze, hasn't been, but they've shared drinks often enough to gripe about it.

He'll be tugging that fabric a bit looser in the meantime, Takasugi's become sloppy enough between his weird game and now where it's not much of a task.]


Aren't you bored of it?
semblant: (pic#12079229)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-05-07 10:39 am (UTC)(link)
[At first, he's not sure if Takasugi's object to the whole thing. If so, he's not gonna force it. Nevermind that they're in public, at a bar, and many factors play into countering any sort of controversial touch.

He'll go to take his drink in the second it takes for Takasugi to draw himself close. It isn't consumed; he's readily distracted by that closeness. The once-intrusive hand winds its way around his companion's middle, brows tense with ambivalence.]


Ah.

[For a moment, he thought to offer the drink to Takasugi, but he appears to be all set. It finds a place at that bar once more, and his newly freed hand sinks into the back of his nasty, greasy hair.]

Shall I bring you home?
semblant: (pic#12079221)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-05-08 02:19 am (UTC)(link)
[Gonna have to go with option 2 here since u put so much effort into it...

The joak goes overhead. He is, however, prompt in rising to his feet, shooting that refilled glass a look of burden before it's entirely disregarded. He's sliding off that stool to trail after Takasugi. Whether or not he's capable of taking himself home remains to be seen.

There are several instances where he's fairly certain Takasugi has no clue where he is to begin with and may very well end up face-planting. Most of their march isn't paved, after all. Even so, he doesn't end up having to intervene, though the journey wanes his patience. He's about to give in, lead the leader elsewhere, toward the nearest hotel, but apparently he lives in this grotto before them.

Its appearance has him testing the back of his head for grime. A response he's yet to experience. Very good.]


...You can't be serious.

[Honestly, this is entirely predictable. If Takasugi were to lead him to a sprawling estate, he'd be shocked. This is perfect for him. Perfect as much as unappealing in every way.

It suits him.]


That primitive tavern was more charming than this.

[Let him complain for a lil bit...]
Edited (i keep forgetting to pick an icon) 2018-05-08 02:21 (UTC)
semblant: (pic#12003125)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-05-08 03:22 am (UTC)(link)
[Funny enough, Solomon's never been one to make a big deal out of aesthetics. Physically or otherwise. Contrary to his posh behavior, most of his vapid discordance regarding EVERYTHING that has to do with Takasugi is simply because of that; it's related to him. Somewhere along the lines, being contrary to everything he enjoys became normal.

This then becomes a difficult thing to keep up when they've reached an agreement.

He'll hum in response, proceed onward. His quarters are unexpectedly shitty, unfit for even a barn animal. It nearly makes him feel bad. They may've reached the same conclusion, but at the same time, Takasugi probably enjoys living in squalor.

He's abnormal. Perhaps as much as he himself. Maybe even more.

Still following, he'll brush the drapes aside with the back of a hand -- the same one testing his hair for grime. Being formally beckoned is what has him finally hesitating, if only for a beat. While this is the most basic of basic bedrooms, he's aware of where this may lead. Takasugi doesn't come off as someone who requires a bodily comfort to ease into sleep.

And still, he goes.]


This isn't a place for anyone to live.

[A compelling statement. Again, it's hard to score an argument when the host's already agreed. When he's near enough, he'll curl a hand over the back of Takasugi's beckoning finger -- the knuckles of that hand, to be more specific and less awkward. Romantique.]
semblant: (pic#12003125)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-05-12 09:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[He's surprised enough at the tender gesture -- what follows doesn't quell that any. It's not as gentle as one may expect, but there's a veneer of something decidedly charming beneath the drag of teeth. He may be bracing himself for something more violent, expectations that follow having bitten into the very same person's neck once before. His free hand lifts and tucks into his flagrantly-opened top, fingertips grazing along his hip, finding eventual purchase while using his wrist to loosen his yukata all the more.

A vain effort if that sash is holding fast.]


Is that your expectation for the evening?

[Maybe it's because he's not drunk enough, but while that might've been some offhand bullshit comment, Solomon's brain's gone as far as to debate the probability of Takasugi owning anything condom-like. Less about disease (though that'd be worrisome for a minute), more about access.

Like, a smooth entry.


Anyway. Neither here nor there. Takasugi hasn't provided the most enchanting of keywords (legitimately) to lead into intimacy, but he'll bow his head forward and purse his lips against the crook of his neck, smearing over the spot he'd punctured previously. This time it's all lip, in a trail that ends just behind his earlobe.

Or, the base of his jaw.]


We could have kept it simpler if we stayed back there.

[Not that the nasty tavern was any better than his hovel. They're kinda equal. Both have insurmountable cons, for example.]
semblant: (pic#12079239)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-06-16 03:30 pm (UTC)(link)
[Solomon's doing what he can to keep his focus reigned in -- on Takasugi. Their accommodations may offer more than what meets the eye, but he isn't interested. Come what may, something like that. He doesn't even have to be inebriated to think so irresponsibly. At the end of the day, the attention proves worth it.

That's all it is, really.

The abuse isn't something he likes. It's happening, endurable, maybe slightly intriguing; it isn't everyday someone simply manhandles him (not to say their situation is a simple one) in even the barest of ways. He'll grunt initially, angle into the hand to reduce the strain -- it isn't the first time he's felt such a warmth, a threat so precarious, but he's entirely fine with it for the most part. Takasugi may not be a beast that thrives off another's blood, but that's only fact for him because he's a creature of Giorgio A. Tsoukalos' brain. He thrives on it in other ways, but something about the safety net of immortality prevents him from interfering.

On the other hand (literally) he'll encourage the edges of fabric from the samurai's shoulders -- a decidedly tender motion, something to contest his rampant, immediate needs.]


I wasn't aware of how starved you are.

[A jibe, while at the same time, a suspicious heat rises rigid between them, he doesn't mind it.]

I won't hear your complaints afterwards.

[Even in his would-be stalling.]
semblant: (pic#12120871)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-06-18 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[He doesn't shy away from the mauling; it's subtle -- not an unfamiliar feeling to him, though it somehow stings and carries more of a harshness in comparison to a bite from Diva. Her fangs are sharper, she isn't so focused on the wound itself as much as nourishment. His flesh already begins healing around that initial point of breakage -- not entirely, as he's being worked to bleed, it's a kneejerk automatic occurrence.]

Yet, I'm the monster.

[Low, soft -- nothing more than a tease. He can't recall in recent years, someone rending him just for the sake of doing so -- battles and such aside. Like a high of some sort, a means to embellish an already-significant(ish) rendezvous. A hand chases the yukata as it falls, indiscriminately tracing over scars with some tenderness, admiration.]

Still, I expect you to replace what you've taken.

[Not now, but at some point. His exploration bumps the cloth of his cottony undergarment just as his opposite moves to seize Takasugi by the chin. If he's finished gorging on him, he'll be leaning in for a kiss, manually trying to create the proper accommodations. Of course, it won't be so simple as peck; teeth are involved, raking at his fuller lip and indulging in his own blood -- he's not being firm enough to pierce the samurai's lip. Not quite, deliberately so.]
semblant: (pic#12120866)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-06-30 12:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[There's something strangely fine, okay, vaguely appealing in letting Takasugi 'feed' from him even as it offers no benefits and could very easily be seen as a slight against him. As it were, there's only pleasure to be found between them. He can smell the blood on his lips before he sees it, a stillness lingers between their faces for a moment that feels incredibly long.

But not awkward. There's an eventual kiss and he's still busy elsewhere, after all. They've both been adequately exposed and blindly, his fingers move to handle Takasugi's heat. They wrap around his length in a warm, automatic fist, pumping tentatively comes next. As if he requires further cajolery. Assuming he's find with a little handy j, his hips angle closer -- enough so that he can extend his thumb and pin his cock beneath it. Ultimately, he's doing some doublefisting with a single hand, grinding their cocks together with slow friction provided by his palm.

A lilting noise makes its way into their bloody liplock, decidedly unbothered by the taste of his own blood. That muscles flicks up, rolls in turn -- inviting him in, more or less. He wikes it.]

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