【 Thank you for choosing the Golden Peacock, 5-star resort and casino. You are currently registered as a WILDCARD in our system.
Due to a high volume of check-ins, temporary accommodations have been made in our parking garage for all new arrivals. We aim to have all guests moved into their reserved rooms as soon as possible. We deeply apologize for any inconvenience!
All are invited to There Is No Tomorrow, a Phoenix Casino soiree to celebrate our beloved guests. The festivities will begin at 1800 hours on January 20th and end at 1800 hours on January 27th. Please look forward to 168 hours of delight.
In an effort to raise happiness and encourage better guest relationships, attendance is required. The house will assist guests that are too shy to appear of their own accord. Please note that black tie attire is mandatory. As always, we hope you enjoy your stay! 】
PARKING GARAGE
ANY CAR IN A STORM
PHOENIX CASINO HALL
WELCOME TO THE NEXT 168 HOURS
Phoenix Casino is a-flutter with activity and packed to the beak with guests. As a famously ever-changing space, the staff would be remiss if they didn't deck the crown jewel of the Golden Peacock out. The casino glitters from top to bottom, shining brighter than diamonds, rubies, sapphires, opals! Party-goers are shiny and glamorous with picture perfect makeup, fluttering gowns, and sharp suits. Card tables are packed and the slot machines are a-ringing as guests play, play, play! Prizes, luxury, booze, attractive people, it's the place that everyone wants to be at.
Those people being dragged inside by some invisible force...? Silly, they were so excited to come that their bodies moved before they realized what was happening. Those are struggles of joy and definitely not the casino's infamous ghost hands dragging unwilling guests to the party at the behest of the house. Look, they're literally hurling their bodies at the card tables with unrestrained glee!
All clocks indicating day hours and night hours have been removed from the casino. Once a guest has entered, their Watch will jam, making it impossible to keep track of the time. You don't need to worry about that tonight.
▶ 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 January event.
▶ 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. This month we also have an ongoing ATP / EMP where players can connect. Please feel free to utilize this for all of your peafowl needs!
▶ 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.
▶ 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.
[ w is a merc, which means she's been exposed to a whole hell of a lot. bloody, gruesome battles, raging, sleepless parties, and a thousand flavors of hedonistic delights, sure. all of it from a young enough age to ruin her forever.
but as much as she's a merc, she's never been a part of anything. ines and hoederer were always their own thing, and hoederer knew very well what mystique her codename brought with it, employing it to great effect. the result was that her reputation often preceded her well enough to make whatever job was on the table exceedingly easy, but apparently there was always the one drawback she's never really considered.
never HAD to consider. she's never wanted to be close to anyone and she's always known it's for the best that she never will be. and when your ideal has always been fucking theresa, the flawless, radiant king of sarkaz... it wasn't like she ever felt like she was missing out on anything either. there's never been anybody else like theresa and even now, w isn't about to start believing there's someone who could even try to compare, so why bother at all?
the thought of touching anyone in anything other than an act of violence makes her sick. and the thought of being touched... w jolts away from texas the second she extends her hand, as if the threat is there and real.
stupid. she's just showing her something. w mumbles a few sarkaz curses beneath her breath and takes a peek. ]
Real nice. They branded you like a burdenbeast.
[ oh, she's going to kill everyone responsible for that fucking mark. and then she'll hunt down their families, their children, end their bloodlines by her blade. she stares hatefully at the suit, and then blinks innocently up at texas. this is too heavy and serious, she needs to be a dick and smirk and comment: ]
I don't know, you seem pretty testy already. You sure you're not bugging right now?
(ugh. ignoring that comment on her being branded like a burdenbeast aside (the one on her seeming more testy than usual too) they had to focus. her losing her savings meant trouble. like if both troublemakers wind up in the basement like broca and aak did, someone needed to foot the bill. she's not dumb enough to assume otherwise about what may or may not happen, just because texas got the big shot suite doesn't mean she's going to be dumb. someone has to be useful, rake in the money while also hustling her ass off in whatever way she can manage. honestly if she can get rid of this mark? she would have, but since this is their means of keeping people in check, there's no other solution to that problem.
they needed to keep it satisfied, which means sex. no sex means it starts to flare and saturate. her suit activating twice has taught her that she doesn't want a third one (though she can't quite remember the second, only vaguely) for the sake of not being in constant danger of it. she's gotten to know a few people better, they'd worry like hell any time her mental state seems different from her usual. not exactly the sort of place texas can do her usual avoiding others bit at. or in truth, avoiding people until she had to socialize for her own sanity.
she's at the end of the day a lone wolf (there is no changing that, she can blend in all she wants, but that won't change) that comes and goes as she pleases. the people around her had picked up on it more than the girls from penguin logistics, that caught cellinia off guard. especially after one called her out recently by one person she got to know more about.
texas won't say anything, not now about it. the hateful glance of that spades mark told her that w was being w, not wanting to admit what she's thinking in a similar vein. ha, she might be a forerunner for heading into spades territory like texas did if she winds up at check-in. that's hard to say. given they're on the way to a more private room while the clock is ticking, they better make this count. nothing more than what needs to be done, texas has to use it on w after all, or else they're both in trouble.)
Chips are the main draw of these games, anyway. That's the currency for this hellhole, basic casino stuff with gambling or sex being what pays out typically.
[ are they headed to private rooms? w isn't exactly paying attention, trotting along by texas's lead, her mind busy with thoughts of casino chips and delights of the flesh and the sensation of one small, dainty hand clasped around her waist. ]
I could always blow that arm right off. Bet it's got a tracker in there too — better safe than sorry!
[ her sardonic grin and the ease with which she threatens bodily harm is like a screensaver, there to keep her moving while she's otherwise mentally occupied. five months is a long time to go with no food or water. texas had mentioned one safe place — but they presumably take these chips too, it's not a charity kitchen. even her own idea of chopping off bits of texas until their hold on her is severed is quickly discarded: she knows herself what she'd do the moment one of her devices was tampered with. holy hell would rain down, that's what.
so there's no way around it. she just needs to get comfortable with the idea — and, more importantly, act like she's always been comfortable with it. just like killing with the old crew, she'll never get any respect in this heap if she shows the slightest bit of hesitation.
she's still not putting a ring on anybody's cock, though. they'll have to do her something worse than dead for that. ]
So it's fucking or betting to stay afloat.
[ at least until she starts wringing necks and launches this whole sorry state of affairs into the fucking stratosphere. what a time for the revenant to up and run off on her! life's so unfair, but luckily for her, it's always been that way. ]
Great. Good thing those are my other two specialties. If we were gonna stay here longer, you probably wouldn't have to worry about anything. I could be your...
[ what's that phrase, she must have heard it like a thousand years ago. something with ingredients... ]
(she's being smart enough to take them there, texas has her head together enough despite what drinking she did to know that doing this in the open is....horrible. a horrible idea. she's not into voyeurism first off, second off? given the freaks around (not the actual players, but you get the idea) they shouldn't risk someone trying to join. limb loss is also not on her agenda, plus the watch itself seems unbreakable. nothing could destroy these damn things that everyone got fitted with. maybe the ai might also teach w how to read, for all texas knows, better than how some had it from her recollection of things posted on the network before they learned how to navigate more.
some could read, but not navigate modern tech. others were....yeah, others seemed like a lost cause to her. but texas says nothing else, she would thankfully keep to food and water at her own suite. she was meticulous about groceries when not eating at the red cardinal. luckily the water wasn't tampered with in the suites, either. which means that they're safe enough. more importantly, it also means that they got some manner of safety (as long as they're mindful) in this resort.
anything else would come naturally, but she's wondering to herself if she ought to try and send people to get to know the most anti-social operator of rhodes island. second thought, one person she's thinking about would be a bad idea if she got her hands on her. that flowery woman would likely turn her revenge drive into her entertainment.
she's also not buying that for a second, not about this being w's specialty.
fucking that is, gambling? sure, she could believe that. she's heard enough about her gambling and how risky that is; a lot of it being more betting her life, but for a sarkaz w has more lives than most. the devil's luck as it's called.)
That's right.
(wait.)
....you mean sugar mama?
(that. yeah, that was the actual term, not flour mama. so much for her seeming "cool" for the moment. texas did seem more stone faced than ever at that, the patented thousand yard stare included. not a mental image she wants, please and thank you.
who would trust w to be a sugar mama? she screams that vibe she'd turn it into her own entertainment for kicks by making it a sport. a bloodbath essentially, and not the kind that she dealt with over halloween.)
[ best be careful how you let on about having clean food and water in your suite, texas, lest you end up with a roach infestation.
either way, w bristles at the correction. sugar, flour, she doesn't even know the difference! she's responsible enough to be the water boiler, that's always been the exact limits of her job, the rest of the cooking shit is OBVIOUSLY left to pathetic men like hoederer who can't do anything else useful. with a huff, she exclaims: ]
That's what I fucking said! What's the point of having those huge, goofy ears if you can never make out a damn thing I say? Offer officially retracted.
[ gaslight gatekeep girlboss, you know how it is. at least it hurries w along in their short trek, inspiring her to pull ahead and swing open one of the doors that they're approaching, completely disregarding the silver plaque affixed to it. she's expecting another game room, maybe a private blackjack table or craps table, and indeed an attendant meets her at the door with a hand of four cards on offer. w barely pays her any mind, ripping out a card at random and throwing those heavy velvet curtains aside to clear her path. stupid texas, stupid peacock, stupid useless obstacles in her path.
through the moody lighting, w can make out a wall of private rooms but no game that she can really recognize. she sees other people roaming about the hideaway, comparing the cards they presumably collected at the door, and it occurs to her to tuck her own behind her back as she wheels around on her heels to face texas again. ]
I've got a nasty feeling about this place...
[ considering this whole place is a fucking nightmare. much as she can't accept that she's finally found herself in a situation she's in no way equipped to deal with — or assassinate her way out of — the wariness in her voice is very real. the way the people here are milling about and approaching others just doesn't sit right with her, and for now she's holding off the first patron that seems to take interest in their combined entrance with a lethal stare, but it's clear they've either got to move now or find a place to stash a corpse later. ]
(look, she's not judging. if she winds up with two unhinged women taking advantage of her rank, she might however start questioning her life decisions again. not like she hasn't during her stay. maybe also not quite giving a damn about what happens to this place, she's got enough of a brain to keep in mind that she isn't too interested in protecting the resort. just the people that she befriended.
(unfortunately that extends to aak too, kind of, until he starts trying to stick needles in her.)
but ignoring that, she's got a feeling that she might have dragged them into another game from trying to find somewhere not public for this stupid magic wand. based off the number of them, she's looking it over while also not quite paying much attention to the "gaslight, gatekeep, girlbossing" that w was attempting. no, she knows what she heard. she's just petty enough to do that with correcting when she feels like. not that she wants to be the responsible one with broca, but sometimes it falls on the two stoics who almost certainly want to just fade into the background while silently screaming.
whatever, they can do this while she also grabs a random card. if they can, they can get the toy used and that's that. it's not like texas is expecting pillow talk and intimate secrets or confessions. she's hardly the same way whenever it comes to these things, five months at the resort involved or not. she didn't look her card over when she grabs that; some of the guests also seem to be happily asking one another about what they wound up with.
maybe they should try sneaking up into the lounge? too late now, they're here and looks like some of them are almost certainly eyeing them. enough that texas also hid her own card, glaring in their direction to get the point across before turning her attention back to w. they'll need to deal with this, get in and out. they're not adding another game on this list of shit they're dealing with tonight.)
Come on, don't think we're following the rules of this one. Was trying to give us some space.
(doms and subs, right. because she wants to deal with more insanity tonight, they're both bound to just leave instead. they had time to find an actual spot to use that toy at before texas had a nasty surprise lurking from her suit flaring up thanks to the counter going down to a big, nasty, zero.)
[ like, w knows that it would blow their spot something awful if she was to vaporize someone here and now. despite what people say about her, she's actually very pragmatic when it comes to the dispatching of human lives, and there's seldom any reason at all to kill in the heat of the moment unless it's a life or death struggle to survive. obviously, that's not the case here at all.
but fuck if she isn't tempted every time some rando flashes eyes at texas. she's not getting as much attention, probably because it looks like she might snap at any moment, her left eye twitching with the impulse to lash out violently at every innocuous brush from strangers passing by, but that doesn't matter. right now, texas is as good as one of her men back home, the only real ally she's got in this place, and these mother fuckers are really encroaching on their ranks here.
the detonator turns out to be a gentleman clearing his throat for texas's attention. w whirls on him with the combined and very misplaced fury of all the myriad souls, her hands fluttering erratically through the air: ]
EYES ON THE FUCKING GROUND!! PLEASE, don't even dream about it, it'd be too pathetic and I'd have to put you out of your fucking misery right here and now.
[ if ines were here, she'd drive w directly up a wall taunting her about how tense she is. the one silver lining she has to cling to: no wicked psychic stepmother calling her out on all her shitty moods. instead, she bounds over to that wall of doors, cracking open the first one, impatiently ushering texas inside.
space. that's exactly what she needs: space, quiet, and to just not be dealing with any and all of this. she has to think and plan and figure out how to get her hands on some real weapons. and most of all, she needs people to stop looking at her and texas like they're trying to figure out what they can get outta them.
the door shut behind her, she leans against it and takes a big, deep breath. like hoederer taught her, in through the nose, out through the... ]
What?? What is it? Why do you keep looking at that watch?
[ should she be looking at hers? do more fresh hells still yet await her? ]
(should she say something? maybe she should say something? texas wasn't too surprised on one hand that someone is tense, that someone of course being w. she's already debating on what to do here given she has to watch the clock. the watch screen is lit up with that countdown to her doom, the timer was there to menacingly tell her to use the sex toy. so if she keeps looking at it? yeah, she's got every reason to worry, given they did go over the rules on these games. use it or lose your chips. along with greater consequences, from what that fine print says below.
she's got a guess or two on what that could mean from the way her spade mark burns like it's mocking her again.
they're not dealing with much right now while trying to find their way around. that is until w goes off yelling, the threats of violence causing texas to snap out of her distraction from the grim reality of the moment sinking in more. god help her. if she has to use the damn thing on w, can she please be put out her misery? she rather not use a magic wand on terra's most deadliest merc to ever walk the planet. she's going to consider it lucky that w did save her before dragging her into one of the rooms.
it's got the basics, a nice bed and seats. something luxurious for play time between the people that enter the hideaway. the awkward thing though, she almost winces from getting dragged out of her thoughts. shit.)
So....the magic wand has a catch, if I don't use it in four hours? I'm fixing to get hit with consequences and a drained bank account.
(she rather die right around now, please. she's thinking about it, and it's not as if she isn't useless. they're the ones that rolled the wheel or rather, had texas roll even if this is better than them winding up trying to figure out how to get off using a cockring when they're women.
which. also isn't good, given the clock now reads 02:45:50.
is she considering trying to throw it at someone and praying? probably, but she knows that she doesn't want to keep the damn thing. not after having to use it. why would she? she's not going to be that sort of person that collects sex toys from a roulette wheel of all damn things.
[ what a gorgeous, lush bed that w is never going nowhere near. she knows what this place is now, and the thought of the sort of fluids that are marinating around on there? yeah, absolutely not.
she's just fine right here hanging against the door, thanks!! her own watch is spared a glance; there doesn't seem to be a countdown of any kind, and it's mostly just ticking through what she's going to guess are informational points about the place they're at. none of it helpful toward any end she's contemplating or ready to accept, of course, so she gives up on that almost immediately.
just in time for it to register what texas means. a soft pffffft of air escapes her, her face crumpling as she tries and fails not to giggle herself in half. thanks, texas, she needed this brief flash of levity. ]
So what? I'll turn around. And believe me, I won't peek.
[ wouldn't be the worst she's overheard from a roommate/campmate/whatever. as long as she doesn't start reciting sarkaz poetry to that plastic wand, it won't even be close.
the most annoying thing is actually how easily they've cowed texas with this shit. she's not sure she's ever heard of anything more ridiculous than spinning a wheel and being forced to do something. it's not that she cares AT ALL about the actual element of texas herself, which is a true truth in the truest sense, but certainly no one in any world deserves to be pinned beneath the threat of an excised livelihood and freaky involuntary body horror. ]
(did she sound like she was disassociating again? yes, yes she is. from how her spade mark is burning, it's laughing at her again in mockery. she did glare at it from under her left glove, ugh. forced compliance was to make them behave, play along with the games. the house doesn't give a shit if you want to do it or not. this place forces discomfort on any soul that's stuck here, whether they want to embrace that or even go down swinging.
this wasn't a solo act that the toy demands, it's a duo act. so yes, no amateur wolf pornography going in the background with someone watching/listening, whatever.
the patented thousand yard stare says plenty, she does not want to do this and get hit by that nasty surprise. not after two suit activations. again, which causes that spade mark to burn. god, she wants to stick her hand in hot water and burn it than deal with that brat. she even did take her glove off to look it over, yikes, there's a bit of saturation to it which is also annoying her.
okay, so she got a bit of a laugh at cellinia's expense. the rest won't be so funny given she does have to use the damn thing. hope she's ready for texas being annoyed while using it depending!)
Who the hell are you calling a screamer? If I had to bet someone was a screamer, it's you.
(why. why does she have to open her mouth, but texas doesn't back down from these things. she's an escape artist and a runaway, sure, but she's not going to just shut up and let herself get mocked at a time like this. that stupid spade mark is agitating enough without it.)
[ oh right okay that's not so funny then. w's smile flickers, but...
five months, texas said. coming up on the fringes of the kazdel outlands, w knows that a regular old sarkaz like herself can't make it more than two months without food, a few scant weeks without water. she's not dumb, either, this was always in the back of her mind, the idea that she'll have to shut up and put out at least once until she's liberated them all from this place. for what a sham this whole operation is, it seems like they're pretty stringent on the rules and have the tech to enforce it.
her shoulders bump the door and she can already feel her spirit trying to leak right back out of it, but... she sort of got texas into this mess, didn't she? big fan of suffering though she is, she's never intended to cause any to texas. (her shining personality aside — it's just the way all sarkaz are, texas is right not to take her barbs too seriously.) if they wanna get out of here, they ALL need to help each other up, and...
like a candle in the wind, her smile keeps flickering, flickering, then brightens abruptly. ]
I'll take that bet.
[ her heart is hammering away at the pit of her throat, but it's no big deal. they'll just do it and move on, who cares? she's definitely not some pathetic sort of loser who puts a lot of stock in this sort of thing, it's whatever!! maybe now she kinda sorta wishes she'd asked hoederer how he'd managed to rip all those squealy noises out of ines in the night instead of dressing them down dirty for it in the morning, but she's w, she doesn't lose.
especially not to texas. if she's not backing down, w isn't either. she brushes the straps of her dress off her shoulders, letting it drape low as she takes one nearly-tentative step forward, her face burning hot enough to ignite the room. ]
(the red cardinal was useful for keeping herself full for a reason, enough visits causes jin mingming to recognize people. texas has been by often whenever she didn't feel like trying to cook again, cooking had taken her time to learn to do more of. she didn't want to live on the restaurant's food as a means of keeping herself safe, no matter the way that not every spot there has the worry of aphrodisiac laced food. they're fortunate that there's this. food and drinks can be obtained from one spot as long as anyone is willing to work for it. texas has worked often for her share, even doing deliveries to assist the red cardinal as needed.
she didn't ask for much, just food and something she can drink without issue. something that won't be laced, even if she did seem to be somewhat apologetic. this wasn't her idea of a good time. not dragging in someone else that didn't seem to want to do anything along these lines, either. she's got enough of a good head on her shoulders, but she knows w like herself isn't going to be completely upfront (texas has had five months to consider that) about these things. the sarkaz way of trading barbs was something that didn't faze her from the first time she heard it, up until now included.
her little bet aside, she did that without thinking. half from that spade mark being active due to the timer ticking, other half because she's always been this way. texas doesn't back down from challenges. not easily, this counts as one such moment for her: since the whole screamer remark was enough to light that fire.
a bet might be....easier for this, give a reason for them to not feel as awkward or irritated. or whatever w is feeling before turning her attention at the toy briefly. it should have decent settings.)
Almost? How about, if you're not a screamer, I'll pay for your meals at the Red Cardinal for a week.
(look, she's not very good at this either. it's texas. texas who can't flirt worth shit on her good days unless she's not even trying. don't ask her how she has people "rizzed" up by her for being herself. but texas is also charming (for someone that feels like people are talking to a brick wall) enough in using her words. she knows how to talk and knows how to walk. knows how to play a good game while maintaining her own speed when she has to.
if she's looking at w's shoulders, no, no she isn't. stupid spade mark. well, whatever. she'll do this when she reaches to unbutton the golden buttons on this suit jacket and set aside. a black vest and white button up shirt was on underneath it. she came prepared seems like for the event, wearing something that she can easily remove with the thicker layers while having something comfortable on under them.
she's not so stupid to assume that the resort wouldn't have pushed something on her eventually throughout the night.)
[ what a way to sign away her own body. not that it matters much, she knows she's a sick, twisted sarkaz, polluted with rage and disease and an ancestral cruelty that borders on psychosis. she should have died ages ago, it's just her luck that she's lived long enough to backslide right to start.
scraping and scrounging and doing anything she's got to in order to survive. nothing ever changes, not even with all the power in the world. there's always some unexpected variable waiting in the wings to blow it all away, like it was nothing more than a dream.
well. this isn't really the same. as far as trust goes, w harbors some semblance of it for texas. she knows her as dependable, which goes a long way for any sarkaz, and she's pretty certain texas wouldn't be the type to flap her gums and announce to the first moron she sees that she's banged w, of all people. probably mostly because she wouldn't want to admit it herself. she doesn't even particularly want to crawl out of her skin when texas removes her coat. her stupid monotonous voice is pretty soothing on her overworked, over-fraught nerves. if it has to be anyone...
her skirt billows high as she leans over to roll her tights down her thighs. they'd be the perfect length to hang herself with right now, but unfortunately she definitely wants to live long enough to see theresis vaporized, so they instead become a lasso she can loop around texas's shoulders and pull her closer by. ]
And if I do...
[ at least she's enough of assassin to know how to steady her fingers no matter how much the stakes are weighing down upon her. she undoes the buttons of texas's vest just about as quick as she can pull a trigger. ]
Not likely, but I guess you can use me for whatever sick, twisted scenarios you get yourself roped into for that same amount of time.
(that's the helpful thing, texas isn't the type of girl to kiss and tell (or in this case, fuck and tell) about anyone she's been with. she hasn't slept with that many people in the resort, that was more from necessity. enough to last for the time being while carrying on. sex was a transaction there to most people, even to those that are dating someone. though that was more from them carrying open relationships for the sake of not losing out on chances to earn more chips and cards. she thought this might be better for her, texas has had time to adjust in retrospect. the wolf was good at that and making things work by rolling with them; dependable to a fault while even being able to handle herself in a fight.
or in this case, helping someone survive. w would get chips to work after this if she were checked-in. cellinia's card, too. having a card banked back for later is a good start for this hellhole, not that she started with one in her bank. but, one would get the idea.
she's got a stoic tone, low and soft. something soothing when she can purr it out for someone that's supposed to be a canine. attractive when she wants to be, given that she cleans up nicely. her hat and cane were left off to the side, don't ask how she can pull off a look like this. with a top hat and a walking stick of all damn things like she's some kind of rich big shot again as an heiress. that's far from true, she's not the heiress any longer and this isn't necessarily something she would have done back then, either. not even during the carneval. besides, they're both objectively a pair of misfits. and maybe she can admit w can look attractive.
not that they're one another's types, but it's a thought. that's good enough. good enough that she found her attention on w again after the tights go around her neck, her shoulders, and pull cellinia close. she's got her attention, amber eyes lit up in the dim lights in this room. good, she didn't need much to focus on the now.
plus it shut up that brat of a spade mark she has.)
Lucky you, I don't always go around getting myself in chaos.
(does this count as terrible flirting? yeah, probably. not that texas couldn't, she just was better suited for sticking her sword in something or someone that got in her way. she's still made for a fight, made for a battlefield more than some sex casino.
....that and at least she trusts w enough, that's something else. somehow she always finds the unpredictable people can be more reliable than those that are sane, but that's because she's by no means normal herself.)
[ big talk from someone who only has a few scant inches on texas. she's gotta cling to what she's got here, which isn't much at all. she just knows that if texas is mildly annoyed with her, it's her best bet for getting through this without having to make any embarrassing confessions. it's always better to be the recipient of anger than mockery — or worse, getting caught looking vulnerable.
that's simply not an option. she's got texas's attention, good, she'll divert it right down to her chest, where her breasts are threatening to spill out from the too-tight bra they stuffed her in at the door. it's not like she doesn't know exactly how to lean to make an underwire buckle and forfeit an already losing battle. she undoes the last button on texas's shirt and pushes the fabric aside, helping her roll it off her shoulders.
not the worst shoulders. much better she'd have expected without those flashy accoutrements. her tongue rolls over her lips thoughtfully. ]
But I guess you could just use me.
[ thank fuck texas isn't overly handsy or w isn't sure how she'd deal with it. it's just the low tones of her voice and the rising warmth of her body as w unwraps her like an unexpected gift, letting her take her time and absorb that this is really about to happen. her red-lacquered nails sail over one of the faded scars on texas's torso, but don't touch. they curl around texas's shoulder instead, urging her back against the door where she can hike one leg up around texas's waist.
and there it is. it's the last thing she wants to say to anybody who isn't theresa, but if she doesn't say it now, she'll lose her nerve. better to do it while there's this warm glow flickering inside her at the sight of her chest pressed flush against texas's. her hips lift urgently, her leg tightening. ]
(little. she can admit that, she's not that tall. it is slightly funny to picture someone like w saying this whenever she isn't the picture of a tall and dainty sarkaz with a grenade launcher. no, no need to say anything on that. she's rolling with it naturally. she can be good at keeping up with the uptake, most things aren't hard to work with when she can separate how she's feeling from what she's doing. vulnerability is not the easiest part of this, not with intimacy. she's not good at that and always has known it. about like how getting anything from texas about her history is like pulling teeth, she doesn't speak openly about things that should stay buried.
not the way some might like. that doesn't need to be her focus, she did notice it. her breasts threatening to spill out whenever the cool breeze of the room touches her skin. she's running hot, but that's not unexpected. flashy isn't always her style, not the furs or the lapels that came with it. that cape she was stuck wearing until she found herself liberated of it.
the drop of it, her dress shirt and vest, felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. the scars are numerous, but that's not surprising. the familiga life does this often. so does her work as an armed courier, typically. she's not the handsy type, that's for the best. most texas does is gauge her partners reactions to get an idea on how they might respond to it. she's not the best at it yet, but she's getting there and had a feeling a bit slow wouldn't be a bad idea to not push her out her comfort zone. that's how texas is with physical touch, even if she was being pushed more to accept it by people in her life that would get touchy-feely.)
....guess it couldn't hurt to include that for my end if you win, too, that you can use me.
(she needs to keep herself focused, even with them backed up against the door. she's pressed against w when her leg hooks itself around her waist, amber eyes drift in thought before wetting her lips a bit. what the hell, why not? w's been dealing with nerves at an all-time from the resort, texas has been frustrated about being forced to attend that party they're stuck dealing with. they can make this work and pretend after whether it was nice or not that nothing happened.
that is if they do pretend when that little urgent plea hits her, so she wishes then. texas doesn't say anything more, not whenever one hand finds itself on the thigh that so helpfully rests around her waist. the gloved one, but that can change in a bit while her left one reaches to help free her breasts from that tight bra and dress. as best as she can (mind you, she is still holding that toy) while preoccupied with running her lips along w's neck. )
[ it's a wild offer to make to someone who isn't sure what to do with her now. sure, w could pick out a trillion pressure points she could depress and stab to bring her to her knees, she could wrap her hands around her throat or tear with her teeth and bleed her by a thousand cuts — that's easy stuff, as rote to her as breathing. this is a whole different realm of putting her hands on someone, and she doesn't remember feeling this lost the first time she put someone to sleep forever. (ah, the good old days.)
if she knows how to flirt, it's only because she enjoys taunting people with things they'll never have. it should ruin the fun now that texas is definitely going to have her, and indeed she stiffens just for a moment at the slide of that gloved hand over her thigh, her lips rolling over her flashing teeth instinctively, her flesh exploding with the texture of goosebumps. that impulse to push away, though, to claw and fight and keep texas from getting a good grip on her is quieter than she'd expected it to be. maybe it's the cool leather skidding across her heated skin, or that relieved gasp when the pressure constricting her chest is finally loosened that drowns the worst of it away.
but those lips against her throat — she's never been more aware that texas is a lupo. she shouldn't let this happen, texas could tear her throat out with her teeth in the blink of an eye, and it's too much to think that she can feel w's erratic pulse against her lips. if only she didn't feel like she was melting most of all, a soft purr hidden and muted in the very pit of her throat, her fingers scrambling for purchase and clutching at the front of texas's bra. ]
Wasn't that the plan?
[ it's a joke, but w can barely make it more than a breathy hum in response. maybe she's not as lost as she thought she was. her hands slide easy enough beneath the cup of the bra and squeeze into soft flesh; her other hand works between them, unthreading texas's belt, popping the buttons beneath it. they probably don't need to both be stripped down for this, but like hell she's about to be the only one. ]
(at least if she did wind up on the floor and about to be faced with a good ol' fashion sarkaz blood rage, she knows that she did in fact sign up for that as a possibility. not the kind that anyone sane goes near. but that's the other thing, she knows not to rush. when someone is about as combative as w (and really, texas to a mild degree) there's nothing worse than what one can do by rushing a little too fast before she's ready. control should stay with the one that needs it, that's the part that texas has learned during her time at the resort. better than what some would have thought.
she doesn't latch those teeth down, she teases with them in nips and nibbles. almost like a pup. she knows better than to bite down when it's unwanted for someone that happens to enjoy covering her partners in teeth marks, as she's begun to learn about herself. that might be more the baser instincts of lupo talking, but she's keeping an eye on w. she's still a sarkaz and can easily snap them into being on the floor from their positioning.
something to ease that tension. nothing would help them if w winds up too tightly without letting out some of that frustration and more she's feeling.
texas can handle her own, but that's nothing new. she might shut down on occasion when it worsens, but she's starting to get there more in that regard, too. her bra is a nice black and silk one. pleasant to touch, run ones fingers along smoothly when she slips out a breathy sigh of her own at her breast being squeezed. her gloved hand does the same to w's thigh. the leather of them against bare skin must feel interesting, if w wasn't demanding that glove off yet.)
True....
(she caught the tone, thankfully, in how she hums that out between nips. texas does know that was already on the table as a necessity. she's the one with the chips and somewhere for people to crash at when they had to. her belt coming undone catches her attention, sure, they both didn't need to strip, but she's not minding. it's easier to move whenever they're not....distracted, to put it lightly. being against the door with this might get uncomfortable even if texas has made things work whenever possible.)
[ it's either a mercy or a bizarre new form of cruelty, those teeth against her throat. w's heart could explode every time one of those nips doesn't end in shredded flesh, and it's not like repetition is any comfort. she'd trust texas to bring messages to some of her most seasoned, talented men hidden away on the battlefield, but she'll never trust anyone not to want to kill her eventually. not with this personality.
but she can't say the danger of it all doesn't make her blood sing. maybe someday when she isn't ready to cut a bitch at the drop of a hat she'll even ask for texas to show her how sharp those teeth can really be. for now, it's just exciting, same as it is when her hands squeeze and texas sighs, when texas squeezes into the meat of her thigh and w loses her mind for a split second and feels her panties dampen. the warring bodily power of it all is as fascinating as it is intoxicating.
anyway, she likes it here against the door, climbing texas like a siracusan sapling. there's a nice dull thud to make when she lets texas's trousers fall free and tangles her fingers in the fabric beneath them and snaps her hips forward eagerly, rattling the door on its hinges. an even nicer sound when her fingers fold across texas's forehead to shove her head back, so she can bow her own and repeat the same routine down texas's chest, mirroring those slow, careful nips when she gets to her breasts. the taste of her is like a drug, exhilarating in that forbidden and dangerous kind of way, and it isn't long before she finds a nipple to worry between those needling teeth of hers.
she'll push down the remnants of her dress when she can. it's not a pretty sight: there's that cavernous web of scar tissue across her torso where she was fatally gored before babel swept her up into the sky, her flesh so busy with old burns and battle scars besides. no signs of oripathy lesions, oddly enough, but she's a sarkaz and definitely diseased. at least she's distracted enough to feel divorced from whatever texas might think — she's lucky to even be here to see this, honestly, anyone else who's ever seen this much of her skin isn't around to tell any tales about it now. but the bridge of w's nose still burns pink as her dress pools at their feet and the cool air of the room deepens the shivers thrumming through her shoulders. ]
(teeth like hers can do plenty to a neck, and texas doesn't have the most dangerous set of a lupo. no, that distinction is likely belonging to another. it didn't make them any less frightening to any unsuspecting poor bastards that learned the hard way she knows how to use them. the one thing is that she can be trusted to not want to kill her as long as texas herself isn't betrayed, that's a fact that remains. betrayals are responded in kind. she's done that in columbia to her father, she'd do it again if she has to. nothing personal in it. but from her own view point, this is how she's always operated.
however, it is also is tempting to respond that day she gets asked to just show. she can't bite down deep enough to draw blood is the unfortunate thing, didn't mean she couldn't make someone infected or not into a pin cushion from the sheer number of teeth marks she can give if allowed to let loose. that's the other thing about texas, poking that sleeping wolf in her meant someone was in for a ride. didn't matter if it's like now or not, the settings on the wand should be fine. it's not like she'll start full power knowing it's a massager at its core. texas learned that the hard way whenever she tried that personally herself (not her finest moment) not to assume that much about them.
against the door it is, then, is something texas thinks briefly to herself. she would have kept going to try finding any particularly sensitive spots on her neck, somewhere she could tease more, if not for the interruption when her head is pushed back. the pressing of their hips together once her trousers drop to the floor. all she has left is those tights and black silk panties. she doesn't need to say anything, but she did notice those scars. worse than her own. the only one that seemed life-threatening had it gone deeper is from a familiar blade. along her hip to her stomach, a gift before she left columbia and siracusa. on the bright side (not that she'd admit this out loud) she doesn't find w's body repulsive.
she has no room to talk, not even to judge. not in the sighs she lets out, the shiver running down her at her nipple being toyed with from teeth. seems her enjoyment of turning her partners into pin cushions goes both ways, again, not that she'd say it. a grind of her hips is against w's for that, a rut (not entirely) while texas rubs into her thigh. she's distracted thoroughly, but checking to see if the toy is set to low. thankfully it is, otherwise she would have wanted to strangle whoever runs this resort more for giving a magic wand with one setting.
....not the worse thing she can bet that someone would want to kill the house over.)
[ it really seems like this shouldn't be going as well as it is. if w was going to pick this kind of trouble with anyone, it should have been some bloody, savage thing, not nosing around in so much warm skin, suckling her mouth full and rich with that addictive taste. she could get lost again, and maybe she is, so preoccupied with devouring texas's breasts and enduring the roll of her hips that she could almost miss it when she starts to mess with that awful plastic wand.
w expects, no matter what, that texas will eventually want to kill her, and that this will hurt. as well it should: life is suffering. she's heard ines sob a trillion times for whatever hoederer does to her in their tent, and she knows well enough from the war that shit like this can be devastating. there's no reason she can figure that it shouldn't be that way for her.
and now that she sizes that wand against the whole of her naked body — it's huge and sounds powerful. she can't take her eyes off it, her head lifting off texas's chest to track its movements. the soft buzz of it already makes her skin crawl, and for a moment, her hips steady and stop. she begins to maybe sort of regret her dedication to doing this against the door.
but she's no fainting little bitch. much as her stomach is sick with the threat of the unknown, she's not about to back down when it's texas. her fingers lock around the back of texas's neck, her gaze burning as she growls: ]
Fuckin' do it.
[ tear her apart with that thing, or whatever. what's a massage? the word almost certainly doesn't exist in sarkaz, where people toil til they drop from their muscles snapping, where every innocuous thing is expected to draw blood and spread agony. a word like that could mean a litany of terrifying anythings, and w's gone tense again though she's doing her level best to play it off, like she's now fully invested in pulling down texas's tights halfway with her hands, the rest of the way with a rubbing ankle. ]
(it's not like texas wouldn't disagree to bloody and savage, there's always that part of her that would have been stuck in the violence of siracusa. not as deep as some people. the others that were in a way still locked into the familige and other things that were miserable within the country; who wants to be used as fodder for a constant game of one-upmanship? rule the country her ass, zaaro could have killed her when she made that deal with him had she been any less useful.
but this is addicting enough, it can feel like living while trapped here.
it can work. sometimes a girl needs to let her mind go and far be it for her to complain about providing that, it won't stay sweet and gentle. there's no input from that annoyance on her hand, that just means that she didn't have to focus on it deciding to flare and talk whatever shit it felt like. must be because she's feeding it. ugh, but she does understand this. not even from the things she's done while stuck there. some part of her considers it lucky she didn't try hunting people to go after them for her needs as a stupid werewolf. she was a mindless beast at the time, mindless and hungering. demanding. maybe her body wants something similar to that again with the sensation of not thinking about anything. just rutting, fucking, whatever.
she did half think they could move (honestly that would have been better) even if they've come this far. she expects her back to be scratched up, based off what she knows. hard enough to draw blood and leave whatever cuts w damn well pleases on her. texas herself? she has to keep her steady, she knows that much. help keep her steady, don't breathe a damn word after this like she intends when the low buzz is there filling the air.)
Keep a good grip on me.
(she totally expects if she intensifies it that it won't be a good idea, if she pumps it up then it'd be on w's request. okay. with that said (and her tights dropping to the floor) texas isn't speedy about it just in case to keep giving her that idea of being in control as needed. not with bringing the wand near, not with pressing the top of the massager against w's panties, right around where her clit would be at. she'll have to see what her back looks like after.
[ w shouldn't need to grip at anybody. she's the deadliest merc, worth at least ten candies on the scale before the guy who was doing the accounting got bodied by his own potential son-in-law. it's not like she hasn't been through agonizing, mind-twisting things before and stood strong all on her own, there's no reason at all to heed texas's warning.
she just wants to, the moment that wand is on the move. she'd thought her panties would have to come off for this — not so it seems, because texas isn't giving her any further directions. there's just the sound of buzzing sinking low between them, and then...
that's fucking it. w doesn't even get it at first, her fists balled against the back of texas's neck for no good reason, gaze locked on hers in what was unshakeable determination and has slowly succumbed to pure confusion. nothing about this has sucked so far, if anything, it's the opposite, and it's just something w doesn't get. ]
... Oh.
[ and then she feels it, a twist of texas's hand to set it right against a spot that flares beneath that buzzing. right, that spot, it's not as if w is such a terrible prude she's never played with herself before. it's soft and gentle enough that it isn't immediately alarming; her body takes care of that part, her breath huffing hot against texas's chest as she begins to pant, her face flooding with heat. she really needs to find a hole to crawl in and die for the mistake of letting texas see her like this. she feels so warm suddenly and her first impulse is to pull away, but stubbornness keeps her fast in place, and now there's something else compelling her to drive harder against it, smothering the wand between their bodies.
her teeth grit hard, locking in a word that was almost texas's name. the bet was that she can't scream, and she doesn't particularly want to yet, but how mortifying would it be to make any other noise? it really doesn't matter when that heat keeps building and she needs to breathe through it, her jaw yawning open to emit a shattered whisper: ]
(see, she would have taken them off, but texas did consider another thing. this won't be something she's used to, using the fabric of her panties as a buffer was a better idea. she's not going to say anything about what happens between now and after. w has that much to bet on from her, that texas won't break her silence on whatever the hell they wind up doing if it turns into them using this room for longer. not like the other guests in the hideaway would interrupt.
they're far too scared after the earlier display from w, and from texas glaring like she would have torn their throats out with her teeth.
not that she would, but the sentiment was there. vulnerability is what she hates putting herself through, so what good would bringing it up after do? the bet was more to help. seems like it did, from the way that way her fists balled up and how w resisted that urge to scream. half saying her name, half not. the whisper was enough to tell texas she made the better choice in using the fabric of her panties to act as a layer between it and her clit. pressing it on her bare clit might have very well caused a near loss, especially if she did get told to turn up the settings any.
their bodies near pressing more together is driving her mad, that stupid spade mark almost laughs again. as usual, it's mocking her. whatever, she didn't need to get off. not any time soon. she'll be okay, this isn't her needing it for anything more than them trying to prevent what would be big consequences if she doesn't play the game. even if w might not be able to spend those chips she'll get from this, that's also fine. it's still pocket money for when she has her own time.
chump change as some might view it, but in this hellhole people struggle all the damn time. herself included, so she wants to meet some of that determination with her own by seeing it through. w being stubborn was the other helpful thing, she would have stopped had she needed to with using it for a time if w couldn't endure it for now. nothing, no comments on her expression or how mortifying this must be. she's not the sort to tease or that kind of woman to torture someone on the receiving end of something like a wand of all things. maybe they should be happier it wasn't one of those clit suckers.
now that would have made texas want to throw it into the crowd, she hasn't used those, but she's seen them around the love dove. often with a terrified expression. like hell she would want to put someone that hasn't seemed to have touched herself if any before through that. or that's her assumption, the scent of arousal is thick enough a lupo like her can smell it from there.)
Easy....I won't turn it up past this unless you're really sure.
(because this was partially, cellinia's fault for obtaining that stupid wand.)
[ it's definitely not that w can't endure this, even as the sensitivity of her body ramps up to an astonishing degree and she starts to feel the solid, electric pulses of the toy reverberating so deep inside her now aching cunt. obviously her body likes it. maybe too much.
she's been curious, sure, but she's never, ever made it here. panting, mindlessly rutting, her mind abuzz with the sensations, so fever-hot she's practically melting down texas's chest. if she were alone, she'd probably give up right here, horrified at how quickly her body needs and demands more, but it should be worse that she's not. she should hate that more.
texas's voice could be another vibration that she rides to wherever the fuck it is she's going. her skin is just as warm, and surprisingly soft too when w's stonelocked jaw brings her whole head down into a bow against it. the scent of her, the feeling of those strong shoulders beneath her clutching hands, they've turned enchanting in their own right when w wasn't paying attention. a part of her wishes she'd touched texas more before she demanded this.
as for those nails — never believe everything you've heard. w's nails are chewed to meager little stubs and largely harmless, even as they skitter frantically over texas's skin. the worst damage they do is to tangle in the hair at the base of her neck, pulling when w's body is wracking itself with heavy, sob-like breaths. ]
Don't you dare— [ her toothlessly rasped snarl is broken by a sharp gasp. ] — go easy on me.
[ it's maybe too late to start running her mouth about that; she's already trembling all over, her thighs doused and dripping from where the toy is spreading along her wetness. even through her panties. she really can't catch her breath suddenly, can't stop pulling harder and harder at texas's hair, and much as she loathes when her body does anything she hasn't commanded it to, there's no stopping this too-quick rising of tension between her thighs.
it feels too good and the sounds it's ripping from her are worse than mortifying. the bet was she couldn't scream, there weren't any other rules beyond that. flush-faced and spilling right over the edge, she can lean into all that inviting skin and suckle at texas's tit until her mouth's plugged full and come so hard it blacks out her vision. all this flesh is her one anchor while she drifts in and out.
turns out the screamy part comes after. texas neglected to mention that, not that there's any reason she should have. that sensitivity keeps climbing and her face crumples in something close to pain, her hips stuttering, automatically backing her off the toy no matter what an example she's trying to make here. if it feels like a defeat, w's finally too fucked out to care. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
goldmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
no subject
but as much as she's a merc, she's never been a part of anything. ines and hoederer were always their own thing, and hoederer knew very well what mystique her codename brought with it, employing it to great effect. the result was that her reputation often preceded her well enough to make whatever job was on the table exceedingly easy, but apparently there was always the one drawback she's never really considered.
never HAD to consider. she's never wanted to be close to anyone and she's always known it's for the best that she never will be. and when your ideal has always been fucking theresa, the flawless, radiant king of sarkaz... it wasn't like she ever felt like she was missing out on anything either. there's never been anybody else like theresa and even now, w isn't about to start believing there's someone who could even try to compare, so why bother at all?
the thought of touching anyone in anything other than an act of violence makes her sick. and the thought of being touched... w jolts away from texas the second she extends her hand, as if the threat is there and real.
stupid. she's just showing her something. w mumbles a few sarkaz curses beneath her breath and takes a peek. ]
Real nice. They branded you like a burdenbeast.
[ oh, she's going to kill everyone responsible for that fucking mark. and then she'll hunt down their families, their children, end their bloodlines by her blade. she stares hatefully at the suit, and then blinks innocently up at texas. this is too heavy and serious, she needs to be a dick and smirk and comment: ]
I don't know, you seem pretty testy already. You sure you're not bugging right now?
no subject
(ugh. ignoring that comment on her being branded like a burdenbeast aside (the one on her seeming more testy than usual too) they had to focus. her losing her savings meant trouble. like if both troublemakers wind up in the basement like broca and aak did, someone needed to foot the bill. she's not dumb enough to assume otherwise about what may or may not happen, just because texas got the big shot suite doesn't mean she's going to be dumb. someone has to be useful, rake in the money while also hustling her ass off in whatever way she can manage. honestly if she can get rid of this mark? she would have, but since this is their means of keeping people in check, there's no other solution to that problem.
they needed to keep it satisfied, which means sex. no sex means it starts to flare and saturate. her suit activating twice has taught her that she doesn't want a third one (though she can't quite remember the second, only vaguely) for the sake of not being in constant danger of it. she's gotten to know a few people better, they'd worry like hell any time her mental state seems different from her usual. not exactly the sort of place texas can do her usual avoiding others bit at. or in truth, avoiding people until she had to socialize for her own sanity.
she's at the end of the day a lone wolf (there is no changing that, she can blend in all she wants, but that won't change) that comes and goes as she pleases. the people around her had picked up on it more than the girls from penguin logistics, that caught cellinia off guard. especially after one called her out recently by one person she got to know more about.
texas won't say anything, not now about it. the hateful glance of that spades mark told her that w was being w, not wanting to admit what she's thinking in a similar vein. ha, she might be a forerunner for heading into spades territory like texas did if she winds up at check-in. that's hard to say. given they're on the way to a more private room while the clock is ticking, they better make this count. nothing more than what needs to be done, texas has to use it on w after all, or else they're both in trouble.)
Chips are the main draw of these games, anyway. That's the currency for this hellhole, basic casino stuff with gambling or sex being what pays out typically.
no subject
I could always blow that arm right off. Bet it's got a tracker in there too — better safe than sorry!
[ her sardonic grin and the ease with which she threatens bodily harm is like a screensaver, there to keep her moving while she's otherwise mentally occupied. five months is a long time to go with no food or water. texas had mentioned one safe place — but they presumably take these chips too, it's not a charity kitchen. even her own idea of chopping off bits of texas until their hold on her is severed is quickly discarded: she knows herself what she'd do the moment one of her devices was tampered with. holy hell would rain down, that's what.
so there's no way around it. she just needs to get comfortable with the idea — and, more importantly, act like she's always been comfortable with it. just like killing with the old crew, she'll never get any respect in this heap if she shows the slightest bit of hesitation.
she's still not putting a ring on anybody's cock, though. they'll have to do her something worse than dead for that. ]
So it's fucking or betting to stay afloat.
[ at least until she starts wringing necks and launches this whole sorry state of affairs into the fucking stratosphere. what a time for the revenant to up and run off on her! life's so unfair, but luckily for her, it's always been that way. ]
Great. Good thing those are my other two specialties. If we were gonna stay here longer, you probably wouldn't have to worry about anything. I could be your...
[ what's that phrase, she must have heard it like a thousand years ago. something with ingredients... ]
Flour... mama.
no subject
(she's being smart enough to take them there, texas has her head together enough despite what drinking she did to know that doing this in the open is....horrible. a horrible idea. she's not into voyeurism first off, second off? given the freaks around (not the actual players, but you get the idea) they shouldn't risk someone trying to join. limb loss is also not on her agenda, plus the watch itself seems unbreakable. nothing could destroy these damn things that everyone got fitted with. maybe the ai might also teach w how to read, for all texas knows, better than how some had it from her recollection of things posted on the network before they learned how to navigate more.
some could read, but not navigate modern tech. others were....yeah, others seemed like a lost cause to her. but texas says nothing else, she would thankfully keep to food and water at her own suite. she was meticulous about groceries when not eating at the red cardinal. luckily the water wasn't tampered with in the suites, either. which means that they're safe enough. more importantly, it also means that they got some manner of safety (as long as they're mindful) in this resort.
anything else would come naturally, but she's wondering to herself if she ought to try and send people to get to know the most anti-social operator of rhodes island. second thought, one person she's thinking about would be a bad idea if she got her hands on her. that flowery woman would likely turn her revenge drive into her entertainment.
she's also not buying that for a second, not about this being w's specialty.
fucking that is, gambling? sure, she could believe that. she's heard enough about her gambling and how risky that is; a lot of it being more betting her life, but for a sarkaz w has more lives than most. the devil's luck as it's called.)
That's right.
(wait.)
....you mean sugar mama?
(that. yeah, that was the actual term, not flour mama. so much for her seeming "cool" for the moment. texas did seem more stone faced than ever at that, the patented thousand yard stare included. not a mental image she wants, please and thank you.
who would trust w to be a sugar mama? she screams that vibe she'd turn it into her own entertainment for kicks by making it a sport. a bloodbath essentially, and not the kind that she dealt with over halloween.)
no subject
either way, w bristles at the correction. sugar, flour, she doesn't even know the difference! she's responsible enough to be the water boiler, that's always been the exact limits of her job, the rest of the cooking shit is OBVIOUSLY left to pathetic men like hoederer who can't do anything else useful. with a huff, she exclaims: ]
That's what I fucking said! What's the point of having those huge, goofy ears if you can never make out a damn thing I say? Offer officially retracted.
[ gaslight gatekeep girlboss, you know how it is. at least it hurries w along in their short trek, inspiring her to pull ahead and swing open one of the doors that they're approaching, completely disregarding the silver plaque affixed to it. she's expecting another game room, maybe a private blackjack table or craps table, and indeed an attendant meets her at the door with a hand of four cards on offer. w barely pays her any mind, ripping out a card at random and throwing those heavy velvet curtains aside to clear her path. stupid texas, stupid peacock, stupid useless obstacles in her path.
through the moody lighting, w can make out a wall of private rooms but no game that she can really recognize. she sees other people roaming about the hideaway, comparing the cards they presumably collected at the door, and it occurs to her to tuck her own behind her back as she wheels around on her heels to face texas again. ]
I've got a nasty feeling about this place...
[ considering this whole place is a fucking nightmare. much as she can't accept that she's finally found herself in a situation she's in no way equipped to deal with — or assassinate her way out of — the wariness in her voice is very real. the way the people here are milling about and approaching others just doesn't sit right with her, and for now she's holding off the first patron that seems to take interest in their combined entrance with a lethal stare, but it's clear they've either got to move now or find a place to stash a corpse later. ]
no subject
(look, she's not judging. if she winds up with two unhinged women taking advantage of her rank, she might however start questioning her life decisions again. not like she hasn't during her stay. maybe also not quite giving a damn about what happens to this place, she's got enough of a brain to keep in mind that she isn't too interested in protecting the resort. just the people that she befriended.
(unfortunately that extends to aak too, kind of, until he starts trying to stick needles in her.)
but ignoring that, she's got a feeling that she might have dragged them into another game from trying to find somewhere not public for this stupid magic wand. based off the number of them, she's looking it over while also not quite paying much attention to the "gaslight, gatekeep, girlbossing" that w was attempting. no, she knows what she heard. she's just petty enough to do that with correcting when she feels like. not that she wants to be the responsible one with broca, but sometimes it falls on the two stoics who almost certainly want to just fade into the background while silently screaming.
whatever, they can do this while she also grabs a random card. if they can, they can get the toy used and that's that. it's not like texas is expecting pillow talk and intimate secrets or confessions. she's hardly the same way whenever it comes to these things, five months at the resort involved or not. she didn't look her card over when she grabs that; some of the guests also seem to be happily asking one another about what they wound up with.
maybe they should try sneaking up into the lounge? too late now, they're here and looks like some of them are almost certainly eyeing them. enough that texas also hid her own card, glaring in their direction to get the point across before turning her attention back to w. they'll need to deal with this, get in and out. they're not adding another game on this list of shit they're dealing with tonight.)
Come on, don't think we're following the rules of this one. Was trying to give us some space.
(doms and subs, right. because she wants to deal with more insanity tonight, they're both bound to just leave instead. they had time to find an actual spot to use that toy at before texas had a nasty surprise lurking from her suit flaring up thanks to the counter going down to a big, nasty, zero.)
no subject
but fuck if she isn't tempted every time some rando flashes eyes at texas. she's not getting as much attention, probably because it looks like she might snap at any moment, her left eye twitching with the impulse to lash out violently at every innocuous brush from strangers passing by, but that doesn't matter. right now, texas is as good as one of her men back home, the only real ally she's got in this place, and these mother fuckers are really encroaching on their ranks here.
the detonator turns out to be a gentleman clearing his throat for texas's attention. w whirls on him with the combined and very misplaced fury of all the myriad souls, her hands fluttering erratically through the air: ]
EYES ON THE FUCKING GROUND!! PLEASE, don't even dream about it, it'd be too pathetic and I'd have to put you out of your fucking misery right here and now.
[ if ines were here, she'd drive w directly up a wall taunting her about how tense she is. the one silver lining she has to cling to: no wicked psychic stepmother calling her out on all her shitty moods. instead, she bounds over to that wall of doors, cracking open the first one, impatiently ushering texas inside.
space. that's exactly what she needs: space, quiet, and to just not be dealing with any and all of this. she has to think and plan and figure out how to get her hands on some real weapons. and most of all, she needs people to stop looking at her and texas like they're trying to figure out what they can get outta them.
the door shut behind her, she leans against it and takes a big, deep breath. like hoederer taught her, in through the nose, out through the... ]
What?? What is it? Why do you keep looking at that watch?
[ should she be looking at hers? do more fresh hells still yet await her? ]
no subject
she's got a guess or two on what that could mean from the way her spade mark burns like it's mocking her again.
they're not dealing with much right now while trying to find their way around. that is until w goes off yelling, the threats of violence causing texas to snap out of her distraction from the grim reality of the moment sinking in more. god help her. if she has to use the damn thing on w, can she please be put out her misery? she rather not use a magic wand on terra's most deadliest merc to ever walk the planet. she's going to consider it lucky that w did save her before dragging her into one of the rooms.
it's got the basics, a nice bed and seats. something luxurious for play time between the people that enter the hideaway. the awkward thing though, she almost winces from getting dragged out of her thoughts. shit.)
So....the magic wand has a catch, if I don't use it in four hours? I'm fixing to get hit with consequences and a drained bank account.
(she rather die right around now, please. she's thinking about it, and it's not as if she isn't useless. they're the ones that rolled the wheel or rather, had texas roll even if this is better than them winding up trying to figure out how to get off using a cockring when they're women.
which. also isn't good, given the clock now reads 02:45:50.
is she considering trying to throw it at someone and praying? probably, but she knows that she doesn't want to keep the damn thing. not after having to use it. why would she? she's not going to be that sort of person that collects sex toys from a roulette wheel of all damn things.
not one that like that.)
no subject
she's just fine right here hanging against the door, thanks!! her own watch is spared a glance; there doesn't seem to be a countdown of any kind, and it's mostly just ticking through what she's going to guess are informational points about the place they're at. none of it helpful toward any end she's contemplating or ready to accept, of course, so she gives up on that almost immediately.
just in time for it to register what texas means. a soft pffffft of air escapes her, her face crumpling as she tries and fails not to giggle herself in half. thanks, texas, she needed this brief flash of levity. ]
So what? I'll turn around. And believe me, I won't peek.
[ wouldn't be the worst she's overheard from a roommate/campmate/whatever. as long as she doesn't start reciting sarkaz poetry to that plastic wand, it won't even be close.
the most annoying thing is actually how easily they've cowed texas with this shit. she's not sure she's ever heard of anything more ridiculous than spinning a wheel and being forced to do something. it's not that she cares AT ALL about the actual element of texas herself, which is a true truth in the truest sense, but certainly no one in any world deserves to be pinned beneath the threat of an excised livelihood and freaky involuntary body horror. ]
Can't imagine you're much of a screamer anyway.
no subject
(did she sound like she was disassociating again? yes, yes she is. from how her spade mark is burning, it's laughing at her again in mockery. she did glare at it from under her left glove, ugh. forced compliance was to make them behave, play along with the games. the house doesn't give a shit if you want to do it or not. this place forces discomfort on any soul that's stuck here, whether they want to embrace that or even go down swinging.
this wasn't a solo act that the toy demands, it's a duo act. so yes, no amateur wolf pornography going in the background with someone watching/listening, whatever.
the patented thousand yard stare says plenty, she does not want to do this and get hit by that nasty surprise. not after two suit activations. again, which causes that spade mark to burn. god, she wants to stick her hand in hot water and burn it than deal with that brat. she even did take her glove off to look it over, yikes, there's a bit of saturation to it which is also annoying her.
okay, so she got a bit of a laugh at cellinia's expense. the rest won't be so funny given she does have to use the damn thing. hope she's ready for texas being annoyed while using it depending!)
Who the hell are you calling a screamer? If I had to bet someone was a screamer, it's you.
(why. why does she have to open her mouth, but texas doesn't back down from these things. she's an escape artist and a runaway, sure, but she's not going to just shut up and let herself get mocked at a time like this. that stupid spade mark is agitating enough without it.)
no subject
five months, texas said. coming up on the fringes of the kazdel outlands, w knows that a regular old sarkaz like herself can't make it more than two months without food, a few scant weeks without water. she's not dumb, either, this was always in the back of her mind, the idea that she'll have to shut up and put out at least once until she's liberated them all from this place. for what a sham this whole operation is, it seems like they're pretty stringent on the rules and have the tech to enforce it.
her shoulders bump the door and she can already feel her spirit trying to leak right back out of it, but... she sort of got texas into this mess, didn't she? big fan of suffering though she is, she's never intended to cause any to texas. (her shining personality aside — it's just the way all sarkaz are, texas is right not to take her barbs too seriously.) if they wanna get out of here, they ALL need to help each other up, and...
like a candle in the wind, her smile keeps flickering, flickering, then brightens abruptly. ]
I'll take that bet.
[ her heart is hammering away at the pit of her throat, but it's no big deal. they'll just do it and move on, who cares? she's definitely not some pathetic sort of loser who puts a lot of stock in this sort of thing, it's whatever!! maybe now she kinda sorta wishes she'd asked hoederer how he'd managed to rip all those squealy noises out of ines in the night instead of dressing them down dirty for it in the morning, but she's w, she doesn't lose.
especially not to texas. if she's not backing down, w isn't either. she brushes the straps of her dress off her shoulders, letting it drape low as she takes one nearly-tentative step forward, her face burning hot enough to ignite the room. ]
If only because you're almost hot in that suit.
no subject
she didn't ask for much, just food and something she can drink without issue. something that won't be laced, even if she did seem to be somewhat apologetic. this wasn't her idea of a good time. not dragging in someone else that didn't seem to want to do anything along these lines, either. she's got enough of a good head on her shoulders, but she knows w like herself isn't going to be completely upfront (texas has had five months to consider that) about these things. the sarkaz way of trading barbs was something that didn't faze her from the first time she heard it, up until now included.
her little bet aside, she did that without thinking. half from that spade mark being active due to the timer ticking, other half because she's always been this way. texas doesn't back down from challenges. not easily, this counts as one such moment for her: since the whole screamer remark was enough to light that fire.
a bet might be....easier for this, give a reason for them to not feel as awkward or irritated. or whatever w is feeling before turning her attention at the toy briefly. it should have decent settings.)
Almost? How about, if you're not a screamer, I'll pay for your meals at the Red Cardinal for a week.
(look, she's not very good at this either. it's texas. texas who can't flirt worth shit on her good days unless she's not even trying. don't ask her how she has people "rizzed" up by her for being herself. but texas is also charming (for someone that feels like people are talking to a brick wall) enough in using her words. she knows how to talk and knows how to walk. knows how to play a good game while maintaining her own speed when she has to.
if she's looking at w's shoulders, no, no she isn't. stupid spade mark. well, whatever. she'll do this when she reaches to unbutton the golden buttons on this suit jacket and set aside. a black vest and white button up shirt was on underneath it. she came prepared seems like for the event, wearing something that she can easily remove with the thicker layers while having something comfortable on under them.
she's not so stupid to assume that the resort wouldn't have pushed something on her eventually throughout the night.)
no subject
[ what a way to sign away her own body. not that it matters much, she knows she's a sick, twisted sarkaz, polluted with rage and disease and an ancestral cruelty that borders on psychosis. she should have died ages ago, it's just her luck that she's lived long enough to backslide right to start.
scraping and scrounging and doing anything she's got to in order to survive. nothing ever changes, not even with all the power in the world. there's always some unexpected variable waiting in the wings to blow it all away, like it was nothing more than a dream.
well. this isn't really the same. as far as trust goes, w harbors some semblance of it for texas. she knows her as dependable, which goes a long way for any sarkaz, and she's pretty certain texas wouldn't be the type to flap her gums and announce to the first moron she sees that she's banged w, of all people. probably mostly because she wouldn't want to admit it herself. she doesn't even particularly want to crawl out of her skin when texas removes her coat. her stupid monotonous voice is pretty soothing on her overworked, over-fraught nerves. if it has to be anyone...
her skirt billows high as she leans over to roll her tights down her thighs. they'd be the perfect length to hang herself with right now, but unfortunately she definitely wants to live long enough to see theresis vaporized, so they instead become a lasso she can loop around texas's shoulders and pull her closer by. ]
And if I do...
[ at least she's enough of assassin to know how to steady her fingers no matter how much the stakes are weighing down upon her. she undoes the buttons of texas's vest just about as quick as she can pull a trigger. ]
Not likely, but I guess you can use me for whatever sick, twisted scenarios you get yourself roped into for that same amount of time.
no subject
or in this case, helping someone survive. w would get chips to work after this if she were checked-in. cellinia's card, too. having a card banked back for later is a good start for this hellhole, not that she started with one in her bank. but, one would get the idea.
she's got a stoic tone, low and soft. something soothing when she can purr it out for someone that's supposed to be a canine. attractive when she wants to be, given that she cleans up nicely. her hat and cane were left off to the side, don't ask how she can pull off a look like this. with a top hat and a walking stick of all damn things like she's some kind of rich big shot again as an heiress. that's far from true, she's not the heiress any longer and this isn't necessarily something she would have done back then, either. not even during the carneval. besides, they're both objectively a pair of misfits. and maybe she can admit w can look attractive.
not that they're one another's types, but it's a thought. that's good enough. good enough that she found her attention on w again after the tights go around her neck, her shoulders, and pull cellinia close. she's got her attention, amber eyes lit up in the dim lights in this room. good, she didn't need much to focus on the now.
plus it shut up that brat of a spade mark she has.)
Lucky you, I don't always go around getting myself in chaos.
(does this count as terrible flirting? yeah, probably. not that texas couldn't, she just was better suited for sticking her sword in something or someone that got in her way. she's still made for a fight, made for a battlefield more than some sex casino.
....that and at least she trusts w enough, that's something else. somehow she always finds the unpredictable people can be more reliable than those that are sane, but that's because she's by no means normal herself.)
no subject
[ big talk from someone who only has a few scant inches on texas. she's gotta cling to what she's got here, which isn't much at all. she just knows that if texas is mildly annoyed with her, it's her best bet for getting through this without having to make any embarrassing confessions. it's always better to be the recipient of anger than mockery — or worse, getting caught looking vulnerable.
that's simply not an option. she's got texas's attention, good, she'll divert it right down to her chest, where her breasts are threatening to spill out from the too-tight bra they stuffed her in at the door. it's not like she doesn't know exactly how to lean to make an underwire buckle and forfeit an already losing battle. she undoes the last button on texas's shirt and pushes the fabric aside, helping her roll it off her shoulders.
not the worst shoulders. much better she'd have expected without those flashy accoutrements. her tongue rolls over her lips thoughtfully. ]
But I guess you could just use me.
[ thank fuck texas isn't overly handsy or w isn't sure how she'd deal with it. it's just the low tones of her voice and the rising warmth of her body as w unwraps her like an unexpected gift, letting her take her time and absorb that this is really about to happen. her red-lacquered nails sail over one of the faded scars on texas's torso, but don't touch. they curl around texas's shoulder instead, urging her back against the door where she can hike one leg up around texas's waist.
and there it is. it's the last thing she wants to say to anybody who isn't theresa, but if she doesn't say it now, she'll lose her nerve. better to do it while there's this warm glow flickering inside her at the sight of her chest pressed flush against texas's. her hips lift urgently, her leg tightening. ]
Touch me.
no subject
not the way some might like. that doesn't need to be her focus, she did notice it. her breasts threatening to spill out whenever the cool breeze of the room touches her skin. she's running hot, but that's not unexpected. flashy isn't always her style, not the furs or the lapels that came with it. that cape she was stuck wearing until she found herself liberated of it.
the drop of it, her dress shirt and vest, felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. the scars are numerous, but that's not surprising. the familiga life does this often. so does her work as an armed courier, typically. she's not the handsy type, that's for the best. most texas does is gauge her partners reactions to get an idea on how they might respond to it. she's not the best at it yet, but she's getting there and had a feeling a bit slow wouldn't be a bad idea to not push her out her comfort zone. that's how texas is with physical touch, even if she was being pushed more to accept it by people in her life that would get touchy-feely.)
....guess it couldn't hurt to include that for my end if you win, too, that you can use me.
(she needs to keep herself focused, even with them backed up against the door. she's pressed against w when her leg hooks itself around her waist, amber eyes drift in thought before wetting her lips a bit. what the hell, why not? w's been dealing with nerves at an all-time from the resort, texas has been frustrated about being forced to attend that party they're stuck dealing with. they can make this work and pretend after whether it was nice or not that nothing happened.
that is if they do pretend when that little urgent plea hits her, so she wishes then. texas doesn't say anything more, not whenever one hand finds itself on the thigh that so helpfully rests around her waist. the gloved one, but that can change in a bit while her left one reaches to help free her breasts from that tight bra and dress. as best as she can (mind you, she is still holding that toy) while preoccupied with running her lips along w's neck. )
no subject
if she knows how to flirt, it's only because she enjoys taunting people with things they'll never have. it should ruin the fun now that texas is definitely going to have her, and indeed she stiffens just for a moment at the slide of that gloved hand over her thigh, her lips rolling over her flashing teeth instinctively, her flesh exploding with the texture of goosebumps. that impulse to push away, though, to claw and fight and keep texas from getting a good grip on her is quieter than she'd expected it to be. maybe it's the cool leather skidding across her heated skin, or that relieved gasp when the pressure constricting her chest is finally loosened that drowns the worst of it away.
but those lips against her throat — she's never been more aware that texas is a lupo. she shouldn't let this happen, texas could tear her throat out with her teeth in the blink of an eye, and it's too much to think that she can feel w's erratic pulse against her lips. if only she didn't feel like she was melting most of all, a soft purr hidden and muted in the very pit of her throat, her fingers scrambling for purchase and clutching at the front of texas's bra. ]
Wasn't that the plan?
[ it's a joke, but w can barely make it more than a breathy hum in response. maybe she's not as lost as she thought she was. her hands slide easy enough beneath the cup of the bra and squeeze into soft flesh; her other hand works between them, unthreading texas's belt, popping the buttons beneath it. they probably don't need to both be stripped down for this, but like hell she's about to be the only one. ]
no subject
she doesn't latch those teeth down, she teases with them in nips and nibbles. almost like a pup. she knows better than to bite down when it's unwanted for someone that happens to enjoy covering her partners in teeth marks, as she's begun to learn about herself. that might be more the baser instincts of lupo talking, but she's keeping an eye on w. she's still a sarkaz and can easily snap them into being on the floor from their positioning.
something to ease that tension. nothing would help them if w winds up too tightly without letting out some of that frustration and more she's feeling.
texas can handle her own, but that's nothing new. she might shut down on occasion when it worsens, but she's starting to get there more in that regard, too. her bra is a nice black and silk one. pleasant to touch, run ones fingers along smoothly when she slips out a breathy sigh of her own at her breast being squeezed. her gloved hand does the same to w's thigh. the leather of them against bare skin must feel interesting, if w wasn't demanding that glove off yet.)
True....
(she caught the tone, thankfully, in how she hums that out between nips. texas does know that was already on the table as a necessity. she's the one with the chips and somewhere for people to crash at when they had to. her belt coming undone catches her attention, sure, they both didn't need to strip, but she's not minding. it's easier to move whenever they're not....distracted, to put it lightly. being against the door with this might get uncomfortable even if texas has made things work whenever possible.)
no subject
but she can't say the danger of it all doesn't make her blood sing. maybe someday when she isn't ready to cut a bitch at the drop of a hat she'll even ask for texas to show her how sharp those teeth can really be. for now, it's just exciting, same as it is when her hands squeeze and texas sighs, when texas squeezes into the meat of her thigh and w loses her mind for a split second and feels her panties dampen. the warring bodily power of it all is as fascinating as it is intoxicating.
anyway, she likes it here against the door, climbing texas like a siracusan sapling. there's a nice dull thud to make when she lets texas's trousers fall free and tangles her fingers in the fabric beneath them and snaps her hips forward eagerly, rattling the door on its hinges. an even nicer sound when her fingers fold across texas's forehead to shove her head back, so she can bow her own and repeat the same routine down texas's chest, mirroring those slow, careful nips when she gets to her breasts. the taste of her is like a drug, exhilarating in that forbidden and dangerous kind of way, and it isn't long before she finds a nipple to worry between those needling teeth of hers.
she'll push down the remnants of her dress when she can. it's not a pretty sight: there's that cavernous web of scar tissue across her torso where she was fatally gored before babel swept her up into the sky, her flesh so busy with old burns and battle scars besides. no signs of oripathy lesions, oddly enough, but she's a sarkaz and definitely diseased. at least she's distracted enough to feel divorced from whatever texas might think — she's lucky to even be here to see this, honestly, anyone else who's ever seen this much of her skin isn't around to tell any tales about it now. but the bridge of w's nose still burns pink as her dress pools at their feet and the cool air of the room deepens the shivers thrumming through her shoulders. ]
no subject
however, it is also is tempting to respond that day she gets asked to just show. she can't bite down deep enough to draw blood is the unfortunate thing, didn't mean she couldn't make someone infected or not into a pin cushion from the sheer number of teeth marks she can give if allowed to let loose. that's the other thing about texas, poking that sleeping wolf in her meant someone was in for a ride. didn't matter if it's like now or not, the settings on the wand should be fine. it's not like she'll start full power knowing it's a massager at its core. texas learned that the hard way whenever she tried that personally herself (not her finest moment) not to assume that much about them.
against the door it is, then, is something texas thinks briefly to herself. she would have kept going to try finding any particularly sensitive spots on her neck, somewhere she could tease more, if not for the interruption when her head is pushed back. the pressing of their hips together once her trousers drop to the floor. all she has left is those tights and black silk panties. she doesn't need to say anything, but she did notice those scars. worse than her own. the only one that seemed life-threatening had it gone deeper is from a familiar blade. along her hip to her stomach, a gift before she left columbia and siracusa. on the bright side (not that she'd admit this out loud) she doesn't find w's body repulsive.
she has no room to talk, not even to judge. not in the sighs she lets out, the shiver running down her at her nipple being toyed with from teeth. seems her enjoyment of turning her partners into pin cushions goes both ways, again, not that she'd say it. a grind of her hips is against w's for that, a rut (not entirely) while texas rubs into her thigh. she's distracted thoroughly, but checking to see if the toy is set to low. thankfully it is, otherwise she would have wanted to strangle whoever runs this resort more for giving a magic wand with one setting.
....not the worse thing she can bet that someone would want to kill the house over.)
no subject
w expects, no matter what, that texas will eventually want to kill her, and that this will hurt. as well it should: life is suffering. she's heard ines sob a trillion times for whatever hoederer does to her in their tent, and she knows well enough from the war that shit like this can be devastating. there's no reason she can figure that it shouldn't be that way for her.
and now that she sizes that wand against the whole of her naked body — it's huge and sounds powerful. she can't take her eyes off it, her head lifting off texas's chest to track its movements. the soft buzz of it already makes her skin crawl, and for a moment, her hips steady and stop. she begins to maybe sort of regret her dedication to doing this against the door.
but she's no fainting little bitch. much as her stomach is sick with the threat of the unknown, she's not about to back down when it's texas. her fingers lock around the back of texas's neck, her gaze burning as she growls: ]
Fuckin' do it.
[ tear her apart with that thing, or whatever. what's a massage? the word almost certainly doesn't exist in sarkaz, where people toil til they drop from their muscles snapping, where every innocuous thing is expected to draw blood and spread agony. a word like that could mean a litany of terrifying anythings, and w's gone tense again though she's doing her level best to play it off, like she's now fully invested in pulling down texas's tights halfway with her hands, the rest of the way with a rubbing ankle. ]
no subject
but this is addicting enough, it can feel like living while trapped here.
it can work. sometimes a girl needs to let her mind go and far be it for her to complain about providing that, it won't stay sweet and gentle. there's no input from that annoyance on her hand, that just means that she didn't have to focus on it deciding to flare and talk whatever shit it felt like. must be because she's feeding it. ugh, but she does understand this. not even from the things she's done while stuck there. some part of her considers it lucky she didn't try hunting people to go after them for her needs as a stupid werewolf. she was a mindless beast at the time, mindless and hungering. demanding. maybe her body wants something similar to that again with the sensation of not thinking about anything. just rutting, fucking, whatever.
she did half think they could move (honestly that would have been better) even if they've come this far. she expects her back to be scratched up, based off what she knows. hard enough to draw blood and leave whatever cuts w damn well pleases on her. texas herself? she has to keep her steady, she knows that much. help keep her steady, don't breathe a damn word after this like she intends when the low buzz is there filling the air.)
Keep a good grip on me.
(she totally expects if she intensifies it that it won't be a good idea, if she pumps it up then it'd be on w's request. okay. with that said (and her tights dropping to the floor) texas isn't speedy about it just in case to keep giving her that idea of being in control as needed. not with bringing the wand near, not with pressing the top of the massager against w's panties, right around where her clit would be at. she'll have to see what her back looks like after.
if she even survives.)
no subject
she just wants to, the moment that wand is on the move. she'd thought her panties would have to come off for this — not so it seems, because texas isn't giving her any further directions. there's just the sound of buzzing sinking low between them, and then...
that's fucking it. w doesn't even get it at first, her fists balled against the back of texas's neck for no good reason, gaze locked on hers in what was unshakeable determination and has slowly succumbed to pure confusion. nothing about this has sucked so far, if anything, it's the opposite, and it's just something w doesn't get. ]
... Oh.
[ and then she feels it, a twist of texas's hand to set it right against a spot that flares beneath that buzzing. right, that spot, it's not as if w is such a terrible prude she's never played with herself before. it's soft and gentle enough that it isn't immediately alarming; her body takes care of that part, her breath huffing hot against texas's chest as she begins to pant, her face flooding with heat. she really needs to find a hole to crawl in and die for the mistake of letting texas see her like this. she feels so warm suddenly and her first impulse is to pull away, but stubbornness keeps her fast in place, and now there's something else compelling her to drive harder against it, smothering the wand between their bodies.
her teeth grit hard, locking in a word that was almost texas's name. the bet was that she can't scream, and she doesn't particularly want to yet, but how mortifying would it be to make any other noise? it really doesn't matter when that heat keeps building and she needs to breathe through it, her jaw yawning open to emit a shattered whisper: ]
Fuck.
no subject
they're far too scared after the earlier display from w, and from texas glaring like she would have torn their throats out with her teeth.
not that she would, but the sentiment was there. vulnerability is what she hates putting herself through, so what good would bringing it up after do? the bet was more to help. seems like it did, from the way that way her fists balled up and how w resisted that urge to scream. half saying her name, half not. the whisper was enough to tell texas she made the better choice in using the fabric of her panties to act as a layer between it and her clit. pressing it on her bare clit might have very well caused a near loss, especially if she did get told to turn up the settings any.
their bodies near pressing more together is driving her mad, that stupid spade mark almost laughs again. as usual, it's mocking her. whatever, she didn't need to get off. not any time soon. she'll be okay, this isn't her needing it for anything more than them trying to prevent what would be big consequences if she doesn't play the game. even if w might not be able to spend those chips she'll get from this, that's also fine. it's still pocket money for when she has her own time.
chump change as some might view it, but in this hellhole people struggle all the damn time. herself included, so she wants to meet some of that determination with her own by seeing it through. w being stubborn was the other helpful thing, she would have stopped had she needed to with using it for a time if w couldn't endure it for now. nothing, no comments on her expression or how mortifying this must be. she's not the sort to tease or that kind of woman to torture someone on the receiving end of something like a wand of all things. maybe they should be happier it wasn't one of those clit suckers.
now that would have made texas want to throw it into the crowd, she hasn't used those, but she's seen them around the love dove. often with a terrified expression. like hell she would want to put someone that hasn't seemed to have touched herself if any before through that. or that's her assumption, the scent of arousal is thick enough a lupo like her can smell it from there.)
Easy....I won't turn it up past this unless you're really sure.
(because this was partially, cellinia's fault for obtaining that stupid wand.)
no subject
she's been curious, sure, but she's never, ever made it here. panting, mindlessly rutting, her mind abuzz with the sensations, so fever-hot she's practically melting down texas's chest. if she were alone, she'd probably give up right here, horrified at how quickly her body needs and demands more, but it should be worse that she's not. she should hate that more.
texas's voice could be another vibration that she rides to wherever the fuck it is she's going. her skin is just as warm, and surprisingly soft too when w's stonelocked jaw brings her whole head down into a bow against it. the scent of her, the feeling of those strong shoulders beneath her clutching hands, they've turned enchanting in their own right when w wasn't paying attention. a part of her wishes she'd touched texas more before she demanded this.
as for those nails — never believe everything you've heard. w's nails are chewed to meager little stubs and largely harmless, even as they skitter frantically over texas's skin. the worst damage they do is to tangle in the hair at the base of her neck, pulling when w's body is wracking itself with heavy, sob-like breaths. ]
Don't you dare— [ her toothlessly rasped snarl is broken by a sharp gasp. ] — go easy on me.
[ it's maybe too late to start running her mouth about that; she's already trembling all over, her thighs doused and dripping from where the toy is spreading along her wetness. even through her panties. she really can't catch her breath suddenly, can't stop pulling harder and harder at texas's hair, and much as she loathes when her body does anything she hasn't commanded it to, there's no stopping this too-quick rising of tension between her thighs.
it feels too good and the sounds it's ripping from her are worse than mortifying. the bet was she couldn't scream, there weren't any other rules beyond that. flush-faced and spilling right over the edge, she can lean into all that inviting skin and suckle at texas's tit until her mouth's plugged full and come so hard it blacks out her vision. all this flesh is her one anchor while she drifts in and out.
turns out the screamy part comes after. texas neglected to mention that, not that there's any reason she should have. that sensitivity keeps climbing and her face crumples in something close to pain, her hips stuttering, automatically backing her off the toy no matter what an example she's trying to make here. if it feels like a defeat, w's finally too fucked out to care. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)