#illumythic

[allswell]

There's so much to explore, Cecil thinks giddily. Just the tail could entertain him for hours, he's sure. But Alarian insists on playing the tease, so Cecil grips them all the tighter, hands trailing up the other's back until they can hug them beneath the shoulder blades.

❛ Aren't my guesses good enough? ❜

❛ Your tongue, for one. Your eyes as well. ❜

Both things that he could see but couldn't touch—at least not yet.

❛ You're under the impression that I want to escape at all, ❜ he adds with a laugh. ❛ If you're enticing enough, then I never have to leave, yes? ❜

He tilts his face upwards, frowning when he can't quite reach. ❛ ...you're too tall. ❜

"you do, don't you?" cooed words accompany a softened hiss, the arachnid's back arching -- folding within the embrace that pulls them in; fastens them to a place they willingly claim as their own. delighted claws rise from their resting place around their preys waist, crawling up along a spine set beneath the adapters touch. it finds a new place to settle, digits curling, hooking in.

chittering, alarian offers a tilted head, their tongue slithering back behind jagged teeth. their smile persists as mandibles take the place of guiding fingers, one such extension curling -- like a finger beneath cecil's chin. tilting, drawing him in.

"does a spider tell its dinner how to escape from its web? you'll get no secrets from me, little monarch."

lowering their head, they accentuate a hooded stare. as if daring the man to explore; find what he wished to know. all the while the mandible beneath cecil's chin lightly trails across the skin, slipping away as it -- and its twin -- retract; hidden away once more.

"you'll have to learn on your own, darling."

[occultacarne]

there's no harm in a little experimentation.

"SOOOOO... WHAT IF WE KISSED...?" PROMPTS

"A little experimentation, you say..." Sebastian muses. He's contemplating if it's worth the risk, though luckily for this creature, not much thought needs to be had. Sebastian grins and steps closer to Alarian.

"I am all up for a little experiment, Alarian. So, how about it? Will you let me give it a try?"

[isolaradiale]

my bad for the activity! gonna try and be better on that, so may i please reapply my Original Character, Alarian? application is still under /a ! thank you!

Welcome back!

You'll be staying in HOUSE 109!

You'll retain everything from your previous stay!

Enjoy!

--Mod Lyra

[isolaradiale]

hello! if i may, i'd like to apply as my original character, alarian, please! application can be found under navigation or /a !

Welcome to grey Isola Radiale, Alarian!

You'll be staying in Apartment 305

You'll be able to Spit Acid at half potency.

Obviously, you will keep your Tail, though it contains no venom at this time.

Enjoy your stay!

-- Mod Caelum

[uwps001]

Constantine does growl a low annoyed tone when his arm is pulled. Of all the strangers to come and bother, he had to choose him.

...silver blue orbs focuses on the stinger of their tail. "You think I treat anyone like my partner?" God. Whatever, so far he wasn't being TOO obnoxious, right?

"You just want to get in right?" He clicks his tongue and starts moving. For now, he will entertain the guy, but the moment things get too much he sure as hell will bite.

The inside of the place is relatively loud. Almost like a nightclub. There are people dancing on one side of the dance floor wild and free, and on the other side there are barstools, a bar, and places where you can sit and eat.

"oh, don't be so dense." alarian presents another pull, nuzzling into the arm in their hold. their captive made no move to pull away, not yet, and so the scorpion would make no attempt to release him. in fact, they're going to take every advantage that comes with that -- milk the attention for all it's worth.

"already spoken for, hm? then you should know how to care for a plus one." their dual-voice rises in a pleasant chirp, lips spreading into a widening grin. enough to part the segments that extended across their cheeks.

"you're my free ticket in," a creak sounds from their segmented tail, head of a stinger risen and shifted to sit over alarian's shoulder. steady and waiting. "and aside from a bit of bark, you're giving no bite. so, how about it? entertain me for an evening."

[wingherc]

｢𓆄｣ The last person to openly resent Hawks that came to mind was Endeavor, and even then, that was different. He was resented for running his mouth, not his outward appearance...Talk about unfair. Wings folded neatly on his back as he tried to make them as small as he could on his own relatively small frame. But, there was only so much he could do.

"Did I do something to you?" Hawks had his digital wallet to at least reimburse the shopkeeper, who seemed relatively neutral on the whole situation in general at least, passing it off to them to do what they needed with it. "Sorry I scared you and made the piece you wanted to buy shatter. But, in my defense: I just flew in to peruse wares myself as a patron."

"If you have a problem with me because of some preconceived notion due to my features: well that's just rude and I'm not going to tolerate that." It wasn't often Hawks showed off his more well spoken side, while he could admit where he was at fault, some of this just felt a little too extreme for him. And maybe the internal biases that the other held might've cut Hawks deeper than he'd like to admit. "If you're going to be unpleasant with me just because of things I can't control: I'm very willing to wash my hands of this whole interaction. I'm not going to waste energy entertaining this further."

"So: it's your choice to make. What'll it be?"

hips are adorned with a hand each, vexed stare shot forth while segmented joints curled; tail left to sit poised behind a fuming head of crimson. "save it," is their hissed response, broken apologies receiving no more than another slew of annoyed clicks from the scorpion, "i wasn't shopping for a sorry, you worm gobbler."

those red wings of his are given a swift look over, face scrunching in further irritation at their mere presence alone. a real shame, honestly, he might have been considered cute enough to forgive! but those flapping red flags and the adrenaline rush of a jump-started heartbeat don't leave much room for alarian to change their tone.

"what you should be giving is an offer on how you'll be making this up to me," ( and the shopkeeper, they supposed ).

[viladlind]

it's certainly not the first time somebody's made such a remark about her choice of drink. astarion's always had something to say about it, when they were sitting around the barely lingering campfire in the morning. and zevran, of course, with his affinity for a good cup of coffee ... her preference isn't good, she'll admit that much.

   but it's perhaps the first time somebody invites themselves to her seat and cup, acting as though she'd allowed either.

   she watches with interest, balances her writing feather in hand. reaching forward to shift the little ink pot away from them, she doesn't yet put her notebook away. if they want her full attention, they'll have to fight a little harder for it.

   ' if you wanted my attention, you could have just asked. ' it's lightly spoken, no true malice behind it. taking the same cup, fiyero rotates it until she spots the new line of charcoal alongside it ... takes a sip while framing her own lips over the print of theirs.

   ' i doubt you're as sweet as you say, but i'm not one to deprive people, sweetheart. ' she grins, looks them over pointedly. ' as you could tell, i have a taste for the more bitter things in life, too. '

with nonchalance, and practiced ease, clawed fingertips roll over the approached table top, tapping a path towards a preoccupied mug. what good was a visit to such a quaint cafe if left alone? it seemed a spot with ample opportunity to occupy themselves with someone else; a serving of attention for an ever insatiable want for it.

so, without delay, the scorpion invites themselves to a seat, and to a drink. a mug previously acquainted with lips of pink meets those of colorless coal, stealing a bitter sip of the coffee within.

after their fill, it's placed back down. as though nothing happened.

"quite bitter, i'm surprised. i was expecting something a little... softer." something that would match that delicious, pink hue.

"never was much for coffee. might i make a suggestion for tea?" they coo, elbows propping against the table as the adapter grew comfortable in the chair across their newfound target. lips curl, barely parted to bring a gentleness to their smile.

"or, maybe, something sweeter? like... me. ♡"

@viladlind

[unxdeadly]

she's not much of a shopper in general, due to some unwanted stress that typically comes along with it, but Giselle cannot help but be lured in by the mannequins on display. she's even less one for sentimentality, but sometimes her mind does wander to her companions. how Bambi would love the skirt on that mannequin, how Candi would like the crop top. Lil would enjoy the boots, Meni the stockings.

ugh. the heavy feeling that creeps into her chest and sits there makes her want to be sick.

thankfully: a distraction.

"Whoa--!" her eyes widen as she fully registers her company. "Talk about an alluring display. Window shopper or not, you must have a real hard time finding things. What with...you know," she gestures to their form, head tilted curiously.

fingers entwine behind their back, thumbs rolling thoughtfully over one another. within their soft hum sits a subtle clicking; mandibles chattering away with the reverberating sound behind sealed lips. beside the arachnids own reflection is another, their form crooked and bent almost sharply with how she leaned.

with eyes crinkling in amusement, alarian does much the same -- a mirroring of a pose similar -- while their gaze flickers from the storefront to the woman reflected upon it.

"certainly an alluring display -- quite crowded within, too!" they begin, a giggle rustling their dual-toned voice. "are we more of a window shopper? doing so only ever tugs at the impulses, in my experience."

@unxdeadly

[deceitsung]

❛ Hm ? ❜ It takes him a moment in between strums to realize that he's the one being talked to. The shocked expression that he wears as they approach quickly fades into an ever - so - slightly flustered one. It takes all of his might not to get tripped up by being approached so suddenly — but he composes himself , letting out a soft chuckle. ❛ It would be my pleasure. ❜

He tilts his head down to glance at the lute's strings , making sure he doesn't lose his place now that there's someone here distracting him. Not that the distraction isn't welcome , of course . . but what good is a song if he can't finish it ? He looks again up as he feels pressure on his shoulder. ❛ Well , do make yourself comfortable. I'll be here for quite a while. ❜

Between bouts of melody , his gaze wanders , taking a moment to look them up and down. They're unlike anything he's seen before. A pointed tail , multiple eyes . . it's unsettling , very much so , but there's something alluring about them. The flattery is certainly helping , too. ❛ Ah , I suppose you could say that. Not many of them are nearly as attractive as my current one , though. Do you have a name , or will good - looking suffice ? ❜

"do keep playing, won't you?" spoken as a softened plea, a gentle wave of clicks accompanying their request -- like a purr, to persuade. their tail creaks as it relaxes behind them, granting a sense of ease in the scorpions slow approach.

"i don't get to listen to such an instrument often enough," they add, clawed fingertips finding placement against the musician's arm, tip-toeing their way along the length of it. up, up -- until a shoulder is reached, their palm laid to rest over it. then, another comes to join it, creating a welcomed cushion for their chin to perch.

"--and you play it so well! you must gain quite the audience with your music, hmm?" another low series of clicks; echoing behind a jagged-toothed smile.

@deceitsung

[allswell]

❛ I'm never— ❜ satisfied, is what Cecil wants to say, but then his throat is caught and his voice swallowed up with it, making a noise that is half surprise and half hiss as the acid stings his skin.

❛ Nngh, this... ❜

❛ I like it...very much. ❜

His heels settle back onto the ground as he wraps both arms around the scorpion in an attempt to pull him closer. There's a warm, wet, stinging sensation where the other licks him; in return Cecil digs his fingers into Alarian's hair, losing his digits in the lush red locks.

❛ Your hair is so long, I could choke you with it, ❜ the assassin murmurs absently. ❛ But you have other soft spots, yes? Won't you—tell me where? ❜

His eyes are a little glassy, but they're still sparkling like gems.

colorless hues drift upwards, following a gaze of pink as it ascends and stares back; stares down upon them. adaptive soul does not break from the contact, but extends their focus to that running trickle of red. eyes -- another set -- follow the stray drop, watching it soak awaiting fabric.

a dash of color where it should not be, like the crimson strands held within a gloved hand. such a stark contrast against an, otherwise, pastel profile. it was alluring in its own right, sending tucked mandibles into a light buzz -- vibrating with a hum until they clattered together. an audible cue for their train of thought, of the idea of covering him further in vibrant red.

but it was a thought that was met with pause and a widening stare. three of a pair directed upward, pulled away from the bloody line down his throat.

' my turn to try and kill you '

they can feel a leap in their chest, heart set aflutter with a mixture of emotion. there's a familiar chill crawling up their spine, accompanied with a warmth most shouldn't feel towards such a phrase -- but they remember a closeness offered from a past attempt. it draws them in, makes them crave. "then come back to me... again and again, until you're satisfied."

last fallen syllables are matched with the scorpions lean inward, lips and jagged teeth parting to make way for extending fangs -- those once chattering mandibles reaching to latch against a pale throat. to secure their prey while an acidic tongue laps away that beautiful red.

"then, darling," they breathe, lips curling, "go ahead and try. just be warned -- i'm no easy kill."

[allswell]

His inquisitive touch meets equal parts curiosity and indulgence. They're almost holding hands after the dual digits curl, hairs brushing lightly against Cecil's skin. Then the tiny prick of pain alerts him to a cut on his chin, followed by the ticklish caress of blood trailing down his neck.

Cecil swallows instinctively, waiting for the advent of more agony in its wake. When nothing else happens, confused irises swivel towards the other as they continue speaking.

❛ I, ❜ he begins before an arm wraps around him. The marquis accommodates the touch by leaning comfortably against the limb, his other hand reaching out to grasp gingerly at the stray strands of red hair draped over the other's shoulder.

❛ I haven't had enough yet, ❜ Cecil speaks in a tone bordering on petulant.

❛ I'd keep coming back until I did. And then... ❜

They're about the same height, so he rises on tiptoes to look down from above, the fresh drop of blood sliding further down his throat until it dyes a spot on his lace collar red.

❛ It'd be my turn to try and kill you. Yes? ❜

it almost tickles, that inquisitive touch against their hand. hairs nestled within each segmented split of their digits tingled, coaxing the scorpions fingers to curl; grasping in return. alongside curling lips, they find themselves laughing -- at the sensory stimulant, as well as this man's chosen reply.

so visually delicate, yet unashamedly welcoming of consequence. warm, supple skin beneath the cool touch of exoskeleton, presented so beautifully; willingly.

"oh, do you?" segments creak, bending. stinger poised and pressed, its tip kissing at pale skin, drawing forth color; no more than a trickle.

"it would be quite entertaining to see how you'd fare, if you could take all i could give..."

"but, then, what would have you coming back?" they question, weight shifting to lower the prodding barb, their remaining, free arm coiling around an unclaimed waist.

"careful how you speak to me, little monarch, i might just want to keep you -- bury you away for later."

[allswell]

It's very novel to see one person but hear two voices, to say nothing of trying to hold eye contact with six pupils at once. Even the hand in his grasp has only two digits and a slightly fuzzy sensation that reminds him of a very thin carpet; he absently caresses the bright-green skin while trying to figure out what it might be.

❛ What do I have to lose? ❜ Cecil slowly raises his head, exposing not only his chin but a pretty stretch of throat, his Adam's apple bobbing beneath the stinger as he speaks.

❛ My life? I assure you, the thrill of death is far more rewarding— ❜

❛ —and I long to feel, little fencer, just how sharply your rapier might sting. ❜

mimicking a purr, alarian takes advantage of that lean; pressing in closer, themselves, with a mirroring grin. head tilts, held to the side while their stinger inches forward -- its tip like a guiding touch beneath their preys chin.

"within a minute," they repeat, that purr-esque clicking within the back of their throat continuing. "that's not terrible."

"i've yet to see a mortal rise, again, after a strike." but that's something that might change -- stripped of their venom as they are. a detail they need not, yet, share.

"are you certain you could handle me, darling?"

[allswell]

Oh, was this…gentleman making him an offer? The stinger is quite a look.

❛ For myself, yes. ❜

❛ I’ve been taking them regularly since I was young, so it’d be troublesome if I were to suddenly stop. ❜

"perhaps, but what would we have planned for it?"

"a dose for another? for yourself?" they follow with a hum, stinger curled against their shoulder.

[allswell]

His eyes flicker to the finger, before wrapping a hand gently against the other’s own.

❛ What can I say? I wasn’t a particularly talented child, so I had to do things the hard way. ❜

❛ As for my usual dose…well, I can usually restart my heart within a minute, so it’s not an issue? ❜ He leans in, smiling.

❛ So how potent is yours? Can I have a taste? ❜

"oh, aren't you cute? it's been ages since i've last known someone who's built up their resistance like that."

"how potent is your usual intake, hmm?"

curiosity leads them forward, guiding a pointed finger against the other man's chest. "enough to steal your breath away? perhaps skip a beat, or three?"

[uwps001]

"What the fuck?" Comes out in a disbelief whisper when he feels someone latch onto his arm. As if that weren't enough though, they're completely invading his space and don't give much room for Constantine to pull away.

"No. Actually, I don't understand." Despite the mild annoyance, be doesn't look it. "I'm already spoken for," he finishes with eyebrows furrowed. And this person wasn't his type either (Constantine doesn't have a type.)

When the stranger makes no plan to move, Constantine's silver-blue gaze lowers to meet theirs, "you don't even care do you?"

What has Constaitne gotten himself in THIS time?

"perfect timing, cuddle bug!" chimes an all too enthusiastic scorpion, quick to capture an unattended arm in their own. monochrome eyes flutter up towards a hair of pastel pink, an inward tilt of the head allowing their cheek to press against their chosen captive -- their attention for the evening ( accepted or not ).

"couples get in free for the night," they begin, fingertips tip-toeing casually up the length of the other mans arm, reaching a certain height before their palm is brought to rest. "a chance i just couldn't pass up, you understand?"

lips curl slowly, rising cheeks pushing shut lower pairs of eyes mirroring those that sat above them. the adapters grip grows firm, a subtle pull given to draw their catch along. "much like yourself." ( a chance they couldn't pass up ).

@uwps001

[wingherc]

｢𓆄｣ "Oh-!" Granted he was fast enough to try and catch the glass beaded jewelry with a feather, the downy soft quality of his feather well...That didn't play well with the glass and it slipped and busted anyway.

"Damn, that usually works." Sheepishly, a hand rested on the back of his neck as the feather went back to its home and nestled in his wings. "Sorry 'bout t--" But, as he went to apologize, he's cut off by their abrupt and abrasive tone, which left Hawks a bit shocked.

"Sorry, I just thought..." He might find something for his girl here, but...This was much more awkward than he was used to dealing with, the usually charismatic and charming hero felt like nothing more than a stuttering mess.

"do you mind?" through jagged teeth does a hiss escape, gaze of six sharply narrowed and trained on a red set of feathers. they had been enjoying a display; hand-crafted jewelry strung up and laid out for all to see. well, at least until an unwarranted flap of wings had alarian all but jumping out of their skin.

the reaction was enough to send them into a partial spiral, tail knocking against the table and shelves displayed. what had once caught their interest now lay at their feet, scattered and -- with great misfortune -- shattered. but would they take the blame? oh, no, not at all. things had been fine until someone else came along.

"tsk! look what you've gone and done, they were one of a kind!" mandibles click together within their mouth, adding to the low grumble that follows their complaint. "have you no nest to perch in? you know, away from everything else."

@wingherc