[M] You say we're just friends but I swear when we're alone

POSTED: Fri Sep 28, 2018 6:02 pm

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.


(000)

Ooc

The scent of the exotic wine held heavy in her nose from the spills upon his clothing. She all but dragged him, a hand tight about his arm. The forests were a tricky place for those intoxicated, which they both were. Occasionally she stumbled, less than graceful.

This was a bad idea, truthfully -- bad decisions were the domain of the drunk though.

This was unsafe, a confrontation where ears might hear, where eyes might see. If he tried to speak she could cut him off with a sharp look and a hiss of breath. Tonight almost all would be gathered in the Feasting Hall.

Far enough away, they might be safe, the lowest part of Salsola was a spit of land hidden from everywhere else. Helena knew that the one abode was unoccupied. There was never reason for any to come down here.

The trees opened up onto a small stretch where only grass grew, and beyond the edges of the cliffs the ocean swelled calmly, the moon gleamed brightly. A cloudless sky, how fitting.

It was only then that she realized she was still carrying the half full bottle of wine she had snatched from the floor. She took an angry swallow, and stared out at the ocean, the calmness before a storm.

Helena Troy Lykoi

Salsola
The Quartermaster
User avatar
Jace
Luperci Conserje, Cocinero Mate to Calla and Till
♚· Reine de la Saleté ·♚

POSTED: Mon Oct 01, 2018 1:18 am

I'm down to just one thing
I'm starting to scare myself

Helena took him by the wrist and led Andrew away, lest he damage her social standing irreparably. The party continued well into the night, but a broken bottle and a plastered servant typically reflected poorly on a rising socialite. There were times on their walk when Andrew thought he saw anger in her eyes, shimmering in the moonlight. Somewhere veiled behind something else -- a mask she wore for everyone around.

She always wore masks, Andrew thought. He swore he thought he knew her, but for the first time Andrew found himself unsure. Every time he saw her dance with her mates, her friends -- even her ex-servant -- Andrew thought of their recent dance in the woods. What happened on that trade run, what it meant, or what he thought it meant, burned in his mind.

He was drunk. His thoughts were scattered. His emotions raw.

She led him to some place by the sea. An old house, unoccupied and off the beaten path. Andrew had not spoken on the way, for every time he tried, he found himself shushed. And so he stewed in his thoughts, tumbling into a darker place than he'd been before.

Helena turned toward the sea and tilted the bottle back. He could say nothing no longer. "Helena," Andrew spoke, voice cracked and broken. "What even am I to you?"

OOC text here!
We are what we are. Get in the goddamn car.
Salsola
Indentured Servant
User avatar
Ryan
Luperci I HAVE A BIG HEAD AND LITTLE ARMS

POSTED: Mon Oct 22, 2018 3:13 am

(000)

I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all.

The anger was vicious on her tongue, leaping from tooth to tooth and spilling to come bubbling through the gaps in her canines, to roll from her tongue and strike like shards of lightning. Truthfully the rage was not for him but for the green-eyed bitch who had dared to touch him so, to lay her filthy, pauper hands upon that which was Helena's.

It was within her muscles to turn and ask him if he were injured beneath his clothing, he lashed out at her first. The woman's spine straightened as though slapped.

She did turn then, and it was with aching, deliberate slowness. He was so very broken and bare, all the shattered, sharp-edged pieces of him strewn about. The toy of a child who was uncaring of their condition.

She brushed aside that thought with ruthlessness, he was hers, and only she was allowed to do these things to him. To unravel his threats so meticulously. Her fingers flexed, silhouetted by the moon's light. The impotent irritation filtered away, a drained pool.

She waited for an up-welling of... guilt.. or remorse... something maybe to show she might be repentant for her actions. Nothing came.

She drew in a deep breath, her chest expanding beneath the elegant dress. Despite everything, the tilt of her head and the twisting of a silken ear she was quite obviously not in control, slipping from the grasp of temperance. She almost smiled, almost laughed, it was a twitch of black lips. Too much wine swallowed up her restraint. Too much daring tore away her caution, obsession overruled sense.

She took the short distance between them into her strides, stopping close to him. Swaying almost imperceptibly. Somewhere she let the bottle fall from her hand into the grass.

"To me? You are... a lot of things, I zhink." She reached out and smoothed her palms against the lines of his cheeks, brushing back the ruffled fur. His eyes were too green, too vivid and they stole into her, taking a place that he should not belong and yet did irregardless. The timbre of her heart beat too loudly, making the pulse in her throat leap.

He smelled like the wine he had poured and the wine he had accidentally been doused with. She stepped even closer, released a shuddering breath that caressed his neck.

"Vous êtes ... inestimable. Pourquoi je ne sais pas.." Her voice was obscured, slurred with intoxication. Her fingers moved, tilting back until they wrapped about his neck and she pressed herself against him, uncaring she might ruin her dress with the sticky wine stains.

Her voice in whispers at his ear, "I am zhinking, you are being whatever I need you to be."

Helena Troy Lykoi

Salsola
The Quartermaster
User avatar
Jace
Luperci Conserje, Cocinero Mate to Calla and Till
♚· Reine de la Saleté ·♚

POSTED: Tue Oct 30, 2018 3:29 pm

I'm down to just one thing
I'm starting to scare myself

The bottle fell from her hand, landing in the sand to bury its face. The glass caught the light of the moon and gleamed like a precious jewel with value beyond measure. It was in that moment that she neared -- that Helena laid claim over her servant. Andrew's cheek was alight where her fingertips trailed. She pressed her body close, leaving no space between them and with arms draped around him she whispered sweet French into Andrew's neck in a moment of vulnerability.

The words would stick with Andrew, for while he knew not what they meant, in them lay the truth. For in the rippling slur of her voice, Andrew could feel Helena without her mask. Perhaps for the first time. They were words without immediate meaning, yet he would find himself repeating them in his mind, committing them to memory.

His hands found her hips and there they lingered. He breathed deep, drinking in the scent of shame and spilled wine. Then, in his ear, she whispered.

He was a fool. "I'm a toy then," Andrew said, briefly pulling for her words initially gave him rise, yet, there was a small part of him that was too turned on to care. She was so close, her body bare against his. "To be played with... for your amusement." He was a fool for believing he could be more. No, he was property to be used and thrown away. To be paraded about Salsola; the pet Infernian. Yet, oddly enough, it made him want her more.

Andrew shut his eyes and kissed her then, pushing away the empty hopelessness that bloomed in his chest.

OOC text here!
Last edited by Andrew Winthrop on Thu Dec 06, 2018 6:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
We are what we are. Get in the goddamn car.
Salsola
Indentured Servant
User avatar
Ryan
Luperci I HAVE A BIG HEAD AND LITTLE ARMS

POSTED: Thu Nov 08, 2018 2:33 am

(000)

ooc

She was too deep in the inebriation to realise her mistakes, to even care that she was making them. Tilting her hand had never been a part of her design and yet she dropped those played cards all across the floor of their attraction. Whether she let them go in accidental fumbling or purposefully scattered them was a reason that she could not grasp, not in the state she had acquired.

It was too hard to keep aching, itching hands to herself, she had never been predisposed to denying herself the pleasures life had to offer, whether they were bartered for or stolen, she would have them all. She might rebuild herself something new from the ill-used shards of him, or she could piece him back together in the same way and see how he crumbled again.

He stiffened, not appreciating her reasoning and Helena found she did not care for him pulling away from her. He was not the one in control, not this time. She didn't like him cold and resisting. Helena got what she wanted, always.

Before she could answer his accusations, he kissed her. It was angry and harsh, she could feel those raw edges of him. How he must hurt.

She wanted to soothe, the clockwork trickery still ticking its devious hands in the back of her mind. To soothe was to nurture the writhing devotion. Intoxication made it difficult to properly sort out her approach.

She pulled away from his kiss, breathing heavily now, she could feel his heart beating against her chest. It was hard to think. Her fingers trailed lines through his fur, stroking the taut shoulder muscles,

"A toy? Non." Helena spoke with breathy, distracted words. She kissed the corner of his mouth and then the span of his cheek. She peppered the side of his face and neck with small butterfly kisses, entirely preoccupied with her given task for long moments. They were sweet, simple things.

She could feel him, ready and willing against her stomach despite his bitter words. That part of him was certainly willing to be played with for her own amusement. A hand wormed its way between them and she stroked him with light fingertips through the fabric of his trousers.

"You cannot be saying you do not enjoy zhis." She squeezed, making a small noise in the back of her throat as he throbbed.

Helena Troy Lykoi

Salsola
The Quartermaster
User avatar
Jace
Luperci Conserje, Cocinero Mate to Calla and Till
♚· Reine de la Saleté ·♚

POSTED: Thu Dec 06, 2018 7:30 pm

I'm down to just one thing
I'm starting to scare myself

She pulled away and Andrew found himself drawn further into her gravity, hopeless and helpless to her demands. She protested his accusation, and though he wished he could believe the sweet words she whispered in his ear, he couldn't bring himself to do so. Drunk and insubordinate, Andrew vied for what little control over his life he had left -- that last vestige of free will, of himself, before it slipped away into nothing.

A shadow. A shell.

Inside, he fought. He fought and lost. She was too great for him, or rather, he too weak -- broken down by loss and blackberry wine. She showered him with the affection he so desired, that he so coveted as she danced with the others in the feasting hall. He was a jealous creature, flush with envy. She brought out the worst in him, awakening long dormant demons that never saw the light of day.

Her hand found him then and he played into her touch, grinding his hips slowly into her sweet caress. She threatened to make a liar of him. Their tryst, he did enjoy. Yet to admit it... to speak the words, he couldn't yet do it. He gave no answer but a short and needy moan.

He gave in.

OOC text here!
We are what we are. Get in the goddamn car.
Salsola
Indentured Servant
User avatar
Ryan
Luperci I HAVE A BIG HEAD AND LITTLE ARMS

POSTED: Sun Dec 16, 2018 5:56 am

(000)

and I'm trying, trying, trying

She blinked away those last encompassing wisps of her anger. A faintly singing siren still strummed strains below the silkiness of her hair, a gentle warning that questioned what she was doing. That said everything would come crashing down about her if only one pair of searching eyes found them, hidden away. They continued to chime and she continued to ignore them entirely.

Her fingers traced along sharp lines. The jut of a shoulder, the arch of his neck with its rapid pulsing beat. Could she steal away those things that he was made of and make them her own.

Things spiraled away from her control, she failed to grasp them back, they danced beyond her reach. Helena grew to disregard this too, treading into territory too dangerous to describe - she lived for danger. Its heady fumes lit her up from the inside out.

The crimes of it mounted, piling atop one another. The eyes of the Kingdom would find them, eventually, someday in a far off future. Maybe

She found she was willing to risk a whole lot on the fragile strand of maybe.

Adrenalin from the confrontation still coursed in her blood, wrapping together with lust to steal away her breath. She drew the jealousy from him, breathing it in as a palatable caress in her nares. It had always been so, she inspired either devotion or hatred, there was no in-between. She wanted all of his devotion, she owned his physical body, but could she own his soul?

Butterfly kisses would only take her so far.

He refused to speak with words, Helena exhaled with the hints of a soft growl upon her tongue. It was no matter. She listened instead to his body, the quiver of flesh and how the shiver of fur rippled curiously. In this, there were no lies he could tell to her.

His insubordination would be punished for, in small ways that would occur in the morning and the ours that stretched after. When the wine no longer pulled at her senses and continued to cast these terrible ideas with a sun's light.

Now, here in this moment, she was as she portrayed herself. Even as the mask was fractured and broken. Helena was the giver of pleasure and poppy tea and all the sweet words that were whispered in seclusion, when they eyes were closed.

She touched and caressed, and allowed her tongue to slide along the curve of his throat, and planted a request there against the scattered locks of raven hair.

"S'il vous plaît..."

Helena Troy Lykoi

Salsola
The Quartermaster
User avatar
Jace
Luperci Conserje, Cocinero Mate to Calla and Till
♚· Reine de la Saleté ·♚

POSTED: Mon Dec 17, 2018 5:04 pm

I'm down to just one thing
I'm starting to scare myself

So easily she toyed with his emotions, twisting Andrew's stomach into hard, unyielding knots. He was moth, and she -- she was the bugzapper hanging from the gutter of a Kentucky double-wide, coaxing him into her all consuming light with whispered promises and endless, unnatural beauty. A ruiner. A succubus, demanding dominion over the hearts of mortal men. Andrew was weak, and he gave in to her whims with knees bucking and eyes shut.

From his lips blossomed a strangled cry. She too pleaded with whispered French in Andrew's ear, unable to deny her most carnal desires. She knew just the buttons to push. Just where to touch. Just what to say.

Far away were the events of the party, yet the jealousy remained. He let it be his fuel, filling him with the urge to claim the woman he couldn't have. Not truly. Superficially, maybe, but it was enough for now. Enough to make him feel like someone real. Someone who mattered.

She wore such a fine dress. Bright red, it drew many an eye at the reception. It would be a shame to ruin such nice things, so drunk as Andrew was, he was careful as he pushed the silken fabric up enough to slip his hand beneath the hem of her dress. He gave her what she wanted, what she begged for. A single finger teased, then two slipped inside, curling within her as his left cupped her cheek.

OOC text here!
We are what we are. Get in the goddamn car.
Salsola
Indentured Servant
User avatar
Ryan
Luperci I HAVE A BIG HEAD AND LITTLE ARMS

POSTED: Tue Dec 18, 2018 2:52 am

(000)

and I'm trying, trying, trying

It was soon, too soon and she hazily remembered different rendez-vous, winter's frost in the air, the sweet scent of summer. It twisted about inside of her head, squirming into thoughts best left alone. She wrapped her power around him, a seductive fog to lead astray the careless. A snake to encircle trapped prey in voracious coils.

His hands were hot through the fabric of her dress, and resentment bloomed for the barrier, she wanted more than she was given. She was a dangerous woman, pulling the threads with impunity. He tripped those deep desires, the instinctual urges to chase and hunt. To exercise her dominance.

A lazy ear twisted, catching his cry and folding it away. For later, for when she would sit in sobriety and reflect upon these moments, the firelight catching deep in her eyes.

Experience granted her knowledge, she knew how to touch and when to be bold, when to shrink in apparent shyness. One-handed she unbuttoned the wooden fastenings to his pants and burrowed her way inside to take him in hand, skin to skin, the hiss of breath spilling between her teeth.

She though of another dress, shredded upon green grass beneath a tall, rustling tree. A white shirt that gaped down its center, torn and useless.

She hummed her appreciation that he took care with this one, an expensive luxury that had cost a pretty penny. It had been most cruelly modeled for him before her purchase, and the burning gleam in his green eyes had been worth it, so very worth it. Delicious apprehension grew in the slow seconds that his hand slid upwards, ever upwards.

The mists inside grew, the memory blurring together, too much wine - or not enough. Her lips parted and a delicate gasp of exultation passed them, losing itself in his tendrils of hair. The play of his fingers was maddening, adding to the mindlessness of drunken fervor.

Unlike the freedom of their first implosive tryst, this would need near silence, hushed voices in the darkness. Voices traveled far in the woods, such sounds would bring with them the eyes to prey upon their solitude.

"S'il vous plaît..." She whispered to him again, timbre rising high, pleading.

He kept on breaking all of her carefully tailored masks, the faces she presented to the world. The gaps between each replacement widened each time by mere degrees, but it was enough. The broken pieces laid at their feet like shattered pottery. She gasped again, louder, claws digging into his fur.

The thorny thistles of her tiara caught, clinging against his braided hair and her elegant ringlets. She moved to pull her head away and the tinge of pain slithered straight down her spine. The breath in her throat stuttered and bubbled into a quiet laughing moan.

Reluctantly she pulled her hand away from her tormenting caresses of him, and gently extracted the pricking pain from both their hair. Even as she dropped it, she was already forgetting it, focusing back upon him and the arousal that thrummed thickly in the air. It was harder and harder to breathe in the cloying hunger.

Helena Troy Lykoi

Salsola
The Quartermaster
User avatar
Jace
Luperci Conserje, Cocinero Mate to Calla and Till
♚· Reine de la Saleté ·♚

POSTED: Tue Dec 18, 2018 4:55 pm

I'm down to just one thing
I'm starting to scare myself

Terracotta masks, so cracked and worn. Briefly, Andrew thought he saw the woman underneath; Gods above, how bright she shined. Did she tire? Did she grow weary of playing pretend? Yet, there were layers under layers that Andrew had yet to see. Mysterious and hidden, he had only just begun to peel them back.

He was putty in her hand. Won over as easy as she unclasped the button of his pants. She coaxed a sigh from him then, yet his attentions were not diverted. His purpose was to please her -- and please her he would.

Once more, she whispered in his ear. A pleading, needly cry. He pushed further with his fingers in reply, knuckle deep they curled and called. Emboldened by the alcohol, Andrew goaded his mistress. "Yeah?" he whispered. The pungent scent of blackberry wine was heavy his breath. A cloying sweetness.

Atop her head, her crown of thorns slipped and caught his braid. It pulled and the pain was shared. Helena withdrew her hand and Andrew found himself jealous of her touch and trembling in its absence. He withdrew his fingers and thumbed at his trousers, pulling them back up to his waist so they would not slip. She tossed her crown away and Andrew took his mistress by the wrist and pulled her into the cabin by the sea.

OOC text here!
We are what we are. Get in the goddamn car.
Salsola
Indentured Servant
User avatar
Ryan
Luperci I HAVE A BIG HEAD AND LITTLE ARMS

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