【 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.
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▶ 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.
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[ the question just furthers the growl in her throat, the flicker of her face, a flash of something that's almost something between fury and desperation. sure, everyone thought lappland insane but everyone thought texas cool and collected. good thing lappland doesn't have feelings to burn. ]
You don't have to tell me that. [ she had been with texas... she wasn't the first, she probably wasn't even the longest, she's not sure when exactly texas and giovanna became friends. and she certainly wasn't the closest. she held the closeness of a whole seven year separation. she isn't bitter over it, she had no choice but to accept it. the reality of the matter is they're both lone wolves and yet she wondered over and over again in that separation why it was, all she wanted was if they could be alone together.
all her life, all her life, all her life wanting to be with her. wanting almost completely nothing more than that. accepting the separation, or rather acceptance was something like a constant battle to do just that every time she'd talk to texas' friends. all her life wanting one thing, one person, the contradiction and jealousy and bitterness and acceptance that it won't happen, wanting one person and not even really considering the idea of being wanted back until it seems to be happening now and if she really accepts it even more fully she might just go insane beyond her current self control.
texas touching her, like she'd barely imagine. texas kissing her, texas undressing her... of a single robe, but it makes her shake near uncontrollably when she's fully naked now. the sick-pale skin, the crystalline lesions, her modest breasts, the fur between her legs. the old scar crossing her body from the shoulder, the wounds some of which texas knows and many she probably doesn't from seven years. her hackles raised, her look at texas somewhere between furiously ecstatic and almost close to despairing, her face a snarl. for a split second like she's a hit dog again, a creature who adores one person only, who chased after one person only and accepts her place in knowing she won't be chased back.
but she always, always, deeply, devastatingly wanted... ]
You might regret making me think you want me this badly. [ well there's no angel here, no idol, no giovanna. just herself. and if she allows herself to want texas she's not actually sure what the hell she'll do. ]
(because she's always been this way. a different type of crazy, not the insanity of lappland whenever she genuinely feels that way. the insanity of a woman that chose one of the not sanest approaches to living, that girl who killed her father and burned it all down. of the three, cellinia was the one that made her own decision to not fall under the paths that giovanna and lappland themselves took. that path was a path meant to be the hardest. she may never stop feeling angry, but her choice was and still is the decision she made. that she would shoulder on her responsibility in this mess she once was part of as a familiga wolf. she is not that golden girl, what she is now is someone that went against the fold.
because cellinia texas held and saw one thing, what she likes most is life. living, dreaming, and breathing. the risk always had it's biggest highs to her and no matter this choice setting her further away from those she grew up with, she chose this. the two were part of her life and were in some ways precious to her. the difficulties of showing this is another story. because texas knows she might not ever be able to do that. they'd never reach her with the paths they took, and she'd never reach them in a similar vein until they all find what they're after. it was just humorous that the runaway lone wolf saw what she wished for first over time when she returned to siracusa.
as a lone wolf, this had been her choice. maybe now it counts again as her decision, would she regret this? can she? that's the thing about living, there would always be regrets. so maybe, just maybe....she wants to live even with those regrets. and desires more importantly to do something that plenty would call her insane over. broca would call her stupid, she knows him by now. aak might even think she's crazy after their conversation last time. but she knows, she knows what she wants to do for now. she can defend herself if it comes to that with or without weapons. so she touches lappland, her fingers trailing over one particular shoulder scar. not the one left by ingrid, the other one. seeing it again reminds her of that night. she still has a rather familiar one from her hip to her stomach courtesy of someone that's in front of her.
funny. they gave one another mutual scars that night, but her touch is gentle for looking it over. the touch of her rough fingertips tracing it before she reaches to get that vest unbuttoned and that cape she was wearing dropped to the floor. as loathed as she is to stop kissing lappland for now, she did need to keep this from being ripped off. they can't go to a party nude (even if that wouldn't be much of a surprise in the resort after she came in on that vampire blood orgy just about) despite her having a feeling that would be acceptable to the house. those bastards in the end that run everything.) If you think you'll act out, whether I regret it or not is on me. But what I do know is that if I have to, then I'll be the one to stop you from doing anything. (she should have said that from the start, she might regret it in some ways. in others, maybe not.
because that's living, that's always how it should be with or without regrets once that vest is down on the floor. her dress shirt and ascot are left, so are those slacks and her boots. damn pain in the ass outfit, ugh.)
[ life is the privilege of the living. but how odd it is, somewhere along the way ever since their origins in siracusa and, actually, before that originium bomb, she somehow found herself in a world where she could admit that maybe there was absolutely nothing in her life worth living for, except--
for one person. one person she could fixate on in a life-ruining way after all, in the way that she really could just about slaughter anyone for, even or especially family or even possibly herself. her ears tremble, pinned back. what a paradox it is because it took years of nearly losing a life purpose to be with texas when texas disappeared and now, finally, years later she could haltingly consider what the hell life could be if she really gives up on her. there's the part of her that burns with jealousy that texas truly will have a whole rest of her life without her and well, maybe it's all the better if she could try to space or cut their relationship and her obsession. whether she could do so is another question. texas will have the rest of her life to be with that angel and idol and forte and giovanna later, so wanting her now beyond friendship is slightly useless unless she really goes insane.
and she thinks about it all the time. ]
If you really think you can stop me, you have another thing coming. [ all the time. it's not really a joke at all if she fantasizes of kidnapping her, of locking her away, of keeping her all for herself. the toxicity and blackness and violence that she vents on corpses.
and then there's the reality of the truth where she'd kill and die and go to jail for texas after all. still, she mock-snarls in texas' direction, her claws rip the last of texas' accessories and ascot off, then hook to the buttons of her shirt to simply cut them loose and tear. ah... it's really, really such a pain. for all that she scorns people for masking their real selves, she knows she might be the biggest culprit. ]
I'll see if I can make you regret it yet, then.
Come on. Take it all off. [ of course, she's helping. but she's just saying. ] If I'm naked here, so are you. If you think you want me, I'll either cure you of that delusion or we can die trying.
(living of course never was the easiest thing, some could give up without even trying. texas for a time had done similar in how she moved through the motions, life was nothing she enjoyed. that she faded fast and felt almost as if nothing might ever drag her out of that pit. then eventually, texas found herself thinking that wasn't what she ever wished for. to die that easily when she began to find her way once again and rebuild. but, rebuilding could be another hardship. with or without how her life's direction changed; she found it to be one of the hardest moments she's ever experienced. going from living corpse to back to a girl that had lost more than she'd ever talk about.
as that title she was given, her past was and still is falling under a single word (omertosa) in everything that happened. texas isn't thinking about it, what she thinks more about is that there are some things that she should have done better. those were regrets, she would always carry them. yet here they are, alone. they aren't bound by their dni, not even by the fact rhodes island contracted them. all they're here as is two wolves. two wolves that nobody knows the history of, two wolves who have been picked apart cleanly by the system they were once part of. they do not belong here, perhaps, not any further than they did in terra. likely not ever would they find a true home even if texas did make friends. cellinia is good at it, but that didn't mean she's the greatest of friends and people.
her demeanor leaves much to be desired, though she pauses her thoughts and snarls back at the mockery she's met with. the two of them would never know if cellinia doesn't try now, won't they? she didn't say that just to sound "cool", not even to sound like she's a big shot of sorts. texas intends to try. that's all she can do.
that's all she has to do, with or without a weapon in her hands.)
I'm hardly being delusional, despite what you think.
(a hiss, the cloth and fabric rips easily, the buttons popping off at least to reveal familiar (that one lappland gave her along her side and abdomen in particular) and not so familiar scars once her dress shirt falls to the floor with accessories. maybe even signs of another newer scar in the shape of talons along her right arm. those were healing from an event in october, but it must have been bad if a winged clawbeast got its hands on her.
her bra is exposed too, black and sitting pretty with patterns in the fabric whenever texas reaches to undo her belt. annoying clothes, but she's almost freed of them. almost free as the belt buckle comes undone and the sound of her zipper coming down fills the air. she's in a hurry to undress all the same.
they're likely never bound to change in some ways, but they're both culprits of being hypocrites about their own ideas. their own thoughts and more.)
[ she gets the feeling, but she could just about try to talk shit because anything different in reality might be something she can barely deal with.
even if that sounds horribly dramatic. maybe she can’t help it. she might not even deny it, she’d practically lived her whole life pining after one person and finally faced with the idea of having her is turning her entire reality on its head to the point that she could barely grapple with it. years of useless fantasies of kissing and touching her, fucking her or even something at all even nicer. there truly was nothing she truly actually cared about in life at all, not friends or family or country or hobbies. just one person, until she really thought the best thing she could possibly do was give her life to that person until she was denied. nothing, nothing, nothing mattered. the chronic pain and spread of the infection, the fury towards family and country, the constant betrayals and massacres, the loneliness, nothing mattered nothing mattered in the world except her.
the pathetic state of her obsession and her bloodstained self but she’s really a sick infatuated dog with a tenuous leash to life in the first place. she gathers texas in her arms, both naked now, her tail trembles when she can’t even exactly find herself to be happy or in despair or anything when faced with what she might’ve wanted the most in her life. or she’s not even sure what she really wants from texas, or she does know, but she wouldn’t ask it of her. there’s a tremble from her whole body as she just holds texas close to her, chest to chest, her ears pressed back. then kissing her again, with the desperation she held of her entire life knowing and being in love with texas. there are too many reasons why. she probably simply doesn’t reach for what she selfishly wants. she’ll do anything for her but for what she wants for herself. her black claws scratch lightly to texas’ skin, her tongue seeking texas’, a soft needy sound from her throat. she could think, well maybe she could simply use her tongue or fingers or whatever else if texas might simply want relief. it could be simple as that, she might even prefer it. but she’s always wanted to kiss her, to be with her, hold her close almost painfully tender. even with all the violence in her there’s all the infatuation in her to texas. all the fantasies she has of mating her roughly, but she also just wants to kiss as well. maybe this won’t last, she’ll steal kisses at least while texas allows her. ]
(there isn't much texas did expect, there was a lot between them. contradicting herself often came naturally, like now, where part of her thought she was being stupid. giving her enemy this much or giving the one friend who knows her and doesn't at the same time too much. she didn't want her dead, didn't want to kill her. that's the one part that stood strongly against her demeanor from how many chances that texas has had to finish this. she never did, never will. already she's going to be in further trouble, but that isn't something she thinks about at the present. before she might have told herself that she shouldn't.
that she should reconsider, leave, avoid. now it's....maybe it was tiring, maybe it wasn't. whatever was happening in that five months had been big enough to make her start thinking more.
about some of her actions, about if she might ever see those rainy skies or lungmen's own any time soon. from how she's thinking, it felt like they never will. texas has that feeling, and there isn't much that she may ever be able to do while trapped. all she can do is make the most of their now mutual hell, being somewhere she can try to do things differently at, but that's not going to be easy for herself. that spade mark does like to give cellinia more trouble than she'd admit.
from the mockery to preying upon certain behaviors of herself, and as annoying as it is....it was sadly what made her think about everything further. that she's caused a right mess in her own life, she has yet to fix that or do anything about after everything over the years.
texas might not be talking, but maybe she did feel like she would have when they were younger. being seen this way. nude, but she has plenty of scars. beautiful in how she holds herself back from that raging storm she always carries in her, that is cellinia texas. despite it, she's pulled close and despite it all, she kisses lappland. desperation, that was met with neediness. her lips part so easily for lappland's tongue and to lick into it. she wasn't the best of kissers (with her slowly getting more experience in that, she doubts that'd change too) though it doesn't stop her from getting comfortable pressed against lappland. tender, but not tender. a shudder from claws going along her skin.
what a mess this is, cellinia couldn't even help the way those manicured claws press lightly against skin along lappland's back and shoulders in how she's holding on to her. she could honestly steal as many kisses as she wants, texas might even be thinking about doing the same. the only thing is that she's not thinking much about anything else. nothing mattered, not past the now. any worries could be another time, and any other things texas would need to do. she'd show her around later, maybe bring lappland by one of her favorite places to eat at. that's all texas can do while hoping for the best.)
[ she presses something of a sly smile to texas' lips, almost completely uncharacteristically soft and almost completely unlike her. how laughable it is that she'd happily shred the bodies of her enemies apart, casually threaten her underlings or be the most cordial face of customer service to strangers. happily accept after everything they'd been through, that she could be texas' friend. keep secret in her chest her real feelings, as disgustingly apparent as they might be. reluctantly admit to herself that despite their history she knows she's not the closest to texas or anything, but--
she knows her. she knows. she might dare to think and never admit she does actually know her the best after all. a pitiful woman who might never be totally truthful or honest even to her closest friend, who might never open herself to anyone... truly pathetic in a way even lappland herself has to struggle to sink to.
she really doesn't have time for that anymore, after a lifetime of being in love with her. this could be pleasure and just that, kissing her, nuzzling her, caressing those scars and marks on her body. ones she's familiar with and not. her obsessiveness battling with the careful and deliberate choice she's made of her heart. how she would kill for her or go to jail for her as a friend. she kisses thorough and yearning, and the pity and farce is in how she still thinks, she could possibly do even this as a friend. she finally knows she could spend time and energy and dedication to other goals. this is simply indulgence and nothing else.
she moves to push texas down on the cushioned seats, not even breaking the kiss, moving simply to be on top of her with a press of her claws to texas' shoulder. keeping their bodies in contact; and a subtle brush of her thighs as she grinds against texas, the fur of her and the wetness of her she'd share to texas as her body and scent warms with desire. ]
(that smile was noticed, as pathetic as it is there was always that struggle. somehow being made to speak more to what people she's gotten to know has changed it piece by piece, some found out in different ways. cellinia herself might not ever say how. when faced with one's younger self (angry at the injustice, at herself, at everything from a system that destroys more than ever) on a war path to attempt killing you, it also adds to those thoughts being placed into perspective. texas even remembers the words screamed at her, every word that sunk deep. every remark about herself that was true, the wish for acceptance and a desire to no longer be trapped how she was.
the wish that she changed, but texas doesn't want to bring the mood down talking about the circumstances around that event. much less mention how the landscapes used her memories, she didn't want to talk about it because it's better not to. not until another time and place for that where she might no longer be so miserably pathetic.
texas however, knows one thing, that goes as a two-way street between them. knowing one another too well, despite telling themselves they do not, that they weren't that close. that's the problem in itself, isn't it? texas can say that of all the people she knows that lappland can read her to a point others could not. that maybe they both can do as easy as breathing between the soft sighs she makes between kisses, the nuzzling, and fingers running along patches of scars. she has too many. physically, probably otherwise, but she wants to lie more to herself. the only problem is that her lying wasn't working against the feeling of her lips. obsession from lappland, yearning from texas that she might not be able to say. sweet, poisonous, wanting.
her back hits the seats, beneath her this time and hair curtaining behind texas. like she were on one of the adult magazines she's seen around the resort, regardless of the pitiful state of her body. their bodies fit too well together, from that press of them and not daring to part when texas' arms goes around lappland proper, from the grind of their hips together. she moans, she moans into the kiss. feeding them like the sweets she often eats to lappland, her own hips rutting, grinding slowly against lappland's own. for someone that tells herself and lies so often to herself, there's nothing she can think about other than the feeling of heat, skin to skin, lips against lips with shivers running down her spine. sensual, but that can change to being graceless at any time.)
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
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You don't have to tell me that. [ she had been with texas... she wasn't the first, she probably wasn't even the longest, she's not sure when exactly texas and giovanna became friends. and she certainly wasn't the closest. she held the closeness of a whole seven year separation. she isn't bitter over it, she had no choice but to accept it. the reality of the matter is they're both lone wolves and yet she wondered over and over again in that separation why it was, all she wanted was if they could be alone together.
all her life, all her life, all her life wanting to be with her. wanting almost completely nothing more than that. accepting the separation, or rather acceptance was something like a constant battle to do just that every time she'd talk to texas' friends. all her life wanting one thing, one person, the contradiction and jealousy and bitterness and acceptance that it won't happen, wanting one person and not even really considering the idea of being wanted back until it seems to be happening now and if she really accepts it even more fully she might just go insane beyond her current self control.
texas touching her, like she'd barely imagine. texas kissing her, texas undressing her... of a single robe, but it makes her shake near uncontrollably when she's fully naked now. the sick-pale skin, the crystalline lesions, her modest breasts, the fur between her legs. the old scar crossing her body from the shoulder, the wounds some of which texas knows and many she probably doesn't from seven years. her hackles raised, her look at texas somewhere between furiously ecstatic and almost close to despairing, her face a snarl. for a split second like she's a hit dog again, a creature who adores one person only, who chased after one person only and accepts her place in knowing she won't be chased back.
but she always, always, deeply, devastatingly wanted... ]
You might regret making me think you want me this badly. [ well there's no angel here, no idol, no giovanna. just herself. and if she allows herself to want texas she's not actually sure what the hell she'll do. ]
no subject
(because she's always been this way. a different type of crazy, not the insanity of lappland whenever she genuinely feels that way. the insanity of a woman that chose one of the not sanest approaches to living, that girl who killed her father and burned it all down. of the three, cellinia was the one that made her own decision to not fall under the paths that giovanna and lappland themselves took. that path was a path meant to be the hardest. she may never stop feeling angry, but her choice was and still is the decision she made. that she would shoulder on her responsibility in this mess she once was part of as a familiga wolf. she is not that golden girl, what she is now is someone that went against the fold.
because cellinia texas held and saw one thing, what she likes most is life. living, dreaming, and breathing. the risk always had it's biggest highs to her and no matter this choice setting her further away from those she grew up with, she chose this. the two were part of her life and were in some ways precious to her. the difficulties of showing this is another story. because texas knows she might not ever be able to do that. they'd never reach her with the paths they took, and she'd never reach them in a similar vein until they all find what they're after. it was just humorous that the runaway lone wolf saw what she wished for first over time when she returned to siracusa.
as a lone wolf, this had been her choice. maybe now it counts again as her decision, would she regret this? can she? that's the thing about living, there would always be regrets. so maybe, just maybe....she wants to live even with those regrets. and desires more importantly to do something that plenty would call her insane over. broca would call her stupid, she knows him by now. aak might even think she's crazy after their conversation last time. but she knows, she knows what she wants to do for now. she can defend herself if it comes to that with or without weapons. so she touches lappland, her fingers trailing over one particular shoulder scar. not the one left by ingrid, the other one. seeing it again reminds her of that night. she still has a rather familiar one from her hip to her stomach courtesy of someone that's in front of her.
funny. they gave one another mutual scars that night, but her touch is gentle for looking it over. the touch of her rough fingertips tracing it before she reaches to get that vest unbuttoned and that cape she was wearing dropped to the floor. as loathed as she is to stop kissing lappland for now, she did need to keep this from being ripped off. they can't go to a party nude (even if that wouldn't be much of a surprise in the resort after she came in on that vampire blood orgy just about) despite her having a feeling that would be acceptable to the house. those bastards in the end that run everything.) If you think you'll act out, whether I regret it or not is on me. But what I do know is that if I have to, then I'll be the one to stop you from doing anything. (she should have said that from the start, she might regret it in some ways. in others, maybe not.
because that's living, that's always how it should be with or without regrets once that vest is down on the floor. her dress shirt and ascot are left, so are those slacks and her boots. damn pain in the ass outfit, ugh.)
no subject
for one person. one person she could fixate on in a life-ruining way after all, in the way that she really could just about slaughter anyone for, even or especially family or even possibly herself. her ears tremble, pinned back. what a paradox it is because it took years of nearly losing a life purpose to be with texas when texas disappeared and now, finally, years later she could haltingly consider what the hell life could be if she really gives up on her. there's the part of her that burns with jealousy that texas truly will have a whole rest of her life without her and well, maybe it's all the better if she could try to space or cut their relationship and her obsession. whether she could do so is another question. texas will have the rest of her life to be with that angel and idol and forte and giovanna later, so wanting her now beyond friendship is slightly useless unless she really goes insane.
and she thinks about it all the time. ]
If you really think you can stop me, you have another thing coming. [ all the time. it's not really a joke at all if she fantasizes of kidnapping her, of locking her away, of keeping her all for herself. the toxicity and blackness and violence that she vents on corpses.
and then there's the reality of the truth where she'd kill and die and go to jail for texas after all. still, she mock-snarls in texas' direction, her claws rip the last of texas' accessories and ascot off, then hook to the buttons of her shirt to simply cut them loose and tear. ah... it's really, really such a pain. for all that she scorns people for masking their real selves, she knows she might be the biggest culprit. ]
I'll see if I can make you regret it yet, then.
Come on. Take it all off. [ of course, she's helping. but she's just saying. ] If I'm naked here, so are you. If you think you want me, I'll either cure you of that delusion or we can die trying.
no subject
as that title she was given, her past was and still is falling under a single word (omertosa) in everything that happened. texas isn't thinking about it, what she thinks more about is that there are some things that she should have done better. those were regrets, she would always carry them. yet here they are, alone. they aren't bound by their dni, not even by the fact rhodes island contracted them. all they're here as is two wolves. two wolves that nobody knows the history of, two wolves who have been picked apart cleanly by the system they were once part of. they do not belong here, perhaps, not any further than they did in terra. likely not ever would they find a true home even if texas did make friends. cellinia is good at it, but that didn't mean she's the greatest of friends and people.
her demeanor leaves much to be desired, though she pauses her thoughts and snarls back at the mockery she's met with. the two of them would never know if cellinia doesn't try now, won't they? she didn't say that just to sound "cool", not even to sound like she's a big shot of sorts. texas intends to try. that's all she can do.
that's all she has to do, with or without a weapon in her hands.)
I'm hardly being delusional, despite what you think.
(a hiss, the cloth and fabric rips easily, the buttons popping off at least to reveal familiar (that one lappland gave her along her side and abdomen in particular) and not so familiar scars once her dress shirt falls to the floor with accessories. maybe even signs of another newer scar in the shape of talons along her right arm. those were healing from an event in october, but it must have been bad if a winged clawbeast got its hands on her.
her bra is exposed too, black and sitting pretty with patterns in the fabric whenever texas reaches to undo her belt. annoying clothes, but she's almost freed of them. almost free as the belt buckle comes undone and the sound of her zipper coming down fills the air. she's in a hurry to undress all the same.
they're likely never bound to change in some ways, but they're both culprits of being hypocrites about their own ideas. their own thoughts and more.)
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even if that sounds horribly dramatic. maybe she can’t help it. she might not even deny it, she’d practically lived her whole life pining after one person and finally faced with the idea of having her is turning her entire reality on its head to the point that she could barely grapple with it. years of useless fantasies of kissing and touching her, fucking her or even something at all even nicer. there truly was nothing she truly actually cared about in life at all, not friends or family or country or hobbies. just one person, until she really thought the best thing she could possibly do was give her life to that person until she was denied. nothing, nothing, nothing mattered. the chronic pain and spread of the infection, the fury towards family and country, the constant betrayals and massacres, the loneliness, nothing mattered nothing mattered in the world except her.
the pathetic state of her obsession and her bloodstained self but she’s really a sick infatuated dog with a tenuous leash to life in the first place. she gathers texas in her arms, both naked now, her tail trembles when she can’t even exactly find herself to be happy or in despair or anything when faced with what she might’ve wanted the most in her life. or she’s not even sure what she really wants from texas, or she does know, but she wouldn’t ask it of her. there’s a tremble from her whole body as she just holds texas close to her, chest to chest, her ears pressed back. then kissing her again, with the desperation she held of her entire life knowing and being in love with texas. there are too many reasons why. she probably simply doesn’t reach for what she selfishly wants. she’ll do anything for her but for what she wants for herself. her black claws scratch lightly to texas’ skin, her tongue seeking texas’, a soft needy sound from her throat. she could think, well maybe she could simply use her tongue or fingers or whatever else if texas might simply want relief. it could be simple as that, she might even prefer it. but she’s always wanted to kiss her, to be with her, hold her close almost painfully tender. even with all the violence in her there’s all the infatuation in her to texas. all the fantasies she has of mating her roughly, but she also just wants to kiss as well. maybe this won’t last, she’ll steal kisses at least while texas allows her. ]
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that she should reconsider, leave, avoid. now it's....maybe it was tiring, maybe it wasn't. whatever was happening in that five months had been big enough to make her start thinking more.
about some of her actions, about if she might ever see those rainy skies or lungmen's own any time soon. from how she's thinking, it felt like they never will. texas has that feeling, and there isn't much that she may ever be able to do while trapped. all she can do is make the most of their now mutual hell, being somewhere she can try to do things differently at, but that's not going to be easy for herself. that spade mark does like to give cellinia more trouble than she'd admit.
from the mockery to preying upon certain behaviors of herself, and as annoying as it is....it was sadly what made her think about everything further. that she's caused a right mess in her own life, she has yet to fix that or do anything about after everything over the years.
texas might not be talking, but maybe she did feel like she would have when they were younger. being seen this way. nude, but she has plenty of scars. beautiful in how she holds herself back from that raging storm she always carries in her, that is cellinia texas. despite it, she's pulled close and despite it all, she kisses lappland. desperation, that was met with neediness. her lips part so easily for lappland's tongue and to lick into it. she wasn't the best of kissers (with her slowly getting more experience in that, she doubts that'd change too) though it doesn't stop her from getting comfortable pressed against lappland. tender, but not tender. a shudder from claws going along her skin.
what a mess this is, cellinia couldn't even help the way those manicured claws press lightly against skin along lappland's back and shoulders in how she's holding on to her. she could honestly steal as many kisses as she wants, texas might even be thinking about doing the same. the only thing is that she's not thinking much about anything else. nothing mattered, not past the now. any worries could be another time, and any other things texas would need to do. she'd show her around later, maybe bring lappland by one of her favorite places to eat at. that's all texas can do while hoping for the best.)
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she knows her. she knows. she might dare to think and never admit she does actually know her the best after all. a pitiful woman who might never be totally truthful or honest even to her closest friend, who might never open herself to anyone... truly pathetic in a way even lappland herself has to struggle to sink to.
she really doesn't have time for that anymore, after a lifetime of being in love with her. this could be pleasure and just that, kissing her, nuzzling her, caressing those scars and marks on her body. ones she's familiar with and not. her obsessiveness battling with the careful and deliberate choice she's made of her heart. how she would kill for her or go to jail for her as a friend. she kisses thorough and yearning, and the pity and farce is in how she still thinks, she could possibly do even this as a friend. she finally knows she could spend time and energy and dedication to other goals. this is simply indulgence and nothing else.
she moves to push texas down on the cushioned seats, not even breaking the kiss, moving simply to be on top of her with a press of her claws to texas' shoulder. keeping their bodies in contact; and a subtle brush of her thighs as she grinds against texas, the fur of her and the wetness of her she'd share to texas as her body and scent warms with desire. ]
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the wish that she changed, but texas doesn't want to bring the mood down talking about the circumstances around that event. much less mention how the landscapes used her memories, she didn't want to talk about it because it's better not to. not until another time and place for that where she might no longer be so miserably pathetic.
texas however, knows one thing, that goes as a two-way street between them. knowing one another too well, despite telling themselves they do not, that they weren't that close. that's the problem in itself, isn't it? texas can say that of all the people she knows that lappland can read her to a point others could not. that maybe they both can do as easy as breathing between the soft sighs she makes between kisses, the nuzzling, and fingers running along patches of scars. she has too many. physically, probably otherwise, but she wants to lie more to herself. the only problem is that her lying wasn't working against the feeling of her lips. obsession from lappland, yearning from texas that she might not be able to say. sweet, poisonous, wanting.
her back hits the seats, beneath her this time and hair curtaining behind texas. like she were on one of the adult magazines she's seen around the resort, regardless of the pitiful state of her body. their bodies fit too well together, from that press of them and not daring to part when texas' arms goes around lappland proper, from the grind of their hips together. she moans, she moans into the kiss. feeding them like the sweets she often eats to lappland, her own hips rutting, grinding slowly against lappland's own. for someone that tells herself and lies so often to herself, there's nothing she can think about other than the feeling of heat, skin to skin, lips against lips with shivers running down her spine. sensual, but that can change to being graceless at any time.)