What Ming Yi wishes, at this moment, is for a mask that covers more than half the face. The entire face would work, or the entire body. Preferably, he would also simply not be here.
If he thought this was an easier means to making money than playing Game 52, he clearly underestimated the relative difficulty curve. It wasn't his choice to make a bold moveābut of course he couldn't have started with something simple like "sniff neck." Of course his luck had to fail.
Ming Yi gives the other man a long, long look, and it's not clear if he's appraising, judging, considering, or if the brain behind those dead fish-like eyes has simply ceased to function. Something in him stirred at the sight, of clothing falling away and a smooth chest, despite his years of perpetual reticence to such basic things. For the first time he questioned the quality of the food present.
After an awkwardly long moment, Ming Yi turns away and reaches for the dice again.
"That roll doesn't count."
Yet, before he can grab the dice again, a staff member lays a hand over them. "I'm sorry, sir, but all rolls must be completed before a new game can start. Would you like to forfeit this round?"
...
Given that there's no prize if he forfeits even one round, Ming Yi pulls his hand away.
Then turns back to Jin Guangyao, and stands, towering over him.
He already gave his consent, and hopefully he's still looking away, as the only way to make this worse would be to watch him. The length of the Earth Master's high ponytail slips over his shoulder, tickling the bare skin of his companion's chest as he leans over him. Cold lips part over his skin on the right half of his chest, and then, there's the teeth, grazing and attempting to dig ināthough there's not much meat to do so, and Ming Yi doesn't have the desire to force a mark on a stranger whose name he doesn't even know.
In the end, he pulls away after leaving only a faint redness from the attempt.
He turns his eyes away as he wipes his mouth on his sleeve. "Now, you."
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If he thought this was an easier means to making money than playing Game 52, he clearly underestimated the relative difficulty curve. It wasn't his choice to make a bold moveābut of course he couldn't have started with something simple like "sniff neck." Of course his luck had to fail.
Ming Yi gives the other man a long, long look, and it's not clear if he's appraising, judging, considering, or if the brain behind those dead fish-like eyes has simply ceased to function. Something in him stirred at the sight, of clothing falling away and a smooth chest, despite his years of perpetual reticence to such basic things. For the first time he questioned the quality of the food present.
After an awkwardly long moment, Ming Yi turns away and reaches for the dice again.
"That roll doesn't count."
Yet, before he can grab the dice again, a staff member lays a hand over them. "I'm sorry, sir, but all rolls must be completed before a new game can start. Would you like to forfeit this round?"
...
Given that there's no prize if he forfeits even one round, Ming Yi pulls his hand away.
Then turns back to Jin Guangyao, and stands, towering over him.
He already gave his consent, and hopefully he's still looking away, as the only way to make this worse would be to watch him. The length of the Earth Master's high ponytail slips over his shoulder, tickling the bare skin of his companion's chest as he leans over him. Cold lips part over his skin on the right half of his chest, and then, there's the teeth, grazing and attempting to dig ināthough there's not much meat to do so, and Ming Yi doesn't have the desire to force a mark on a stranger whose name he doesn't even know.
In the end, he pulls away after leaving only a faint redness from the attempt.
He turns his eyes away as he wipes his mouth on his sleeve. "Now, you."