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Bellum Anon ([info]bellum_anon) wrote in [info]bellumlogs,
@ 2010-03-12 23:02:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:plot: fables

Fables Plot Public Post!
Who: Public
What: The Open Post for Public Threading for the Epic Fable Plot
Where: Throughout the building.
When: 12:01
Warnings: Any number of crazy things could end up in here.
Notes: Alright! This post is for public threads only, and will be run party style. Anyone can jump into a thread at any time--just use your judgment! Feel free to hop around, go to different parts of the building, and mingle through the madness.



12:01. The beginning of a new day, just broken in, still fresh. Most of the building was sleeping, as decent people ought to be at such an hour.

The building, down at its foundations, was restless. A storm had been gathering for the past week, in its joints and its doorways, in its windows and its keyholes. 12:01, the storm broke over Bellum.

It was as if the building stretched, yawned, shook itself. There was a shudder in reality, as if the air itself was nothing more than a funhouse mirror. Faster than you could snap your fingers and the thing was done, set into motion before the darkest hours of the morning had yet come around.

A twitch, a snap, a static shock.

And then the changes started.

((OOC: Alright guys, go crazy! Feel free to post your location in the header of your comment so people can do a quick visual scan for the right comment and the right location. Mingle! Chat! Fight! Tackle one another!))



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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]cyprian
2010-03-13 09:23 pm UTC (link)
Trenton had been getting into his car when the clock struck twelve. Dusting off the cool, thin cotton threads of a nondescript oxford shirt, he slid into the driver's seat. Distantly, he could hear church bells or a clock tower chiming the time. He took a moment to cuff the bleached sleeves up to the firm crest of his elbows, enjoying the warmth that purred from the interior vents of his BMW Roadster. He'd had every intention of heading across town for an after party, but suddenly wanted nothing more than to return to Bellum. Trenton hesitated, glancing down at the phone number sketched into the flesh of the back of his hand. The script was decidedly feminine in pink felt tip ink. A forget-me-not of naivete. A smile broke across the edges of an untame mouth, and Trenton dropped his chin to lick the phone number. It bled at the edges, just like a broken heart. Uncouth blue eyes slid up to the rearview mirror, captured by his own likeness. Goddamn, he was good looking.

The blade of his tongue ran across the number twice more before it melted into nothing but a sad, tinted blur. Then, forgoing his seatbelt, Trenton put the car into drive and sped back toward Bellum at a breakneck pace. But, by the time he pulled into the parking garage, he was having a problem. He'd become somehow unfamiliar with the steering wheel and the pedals beneath his feet. Trenton observed the odometer like it was something he'd never seen before. But this was his car.. how could he be so incredibly unfamiliar with it's technology? What kind of carriage was this?

When he wrecked, his foot had been off the gas pedal for a good while, so the damage was minor. His BMW scraped across two parked cars and into a concrete wall on the first level of the parking garage. But no matter, the carriage shuddered and stopped in it's strange tracks. Even if it did continue to growl like an irritated animal long after Trenton -- no, not Trenton, Dorian -- figured his way out of the driver's seat. The keys were left in the ignition, and the door was left wide. All he really bothered with collecting was the curved, sterling handle of his cane. Oh, and that stark, brimmed top hat from the passenger side. You know, the important stuff.

On his way through the lobby, he adjusted the wine colored cravat where it fed into the coal black of his shirt and silk vest. A sapphire stick pin tacked one lapel of his fitted tuxedo jacket, with it's operaesque tails. But if this outfit was any different from what he'd left the building in, he didn't seem to notice or mind. Why would he? He looked fairly amazing, if he said so himself. With a new, elegant swagger, Trenton boarded the elevator and jabbed the penthouse floor button with the sterling handle of his cane.

Of course, instead of stopping at the penthouse floor, the doors opened at the Deluxe. Although, he couldn't say that he minded when the first thing he noticed was the blonde woman making her way down the hall. Ah! Someone to fawn over him! Perfect!

"My lady," he removed his hat with a brief tilt of his head. Only after the polite words ran free from his mouth did Trenton realize that something was off. My lady?

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]longedforstill
2010-03-13 10:32 pm UTC (link)
The voice was smooth as silk, and when he doffed his hat her smile went decidedly predatory. Dark hair, a gentleman (if from a different period than her dark-haired prey), and oh so pretty.

Things suddenly looked much, much better for Guinevere.

She walked up to him, her hair almost white in its paleness, her eyes a pale grey, and she ran one, delicate finger from the snowy white of his cravat down, down over the expensive buttons of his pure-white shirt and stopping at the waistband of his pants. "Milord," she said, voice undeniably wanting-warm, "verily, I have been seeking thee." She paused, frowned.

What was she saying?

A moment later, and her eyes cleared, as if everything made sense in that one moment.

And it did.

She slipped her hand down, down over his cane, fingers sliding up to the silver top and stroking.

Stroking.

Stroking.

"Well, hello, beautiful."

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]cyprian
2010-03-13 11:55 pm UTC (link)
A smile took the edges of his mouth; slight, but covetous. This woman was beautiful, easily as beautiful as Sibyl. Although he couldn't remember where he'd ever met someone named Sibyl. The worry was unimportant, and easily disengaged when the woman had her fingertips on him. He didn't move, but declined his chin to admire the pale kiss of her touch as it wandered down, down. He hardly heard what she said, really. Especially after she manhandled his cane.

"Careful," he warned. Reaching out without worry of condemnation to catch the edge of her cheek in his hand. His touch was firm with possession when he ran the edge of his thumb along the underside of her jaw. "I might assume you're trying to make me jealous.."

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]longedforstill
2010-03-14 02:17 am UTC (link)
She practically purred at the touch. It was sure and young and forbidden and everything she wanted from a touch in that moment. It wasn't the hand of an old man who wanted her on a pedestal of purity, and she slid two fingers carefully over the head of the cane, her gaze fixed on his blue eyes. "Who says I'm not?" she asked, fingers circling the cold silver expertly. Her gaze was every bit as challenging and possessive as his own. Here was no demurring flower. No.

"Maybe I want to see if you're man enough to take what you want," she said, biting her lower lip with unrepressed desire after she asked the question.

Yes, please.

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]cyprian
2010-03-14 07:45 am UTC (link)
The woman's candor was impressive; both in the erotic lull of her words, and the pale hold of her eyes amidst the swarthy frame of doe lashes. This was no coquettish waif. "What makes you think I see something I want?" He countered with a rising smile and a mild tilt of his head.

But those words were contradictory to the advances he soon took. The back of a hand cruised a slow ride up along the hip of her gown. Until he caught the fabric in dexterous knuckles for a languid, but sturdy twist. The dress rucked in his hand, and Trenton used that handful of it for leverage. As far as he was concerned, the only function of her dress was that of a soft, white bridle. He used it to tug the young woman against him.

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]longedforstill
2010-03-14 07:56 am UTC (link)
His question made her smile, then laugh. It was a soft sound, not at all girlish, a woman's laugh. A woman who knew what she wanted, and who was looking at it.

When he tugged, she went. She used his grip on her dress and the momentum he'd built to press him against the hallway wall. It was as if he had only helped her achieve her desires. The purity of her appearance was in sharp contrast to her actions as she leaned in and took his lower lip between her teeth and tugged slowly, lightly, before pulling back and licking her lips.

She tugged his shirttails free of his pants, and she watched her hands as she did it, then she looked back up at him. "How about now?"

"See something you want?"

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]cyprian
2010-03-14 08:19 am UTC (link)
Terribly compliant, his back found the wall under her guidance. An arch and settle of spine against drywall, his smile was nothing but carnivorous enjoyment when the blonde leaned in. Her words amused him, and while he said nothing for a minute, he continued to gather the fabric of her dress in his hand. Higher, and higher. It was almost an idle pace.

"Maybe," he considered with a slow drawl to the word. Using the edge of his tongue to ardently salve his lower lip, which she'd just tugged through her teeth.

"Let me see some more," he murmured in contemplation, as if he was taking perusal of something with a possible intention to buy. In dwindling patience, he caught the hem of her dress in his free hand and bunched it at her hip. A swift and savvy little two step had them spinning, because he preferred her back against the wall. And his preferences were always priority.

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]longedforstill
2010-03-14 08:44 am UTC (link)
Oh, she had no problem showing him what he wanted to see.

She leaned back against the wall, back arching, the move wantonly catlike. The elastic of the thin, white, flimsy nothing of a thong she wore was untouched purity against her hip, and she let one of the straps of her white gown fall down over her upper arm, baring one pale, pink nipple to his gaze.

"What are you going to show me?" she asked, gaze raking down over his body, then back up to his mouth.

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]cyprian
2010-03-14 07:33 pm UTC (link)
His gaze chewed her up from top to bottom. Left hand caught the hem of that dress' long skirt and tacked it up near her sloped shoulder. Dorian held this curious concubine there against the wall with a slow rising smile, peeling back a step to witness her arch and writhe in the open space between them.

But what was he going to show her? Dark amusement lit his eyes as they sped their focus back to her face. "Patience, angel." Because while this woman had the starved moves of an alley cat, she was painted with the features of a Botticelli seraphim. It was a combination Dorian could appreciate a great deal.

Free fingers lifted his cane at it's middle, and traced the cool silver down the side of her body. Outlining the faint shadows of her ribs, where they whispered beneath the surface of Nordic skin like a grave rubbing. Down to the tapered dip of her waist, down. The engraved sterling handle caught the elastic of that gauzy white undergarment and tugged it past the soft protrusion of her hipbone. He watched briefly, but then his eyes raised to hold her's.

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]longedforstill
2010-03-14 09:20 pm UTC (link)
She looked down, her pale gaze watching the progress of the cane, and she took in a sharp, need, need, now breath when the coolness of the sterling handle pressed against the overheated skin at her hip. Her gaze slid back up to meet his, and her expression was that of a woman who would not be denied what she wanted.

She reached for the cravat he wore, pulling it open with fingers that were unfamiliar with the fabric, and then she attacked the buttons in a smiliar manner. She wanted skin, and she wanted it under her hands, and she wanted it now. In this, she was as hungry as he, and her expression told him as much.

He'd met his match, you see.

She slid her hands into the open shirt, and she made a wanton sound as the palms of her hands slid over smooth, pale skin. He was beautiful, and for a woman who hadn't had sex in nearly six years...

That stopped her, but only for a moment, and she ducked her head and licked over one of his nipples, taking it sharply between her teeth a moment later.

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]cyprian
2010-03-14 11:13 pm UTC (link)
After that, he did not deny her. How could he with her teeth and her tongue scraping over, taking hold of sensitive skin? He glanced down, briefly wondering why he didn't have his tattoos anymore, but the thought was lost a moment later. A pleased, heart rattling curse broke across the blades of his even teeth, and if he even remembered how to pray, it was in thanks that this woman didn't bother with bustles or complicated chemises. Not even a corset to hinder him when his hands caught the handles of her hips and slid her along the wall slightly. Settling the image of her beauty before him, nice and even. Front and center.

The cane had been dropped somewhere, forgotten in favor of this. Pinning her back into the wall with a forearm and the line of his body. After a brief fumble with his buttons, he caught the lean flank of her leg and was inside of her a split second later. Mouth at her throat, drawing in the taste of this new sin.

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]longedforstill
2010-03-15 01:03 am UTC (link)
She cried out when he slid into her, and she clung to him. Her hand slid down between their bodies, and she used her fingers to bring herself more pleasure with each thrust of his inside her. This, this, this is what she had been missing. She didn't know his name; she didn't need to. He was what she wanted; this was what she wanted.

She wound her fingers in his dark hair, and she tugged his head down, caught his mouth in a kiss of pure, claiming want. This man, this moment, it was hers.

She pulled away from the kiss and looked into his eyes with her own, every bit the regal Queen. "Mine," she said with the voice of an angel, the intent of the succubus she was behind the words.

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]cyprian
2010-03-15 01:27 am UTC (link)
No, he didn't know the young woman's name, but this hardly seemed like the time to exchange such formalities. On the off chance that he cared afterward, he might ask for it. Who knows, he might feel inclined to call upon the young woman again. He couldn't remember the last time he'd looked upon such a beautiful, debauched creature. Except for, perhaps, when he looked in the mirror.

The woman's kiss rivaled a passion he could barely remember, and his hips drove her into the sturdy brace of the wall. When she broke the kiss with a word, he hardly understood it. But he could feel it, like an incantation that warmed his nerves while he clutched her. Her's. Yes, in this moment, yes.

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]longedforstill
2010-03-15 01:36 am UTC (link)
Her fingers moved until she cried out with her orgasm, the sound echoing down the hallway of the Deluxe floor. She came before he did, unashamed, and she licked into his mouth. "Now, you," she demanded. He had done well, this beautiful boy. She would reward him with a place at her husband's table. He would make a lovely knight, wouldn't he?

All her ladies would sigh with envy, but it would be her bed he warmed on cold, cold nights.

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]cyprian
2010-03-15 01:58 am UTC (link)
The rush came quick, freezing the air in his lungs when she lapped at the edges of his mouth like a feral thing. Relinquishing his hold on her thigh, his fingers instead took purchase in the white gold of her hair. He clutched and tangled his fists in the waves so severely, that her jeweled circlet was disturbed and knocked quite askew. When he came, it was with his mouth buried against her throat, complete with a panting drag of teeth that promised to leave an unfortunate mark by morning.

While there had never been a concern about carrying on like this in a hallway of all places(they were down at a lonely, quiet end and it all only added to the thrill, really), he had no intention of lingering so disheveled. The least he could do while he relearned how to breathe was straighten his trousers and repair the mess she'd made of his cravat. He broke from her, his heart still rattling erratic and pleased, to tuck the tails of his shirt back in.

"I have not seen you around here before.." Although he couldn't really remember what he was doing here anyway.

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]longedforstill
2010-03-15 02:45 am UTC (link)
"No, but I'll find you the next time I need you," she told him, leaning in and whispering in his ear. "Do you sleep, beautiful? Call for Guinevere in your sleep, and I'll come to you," she said, then straightened her dress and slipped past him, away, down the hall, pale whiteness and pure glow trailing behind her as she went.

There was nothing left of Finn now. Only Guinevere and her voracious appetite, wanting to find other men to visit once she was (once again) locked in her tower.

A Queen would not, after all, be denied.

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Re: Deluxe floor: 12:10 am
[info]cyprian
2010-03-15 03:47 am UTC (link)
He did not try to stop Guinevere when she left, although his fingertips took a lingering hold on the dreamy white fabric that composed her skirts. Guinevere slipped down the hallway, and the white drifted through his hands until it was nothing but a vague warmth that still cradled his blood. His pulse trudged on just at the sight of her, until she was nothing but a final glimpse of starlight at the end of the hall. Readjusting the buttons of his vest, he straightened his hat and collected his cane before exhaling a heavy breath. Composed. And now, he needed a drink.

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