[open mingle] from my laboratory in the castle east

[gekkajuu]

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!

Comments

[shikomizue]

[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.]

[semblant]

[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.]

[shikomizue]

[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.]

[semblant]

[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.]

[shikomizue]

[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.]

[semblant]

[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.

[shikomizue]

[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.]

[semblant]

[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....]

[shikomizue]

[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.]