TDM 06

[goldmods]

【 Thank you for choosing the Golden Peacock, 5-star resort and casino. You are currently registered as a WILDCARD in our system.

On behalf of the house and resort, we would like to advise all Game 52 players to exercise caution around the Golden Peacock for the next few weeks. The veil between 'what is' and 'what has been' grows thin and the threads of fate have tangled in unexpected ways. We are currently observing how these two phenomena behave when they occur simultaneously and act in concert.

We advise that all guests monitor their physical states until the veil thickens once again and the threads of fate return to running parallel. If you find yourself undergoing any strange transformations, please report to the Broken Wing clinic for observation. We will do our utmost to make sure you are comfortable during this time.

You may also notice other strange phenomena around the Golden Peacock while the veil is thin. Please continue to exercise caution. New wayward spirits have joined us during this time. While spirits are crossing, it is possible for guests to get swept along into the ghostly realm.

As always, please let us know if there is anything we can do to improve your stay. 】

HEADS

BASEMENT SUITES

SQUEEZING IN

► Thanks to a classic move called “overbooking,” new arrivals are being checked in to the rooms that have the most overall vacancies — the basement suites. Despite their small size and narrow twin beds, characters are stuffed up to three in a room. Don’t worry, that’s why the staff have thoughtfully removed the doors of every new arrival's room. It's easier to stuff inside that way, isn't it? More space for everyone!

► Characters still wake up naked save for a robe, as is standard for the Golden Peacock. This round’s robes are warm autumnal plaids made of thick flannel to help keep warm through the supernatural chill. Some of these robes are more elaborate than others, with seasonal patterns like apples or pumpkins.

► Existing characters currently living in a basement suite may find one or two new arrivals taking up residence in their room. The staff appreciate your understanding and willingness to share during this influx of new guests and spike of supernatural activity! There's safety in numbers. It's to everyone's benefit, really.

ICY HALLWAYS

► The normally dirty and forgotten hallways of the basement suites are in even worse shape than usual. Yellow stains ripple down the walls, the floor is coated in dust, and there are suspicious globs of something in the corners. Their standard chilly temperature has taken a sharp plunge to freezing. Guests without any resistance to cold will find it challenging to walk around the hallways without bundling up. For those that don't have the proper clothing, the staff suggest sharing some body heat and fucking to make do. They probably shouldn't have removed all those room doors, huh...

► Don't even talk about going out and about without shoes! Stepping in one of those gloopy puddles may unexpectedly trigger a fever or other similar illness. As time passes and the supernatural grows stronger, these goopy masses will crawl the walls and drip from the ceiling. As they grow stronger, so will the physical reaction to touching them. Guests may experience any of the CLUBS effects when the sludge is especially potent.

► When walking in any of the basement suite hallways, characters may hear the ghostly whispers from the maintenance levels. They are stronger than usual and can be heard on even the rank 3 and rank 4 floors. What's more, these whispers, if directed at a particular guest, can be heard by everyone in the vicinity. Whispers may provoke, accuse, and guilt characters by targeting their insecurities or regrets. These whispers will slowly turn to screams the closer the date creeps toward October 31st.

COMMUNAL BATHROOM GHOULS

► The ghouls in particular start becoming audacious as supernatural influence strengthens. A pesky group of water ghouls have marked the basement communal bathroom as their territory. Characters who seem particularly vulnerable or aren't paying attention to their surroundings may find themselves cornered by water ghouls in the showers. The ghouls are relentless, pushing and shoving and pulling hair for shits and giggles. Those on the lower end of the rank scale will suffer the worst harassment, and they may even go out of their way to harass wildcards and 2s.

► Some especially raunchy water ghouls have taken to haunting the toilets, showers, and baths. The toilet ghouls have especially long tongues, which they stick out to get a lick of some unsuspecting ass. The bath ghouls, the most attractive of the lot, pretend to be guests and try to lure new arrivals and low ranks into a clandestine affair. The shower ghouls hide and outstretch their arms to shamelessly grab and squeeze whatever their grubby claws can touch.

► Despite the bravado, these water ghouls are not very strong and can be easily dealt with. They will run if someone overpowers them. They will flinch and hide if someone screams too loudly. And, most importantly, they're absolutely terrified of dry towels. They're supposed to be wet, damn it! Don't threaten them with being dry. Aiming a hair dryer at them is enough to get them curled on the ground in agony.

TAILS

BROKEN WING CLINIC

THE MORGUE

► Did we mention that we had some overbooking? Some unfortunate new arrivals won't be waking up in the basement suites with their peers. These guests, with a stroke of bad luck, will find themselves waking up in the morgue of the Broken Wing clinic. The morgue has never seen a real dead body before — so when waking up on morgue tray sliders, they thankfully won't be assaulted by any rancid smells.

► New arrivals waking up in the morgue will be covered with a white sheet. They will also be dressed in a standard white hospital gown, each of their big toes tagged with a cause of death. These causes of death, however, all seem to be a bit unusual. They range from 【 DIED AFTER SIX CONSECUTIVE ORGASMS, ABSOLUTE KING 】 to 【 DIED OF LITERAL EMBARRASSMENT, WHAT A DORK 】... it's not like the doctor expected you to see them!

► Some especially unlucky guests will find that the door to their tray slider is locked. The keys to all of the tray sliders, as well as several mortuary tools, are available around the room for those that are kind enough to lend these poor souls a helping hand! It's just a matter of finding them. The desk and tool areas of the morgue are shockingly messy, as if the doctors and nurses left in a rush. Wonder why that is?

ABANDONED CLINIC

► Exploration of the clinic will yield some interesting results. Despite reception advising that those affected by the veil thinning should report to the clinic for observation, Broken Wing is completely void of any medical staff. The hallways are in ruin. Cabinets with medical files are empty. The beds have no patients. Even the air is musty. Broken Wing appears to have been abandoned for a long time.

► A small stroke of good luck — even if the doctors are gone, medical and general supplies can still be found scattered throughout the clinic. Guests can utilize staff clothing if they don't want to run around in those open-back hospital gowns. Over the counter medicines and bandages are available. Guests that may have had their eye on the harder prescription stuff can take this opportunity to scrounge through the clinic's pharmacy, now that there is no pharmacist to guard the goods.

► As exciting as a clinic free for all is, guests should be careful...

WALKING UNDEAD

Loud noises echo from the clinic's basement. Thud, thud, thud — heavy footsteps resound through the otherwise eerie silence. Muffled voices come in strange breaks, as if the speakers are having difficulty moving their mouths. Slowly, from around the corners and up the stairs, a group of long-standing guests drag their bodies awkwardly toward the sounds and warmth of any "living" guests in the clinic. Blue lips gape. Their skin is waxy and strange. They stare with red and yellow eyes. Then, slowly, they begin to drag their bodies forward...

► Zombified long-standing guests have been lurking in the clinic. These zombies are hungry for flesh in all meanings of the word. Some want one, some want the other, and some want both. Though they move slowly and have little control over their dead appendages, they are relentless, and will chase any non-zombie guests through the clinic.

► However, these zombies will not leave Broken Wing. Leaving the clinic is akin to a safe getaway. Those that want to fight will find that these zombies are fairly traditional: destroying their heads will kill them.

► A bite or scratch from a zombie is a potent aphrodisiac. The guest that is bitten or scratched will similarly begin to hunger for flesh... mostly in the horny way, but if you want to play it in the hungry way, we support you. Guests will not transform into zombies from a bite or scratch. The aphrodisiac will continue to burn through their system until sexual satisfaction is achieved. Going without "the cure" with result in fever, hallucinations, chills, muscle pain, and other extremely uncomfortable symptoms.

MAIN LOBBY

THE VEIL THINS

A STRANGE MOON & ENDLESS NIGHT

► Darkness pervades the main lobby despite clocks claiming that morning hours have come. The grand chandeliers and fixtures are not working, so staff hurry to light lanterns around the central hub and connecting hallways. A strange full moon floats in the center of the lobby. This moon hovers silently, always staying close to the high ceiling, and never changes its phase even when passing days begin accumulating.

► Those that bask in the pale light of the moon for too long may begin to feel an itch of strangeness... this itch will go away once farther from the moon. Once a guest basks in the moonlight, they might feel the overwhelming urge to continue doing so. It's inexplicable how this gentle moonlight feels like it can help them become their true self.

► An endless night will continue to accompany the moon. This night covers the entire main lobby, front reception, the elevator bank, and several hallways that deposit into the lobby. While the endless night is in play, all affected areas will feel the cool breeze and unique weight of a genuine deep night. Unlike the weather and time simulations offered in the garden and vale, this night is poignantly real despite happening indoors.

THE ROOKERY SETTLES DOWN

The Rookery, the elusive wandering night market, settles down beneath the moon in the main lobby. Construction of wooden stalls takes no time at all, offering a proper shopping experience compared to their usual tents and makeshift sheets. The sellers of the Rookery are more lively than usual, their ghostly faces illuminated by the light of the moon. They aggressively boast about their wares and try to hook customers over to their booths.

► Worthwhile treasures to be found in the Rookery. Truly useful items worth haggling for.

WOODEN MASKS: Charmed wooden masks that allow the wearer to blend in seamlessly with the supernatural. Come in fox, wolf, and tanuki styles.

MAGIC TALISMANS: An assortment of talismans with elemental capabilities. A snap of fire, a dash of light, a flash of ice, and so on. Useful in a pinch.

WARDING INCENSE: A lovely scent of Jasmine that keeps the ghosts and annoying exes away. Calms even the ghosts in the basement and maintenance levels.

ZOMBIE PILLS: Another cure for the symptoms to the above Zombie bite, found under our TAILS prompt above. Will completely cure the bitten party. Unfortunately, these pills must be administered rectally.

GHOST BELL: Helps the living find a wayward ghost. Particularly useful for finding those that have been separated from their bodies when getting mixed in to the ghosts crossing.

HOLY WATER: Burns the flesh of demonic and monstrous entities. Also clears the skin of any blemishes.

► Cursed treasures to be found in the Rookery. Scam artists boldly lie about how these items are blessed despite knowing full well that they're not.

BLACK CANDLE: Burn this candle and make a wish, it will come true. In actuality, the wish will be fulfilled but in the worst way possible, a la the classic monkey's paw. It also smells bad, like cheeto feet.

BLESSED TUNIC: A tunic that will ward off any attacks from the living or the dead. In actuality, this tunic does keep people away ... but only because it makes the wearer smell pungently of body odor.

VIAL OF POWER: A draught guaranteed to improve your strength and make you more appealing, sexually. In actuality, all this liquid does is make the drinker gassy. Best guarantee is that you'll fart every three steps.

LUCKY PENNY: A significant increase in luck! Technically true... but in actuality, the luck is bad luck. Small things, like stubbing your toe or saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

A REAL SOLID GOLD RING: An exquisite piece from the ancient ages, made of pure gold that holy virgin priestesses wore when bathing in celestial light. Fake ass ring made of tinfoil. Makes your finger green.

1000 YEAR OLD WINE: The most delicious wine to ever exist! Coveted by emperors and gods alike! Tastes okay, and the alcohol content is high, but changes the drinker's voice into an embarrassing high pitch that cracks often. Also, can potentially make your ass hair grow long. Like, really long.

► Plenty of junk, knickknacks, and used clothing can also be found for reasonable prices. The sellers in the Rookery prefer to trade but will take chips since they're in such a good mood thanks to the influx of yin energy.

BACK HALLWAYS & STAIRS

OUT OF SERVICE

A LONELY GHOST (EASY MODE)

► While the moon is full in the main lobby, the elevators are out of order. Staff will ask guests to kindly use the stairs and, due to the urgency of the situation, allow them to use the special back hallways usually exclusive to staff. Back hallways have the ability to traverse great distances in the stretch of an average hallway. The downside is that these back hallways and all the stairs around the main lobby are plunged into the darkness of the moon's endless night. While there are candles, their light doesn't travel very far.

Well. That isn't the only downside.

► Though there are numerous wayward spirits passing through, one stubborn ghost sticks around to haunt the hallways and stairs. The lonely ghost takes on the appearance of a charming young man or woman before approaching guests to ask, "Am I pretty? Will you kiss me?" A negative response will result in continued persistence and sobbing while a positive result will result in frenzied joy.

► No matter the form the lonely ghost is taking, when it steps forward to try and initiate a kiss, its mouth will trisect open and unfurl several slimy tubes. Even with this hideous transformation its eyes will glitter with adoration and hope as it leans in for a passionate smooch... it can't help that it was born this way! It just wants love too!

► The ghost will chase would-be lovers through the hallways, a la Scooby Doo. However, escaping the lonely ghost isn't difficult, and it will change targets when it spots someone else to pursue.

A LONELY MONSTER (INTENSE MODE)

...drip... drip... drip...
► In the deepest corridors and the darkest corners lurks another creature. It scuttles across the ceiling, dripping slime from its maw and curled tentacles, waiting for unsuspecting guests to pass by with delightful anticipation. This tentacled monster is more aggressive than the lonely ghost, looking to snatch up anyone it can find and steal them away to its sticky nest. This monster is greedy and willing to snatch up as many guests as it possibly can.

► This tentacle creature is extremely fast and aggressive. It will chase its prey through the hallways with incredible speed. Its flesh is difficult to pierce, though not impossible. Bloody it up enough and it'll scuttle away to tend to its wounds before heading back out again looking for prey.

► However, this monster isn't looking to eat its captured victims. No, no, no. Stop crying, beloved captured prey. It just so happens to be this monster's breeding season. The lonely monster will use its tentacles to pleasure its captured prey and, potentially, lay its eggs inside particularly suitable guests. Don't worry — if you like tentacles but not so much the eggs, this monster is particular about the mother(s) of its monster cubs. It won't take anyone. Only those that especially catch its eye.

► Not that there will be any monster cubs. Unfortunately, this tentacle monster really needs another tentacle monster to properly raise a family. Any guests imbued with eggs will be left to shit them out. Thankfully, they're on the small side.

THE ELEVATORS

Wait... weren't the elevators out of order?

► Throughout the next few weeks there will be clear signs and posts around the elevator bank that the elevators are not currently in service and that guests should use the back hallways and stairs. However, at random times, the elevators will appear to be fully functional. Their doors will slide open in front of guests, emitting an inviting glow out into the darkness. The door will remain open until someone steps inside.

► Any guests brave enough to ignore all of the classic horror movie signs that these elevators are possessed as hell will be locked inside once the door closes. A childish giggle rings inside before the elevator plunges into darkness and everything jerks wildly. Elevators will play the classic tower of terror prank of plunging for several floors before spitting guests out in a random location. If the ghost is feeling particularly cheeky, it may spit its prisoners out somewhere they would really hate to be.

MONSTER MASH

ITCH BENEATH THE SKIN

OUT OF BODY EXPERIENCE

► Guests that spend too much time amongst the wandering spirits or who end up swept along with a group of them hurrying into a wall may find themselves knocked out of their bodies and forced into ghost form. Their bodies will collapse while their spirit is swept away into the resort.

► While in spirit form, guests can do everything a ghost can! They can walk through walls, possess or haunt their friends, and even infiltrate the dreams of other guests. Whatever ghostly tropes you would like to lean into, including the Patrick Swayze love experience, are at your disposal.

► The longer they're away from their body, however, the harder it will be to readjust to the flesh. There's also the small issue of staff picking up any "dead" bodies and shipping them over to the morgue. If they spend too long playing outside, wayward spirit guests may have to head over to the morgue to find their body (please see TDM prompt Arrival, Tails for details on why this sucks for them).

MOONFLUENCE

► The moon grows stronger after several days of gathering strength in the main lobby. Those that have basked in its light, even if it was only for a short while, may begin to feel that itch again... only this time it does not abate. The sensation becomes maddening, rippling beneath the flesh without restraint. Then — suddenly — it breaks free.

► Guests are transforming into monsters of all kinds under the influence of the moon. There is no limit on the type of monster that guests can transform into. Some guests may transform into vampires and weres while others may turn into dragonkin and tentacle monsters. The moon does not discriminate. Players are welcome to turn their characters into any kind of creature or monster they would like.

► Transformations do not need to be complete. Guests may have half or partial transformations. Transformations also vary in duration; a guest could potentially turn into several monsters over the course of the moon's rise in the main lobby. A guest could be a werewolf for an hour and shift into a vampire the next. Of course, a guest could also remain a werewolf for the entire duration of the moon's influence. This moon really loves some chaos.

► Any guests undergoing monster transformation may also utilize any of the DIAMONDS effects. In typical Golden Peacock fashion, transformations can also automatically come with intense arousal to get these guests into the freaky monster fuckin' spirit.

THE VALE

OVERGROWN WILDS

INFLUX

► In an effort to keep the monster situation under control, and to avoid mass destruction of the Golden Peacock, staff are attempting to corral any transformed guests into the vale. Of course, there's no way for them to get nearly half of the transformed guests in there, but some of the monsters seem to enjoy the more natural ambiance the vale provides.

► As more and more guests transform into monsters, the staff have little choice but to place advertisements for monster hunters. The job is easy enough: anyone who has not been transformed qualifies and the job description is to drag monsters into the vale for containment. Monster hunters will earn a medium payout for every transformed guest they toss into the vale. Monster hunters that fuck the monster before tossing them into the vale will receive an additional large payment.

► Transformed guests that turn back to their normal form will be allowed to leave the vale. Not that the staff can actually do much to stop them from leaving when they're monsterized, to begin with...

TERRAIN

► The vale has been shifted into night mode for the next few weeks to accommodate the newly turned monster guests. A full moon hangs overhead, though unlike the monster moon in the main lobby, this moon is digitized on the overhead panels for the sake of ambiance.

► A thick fog perpetually runs through the forest and weather simulations such as rain and snow rotate on a timer to provide a realistic experience. Every type of weather common during autumn/winter rotates through the vale.

► Caverns, caves, alcoves, and other earthy terrain stretches across the base of the vale. Tall trees with giant gnarled roots provide shelter. Bioluminescent mushrooms light the way in the darkness of simulated night. A long river runs through the vale. There are also several small ponds where these rivers lead to, as well as a couple of small waterfalls.

PACK MENTALITY

► Monsters of the same type may experience a resonance, or pack mentality, triggering any of the HEARTS effects between them. For example, canine-based monsters may feel unexpected fondness toward each other and be inclined to create a pack or share a den. Feline-based monsters may feel affectionate and groom one another. Aquatic-based creatures may feel that lightning shock of love at first sight. You get the idea!

► Resonance that triggers a Hearts effect can occur between monsters of different types but it's less common. Like calls to like, and monsters of the same or similar types will be naturally drawn toward one another.

SMOKED EGG

DEN OF THE BLOODTHIRSTY

THE COVEN

► Some of the civilized monsters refuse to be caught in the vale. Particularly, a coven a vampires has flooded into the Smoked Egg and transformed it into a den of debauchery. Gone are the gauzy curtains and pillows, replaced with stark red and black upholstery that lends itself to the vampiric aesthetic. The smoke, however, remains a haze over the lounge. This smoke is imbued with a relaxant to help loosen up any "prey" that wanders into their den.

► As far as prey goes — any creature that isn't a vampire applies. Prey will be doted upon and coaxed with the hopes of being fed upon. All those who come to the Smoked Egg will be encouraged to dip into hedonism with the coven and join in the sensual vampire orgy. Clothing in the lounge is optional, with many couples making love right in the open where other guests can watch.

► Guests that have turned into vampires, or were vampires to begin with, will be warmly welcomed by the coven. All vampires are capable of turning other guests into vampires through siring — this ritual involves exchanging blood between the master and sire, and will create an empathic bond between them. Vampires of the coven are happy to teach newly turned vampires how to do this trick if they don't already know. While guests can still shift from a vampire into another monster under the moon's influence, or return to a normal human, this empathic bond with their "creator" could potentially remain indefinitely.

VAMPIRIC LUXURIES

► The bar is stocked with numerous blood-based cocktails. Some blood has been collected in bottles, while other drinks are made from the blood of live and willing donors. The cocktails run the gambit of accompanying effects — players may select any SPADES effects for drinks at the vampiric bar.

► Though the core coven that have taken up residence in the Smoked Egg seem to be exhibitionists, there are numerous back rooms for those that prefer some privacy. Rather than traditional beds, however, guests will find luxurious coffins. There's nothing quite like fucking in a coffin, is there? Especially an upright one!

► We can't forget the vampire's pride and joy: the blood pool. This pool is filled with 100% bona fide blood, perfect for a round of fucking or just some relaxation. This pool is kept at a warm temperature because cold blood just isn't as good. Non-vampire guests will be encouraged to add some blood to the pool. It's the least you can do after being waited on hand and foot, after all.

BALANCE RETURNS

TIME TO TAKE THAT PTO

THE HOUSE TAKES A VACATION

► Between getting pummeled by guest shenanigans earlier in the month and then managing an invasive monster moon, the house is exhausted. Even near-omnipotent manifestations have a bottom line. Since the house isn't really going anywhere it's more accurate to call this a staycation, but either way, it's not taking any calls for a while.

► A general notice will flash on the electronic bulletin boards that due to overwork, the usual staff have also been granted paid time off by the house. Given how haggard the receptionists, bellhops, and cleaners all look after cleaning the Peacock from head to toe after overwhelming monster mischief, it's a much needed break. The Golden Peacock, after great efforts, is restored to semi-normal from most monster-caused damage. Some reminders remain, like those scuff marks that won't come out no matter how hard the cleaners scrub.

► During this time, the house will not be causing any mischief and harassing guests. It's a time of decompression for everyone. Right about now it's sitting back with a glass of whiskey and wondering why these recent guests have been such a handful compared to years past. It's almost like they don't want to lose themselves in hedonism and debauchery!

THE B-TEAM

► Of course, the house won't leave the Golden Peacock totally unmanned. The guests still need tending to! During this rest period, temps and back of house staff that don't typically work front of house are filling customer service roles. You know what that means: minor inconveniences abound.

► The B-team is nowhere near as good as the usual staff. Simple mistakes are more common during this time. Deliveries are sent to the wrong suites, the wrong dining service arrives, the towels aren't washed, and the front desk knows literally nothing outside of the basic function of checking guests in. It's not even worth asking when the house will be back, let alone asking for some other manager. But after the chaos of the past month, maybe these small annoyances aren't all that bad?

► The house will be back! ... Later. For now, the Golden Peacock is quiet, even the most party-hard guests fatigued from the past year of fun. What's to come? You'll just have to wait and see.

OOC NOTES

INVITES | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS

▶ BLANKET CW: aphrodisiac; biting; blood; body horror; coercion; death (referenced); dubcon; fear; furries; ghosts; horror themes; monsters; noncon; orgy; oviposition; scratching; tentacles; transformation; vampires; wounds; undead; xeno; zombies

▶ All characters on the TDM are WILDCARDS, which means they have not yet been assigned a card value. Suits will not manifest until characters are accepted into the game.

▶ All TDMs are game canon. This TDM acts as the game's October event. Changes to the above locations will ICly be present from October 15th - November 3rd. All supernatural phenomenon will increase in strength over time, culminating in peak activity on All Hallows' Eve. The days following Halloween will relax, leading into eventual normalcy. Some locations are spared the supernatural frenzy, so players can play as normal if they wish to avoid these tropes/prompts. Players may assume that the supernatural come and go in the above specifically incorporated locations.

▶ Current characters may top level on the TDM. Any current characters posting to the TDM should note they are current in their subject header.

▶ The top level directory is for new characters only. We want to make sure new characters are prioritized and receive attention! If you would be interested in a game invitation, you can note that in your comment header.

▶ If you aren't satisfied with these prompts, please feel free to check out our LOCATIONS to explore more of the resort!

▶ Smut threads that take place on this TDM can be used for rewards. If both parties in the smut thread join the game, you may retroactively apply the character's initial card values to your 52 bank. If one character does not join the game the thread will not be applicable toward rewards (as that character would not have a card value). The character that does join would still receive a small payout for the encounter. Hopefully it was a fun thread regardless!

▶ We ask you to kindly add content warnings to your threads as appropriate. This TDM in particular has the potential to get real wild, so we want to emphasize this request!

▶ If you do not currently have permissions and kinks listed in your character’s journal we suggest leaving a note in your top level of any limits or boundaries for other players to reference.

▶ Go forth and let your freak flag fly!

NAVIGATION • LOG • NETWORK • OOC • MEME

Comments

[silicone]

[ the cheek rubbing is distracting, lighting up all kinds of nerve-endings he didn't even know he had. he likes having his face held in general, but this feels electrifying, and he growls again, soft, a low rumbling that isn't a purr, just a sign of satisfaction, that he likes that, he rubs against his palm, teeth glancing against his skin, wet.

it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, being gripped so tightly, his tail lashes and curls around the other, refusing to let go. as he finally speaks, his brows knit unhappily. ]

Mmh... little over two months...

[ he remembers it, finding wriothesley already in the other's room, which had been cleaned up quite promptly, as though he'd never been there. it'd been... well. a lot. ]

You okay? ...Are you hurt?

[ asks the "monster" who is already pinning ears back again, this time from the sheer overwhelming feeling of p being back, the fear that maybe either of them will get swept back. it's pure instinct now, a rough tongue sliding over the other's palm gently, a small wince to follow as if to apologize for the sudden behavior. ]

[thisclockworkheart]

[ What happened in those two months? His eyes squint and his lips press, a soft chattering of gears and the labored, bassy thudding of his mechanical heart seems to grow louder to his own ears. The more he questions that span of time, the harder the beat. He's shaking.

Are you hurt? The warm scrape of a rough tongue brings him back to earth, his complete lack of a reaction to being licked exposes his fluster in ways his mask of calm cannot.

He doesn't answer him. Not directly. It should be an easy thing — he has lied countless times, has chosen gentle untruths out of kindness — but he doesn't know which would be worse, to reassure him all is well when it isn't, or to articulate what remains shapeless and disconcerting? Better to distract; Eiden seemed appreciative of the attention to his cheek and as his lashes curtain his subtle distress, he lowers the lantern to drop it at his side, taking his face in both hands. ]

I'm supposed to keep you safe with the others who changed. But listen to you... [ Fondness warms his voice. Again, the same indulgent rub that inspired a rumble of satisfaction. ]

You're sweet in any shape, Eiden.

[silicone]

[ eiden faintly knows he's being distracted, and he won't forget this, his tail tip lashing back and forth now in a little uncertainty, though the soft rumbling from between his teeth hasn't stopped. he's rubbed and he melts at the attention and affections of someone he's missed so readily.

it's not fair. he teethes softly at his palm, not a true bite, but a nip that maybe could be considered playful.

as he feels the slight shaking, he curls around him tighter, a hand coming up to thread into the other's hair. ]

Flatterer... that's what you are. And now you picked a hell of a time to come back, this place is going crazy...

[ he shifts to push their foreheads together with a thunk. ]

We should take care of each other.

[thisclockworkheart]

[ This place is going crazy, and Pinocchio can't help the levity that slips from him: ] Feels like home.

[ Monsters and all.

Pinocchio struggles to comprehend why this is so viscerally satisfying, he has never been thirsty, so he doesn't know the profound relief of slaking it with cool water. He has never starved, so he cannot understand the comfort of a full belly. The connection and warmth of welcome touch and being welcomed in return makes him feel a little like an empty vessel gradually being filled back up.

Months he learned to live like a person and not a puppet, but still he's unused to such offers as take care of each other. Letting out a slow sigh, he nods against his forehead. ] We'll find a way through, we always do.

...I'm cold, [ he confesses in a whisper, barely above the rumble he coaxes. There's a scrape against his scalp where Eiden's claws graze him. That's a different sort of shiver. ] This helps. Nothing else does.

[silicone]

"This"? You mean...

[ he asks just to be sure, scritching softly again at the base of p's skull, shifting now as though trying to get in even closer. he doesn't feel a need to defend himself now, so he winds himself further and further around him. his voice stays low as he strokes across the other's cheek with a clawed thumb. ]

If you're supposed to keep me safe... then let me keep you warm for a while.

[ p is just as sweet - even if there is something he's perhaps guarding. eiden's tail slows its lashing to a gentle, inquisitive, trailing warmly along p's arm, his side. his face flushes just a little, because even the proximity alone is enough for him, to reassure himself that he's real, to find his eyes with his own, trace the shape of him in memory. ]

[thisclockworkheart]

[ Doesn't he know the effect Eiden has on the people whose lives are touched by his gentle presence? Even from the first time they met, his influence had engraved a precious thing — consideration and kindness — deeper than the covenant inscribed in the metal and wood bones of his puppet brethren.

Eiden has always and ever cared about the people he meets, this much must be true, because he has never been anything but. It didn't matter if the atmosphere at the resort was peaceful or tense, his consistency made him reliable in ways Pinocchio wasn't used to.

He believes him. In his offer. Betrayed by any level of intimate relation, even by his own creator and father, he believes in Eiden. In the silence, he sinks into the promise of a thumb drawn affectionately over a cheekbone, in the intimacy of breath shared, the brush of a tail that can't quite keep from touching him. Eiden has always seen him, not whatever he was built to be, and he's still learning how to repay him, still learning what it means to be him and not the more worthy son he was crafted to resemble.

Embracing him wholly, the puppet's arms curl around him, a human hand sinking into his hair--fur, he supposes, though it's as soft as he remembers. Warmth floods to his every extremity, its source the heavy thudding of his clockwork heart. This is right, his Ergo whispers, this is what he needs. ]

You're...

[ He's startled by the sensation that paints a hot path down one freckled cheek. He has cried before, but never in this instance. Grief, for his fath-- for his creator and all that was possible, but never achieved, but never because of... the thing that burns hot in his breast. ]

You're kind, Eiden. [ A word he almost chokes on for its unfamiliarity. He pushes into his brow, the cupid's bow of his mouth turning down against the weight of emotion. ] You're so kind.

[silicone]

[ p presses forward and eiden lets out a soft whine, their lips brushing with each syllable. he calls him kind and eiden's brows draw in amusement as he growls a bit more, this time playfully pressing against p, pushing, nudging, knocking him onto his back with a strength he can't quite contain. eiden isn't a slouch, but there's a vibrancy in his muscles now, there underneath his skin, underneath faint patches here and there of patterned fur down his spine - ]

Missed you...

[ tail lifted, shivering a bit as he presses p down onto his back. his eyes go big, as if to drink in as much of him as he possibly can in a handful of heartbeats. ]

And here you are, like a dream.

[ a good one, finally. eiden's been tired of nightmares. clawed fingers trail downwards over p's shirt, nipping at buttons with the tips of his claws under he can trail one over his waistline. his tongue slides out briefly, licking his teeth as he meets the other's eyes. his hands press against his shoulders, down his sides, squeezing with the tips of his claws tapping feather-light. ]

I don't have to wake up yet, right...?

[ this entire experience, being a monster, has already made him wonder if he even woke up from going to sleep the night prior. what is all this but some joke, surely?

he's back he's back he's back. ]

[thisclockworkheart]

[ Three hundred pounds of metal and... everything else that makes him a being who can straddle that boundary between machine and man with no explanation, it's not easy to knock over. Eiden manages, as much a testament to the strength of his transformation... and the influence of his personality over someone described as unstoppable, indomitable.

Pinocchio's breath, an imitation of the basic need of other humans, gusts out of him when his back hits the ground, yet his arms reach up for him, inviting him near, wanting, needing every inch of him that the puppet can still touch.

Missed you. A sentiment that his heart has felt before, but lacked the vocabulary. They open it like the sun opens a flower; he's pressed down into the soft earth, but his chin and shoulders lean up like he means to defy gravity, to cleave to the negligible space between. Pinocchio seeks his mouth with lips parted, invitingly open, all but innocent, humming into the seal formed when he can finally fit his plush lips over Eiden's questing mouth.

He doesn't have to wake from a dream that's all too real. Not when Eiden, exactly as he is, no matter how he's been twisted into anything else, is still the same man that has won a puppet over. His tongue, warm, wet, soft, presses past the sweet-soft barrier of Eiden's lips, the hard shapes of his teeth, seeking something more.

Please. All he has ever wanted is to be real enough for... this. To like. To want. ]

[silicone]

[ it's impossible on any other day. eiden hears the sound of p landing as he does, even when allowing him some sway no doubt. his claws knead gently against him as he's kissed, lips parting easily revealing a pliant, warm, wet tongue and sharp teeth. up close like this, eiden can smell him - oil and parts and all - and he loves it, recognizes it as p and p alone, his tail high like a banner and vocalizations, growling and rumbling in his throat as he enjoys their mingling.

eiden starts with clothing, pushing p's shirt up from his waist, rucking it up high under his arms so he can pull from the kiss just to look at him heatedly. his tongue slides from his mouth and he licks up the line from navel to the space between his pectorals, to open-mouthed teethe over where his body pistons onward.

in doing so, his hands chase downwards next, push trousers open and down so there's nothing but the chill of the ground beneath them both, the silhouette of eiden's figure almost imposing with how worked up his gotten. ]

I want to hear you... will you let me?

[ use your voice. as he kneads his thighs slowly, leans in to kiss his mouth again, swept up with tongue and teeth and nibbling on his lower lip. ]

[thisclockworkheart]

[ Every prickle of claws against him, each slick-rough slide of his tongue is welcome. His body sings with sensation, and the pervasive chill that clung so stubbornly to him is starting to ebb, its harsh, jagged edges filed down. The sound he makes against Eiden's mouth hums for more, in sweet relief.

It doesn't escape his notice that this has happened before. Not so much the reunion, but the easy descent into mutual touch and deepening affection. Perhaps the puppet is so hungry for a thing his heart scarcely understands that he grasps for anything resembling its ardor, heedless of its source. That denies Eiden's storied history of influencing and drawing others to his side, denies the very real attachment that has grown between him and a puppet who dared become something more.

He knows what shame is, but it has no shape for him like this, out in the open, scantily lit by the nearby lantern and wreathed in shadow. Eiden pushes up the ruffled shirt with its plunging neckline, extracting its hem from the high waist of his breeches and Pinocchio's eyes seem darker like this, with the way pupils swallow the glassy blue. His lips are not swollen or dark, like the kissbitten should be, he doesn't sweat, but his chest rises and falls in the imitation of desire.

Pinocchio has felt teeth on him before, he's been savaged by them, has endured with stoic agony when they've torn pieces from him. But the sensitive flinch under the scrape of Eiden's sharp teeth, his spit a cooling trail up his belly and chest, is instead chased by the surge of his shoulders up from the grass. Actuators chug and whirr in his prosthesis. It's the more human-seeming hand that cards into his mane, hips nudging at the air and heels digging the earth as he pulls open his breeches, and drags them down from slender thighs.

Compliments to Eiden are abundant; the gentle arc of his not insignificant girth (and that, courtesy of the House's lie-related gift the first time around) is already fattened up with interest. Imposing as Eiden is like this, in the heavy silence between them as they drink in the sight of one another, the puppet's fondness is tinged with hunger. His teeth sink briefly into the plush lower ribbon of his lip.

Like a magnet, he's pulled toward Eiden, craving contact. He leans up to meet Eiden's mouth with his, lips parted and soft, fingers spread over the contours of his chest, following the slope of his waist, seeking the sharps of his hips. His own tongue curls under his, soft, his taste curiously neutral, but the shameless confidence of the hand that searches out the shape of Eiden's cock, to squeeze in invitation, that's as much an affirmative as his nodding reply.

It's emotion, not coercion, that pinches his expression, his pounding heart feeling full. ]

Anything. [ He means that. Eiden could have anything, but Pinocchio's services, his love, have always come stained in blood and oil. ] Anything you want. However you want. I...

[ A terrifying thrill it is to have a voice, to use it to say what he wants, and the rush of validation when it's a receptive audience is a heady one. ] Want you to be all I feel, Eiden.

[silicone]

[ eiden is happy to indulge in kissing, more than willing to part lips and soften his touch of teeth to simply enjoy the way that p feels against him, touching him. his clothing is something he's certainly tried to keep intact, but it's clear maybe he's gotten a little sharper, leaner, muscles still sleek and strong... maybe even stronger considering.

as they mingle, he tries to work his own way out of his shirt, already full with the sight of the other. tossing it away he reveals the soft, creamy fluff that spreads down his collarbones and lightly over his pectorals, warm handfuls in p's travels in mapping out his body, and fading out. eiden licks softly at his mouth between his sentences, chasing the sound of his voice, laying hands on him lower, between his thighs, fingers curling around his shaft. Anything. the word capitlizes itself in eiden's head.

he breathes him in, suffuses himself in the other and how it matches up piece for piece in his memory. his hips wiggle a little, betraying both excitement and the uncontainable thrill - he's back. right? the hand between his own thighs certainly says as much and he tips his head back a moment, takes in the feeling, the sound of his every word.

at the familiar syllables of his name, he turns his eyes to look up at him, tooth caught at the edge of his lips like a lone pearl. he nuzzles his cheek softly, stroking down once out of curiosity, then up, thumb caressing the shape of him, tracing, chasing. ]

Then relax for me, okay? I'll take care of you.

[ something entirely eiden, a wink, cheeky and silly before he's overtaken again with the swell of their scents intermingling, of heat blooming in different ways between the both of them. he wets his own lips and it isn't long before he's shifting to slowly crawl his way down the line of his body, nosing and nuzzling on the way down, lips coming to a stop just shy of the base of his cock. ]

[thisclockworkheart]

[ Unabashed and bold, Pinocchio's curious fingers pull and pluck at Eiden's clothes as he disrobes, and the moment his head tips back, relishing the squeeze of the puppet's fingers around the root of his interest, he's rewarded by the flash of his teeth, a smile that carves a dimple in one freckled cheek.

He'd be lying to himself if he claimed he didn't feel some twinge of self-consciousness as he hears Eiden taking his scent; Pinocchio is keenly aware that he smells of machine oil and metal, and without the daily indulgence in a hot shower and fragrant soap, the scent becomes intrusive, obvious.

Eiden lavishes attention on him, so ardent and undeterred; it convinces him it's not a problem.

Relax for him, he asks. I'll take care of you. That sentiment comes for the puppet's throat in a way too many of Eiden's sweet words have; Pinocchio, speechless, answers his cheek with a dive forward to chase down the pearl of a fang with a stamp of his lips. The peck is chaste, but the stare he sends him as he eases back on his elbows, fingers trailing away from Eiden's cock with reluctance, is anything but.

Soft sighs follow Eiden on his way down. Pinocchio's shoulders betray his instinct to chase, to do anything but lie on his back, curling up from the ground and dropping back with a huff when his hot breath curls around every part of him that yearns for his touch. He tickles and tantalizes, winding up the puppet with anticipation. Scarcely touched and yet hard enough that the blunt head of his uncut cock knocks against his belly at the sight of him so close, his left arm chugs as he brings it up and back, gripping the grass behind him, biting his lower lip. ]

I'll be good. For now, [ he adds, a bit of breathless cheek. There's more than a modest mouthful waiting; the first time he came to the Resort, the House had given him a very peculiar gift. Each lie he told, each omission of the truth had made a part of him grow alright, but unlike the famous Kratian tale, it wasn't his nose. At least he figured it out before a present turned into a problem. ]

[silicone]

For now... I can take that, handsome.

[ the last polite conversation he makes before he takes the head of him into his mouth, soft breath leaving him as he swallows the tip and wets it liberally with the softness under his tongue, the velvety sensation of his cheeks. he hums in taking him down, truly seeming to enjoy it as he makes a noise and sinks an inch or two down with a gradual bobbing of his head.

as his eyes flick upwards, eiden can't help but feel a warmth fill his chest, flood his body as he enjoys him with care. a hand keeps steady on the shaft of pinocchio's cock. this damn place is always so hungry and eiden can feel the way it urges him on, makes him insatiable, more so than usual.

pulling off him with a loud pop, lewd and slick-lipped, eiden licks his mouth in true feline fashion, teeth stark in the dark. ]

But you'll find out that it's going to be hard.

[ eiden gives the space between pinocchio's cock and sac rest, nuzzling just a little bit before now beginning to trail messily further down between his thighs towards the cleft of his ass where he spreads him slowly. ]

rimming? it's not even my birthday!

[thisclockworkheart]

[ Puppets aren't really doted on. Which isn't to say he's never experienced what it's like to be taken care of, but there's a gulf of difference between maintenance and the affection he's come to know (and come to miss). Little wonder, then, that he's imprinted on Eiden so completely; he's so generous with his attention. It's never dangled before him like a prize, there are no conditions, no price to pay.

Eiden's glance up catches him unaware, his lips parted, soft, his attention rapt with the delicious distraction of his mouth. He's conflicted in his yearning; he trusts Eiden, and the sweet, wet ministrations of his mouth make him ache to press deeper into him, but my, what sharp teeth he has. It's going to be hard is a double-entendre and when it's caught up to him the puppet's answering laugh is just this side of giddy.

This isn't his first time feeling a man's mouth sink over his cock, but it is the first time anyone has done this. Curiosity pulls him from the haze of pleasure as he feels his hot breath curl around the sack that hugs taut against the base of his cock. The wet sweep of tongue along his perineum is so unfamiliar that he jolts.

He was told to relax, but he wants to know what he's doing. The puppet's prosthesis whirs to life and he curls forward. Wearing his surprise in wide eyes and eyebrows shot up through dark hair, his breath caves in his chest when he huffs: ] Eiden!

[ It's not a protest. None of his posture reads like a refusal — shoulders curled forward, propped up by his steel arm, the other hand fisted at his mouth, halfway to turning on a hip to help by lifting one slender thigh, his blue eyes dark, pupils blown. ]

any day ending in 'y'

[silicone]

[ the sound of his name past pinocchio's lips earns the sensation of a sly grin against the other's skin. his eyes lift as he's curled forward, mouth wandering steadily downwards. seeing that thigh lift? it makes his fur bristle with desire, tail lashing as he pushes with a hand poised under the other's knee, spreading him wider so that he can press his hot tongue against the seam of him.

a noise leaves him, half-snarl, wet and starving. he's careful, tongue curling against the skin, wet and warm while his hands keep his hips steady.

seeing pinocchio's dark hair fall into his face, the silhouette of his body so dangerously yet beautifully arced forward as his mouth and fist make contact. a blink to commit the pose to memory - like a perfectly contraposto statue in a museum. eiden's claws prick further against pinocchio's thighs as he licks again and again, wadding drool on the tip of his tongue as he presses further on. ]

[thisclockworkheart]

[ Eiden tastes him with such desire that his hunger for it yawns large inside him; Pinocchio's soft lips drag over the ledge of a bent knuckle, a shiver of breath slipping through teeth just slightly parted. His tongue moves against him, spit pooling, and as it starts to lap against his rim he gasps. So what if he's had little experience, none of it could have prepared him for the silken pleasure of his tongue where he hasn't felt it before.

He bites at his own fist, grounding himself, lashes sweeping low as he starts to sink into the sensation. It's as though his tongue seeks to smooth out every wrinkle, his leg twitches, his upraised heel swaying in the air, and he hastily grabs at the underside of his thigh with his metal hand. This costs him a way to prop himself up, and his back inevitably unspools to the ground. ]

Ohh, [ pliant and pink, his hole winks against his tongue, and in hearing the shiver in his exhalation, Pinocchio bubbles up another brief laugh. His head rolls to the side, chin tipping down, his hand palming the arc of his cock — because he wants to see Eiden — the half masted droop of his eyelids lends a hazy look to his pleasure. ]

That tickles, a little. It feels really good. [ a sigh caves his chest as another movement of supple tongue makes his spine arch and his thigh twitch under the steely clasp of his fingers. ] Being with you... always feels so good.

[silicone]

[ eiden just tilts his head a little for a moment, barely lifting himself from his diligent work pulling a string of beautiful sounds from p's lips. his eyes, slitted now and giving off a soft reflective light, meet his own, his tail swaying slowly back and forth. his claws are free now that pinocchio is holding his thigh, and he brings one hand down to spread him just a little wider, a soft snarl leaving him.

it's an unusual way to say hello, but he doesn't mind it. his mouth shifts upwards briefly to nip at his innermost thigh, washing over it with his tongue and letting out another one of those contented rumbles. he smells good, irresistable even, and all eiden can do is nuzzle in and continue his task, tongue prodding and pressing against him, thumbs splaying him open as he folds said tongue to continue to leave a wetter and wetter trail, striping up his taint, mouthing at his sac with a sweet noise.

he wants to fuck him - that's really what he wants to do - an image of holding him tightly to his chest, hips pistoning into him. he whines as the mere thought makes him drool, makes him wet for it as his nose bumps into p's cock again. insufferably beautiful, both with his tender words and the way his arousal stands proudly. if he leans up to rub his cheeks against the shaft of it, well. ]

Tempting... to finish you off just like that. You taste so good...

[ licking his lips, fingertips drawing over his tongue now before slipping between p's thighs, one prodding his hole, spit slick, the other pulling open the plush cheek of his bottom, exposing him to eiden enough that he just grins and nuzzles right in to kiss against right over that twitching hole. ]

[thisclockworkheart]

[ For some, the Resort is a gilded cage, a distraction that keeps them from the people and places they care about. For Pinocchio, it has been a new chapter — dazzling, indulgent, and corrupting. Krat's bloody and diseased corpse was cooling beneath a new dawn, fallen from prosperity, its ultimate fate uncertain (but improved, no longer under siege).

There, he found betrayal and faith, compassion and cruelty, death upon death upon death. Here, rich experiences beyond compare, the sweetest poison to a heart that yearns to understand what it means to beat. Eiden has every ounce of trust Pinocchio knows to give anyone; his litany rises from sighs and soft noises of pleasure to a full-throated moan at the press of tongue and fingers.

He could come like this, rubbing his cock needily against the soft fur of his cheek, Eiden's finger pulling so deliciously at his rim. The puppet keens, and that's when he thinks of it. How much he needs Eiden's breath, his delight in his ear, the heat of his desire inside him, how good it could be, how much better, if Eiden could feel this good with him. ]

I... can't— won't.

[ Shame isn't what holds his tongue. He doesn't know that particular feeling, what sticks in his throat is past experience: how dare you - you're just a puppet, nothing more! What burns it away... is the heat of Eiden's passion, freely given. His sincere warmth, that has always treated him the same as anyone else.

He reaches for him, pushing his fingers through soft fur, cradling his head in metal and seemingly flesh palms. His legs drop, open, without shame, taut belly tightening as he curls his upper body up off the ground, trying to coax him up. To a point, and then he attempts to roll Eiden onto his back, straddling him, chin tucked and hair a wavy, disheveled veil before his eyes.

It's perilous, exhilarating to say it, and his lip trembles on the end of a breath. ]

Not without you, Eiden, [ He wants, wants so badly he's shaking. ] I want you inside of me.

[silicone]

[ eiden isn't hard to turn over, even like this—onto his back he goes. he licks his lips a few times, pushed down with a soft "oof" underlaid with a growl. his own cock is now given further space to stand proudly, drooling essence-laden pre from the tip. eiden's chest heaves with anticipation, eyes blown wide and full of the view in front of him.

his hands lay on his thighs, claws flexing to curl against him, pricking ever so slightly. he's beautiful, hovering over him, the arch of his body with the strength of it in display underneath, it makes his mouth wet. his cock twitches at the same time as his hips push upwards like an offering, an acceptance: both. ]

Then... don't let me stop you. You're right there after all...

[ letting fingers climb further up to hold the other's hips, curling his grip around his ass slowly.

it's true that this place is more of a cage than anything, but the people that eiden has met and come to care deeply about really shakes him to his core: ]

Please...

[thisclockworkheart]

Eiden.

[ Pinocchio is no praying man. Kratians kept their faith, some of them took the difficult trek year after year into the inhospitable peaks above the city, and when he made the ascent, he found only monsters and pain. The only time he has ever related to those penitent travelers is now, in the invocation of his name. A prayer on his lips.

He wants to please. Not anyone, just the ones who matter the most to his fledgling heart. ]

Eiden...

[ The puppet has seen a fern unfurl from an appealing, ever-tightening spiral that Gemini had called a "fiddlehead". The night turned into day, and as the feeble sunlight filtered down on the mountainside through rolling clouds, this solitary plant gradually unfurled under the stormy sky, drinking in the faint sunshine. That's how this feels. Like he's blooming under Eiden's touch, stretching and becoming something more.

'Please' is all he needs. Pinocchio's fist pushes up towards Eiden's weeping tip, now kissing the rim that flexes invitingly against his glans. He's wet, and so is Eiden, but Pinocchio is still inexperienced, and the blunted tip of Eiden's cock breaches him slowly, eventually tearing a low groan from his lips. His spine bows over Eiden's supine form, a bestial cock sinking slowly into a willing hole that trembles and spasms as it recalibrates around a larger girth than he expects.

Pinocchio's spine arches, his chest heaving in the moonlight, and dark lashes sweep freckled cheeks. His lips part, a shivery exhale shuddering out of him as he adjusts. Never has he felt this full, this... whole. He can't say a thing, and only presses one palm to his abdomen, low, near the root of his cock, feeling the heat and pressure of being filled, pressing against synthetic skin. ]

[silicone]

Steady... slow... mmh... all in...

[ the words are the barest peek of eiden's tenderness as his claws threaten to sink further into his prey. as a wholly sensual creature, eiden doesn't want to eat flesh and blood, he doesn't want to rend or tear. instead, he keens and arches up to meet him at that pace, white teeth glinting in wan moonlight.

he's trying to hold back, even as pinocchio bottoms out against him, even as they breath like one intertwined body. eiden's eyes go wide like a cat's, as p places a palm on his own belly. he knows he's tucked inside there, hot and wanting and he can't help but buck upwards.

he wants to make up for the time they've lost. with a growl, a deep rumble, he thrusts up again, bringing meaning to the word "ride" because pinocchio had best hold on. the invigoration of becoming this monster, sleek muscle and power, means that he's pinned, but not incapable of lifting with his heels sunken into the ground and his claws dig into the soft cheeks of his bottom.

his voice getting rougher, a pulled back snarl: ]

I'm going to fill you with everything I have... this place... [ thrusting again, for emphasis, eyes gone sharp again with the conviction of it as his tail wraps itself around one of pinocchio's calves, flicking at his heel. ] ... going to fuck you full, for all the time I missed with you...

[thisclockworkheart]

[ Slow and steady might have been Pinocchio's intention, yet the need Eiden has so easily built up in him makes every moment spent adjusting to the hot shape of him inside a sweet torture; with every tremble in his own sturdy frame he's made all the more aware — of how Eiden breathes with him, of the prickle where his claws threaten, of the flex of muscle in Eiden's lean belly when he gives into his hunger.

Puppets are not subject to the same experiences as human beings, Pinocchio has never been drunk, but he feels intoxicated by the sound of Eiden's voice, his keen, the rumble that answers Pinocchio's gasp, right on the heels of a thrust that judders the curl of dark hair that curtains one eye. On the sensation, the friction that's just on this side of rough and growing slicker for how Eiden's cock weeps into him. The puppet sways, gripping him by shoulder and chest, leaning forward, thighs seeming to bunch as simulated muscle brings his seat down to meet Eiden's hips in a clap muffled against fur.

This gasp is sharper — he likes that, the latent power in him, the roughening of that voice he cherishes, the bite of his claws — and he doesn't so much nod as his head sags forward, bobbing clumsily as he rides him.

Where he's pushed him open, Pinocchio aches, deep and hot. It's a kind of pain, he supposes, but one of the kinds he likes, the kind that ebbs with familiarity, the kind that will ache with the void in him when it's gone. He's full of him now, and that what he wants, and another smack when Eiden hilts himself in him seems to knock a sound — a huh! — up from his core.

The grip of his body ripples through a tremor. Stars above, the confidence and ease with which Eiden wields his body for pleasure... ]

Big words, ah—

[ The dark curls that bounce around his freckled face have draped his eyes in shadow, but the scant light caught in them still sparkles with mischief. Watching him. Watching Eiden as the round cheeks of his ass judder in his grip every time his hips drop to meet a thrust. A boyish smile lurks in the corner of his mouth, a whisper of something competitive and fond: ] Could, take all night.

[ He's aware of how heavy he is, so there's always some of the strength in his legs devoted to keeping the full brunt of it from crushing Eiden, but when leans back, he plants himself down. Grinding his captive cock, rocking against his hips, the puppet manages a strained taunt around the pleasure pulsing in time. ] Can you keep up?

[silicone]

[ god he's beautiful - even when they aren't tangled up like this, pinocchio is beautiful, but the dark curls swaying heavily with sweat now, with the beginnings of their coupling that become more vigorous. eiden can't help but growl, feeling p bouncing against his hips and grabbing them tighter, using the newly-gained strength to assist, to push him into the perfect angle on his cock by mere centimeters and then anchor himself with his claws. ]

We go 'til you're satisfied.

[ a grin blooming out his mouth full of teeth, tongue flicking out to lick over his eyeteeth. ]

Because I know I can keep up... question is how long can you go at the pace you're - [ tilting his head back as he's stroked down with pinocchio's hot, hungry body. clawing a little more for purchase. ] - you're at... hah... nngh...

[ pinocchio has taken the weight on his hands, so eiden uses that to his advantage, forcing his hips closer, grinding him up and down with his claws sunken into him. he has fond memories, blade is enthusiastic, vigorous, brings him to the very brink of his limits and then pushes them. his own body now is far more durable than before - a byproduct of becoming so monstrous, and more still as his desires are fueled, a body pressed against his own so perfectly, their eyes meeting between strands of hair and thin droplets of exertion.

one of his hands slides downwards, fingers curling around pinocchio's generous cock and starting to stroke it. ]

I need to give every part of you it's proper attention, after all.

[ another sweet squeeze of his palm as he works up to his glans, thumb circling against it with dribbling pre and spit. ]

[thisclockworkheart]

[ It's a lucky accident. Pinocchio doesn't sweat. As their congress chases off the lingering chill of recent petrification, the cool, misty air has pilled on his skin due to the rise in internal temperature. It completes the illusion, bringing with it the taste of the salt that has landed on his skin when a drop falls within reach of his tongue, over the ribbon of his freckled lip.

His eyes have lidded over while doing so, as if he's tasting, in more ways than one, the way Eiden feels — inside him, touching him — and the intoxicating sound of his voice, when their repartee starts to fray under the heat of blazing pleasure. ]

Hhhn— [ he reopens his eyes, shamelessly rutting into Eiden's fist, the rise and fall of the puppet's body around him as inexorable and relentless as a rolling tide. ] You're so good at that.

[ There are those who would shy from this, from the way he leans forward, his torso bridging over Eiden's so that he might slot his mouth to his. It's a kiss that sees teeth clacking against fangs in his blind urgency. He doesn't care. One might suppose he doesn't need to, considering his manufactured origins, licking brazenly into his mouth, all thoughtless passion, thighs pushing hips up only to drop him flush against Eiden's lap again and again.

Eiden's tail is soft and warm, its fur tickles where it touches him, curled around his ankle. It seems strange that it should touch him so, with Eiden hitting so deep as he bounces on his lap, but it does. Sweet, like so many of those personal moments, words that he suspects might be everyday things to Eiden and yet pierce his golden heart.

His more human arm curls behind Eiden's head in an embrace, his questing tongue tracing the point of a fang. For all his challenges, it's Pinocchio who comes first, flesh quivering around his cock while he rides him through the messy drizzle of his spend over Eiden's knuckles. It isn't a thing done quietly, no, how can it be? But he's muffled the keen of Eiden's name into his furred neck, steel fingers carving furrows in the earth above his shoulder. ]

[silicone]

[ just stating for the record: i love that a lot. ]

Keep going - like this... beautiful...

[ eiden tightens his grip ever so slightly as p thrusts into his grip, a smile spreading over his lips as he enjoys the way his cock is taken root to tip over and over again, the ground beneath him slightly damp with dew and soaking into his fur and skin. he laughs as pinocchio pushes up against him again, propping his head up to kiss him.

he treats it slowly, indulgently, giving the other time to traverse the familiar and unfamiliar. eiden purely enjoys it, the tactility, the way p always feels like he means it. as he feels the spasming of his body, the prelude to release, eiden whines into his mouth, almost like he's wishing it wouldn't stop. one hand digs into his back as he holds fast to him as he rides, the other directing his cock to rut right up against his belly.

the resulting spend paints him, over his knuckles; warm, heaving skin, droplets flicked into his fur. eiden rumbles low in his throat in pleasure, his own body isn't far from his own release, breathing uneven as remains hard and hot inside of the other. ]

Fffuck... so close... [ laving warm and wet tongue against his face just before he can tuck it completely into his shoulder - ] You feel incredible.

[ instinct alone has him lifting a hand from the other's cock and licking his fingers clean in the space between them, his eyes heavy, hair slick with sweat as he quivers inside of him. he only comes when he turns to push his cheek against his own, fingers digging into him and thrusting in a steady rhythm, steady as a heartbeat before he spills inside of him, painting him hot white as he whines, thrusting slowly winding down as he gets lost nuzzling into him. ]

Hah... [ semi-hard still, squirming against his body. ] Something about... big words...?