[open] channeling angels in a new age, now.

[priorly]

Who: Prior Walter (priorly) & you??
What: Catch all logs for October!
When: October!
Where: various
Warning(s): language, likely mention of terminal illness (AIDS). Adult themes?
Notes: Please PM me if you'd like a starter, or feel free to wildcard me anytime.

Comments

[vorrutyer]

But size isn't everything, of course.

[priorly]

I'm not a queen in that department, no.

[vorrutyer]

So tantalize me with that tongue of yours. Lavish on my yearning, trembling ears the sweet kiss of your voice. Leave me gasping and spent with the rough and thrilling texture of your storytelling.

[priorly]

[Prior's eyes widen.]

No point, I think I just came.

[If only It were that easy, etc, but good grief, Byerly.]

[vorrutyer]

[ By laughs, then kisses his hand and presses that hand to Prior's cheek. ]

Spoiling sweet maidens has always been amongst my favorite pastimes.

[priorly]

[Prior makes a vaguely repulsed noise at the insinuation, but he's laughing.]

There was one wall. Macy's men's room, third floor. I don't think the store security had the first idea what to do, but it's hardly my fault. They make the stalls so flimsy there.

[vorrutyer]

[ A little quirk of his eyebrow. ]

You met fellows in a restroom?

[priorly]

If it was too cold for the park?

[Ye - es?]

[vorrutyer]

Not - oh - parties?

[priorly]

Sure, parties too. Though that often ended up in the restroom. [He rests his chin in his hand.] Are you shocked? I'm only talking about meeting for sex, not booking assignations by the urinals to plan a beautiful future together. Fifteen minutes and you'd never see them again.

[vorrutyer]

Not shocked, no. It simply seems... [ Hm. ] Inelegant.

[priorly]

It's sex. [A little frown.] Is all yours elegant?

[vorrutyer]

Well, think about who I am, Prior. Do you think I have ever not been elegant?

[priorly]

God, I hope so. I think I'd like to see. [More slips in the facade, not specifically - well. Prior's unsure of the impression left by these stories, though, a little wrongfooted.] I'm sorry if it's terribly unromantic. It's just how things are done. A lot of people aren't - can't - look for relationships, but you can always find something anonymous and quick. It's not how I met Louis. Though, when he and I finally fell into monogamy we were quite the novelty among our friends.

[vorrutyer]

[ A little reflectively: ]

Perhaps the issue. When you're High Vor, nothing you do can ever be anonymous.

[ Ah, well. He shakes his head just a bit, then says: ]

I can understand why they were shocked, though. Monogamy, eh? Heavens, what a curse.

[priorly]

You'd be surprised at how anonymous some people could be. [A little quieter.] When everyone's ashamed, no one talks. That's the whole trick.

[A ny way, before the subject depresses him-]

I'd thought maybe when I was old and grey I'd settle down with someone. Wear matching leisurewear. Own plants. I had relationships, but never - it takes time, to let something like that happen, and it's hard to give one person time when there's always someone else. If I'd ever felt tied down I don't think I'd have stayed. But he... kept me up all night. Talking. And we had incredible, totally inelegant sex. And after a while we just. I don't know, stopped bothering with the rest. The rest became a bother, more than an attraction. Maybe that was it.

[vorrutyer]

[ By makes a put-upon groaning noise. ]

Dear God, that was not an invitation to start getting all sentimental over your monogamy. I want salacious details, not quotidian ones.

[priorly]

Well I gave you those and you clutched for your pearls, what's a girl to do?

[And it wasn't quotidian for him. Or, if it was, there was something wonderful about that being quotidian, for a time. He can't help if the better memories aren't fully destroyed by their bad end.]

Anyway, it scarcely matters. Monogamy is dead.

[A fingertip slices across his throat only to confirm.]

Nothing so sentimental as examining a corpse.

[vorrutyer]

Examining a corpse can be exceedingly sentimental, dear Prior.

[priorly]

As I said. But. [Murderous finger now raised.] The mourning period's over. I'm done. That little shitbag doesn't deserve my sentimentality.

[vorrutyer]

[ Hm. The look he darts over isn't entirely convinced, but his voice is mild and light. ]

I'll refrain from burning a death-offering, then.

[priorly]

[For his part Prior can convince himself perfectly well until he's alone.]

Offering to who?

[vorrutyer]

To the relationship, of course. And to your sentimentality, dead and buried.

[priorly]

Oh, a ceremonial scattering to the winds? Nothing to burn. He took his clothes while I was in hospital, along with everything else his and things he'd forgotten were mine. I don't have love letters, or a lock of his hair.

[vorrutyer]

No, no.

[ He waves his fingers. ]

That's not how death-offerings work. It'd hardly be an offering if it already belonged to them, would it? You sacrifice something of your own.