nysalogs | [open mingle] from my laboratory in the castle east

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[open mingle] from my laboratory in the castle east

Who: EVERYONE!
What: Diva's! Birthday! Masquerade!!
When: August 4
Where: the Nadril caves
Warning(s): This is a mingle, so please indicate if your starter isn't OTA. Also: please put any necessary warnings in your subject lines when things pop up!

Atsushi has been planning this for a while now, but needless to say, a certain dragon forced him to adapt his plans, and arguably not for the better. Still, he's determined to make this work! Diva told him she's never had a birthday party in all of her long life, and that is just not all right - so of course he promised her she'd have one this year.

He... should have maybe not said anything, and just done this in secret. Or at least he should have known better than to ask Diva what kind of party she wanted, because she sure had a lot of wishes... That's Diva for you, though. Besides, after more than 170 years without a birthday party, she deserves to say exactly what she wants!

Atsushi has spent more time than he probably should have, decorating a part of Nadril's cave system with fairy lights and anything else he could find. For being in a cave, the setting is very atmospheric! There's food, drinks, and recorded music - not all of it suited for a party, but there are instruments too, for the more talented guests.

A masquerade was Diva's first and foremost wish, and with everyone having limited means and fewer possessions here, masks have kindly been provided by your hosts at the entrance. Some are classy; some are a little unusual; some are -....... Well, you should probably be at the party in time, so all the good masks haven't been taken yet. How well have you disguised yourself? Did you bother to hide your identity at all?

A gift for the birthday vamp is appreciated, but your presence is the biggest gift. There's no better time than the present to forget the unresolved situation elsewhere on the planet, and have a little fun together!

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[Takasugi sucks in a breath and slides his tongue over the invading digit all at once. Tasting the salt on the man's thumb, indulging too much whatever impulse had possessed him to commit an act so lewd.

In the hopes of more.

He isn't planning on whipping it out at the party, either, but there are secluded caverns, deeper in the cave.

Something to return to later, it seems. Solomon's hand on his shoulder isn't salacious, but there's a suggestive nature to it all the same.] I'll look forward to it- [Whispered into the man's ear after a sway of the hips brings them flush.

He doesn't know this style of dance, but if Solomon's going to lead, he'll fall in step. All while holding himself too close, an obstruction more than submission.]

[It's Takasugi's signature move in actual physical form: a hot mess right smack in the goddamn way. Not to suggest he doesn't appreciate the closeness (this is the equivalent of twerking at your child's first birthday party, close to it), but if they're to actually dance, Takasugi's already causing problems.

He doesn't seem to mind; there's no qualm in the way his mouth runs down that stretch of neck, a proper kiss marks the bend of it.]

Now then... [There's a sway of the hips; he doesn't outright mind being set so close to Takasugi, as long as he can figure out how to follow his movements. Movements that are slight; he's just slowdancing, nothing fancy. Shifting his weight from one foot to another, turning every now and then.] If you've been drinking, we don't need to carry on like this.

[They can lie down, take it out back. Diva shouldn't cause a scene as long as he's back in under ten minutes...]

[If they're to dance, then it will be a display that suits them. Music bent to their rhythm, traditions forsaken to indulge. Solomon accepts the proximity without complaint, even compliments it with a tender brush of lips.

Takasugi hums, the vibrations of his voice lingering between their chests.

With their pace so subtle, the dance being unknown to him is hardly an issue. His hips sway along with Solomon's, pressed deliberately to create friction as their weight shifts.] Ah...?

Are you hoping to get a drink, yourself? [If that's all it takes to convince Solomon to slip away, Takasugi will spare some blood. Though, he's in no rush to break the waltz they've fallen into. Simple motions are easy to understand; soon he's stepping first, stealing the lead away.]

[There's a scoff; his hand sinks lower along the small of his back, fingers smoothing over his waistband just a bit. Nothing meant to be so suggestive as much as he's just being indulgent. Fingers flex against the spot, holding him close with that very grip.]

I've watched you spill enough [of ur own] blood to be wary of such offers.

[(ill-placed) Concern masked as something disparaging. Per usual, Solomon won't fight to lead. If anything, he's proud of Takasugi for figuring it out.]

What would you like in exchange?

[In its descent, Solomon's hand brushes over a scar that sits just to the side of Takasugi's spine. Depressed in the center, raised flesh surrounding - a precise goring made more severe by his inability to stay down.

It's not so obvious, under the fabric of his clothing, but Takasugi feels his numb flesh there sting, a phantom of a feeling he'd never suffered. The whole time it'd healed, he'd been unconscious.

Unlike the bloodshed Solomon has witnessed, has become entangled with every part of. From inflicting the wounds to patching them up with still reforming hands.

He wonders when Solomon will accept that his blood spills rather freely - a currency he understands. An exchange he prefers.] A swim... [What a shitty suggestion! He just wants to see Solomon fight the cave monster! Skinny dipping is just a bonus.]

[He's been schooled in the matter of wounds, scarring, healing -- ancient wisdom he's kept personally updated, but even he's unaware of the extent of that scarring Takasugi bears; how old it is, calloused or permanently anesthetized. His fingers continue to tread the spot over fabric, deceived by the sleekness of his top.

In relation to his vast medical knowledge, that suggestion is unnerving.]

You want to go swimming after I've taken blood from you?

[A method to prevent him from draining too much, perhaps.]

If that's what you'd like...

[A method to continuously put Solomon's promise to the test. Takasugi doesn't doubt that the man would protect him - protect his suicidal interests - but he's not the considerate type. An agreement like this simply feeds his recklessness, the monster's strength now his own to command on a whim.

And tonight, that just might be in a pokebattle against a giant cave monster.]

I don't plan on drowning. [If anything, he'll just be uncomfortably cold.

Which is where the nude swim comes into play.

Takasugi breaks rhythm, shifting to the side. His hands fall from Solomon's, grazing down his back, over hip, before falling away entirely. Regretfully-

He breaks from the party, leading their way deeper into the cave until the din has faded into indistinguishable echoes. There's no nook to duck into, but neither is there much light. His pace tapers until he's stopped, pressing his back to the wall.

One hand outstretched, goading the monster forward.] Go ahead. Indulge yourself. [Salacious...]

[Solomon follows with a lingering look over a shoulder, lest Diva catch him departing. He'll need to have an excuse ready, an empty promise. It all takes off without a hitch, but he won't be so naive to let his guard down. They managed to evade the birthday girl and her weird as fuck cohorts (hypocritical, yeah), but they aren't in the clear just for that.

Diva would be the least of their worries, by comparison. Cave dwellers, from your average homeless weirdo guy to Nessie with human legs...

It eventually becomes difficult to perceive things -- not for him, but in general. He's prepared to complain when Takasugi's footfalls cease to be and he's very nearly physically drawn in. He does step closer, moves to take Takasugi by his side; it's a motion he fumbles at first -- darkness and such. His nose levels out with a temple, he'll use the bridge of it (etc) to brush his hair back...only after he's pushed his own mask up to his forehead.]

Turn around?

[Always straight and to the point. Once in a while, it's fun to ease into these things.]

[When Solomon's clumsy contact solidifies into a sure grip, Takasugi curves his spine. Hips and chest forward, head lulled back, a dampened display of eroticism that sinks away against the man's body when proximity between them lessens.

He's left with a sigh, the dredges of relaxation.

His urges for Solomon to indulge didn't include care. There's intimacy in the gesture - that isn't what Takasugi bristles against. It's the gentle touch, unsuited to such a voracious desire.

If he shudders under such careful hands, he'll lose his patience entirely.

Better to make it a rough exchange, based in impulse and need.

(He's backed himself into this corner, a casual offer and a secluded - romantic in Solomon's mind? - location.)

Takasugi turns, but it's with lips pressed thin and head thudding against the slick cave wall.

He hopes the cave monster takes a bite out of Solomon's spine.]

[It is romantic, in a twisted way. The whole reason they've found themselves here to begin with sort of takes away from it all, but it's fine. Minor details. The important thing is that Takasugi's winding around in his grip, offering himself as a banquet. An arm encases his middle, another comes up from his ribs, fingers splaying out over the center of his exposed chest.

Just feeling for irregularities. A hastened pulse beneath branded skin. Speaking of, Takasugi's made it easy for him to ascertain which side he's favoring, which one he's offering. A cold press of his nose guides him high up on his throat. An inopportune spot for draining.

Which is precisely not what he does, after taking what might feel like several minutes nuzzling the spot, lapping at it, teasing with his teeth. He doesn't pierce the spot, but locks on -- draws it between his lips, works it like so. Marks him in a spot that would be exposed regardless.

Considering his style, anywhere would have done well in terms of exposure, but there's something exciting (domineering?) in being a deliberate piece of shit.]

[There's a pallor to Takasugi's skin, slick with chilled sweat. He hadn't worked himself up dancing, and the cave's temperature is on the colder side. It's just humid, mostly, moisture clinging to him even under the thin fabric of his clothing.

He won't tense - won't acknowledge any signs of alarm his body tries to convey.

Until Solomon's teeth graze his neck, just below the ear. The taste of sweat and smoke is thick there, the scent of his tobacco woven into the fiber of hair that sticks to his neck. Brushing it away, only to suck and nurse the tendon beneath, is just as infuriating as Solomon had hoped.

The mark is a challenge he can accept, but the suspense is building in his chest. Each pass of lips could be a prick of teeth. It doesn't scare him; he hates the uncertainty.]

You're getting distracted. [He keens his head away with the accusation, tilting just enough to shoot Solomon a glare that's augmented by the lack of light. His hand raises to grip the other's jaw, jerking it close to a more regular spot to sup from.

With control wrested for now, his heart beat calms.]

[He doesn't mind it; he's gotten used to Takasugi's flavor, scent -- all of him. His lips have grazed far-less appealing things even in recent times. Like dragon's blood, for example.]

I'm not. [Softly, even through his impatience. Like he's up to something, cus best believe a motherfucker is. He'd elaborate further, talk about preparing him but his mouth's being manipulated; rather than teeth, a smirk smears his sweet spot, temptation beating against it.

It goes neglected overall. Instead, he'll catch Takasugi's hand with his own, pry it from his jaw. A succeeding nuzzle finds the heart of his palm, but the samurai's not interested in such tenderness. His mouth protests down the center of it to his wrist...

Only for his teeth to prick into the tendons of it. Something different.]

[Takasugi would rather Solomon transform into his monstrous form and tear his neck out completely than... whatever this is. Confidence, a coy response taking the place of what he'd expected to be a complaint. The smirk against his neck robs him of his own.

His hand begins to fall, not in surrender but frustration, muscles aching to flex in and out of a fist.

He's moments from slamming knuckles against the blonde's jaw when fingers wrap around his wrist and steady it. As if his outburst has been predicted. Wide eyes meet that nuzzle - a taunt that makes his jaw and the tendons in his neck tense with anger - and he thinks to pull away.

But teeth sink in, and he's rendered incapable of even that much. Tearing away would ruin the tendons, a danger to the years he's dedicated to the sword. It's below the belt, biting there; Takasugi's fingers curl, nails digging crescents into his palm.]

What are you doing? [Blood flows more freely than usual, every shred of flesh in his arm burning in protest, in a response pinned between fight and flight.]

[Teeth linger only long enough to pierce the spot, just enough to allow some bloodflow, nothing overtly threatening, dangerous. His lips purse and spread over the spot, selfishly indulging in the bounty, taking his time to respond.]

Isn't it obvious?

[Hips fall forward, intentions obvious. Another hand slips between, not to enhance anything for anyone but himself. A flat palm rests over his heart, slipping beneath fabric to do so. A thumb automatically shifts and works against scarring. His tongue chases a trail of blood down his forearm, a purse of appreciation muffles the spot of its absence.]

We're doing things differently this time.

[Takasugi's face has lost some color - a few hues lighter than it had been, made even more obvious by the red mask shoved up in his hair. He's pale, even in the ghostly light of the cavern.

Fingers still curling, mechanically now, to retain feeling even as he feels a chill rush over them.

Biting there leaves the rest of his body less leaden, but the indomitable rush is dizzying. He watches as teeth leave his flesh, in an instant remembering the weight of his sword on his hip and the freedom of his other hand.

But he's been predicted once more.

Solomon sups from him and steadies him all at once. Takasugi won't call the warmth, the steadying, a comfort, but it stays his impulse to lash out. Pressure against his scars, the thrum of a pulse against his own...

He sucks in a breath.] ...too indulgent. [All but those words lost to an inhale, Takasugi's unoccupied hand rises to curl in blonde locks, instead of rend flesh.

After all, he'd always wanted to see the creature gorge itself. A desire he's cultivated long enough to hold himself in check to see.] Don't disappoint me now. [It'd better be worth his restraint.]

[The alternative location shouldn't do much in terms of affecting him more or less -- it's all about restraint, which he's had plenty of practice with. Even on his worst days he isn't a glutton. Not here. Not with the regulars. More than forcibly drawing red from him, he's mopping up, suckling the spot as a means of restoration (ha), deliberately marking his wrist in the process. His eyes close at the distinct gesture of affection...that opposite hand.]

You're just the same.

[He's drawn away to kiss him -- smear some red along his cheek, peck affection there, to the corner of his lip, circle back to the wound for more moppage. It's all probably too tender to hold Takasugi's interests for long, but he's indulging. A leg weighs between his legs before too long, not as a threat...something more considerate.]

Have I yet to satisfy you? [And now from the self-deprecating side of planet X. He's not talking cummies-exclusive..obviously.] I've disappointed you from our very first encounter.

[While softly running his nose against his forearm, testing the wound at the joint. Uhhh....]

[Accusing him of being indulgent is just a round about way of saying he's aware of what Takasugi wants. Which makes one of them. The observation itself isn't wrong - Takasugi takes voraciously, Takasugi demands his satisfaction, and Takasugi is relentless.

That is, when he knows what he wants.

In this case...

What would satisfy him? He didn't lead Solomon deeper into the cave to meet teeth with his blade. They're here to indulge, Solomon in his blood and Takasugi in the chance of dying the cave's pristine waters red.

But that's not enough.

When affection climbs his jaw to his cheekbone, Takasugi groans. Lips curled, he's plainly disgusted. Not by the tenderness, but by how his mouth falls open. How he's hoping, breath bated, for that kiss to travel to his lips.

It doesn't, and he's left grinding into that leg in an attempt to banish it, rather than accepting the 'consideration'.] Worried you won't be enough?

[For all his doubts in Solomon's ability to actually discern what pleases him, Takasugi doesn't share that concern. Solomon is a monstrous thing, and eventually, he will be satisfied.

The trail of blood flowing down his forearm is hot; his muscles twitch under its path. Solomon's lips are no different, but once he's clean, Takasugi appreciates the bite of cool air that grazes the saliva left behind.

He sighs, and tests Solomon's grip on his arm with a gentle tug.]

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[open mingle] from my laboratory in the castle east

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