[AW+] [m] love fool
WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised. There is really a lot of smut.
As the excitement of the party wore down, the chorus of the crowd now quieted down to a gentle hum of cordial chatter, Ceridwen found herself back in the main hall. She mingled among the guests, delightfully dizzy, and rather satisfied that she had not missed a single opportunity for anything. Drugs had been sampled and delivered, new acquaintances had been made, strange flesh tasted; there was certainly nothing more that she was left wanting. Nonetheless, a hunger carved her inside, gnawing away until, by the time the moon began to creep on the western horizon, she could stand it no longer. Feeling faint, she wandered back towards the tables still laden with food and drink, grabbing herself a chicken leg to snack on.

It was not enough, however to satiate her hunger. As she tore away at the meat, she meandered among the tables, scheming to herself with a fervor. By the time a proper idea had been conceived, she was already stripping the bones of the remaining cartilage, before inconspicuously slipping the bone into a camouflaged pocket in her dress—slightly undone and worse for wear as the night drew closer to conclusion.

She recalled a moment that occurred earlier that day, as she patently entertained her brother Rafael, as he prattled on about all the plans he had for the masquerade. Most of them were rather lewd in nature, and Ceridwen took virtually none of them seriously. After all, her brother was the type to scheme plans of grandeur without any intention behind them. She hoped that this one instance, however, the eldest Armistice son would do good on his word. The surface of her skin prickling with excitement, she crossed the hall, and exited, making her way towards the nearly completely vacant hotel. Even the crisp, evening breeze was not enough to fan the heat between her legs, and she was painfully aware of the moisture that crept down her thighs.

Just as the entrance of the derelict hotel came into view, she noticed a stranger slip inside, careful not to draw attention to themselves as they did so. It seemed that for once, Rafael had delivered. Forcing herself not to run, she entered minutes after the last Luperci, finding herself in the dark foyer of the former pack residence. No longer a central hub for the pack, no one had bothered to light the oil candles, or keep the building maintained. Anything worthwhile that remained was likely to be scavenged and re-purposed over the following weeks. Some walls had collapsed, and it was no longer advised to ascend to the upper floors, but occasionally, some of the better maintained rooms on the main level would still be used for various functions. The one that Rafael had likely commandeered, was no exception.

All she had to do was follow the faint musk of bodily fluids that hung, barely detectable, in the air. Once or twice, she thought about abandoning the plan entirely, but a little whimper, or the scraping of claws along wood, would quickly renew her interest. Finally, she found what she was looking for, turning the brass knob of the door and pushing against the solid mahogany with an uncharacteristic tenderness. Her breath caught in her throat.

Bodies, obscured by the darkness of the night and the shadows cast by the moon peering through the windows, writhed before her. She could not determine who was who, yet felt comfortable knowing that she was granted the same anonymity. Her eyelids became heavy, and she surveyed the incomprehensible shapes with a mixture of lust and anticipation. Without looking away, she slowly removed her costume, and set it aside. No longer dampened by fabric, the scent of her heat wafted freely. An electric buzz seemed to rip through the air as Ceridwen crossed an arm over her chest, somewhat bashfully, and stepped towards the orgy. [648]
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He was drunk. Beyond drunk really. Drunker than he'd ever been in his life, and he'd been incredibly drunk in the past. And high! My god, he was high! Higher than the clouds, than the moon, than the stars! He'd already thrown up several times, but naturally, that had not stopped the Dane from drinking more and more and smoking more and more. What good was a party if he couldn't let completely loose. With copious amounts of alcohol came the searing heat, an annoying side effect that had caused him to throw off his clothing, accessories and party garments quite happily. It had still not been enough and he'd left, an action he intended to be momentary, the hotel for fresh air. But there was a scent on the wind that drew him away from the lively hotel and towards the abandoned one not far away.

The scent grew even thicker as he entered it, and other things grew too. Biological things, for the cogs in the feral part of his mind, could not stop ticking furiously. He was a slave to a baser instinct at the end of the day, a dog running to the whistle of its master. He entered the den of iniquity alongside a packmate who's name escaped him. Maybe he'd never bothered to learn it. There were so many faces in the Court and Mads imagined that he hadn't managed to meet nearly half of them. He had so much to juggle after all. Kids. Animals. Moon Moon.

She smelt so enticing, and despite her seemingly gingerly attitude, the swarthy man could sense she wouldn't take much encouragement. A dark hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her in. 'Need a warm-up partner?' he offered in his thick accent.
[Image: DglIceh.png]

Hold me closer
Tony Danza

The light of the fires trailed in lines. Brilliant and bright -- swirling in a dazzling and startling array. Motion blurred and the world breathed like a lumbering beast. Perfectly organic, and unsettling as hell. The drugs he'd imbibed were stronger than he had yet taken. They ensnared his senses in a vice. Delirium.

Delirium and fear.

Had the party ended? He felt the cool touch of snow against the pads of his paws. Outside. He realized he was outside. The questions ran together in his mind in scattershot. How did he get here? Where was the great hall? Where was Honrin. Where the fuck was Mask 2: Electric Boogaloo? Oh God. He touched his face. Not there. Ceridwen would be pissed. An inkling of panic peppered the Cavalier's breath. What now?

He wandered, staggering through the snow in a struggle to stay upright. He pulled his jacket tight to shield him from the bitter cold wind. He saw no one in his wanderings, save for empty street and sky. Yet, there was a scent; alluring like a siren-song, but decidedly familiar. Fives lady? It was Ceridwen, but different, not that Risa could put his finger on it. He was compelled to follow her trail as if guided by an invisible hand.

She was a friend. She would help him. She could get him home. He followed her trail into a hotel and the scent grew stronger. So did it's pull. Mindless, Risa followed with abandon, hand trailing along peeling wallpaper walls that seemed to twist and stretch. From a distant room, he heard sounds of pleasure, grunting, and ghostly wails. He saw her then, at the end of the hall just before she passed into the room.

He reached out to touch her, though she was far out of reach on the other side of the hallway. "Fivessss," he whispered before trailing after her. As he drew near, the sounds grew louder, echoing through the hall. The scent of musk was strong. Then, he reached the threshold.

He peered around the corner and saw the beast. A writhing mass. Bodies blurred together into one great whole. It claimed her. Ceridwen was gone, assimilated. Moving with the beast. He could not save her. Terror stricken, Risa ran. He covered his mouth lest he make a sound.

In the snow outside, the lights went out. Face first, Risa fell into the snow beside a pool of his own vomit.


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When the Queen had left him to wallow in drunken misery Tora had ended up lying on the pile of fur for only a few minutes before getting restless again. Alcohol was still coursing through his bloods, his mind still foggy from way too many drinks. He wasn't done partying yet, no matter what his Reine said. Under normal circumstances he would've obeyed her word as law, but tonight certainly wasn't normal. He had already thrown caution to the wind, what harm could there be in going over and having a little more fun? Tora put his mask back on and reassembled his costume, applying some more ash to his arms to whiten his fur before opening the door and stepping back out into the cool night air.

He followed the sounds of raucous laughter and music and the still burning torches, drawn to them like a moth to campfire. His feet padded quietly against the path, bringing him closer and closer to his goal. He had a committed a grievous sin by leaving the party before it was over, and he needed to be baptized once again in the drinking and flirting and dancing his church offered. Tora drifted back in and immediately set his sights on the table of drinks, making up for lost time by rapidly double fisting whatever smelled strongest. Soon he was properly drunk again, the oncoming hangover pushed off for the time being by the influx of more alcohol.

He stayed at the table for a while, drinking until a certain scent caught his nose. He recognized it immediate, ears (as well as a different organ) pricking up as he drawn towards it. He followed the scent until he heard whimpering and moans. But, like the good kind. Tora followed behind two of his packmates, dragged along by his basest of urges like a dog on a leash. He didn't resist, he couldn't resist, eyes feasting on the sight of so many intertwined bodies writhing and pulsing in time with one another.

One of the packmates had already "propositioned" the other, and Tora still had enough common sense not to intrude. For now he simply leaned back at the wall, shrugging off his cloak to exposed his well-built, muscled frame. The mask he kept on, he was still at a masquerade after all~

"I must've died tonight." he thought to himself, stripping off his pants and tossing them aside. That was the only explanation. He must've died in the fight against the unwanted guest and gone to some type of erotic paradise where beautiful angels existed only to bask in the pleasure of each other's bodies.

Tora was glad he was dead.

WC: 582

With everything that had gone wrong tonight, Tessa wanted nothing more than to just go to bed. First she had to deal with her vomit covered dress, and for that, all she did was take it off and stick it in the snow outside her house. She would come back to that in the morning. It was dark and she did not feel like wandering around the pack at night. Unfortunately, as she put it down, she felt something stuck to it and realized that she managed to have a piece of recovered jewelry stuck to the fabric.

Sighing, Tessa figured she should probably head back and hand it over. She did not want to be accused of stealing it since she had already turned in quite a bit of other jewelry. That meant finding another dress to put on, and luckily she had the one that she wore fairly often. It was nothing like the dress that had been ruined tonight; it was much more plain and functional, but it was better than going back in there wearing nothing. She left her own jewelry home, along with her mask as she set off again wishing that it was not so darn cold.

When she arrived at the hotel, a strange sound caught her attention. With a frown, she looked down the hallway. As she took a step in that direction, she ended up having to sidestep a white canine who seemed to be in a bit of a hurry to get outside. He was not someone she recognized, so he was probably from one of the other packs. It was difficult for her to tell by scent at this point because the smell of alcohol was so strong around the place. Maybe he had been spooked by whatever made the sounds she kept hearing?

Still frowning, Tessa decided that he was on his own and that she did not need to go check on him to make sure that he was alright. Instead, she headed down the hallway and the sounds got louder until she finally came to the right doorway, where she stopped at the threshold.

For a moment, Tessa only stared blanking, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Her mouth dropped open then, her eyes wide as saucers as she found herself frozen in place, hands clenched into fists. No matter how much she wanted to look away, she just... could not make her feet move. How...? what...? Surely Kalypso and Paloma did not know this was going on, right? They would never allow something like this... Unless they were in there, part of what appeared to be a writhing, undulating mass of canines.

That fresh wave of horror finally snapped Tessa out of her shocked daze. Nope. She did not need to see either of the pack leaders participating in something like this. This was part of why she did not drink. She was afraid of doing something she would regret later, and she would most certainly regret participating in... that. Tessa guessed that many of the participants would as well.

As they should for participating in something so inappropriate. So disgusting. Shameful!

Tessa was done with tonight. She was so, so done. Finding someone to hand off the found bracelet to could wait until the morning. Right now she was going directly to bed. Alone.

With that, she turned turned her nose up and spun right back around and marched out of the hotel.
The room was warm, filled with bodies familiar and foreign. She could feel a rough palm slide along her waist, the sudden touch sending a chill down her spine. Before she could answer, the door swung open behind her again, and someone entered or exited. Her attention returned to her newest partner, a coy smile just barely tweaking the corners of her mouth. He was vaguely familiar, a pack mate she knew mostly in passing. If she could recall, and she wasn't sure if she could, she had seen him before, with pups, with livestock, though no particular event came to mind. She felt a little silly, jumping right in with someone hardly more than a stranger, but she had already been drawn in by the trill of it.

As she was pulled in, she allowed her hip bones to press into his, wetting her lips slightly as she tilted her head. She lifted her arms, draping them lightly over the Dane's shoulders, locking eyes for just a moment. "I think I do." She returned coyly, taking a half step back (and accidentally bumping into whoever had entered the room next), giving herself room to run her fingers down his chest. From the gold jewelry glinting in the moonlight, her gaze traveled down, along his strong jawline, and down the side of his neck where she leaned into in order to nibble the base of his throat. She waved her tail slowly, the tip curling with anticipation. Her touch turned to his hips, and then to what ever clothing she needed to tear away in order to win the prize, to savour the taste of another part of Mads Ibsen.

Even before she made it to her knees, her mind raced with a thousand ideas, each one more delightfully sinful than the next. It was the perfect way to bond, to end the party that had been so meticulously put together. It had broken down, those in the room going at each other like animals who lived by the three basic rules: feed, fight, fuck. Everything seemed to run cohesively. Either that, or she felt as if she had found exactly the right place, as had everyone else, so there was no need to give any thought to what lay beyond the mass of writhing bodies, the steamy room that smelled of sweat and sex, and the intoxicating perfume of fertility, that seemed to encourage them all to push a little further than usual, dive a little deeper than they normally would have.
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