gwyndolence

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn's head tilted as he watched Dmitri retreat further. He could sense how the wolf's fear was overpowering any lingering lust in his scent, all his mannerisms a shallow echo of the confidence the slave had been projecting earlier. All that over a little cut? It was disappointing, yes, but it nearly made the sith laugh too. "Of course you can trust me," He said, matter-of-fact, that put-upon look of desolation melting into Gwyn's more authentic amusement as he relaxed out of his pose, "Why would I ask otherwise?"

The record was buzzing static, needing to be turned over. He stood rather gracefully for still being mussed and sticky with the hybrid's release, and wandered over to do so, the strains of the next song quickly filling the room. That was much better. "You know that if I was going to feed from you and didn't care, then I would've simply done it, yes?"

Dmitri had slipped out of roll now and seemed unable to get it back in his current, wary state. He stepped away from Gwyn entirely, crossed the room to look back in the mirror again at his bleeding thigh. He lifted the skirt, let out a sigh of annoyance and reached for a tissue, putting pressure on the cut to stem the bleeding. He looked back over his shoulder at Gwyn, shaking his head, clearly anxious.

"How can I trust you now? No. We're finished. Leave me alone." The cut closed up quickly and Dmitri let the bunched up tissue fall to the floor. He stayed very firmly on the other side of the room, arms folded. Gwyn was trying to take liberties that Dmitri had been unwilling to give and it was completely within his power to simply force Dmitri, should he want. Dmitri had to know that his no would stay a no.

[gwyndolence]

"As many times as I want?" Gwyn echoed teasingly, his eyes fixed and hungry on the way Bradley was twitching under his touch. He shivered as he envisioned how good it would feel to be buried in that eager warmth, his cock aching in the confines of his costume at the thought. "I'll hold you to that, my darling." He needed little other incentive. Gwyn pressed forward to lick into him again, his thumb dragging down to massage that velvet skin between where the sith's mouth was working and the Seelie's balls. He released his tight grip on the base of Bradley's cock, though his fist stayed closed and firm around the straining flesh, working over the glistening tip again and again instead -- determined, just as Bradley had imagined, to milk the pretty faerie for everything he had.

Every little thing Gwyn did to him felt like fucking magic, and Bradley was getting closer and closer to the edge of what he imagined would be the most incredible orgasm. When he felt Gwyn stop, the seelie practically fucking whimpered, his cock throbbing in the sith's tight grip, his hole trying to close around something that was no longer there teasing him. "Y-Yes-- yes-- fuck-- please, Gwyn," Bradley begged, whining softly at the way the sith's thumb rubbed against his wet hole, his cock twitching again in response despite the tight grip around the base. "Please.. I'll let you fill me.. as many times as you want.." Bradley murmured. "Please, I promise.. I need-- I need this.." he begged, his cock borderline painfully hard.

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn grinned in triumph as Valentin caught himself, the grin only widening as the other vampire's fingers slid into his, squeezing playfully at his hand. He hadn't spent all that time poking around in the councilman's space to not be able to guess at certain things about him. That he was careful, perhaps a bit paranoid, was not a difficult conclusion to come to. Even if it seemed Valentin's defenses had a rather large gap in the shape of snooping fae.

The sith's eyes lit up at the potential for further styling. He was Roland's fledgling, after all, deeply interested in matters of dress, even if his tastes diverged dramatically in some places from his sire's. Perhaps that was why Gwyn had never considered trying to gussy up Roland before, who was more than capable of selecting the best for himself. Valentin was hardly a desperate case, he just needed something more... exciting.

"Tight can be fun," Gwyn wiggled his brows, tittering even as he nodded, "But I will keep that in mind. Who knows what risky feats of derring-do you may be called on to perform in the midst of hot chocolate and caroling?"

Valentin favored dressing himself in neutral colors. He liked turtlenecks and tailored suit jackets, liked to wear comfortable jeans in a dark wash and boots when he wanted to ride his motorcycle. He had a beloved leather jacket that he'd taken good care of for years, the material now soft and buttery from use. He thought he looked rather sophisticated or at least like a man of his station. But perhaps he was a bit... Boring. Maybe it was good to have Gwyn take such an interest in his fashion choices.

He allowed the scarf and didn't touch it when Gwyn was finished. He met the sith's gaze, amber eyes steady. He blinked slow and tilted his head ever to slightly to the side. He'd smudged kohl around his eyes as a warrior but only to keep the sun from shining too brightly in his eyes when he'd be able to withstand the rays. He never thought of using makeup for the purpose of aesthetic, to enhance the unnatural color he'd gained from vampirism. Interesting.

He opened his mouth to say armor, then closed it abruptly. He huffed and reached up to touch his fingertip to Gwyn's before splaying out the rest and lacing their fingers together, gently moving Gwyn's hand down so that it wasn't up and accusatory.

"You may style me to your heart's content," he gave. "Hair, what you deem fit for my eyes. If this goes over well for the holiday, maybe I'll hire you for all my big events, si? As for what I feel confident in... Whatever allows me to move. I don't like stiff clothes or when they're tailored too tightly."

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn wandered up with a pleased smile, admiring the tableau Aneirin had made of himself in the sith's absence. He had almost thought he would refuse in the end. "That's a good pet," The sith strolled around him to fully appreciate the sight of his elder splayed out so willingly, stepping carelessly over his outstretched legs, "I knew you had some obedience lurking in you after all." Aneirin had only pushed down his jeans and not what lay beneath them, but that was alright. It would make it more intense when Gwyn had him do so later, after he'd gotten accustomed to the feeling of the cane through fabric first. The imagined sight of Aneirin's arse being hugged from below by the band of his underclothes while Gwyn striped it red was also mightily appealing. He ended up standing just to the right of Aneirin's knee, gently tapping the inside of his leg with the cane's end. "A little wider here," Gwyn hummed, then cocked his head. A small smirk flickered across his face and the next light touch of the cane's end came right at the apex of Aneirin's spread legs, flicking ever so gently against the tender, covered skin of his groin below the curve of his cheeks, "Lift, darling."

He was, in truth, focusing more intensely on that sight than he was on the statistics Aneirin was dutifully rattling off for him. His eyes flit up to meet the councilman's as Aneirin's head turned to glance at him and Gwyn's smile broadened as he glimpsed the apprehension on the elder fledgling's face. "Oh, it does. Though I may still have to ask you for a more thorough explanation later. For now..." He walked around Aneirin's side and came to crouch on his heels directly in front of him, cupping the man's chin in his hand, "Stay just as you are, pretty thing. We're going to expand your knowledge of your collection together. But I don't want to hear a word out of you that I haven't asked for. Understand?"

Darling. The tone of Gwyn's voice was eerily similar to Sophia's, her choice of words, her pet names. Aneirin let his forehead rest against the rug, had to close his eyes for a moment, remind himself that he was not in Wales and not with her. Still, Aneirin's hands moved without him meaning them to, dutifully unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans and slid them to halfway down his thighs. He kept his eyes tight shut, his hands clenching and unclenching in the plush of the rug as he tried to centre himself. Tried and failed. It was embarrassing to be like this around Gwyn, improper, and even so he couldn't prevent it.

Then Gwyn was back in the room. Aneirin didn't move, he didn't even look up, keeping his forehead pressed against the rug. Sophia had trained him very well and he hadn't been given permission. "I have tested all of the canes I have here, except your gift. So twenty-one. If you mean how many have I been struck with, fifteen." When he was asked a question by Sophia, she always expected as precise an answer as Aneirin could give. The figure he gave was just for the canes, hoping, and yet not expecting, that Gwyn hadn't been in his other drawers.

Aneirin paused, considering whether he'd given a complete answer. He hadn't, he supposed. "The number I have here is approximately a third of my full collection. In total I own more than three hundred impact toys. I haven't counted the other accouterments recently." Finally, he opened his eyes, dared to glance over his shoulder at Gwyn. His gaze wasn't defiant anymore. Now it was nervous. "Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

[gwyndolence]

"You know how it feels being cut by them in battle, then," Gwyn laughed, obviously finding the notion that the two sensations might be comparable rather silly. "I don't intend to fight you, Florian," His voice danced along each syllable of the kresnik's name, stretching it out, smiling guilelessly back at the doctor, "Quite the opposite." They were friends now, after all, weren't they? Or at the very least, partners in crime. Gwyn's eyes widened in faux-upset at the doctor's next commenting, tutting, "A man has to eat, my dear. And even if the idea may surprise you, there are many out there wiling to offer it up of their own free will. Some who even enjoy it without my help."

"I am familiar but I doubt that you are experimenting for the same reasons that I would." The doctor replied as he worked, glancing briefly at the others sharp claws walking across his wooden table. "Oh I know what being cut by those feels like, remember I fought in the Second War." Florian smiled and looked up at the master when he felt the talon trailing across the underside of his chin, instead of being nervous that Gywn's talons were near his throat, the doctor chuckled. "What would be kind is not to use your claws at all on anyone." Florian said maintaining eye contact. "Or you might find out that others bite back."

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn felt the moment the boy lost himself, the shuddering of his muscles, those desperate mewling sounds giving way to breathless hitching gasps as Taliesin quivered underneath him. It was dreadfully compelling and the sith didn't let up on his attentions until he was certain Taliesin had wrung himself out entirely, grinding leisurely down against the slave's trapped, twitching cock with slow little circles of his hips. By the time Gwyn pressed one last kiss to his skin and pulled away, Taliesin's nipples were flushed and swollen, his chest heaving in short bursts as the human fought for air. He was gorgeous like this.

"Well done, my lovely," Gwyn cooed, simply laying against him and stroking his hand through Taliesin's hair as if petting him for performing a clever trick. He caressed his thumbs against Taliesin's cheeks, brushing away the drying tears. The sith was still flushed and so very hard, but it was good to tease it out, letting the sight of the boy in the wake of his orgasm be a steady kindling for his lust. "You can stay in that position as long as you like, darling, but you don't need to hold it anymore."

Taliesin's expression had slipped into a kind of bewilderment - at Gwyn, at himself. There was a glassy sheen over his eyes, and equally so his lips, wet and fallen open around a string of sounds incomprehensible to language. He thought to curl his hands into fists around the sheets, but seemed somehow incapable of moving the muscles to allow it. He shuddered, almost crying at just the flick of Gwyn's tongue, then actually crying at the nip of Gwyn's teeth.

It was strange, the closer that Taliesin got to orgasm, the less aware he became of his body. The sensation was curious, almost as if he was floating above himself, out of alignment with physical reality. The first thing that Taliesin knew about his orgasm was the sudden, wet, warm splash of cum between his own ass cheeks, where his dick was currently being held by several layers of tape. If he was making any sound at all, which undoubtedly he was, Taliesin couldn't even hear it. Whatever thought was supposed to be in Taliesin's head, the one he heard had an almost anthropological interest in what was happening. So that answers that question, it said, with a little notepad out. You can cum just from having your nipples played with.

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn's head tilted, catching something guarded in Seth's expression. "A bit of treason," He said unabashedly, flashing the gancanagh a wink, "That tends to do it. And with it being just after the war... well, you can understand why tempers ran so high." Personally, Gwyn thought his fellow fae would've been better served hiding themselves properly from hunters rather than trying to track him dead, but that was the way of things. A thought occurred to him, "Were you around for those times, my friend?"

"Huh." Seth paused and drank as he processed that. Gwyn might've painted Roland as a hero in that portrayal though the younger fae's bias wouldn't so much agree. Not that he'd say that out loud here and now. They both had their own experiences with the councilman that influenced their opinions on him. "What'd you do to earn such a bad rep?"

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn was going to protest that all a faerie really had was his word, but those fingers tightened and only a small squeak came out instead, the sith squirming instinctively even though he knew it couldn't be helped. His relief was palpable when the officer's grip loosened instead of turning deadly, but between that and the substances still lingering in Gwyn's system turning the streetlamps into a rainbow of light behind Ransom's head, he was struck dumb a moment by the challenge. It made more sense, though, the longer Gwyn considered it. The officer had no other reason to be so handsy that he could think of. "I can show you," The sith murmured with a smile, pulling at the strings on his corset until the top tie came undone, the tight lacings loosening with a deep breath, more of his bare chest peeking out between the crossed ribbons, "Not many places I could hide anything from you."

"You expect me to take your word." Ransom's hand tightened around Gwyn's throat. He knew full well the Baobhan Sith couldn't actually straight out lie to him like any Faerie, but when it came to anything mixed with a vampire the truth wasn't really the point. "Prove it." His hand loosened its tight grip on the master's neck. "Prove to me you're not a threat. I'm sure you can think of a creative way." Course his other hand had shifted from the cuffs to the butt of his gun in its holster because he wasn't stupid and he wasn't really doing anything, but changing the threat he was to Gwyn in that moment.

[gwyndolence]

The energy shifted so suddenly Gwyn himself felt quite in the lurch, clinging to Dmitri more tightly out of instinct before he registered the acrid scent of fear and loosened his grip, permitting the escape even as the sith's pupils somehow dilated even wider than they already were. There was a thin trail of crimson winding down the slave's thigh, and Gwyn's unblinking eyes fixed on it, the sith still crouched, a hands bracing himself against the floor. He looked cat-like for a moment, head low, the very picture of a creature about to pounce.

Then he blinked, Gwyn's face going soft and surprised all at once, all that predatory grace in his posture crumpling into something wounded. Behind his mask, the sith recalculated, considering everything the slave had shown of himself yet. Gwyn had to be in the right mood, really, to be titillated by fear. "Мне жаль," The apology came out quivery in the werewitch's tongue, Gwyn staring up at him with a show of quiet desperation in his eyes. The claws, he forced to retract, unsticking the points from the wooden floors and crossing his arms behind his back instead, each grasping the opposite wrist. "Punish me if you must, I won't try again."

Initially, Dmitri had been quite pleased with himself. His first encounter at Krovs and he had the vampire on his knees instead. Quite the turnaround. Now, though, watching Gwyn lick at his skin as if he wanted to eat it, Dmitri was beginning to worry that he'd lost control of the scene. He tried his best to keep his poker face, but his pulse was giving him away, becoming erratic under Gwyn's minstrations.

"No," he snarled, insisting, as he wrenched his hand away. He pulled his foot back too, began to extract himself, entirely, from Gwyn's grip. "You want more, you won't get off at all." He jerked in Gwyn's grasp, hissing at the talon caught against his skin, scraped at it. "Let go. Let go." There was a fear in Dmitri's eyes now, a wildness unsettling the calm that had been there before.

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn couldn't help the grin that stole across his face at Cassian's coy little admission, "Is that so?" He teased, hand tracing the shape of the light he'd seen inside of him, trailing down to Cassian's ribs and then his back, holding the dragon's body against his, "I'm glad I could satisfy." It was an easy enough answer for Gwyn's curiosity, currently more preoccupied anyway with enjoying the warmth and weight of Cassian on top of him, the feeling of fullness from having him still seated inside. The sith basked in it like a cat in a beam of sunlight, his wandering touch silently encouraging Cassian to settle closer and not be afraid of laying against him, of lending Gwyn's cool flesh some of his heat. Cozied together like this, chest to chest, he could hear Cassian's heartbeat like it was his own. He liked that.

Gwyn stirred with a questioning hum as his doctor spoke again, his gaze sharpening from dreaminess near-instantly at the words and darting to that innocently offered neck. For a moment, the sith had no reply, so pleasantly shocked was he. Then he laughed, a musical, affectionate sound, reaching up to take Cassian's face in his hands and turning the dragon's head back to meet his eyes. "You are very perceptive, my Sherlock," Gwyn grinned up at him, showing off a line of blunt, human-seeming teeth, "I am a blood-drinker, to be sure, but I have no intentions of biting you. Not like that, at least." He scrunched up his nose in amusement, "And no plans to kill you either, so you may tell your lawyer to rest easy."

When Gwyn came again was when Cassian was truly satisfied. He gave a breathless little smile, pleased. He brought his hand up to his mouth to lick off Gwyn's spend and when he was finished, he nearly pulled out before Gwyn stopped him. Cassian nodded and stayed where he was, just sort of pressed against the sith and partially squishing him against the bed with his warm body. It felt good to still be connected so carnally, luxuriating in the afterglow of their orgasms together.

His eyes flicked down to his chest as if the lightning was still sparking inside him. He gave a shy little grin. He fully knew why it had happened. Cassian was a young dragon and his control of his element was shaky at best. He didn't practice with it enough, too absorbed in his career to bother. To have it get nearly so out of hand this time? That was something different. That was an ancient part of his biology trying to call out and he refused to admit it out loud.

"Not exactly," Cassian answered vaguely. "It's usually just sparks when I breathe out. You just feel that good on my cock, sweetheart."

Now that he wasn't so absorbed in their sex, he could feel the pinpricks from Gwyn's claws in his arm. He looked at the blood slowly dripping down, following the line of the muscle of his forearm. Careful not to squish Gwyn any more than necessary, he leaned down and in, turning his head to the side to expose the vein pulsing in his neck.

"I clocked you as a blood drinker at the bar," he admitted, "You can bite me if you promise not to kill me. I've been getting around to my last will and testament but me and my lawyer have been playing phone tag and then I moved to Russia. You know how it is."

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn echoed the witch's laugh, shaking his head, "Is that such a bad thing?" He teased, "I can see you now, in just the right pair of glasses. Plenty of people find intelligence attractive, you know." Ironically, the sith was usually ambivalent to that particular trait, as shamelessly as he was flirting now. He liked charisma, he liked good humor, he liked to see desire in another's eyes. He thought he might see it in Cairo's eyes now.

He smiled broadly as the tug of the other's magic stole the glass from his hand, a likely nail on the coffin of where the sith would wind up spending the rest of his evening. Message received. "I had mine prepared, but now you've intrigued me, friend," Gwyn said warmly, leaning forward on his forearms, rewarding Cairo's heavy gaze with his own encouraging look, "Where does your invitation lead?"

"Make me sound like a nerd." Cairo laughed, not that it was all that far off. He was too smart for his own good, never one to bring it up. It wasn't like any of achievements transferred to the real world from where he'd been.

"I'm still sitting here aren't I." Cairo said eyes never leaving the younger master as magic was used again, this time to pull his glass to his hand effortlessly. He wasn't a slave and he really only had to answer to the council, not any lower level master like Gwyn when it came down to it. Cairo was well aware of his worth and pedigree. It was why he didn't venture into the undercroft. There was nothing in there for someone like him. "Or are you waiting for me to extend the invitation?"

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn beamed at such blanket permission, easy to please with a bit of indulgence. But getting to dress a councilman for a public event was more than just a bit. He was going to have to make a keen effort for this. "You'll like it," The sith promised, hands busy tying Valentin's scarf into an elegant twist, "I'm not just going to dress you how I like to, even if I think it would be an enjoyable sight. People look better anyhow if they like their clothes." It was funny, that Valentin did seem to have nice, colorful things, to enjoy them, even if his wardrobe was so sparing from Gwyn's point of view. He just needed permission to be colorful for himself. What better time than the holidays?

Done with his arranging and satisfied with the outcome, Gwyn laid himself sideways against the back of the sofa, leaning closer as he inspected Valentin's face. "Will you let me style you too? Do your hair and your eyes? You have very lovely eyes." It would be easy to do, nothing like the extravaganza of glitter Gwyn had done for Taliesin on Halloween, just a bit of liner to bring them into focus. "What makes you feel confident to wear? And don't say armor," Gwyn said reproachfully, pointing a scolding finger before Valentin had the chance to defend himself.

The sith was such an adorable creature. Valentin watched his eyes as they lit on his visible belongings and had a feeling that he was going to get snooped on again while he was out. So long as Gwyn didn't touch things that were purposely locked away, he didn't mind. The swords, both long and short, axes, javelins, and the like were artfully displayed for a reason. It was like Valentin was openly inviting anybody who came into his suite to try and fight him with whatever they could get their hands on. He had spent so long fighting with these very tools that he could count on one hand the number of people he'd be wary of who could wield them.

Other than his displayed weapons of years past, Valentin had a weakness for fresh flowers and stained glass. He had pieces of stained art framed and hung where artificial light could filter through, casting his suite is delicate washes of color here and there. Magicked vases in a Spanish style, differing sizes, bore work from artisans in his home country and touted flora that took longer to wilt. He had pots hung up with plants that flowed with creepers and vines. A rather large monstera that looked like he'd been caring for it for years took up a corner in the kitchen. Other than these things, Valentin didn't seem to collect or care for anything else.

"Yes, it's a tried and true color choice," Valentin agreed. He watched Gwyn get closer and didn't move to stop him, only moving his candy to the side of his cheek so he could take a sip of his drink and enjoying how the tastes mingled together. He dipped his head forward to allow the scarf and used his free hand to pick up one of the ends and rub the fabric between his fingers. "I'll let you choose what I wear for the holiday and if I like what you've put together, I will wear it. I promise to keep an open mind."

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn had been about to answer when Kell deftly spun them and he found his back hitting the bed, a delighted laugh escaping the sith before those clever fingers were wrapping around him. Gwyn canted his hips up into the touch with a hungry sigh, enjoying Kell's attentions after so much teasing before he flit his eyes up to the handsome slave's face with a mischievous smirk. "You never did claim your victory from the sparring mat," Gwyn replied, his thighs falling open in a clear invitation even as he kept speaking, "But I know how close you were back in the bar, darling. If I let you fuck me, just how long can I expect you to last?" The notion that Kell seemed open to letting the master fuck him for the human's own enjoyment and not just because of what was expected by their roles was an exciting one, but Gwyn in that moment was enjoying this form of teasing enough to shelf the idea for later.

The human had never exactly been very vocal when it came to sex even before coming to Krovs, preferring to move things along instead of talking things through. He was doing his very best to not just rip the damn pants right off of Gwyn since they were both clearly feeling impatient, but he forced himself to take his time. His lips parted against Gwyn's in a low moan at the nip before Kell forced himself to push the master back a little so that he could properly focus on getting the older man completely undressed. For a second, he thought that the sith might actually fight him on it, but then Gwyn seemed to catch on to what exactly Kell was trying to do and let himself be pushed away.

it seemed to take too damn long to remove his pants and Kell growled impatiently again, his movements less than gentle as he yanked them down and tossed them aside. Only then did Kell let Gwyn press him down against the mattress again, tugging the sith down so that he could trail a series of playful nips along his jaw and neck. "Depends." He muttered, rocking his hips up against the older man's, his grip tightening on the master. "You want me to fuck you or would you prefer to be on top?" Kell used his hold on Gwyn to flip them, smirking down at the sith. His hand slipped down, wrapping around the master's cock to stroke him slow, teasing. "Not feeling picky myself."

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn's eyes only got larger, rounder, pale green staring into those black pits as the officer's hand clamped down and pulled him closer. He might not need to breathe but the hold was still an obvious threat and Gwyn would have a mightily painful time trying to heal from a crushed throat. He would've shifted into his bird form already if he didn't think it likely the half-formed dragon could snatch him out of the air just as fast. "No, no, not at all," Gwyn managed to simper, keeping his voice soft and sweet as he wavered on his heels again, making himself loosen his grip on the officer's arm though he didn't let go, "I'm no threat to you, sir, you know that."

It was small and could go unnoticed if someone wasn't looking, but it was there when the hand grabbed his arm to stop him and the plea came. There was something about the place that changed people, he'd heard that said a number of times and maybe there was some truth to that. In New York he'd have just gone about his job like normal, but a heat ran through him when he started down into the master's eyes. His hand moved from the other's chest where it had been holding him to encircle his throat, elbow bending to bring them intimately closer. "You trying to resist?"

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn was nearly squirming in his seat despite Khion's calm demeanor, the panic flooding his system making a more persuasive argument for what his mood should be in the moment. The sith had never had to confront someone who knew him before with that he was now - at least, not someone who wasn't trying to kill him. Not someone he liked. "Maybe," He said meekly, "If it... came up." Gwyn grabbed for his drink impulsively, then stopped, not even managing to convince himself to drink it now that Khion was watching him do it. "When Roland and I met in Paris, I was... well that is, we aren't just friends, you understand." The relevant word was trying to crawl out of him and Gwyn hated having to say it, so alien all of the sudden. "He became my - he is the reason I'm... like this now?"

"Why don't you just tell me and I'll decide whether it's worth getting upset about or not," Khion suggested, calm as ever despite how he learned about this news of his friend. Off the bat, he wasn't mad or anything that Gwyn was apparently a vampire now –– hey, if that was his friend's choice he'd support it as long as he was happy. Though he was a little peeved he found out through the bartender who soon returned with their refills. Khion took a much needed sip from his glass, turning to face Gwyn with his elbow propped on the bar counter. The baobhan sith now had his rapt attention to dive into his tale. "I mean, were you going to mention this change at any point at all?"

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn couldn't help but grin at the invitation, ever the one to rise at the hint of a challenge. Besides, he seemed to have survived the ancient beast once. Surely the sith could manage it a second time. He stretched out on the couch as if he fully intended to relax there a long while, streaked with blood and seed and likely still some alcohol, not even bothering to worry about how he'd get back to his suite naked as the day he was born - another perk of invisibility. He was pretty sure he could reach the cigarettes in what was left of his trousers without getting up once the tribrid was gone.

"Don't you worry, my sweet," Gwyn tittered, blowing Raiden a satisfied kiss from his lounging state, "I'll be looking." Though maybe he wouldn't wear one of his favorite pairs of pants next time.

Raiden glanced at the sith watching him take a taste of him. He wasn't exactly like a regular tribrid not that any tribrid was natural. But he had their resident doctor Frankenstein to help make him the monster he was. It was why, after all the shit he'd been through with the eldest Gaudet twin, it was still alive.

The rare bit of amusement crossed his features. "Whenever you're ready to take that chance, you know where to find me." He didn't bother putting on his shirt tucking it in his back pocket. "Be seeing you, Fae."

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn,

Technically, I don't have the money to get you anything for Christmas (and I'm sure as hell not asking Tiernan for cash). But I thought we might have some fun with these. You did say you wanted to see me in a harness, right?

x Kell

x