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Doors Verse ([info]doorsverse) wrote in [info]doorslogs,
@ 2013-10-18 21:51:00

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

Who: Everyone!
What: The Halloween plot
Where: Passages → The RMS Mauretania
Notes: This is a group log, so anything goes as far as adult content. Please provide locations and warnings, whenever appropriate, in subject lines. Characters may only be in one place at a time, not in multiple threads simultaneously, and you must post using the “doorsween” anon account. This post is anonymous; no names, accents, or defining fonts, please. Lastly, comment with "dibs" on threads you intend to hit, and feel free to exit your characters from threads at any time.



The Mauritania is a ghost ship.

Launched in 1938, it's been decades since she sailed the oceans, and yet the doors of Passages open onto the night-darkened deck of a ship that is barely afloat. She tilts, she lurches, and she is cobweb-lined from her deserted bridge to her silent deck. There is no land to be sighted from any railing, and no light save that from the stars overhead. The promenade winds around the upper level in ominous silence, and haunting music can be heard beyond the doors that lead into the ship's interior.

Promenade; Elevator: It's a curious thing, this ghost ship's elevator. Opulent and splendid, it takes up the entire center of the grand entrance, and it is meant to carry passengers down into the belly of the ship. But it doesn't work just right. Sometimes, the elevator drops impossible lengths. Sometimes, the elevator stops altogether for hours at a time. Yet somehow it's always empty and awaiting new passengers.

First Class; Baths: The upper-level, with its height and distance from the ocean, feels safe and bright. Classical music can be heard in these halls, though there is no orchestra and the ballroom is ominously dark. Laughter leads passengers to the one mostly-lit area in first class, where a swimming bath leads to smaller, more private Turkish bath. The lights here are quiet, flickering and barely there, and shadows dance elusively in the depths of the pool, while ghostly laughter can be heard in the private bath stalls.

Second Class; Theater: Down a level, the second-class floor is louder than the elite first-class floor. Here the air is thick with cigar smoke, and glasses can be heard clinking from the open doors to the smoking room. But it's the theater that draws passengers on this floor. It is cramped and entirely dark, save for the monochrome film on the screen, hauntingly devoid of sound, where a collection of terrifying collages and darkly sexual imagery fill the screen.

Third Class; Dining: Claustrophobic stairs lead down to the narrow passages of the cramped third-class rooms, where the air is heavy and thick, and where the lights flicker and cast the hall into windowless darkness. Here, the ghostly gears of the engine room can be heard sputtering dangerously, and the sensation of the ship's tilting is most pronounced. At the end of the hall, the dining area gives the illusion of windows where none exist. Chairs are pushed aside to allow for dancing to soulful and intimate music, while ocean water teases shoes and heels.



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Re: Top Deck, promenade [adult]
[info]doorsween
2013-10-25 02:44 pm UTC (link)
“Not long.” The shifting her body was driving him to distraction, and the way she positioned herself, cradled in his arms and pressed to his face, made him groan, a heated breath brushing against her front of her shirt. He couldn’t help it, the temptation to tease her growing, and his lips ghosted kisses across her breasts, lips finding her nipples for fleeting moments before he turned his attention elsewhere.

The air around them changed, warmer, finally, and the sounds of the windy cold deck were behind them. He let his feet guide him a few more steps until he had pressed her against another wall once more. “There,” he breathed, letting her weight settle against him and the wall and freeing his hands. Already they slid down her sides, hesitating as they found the edges of her shirt before slipping under the fabric. She’d let him know how far he’d go. Her claws were still nearby. “Better?” He pressed another kiss to her chest, inching upwards as did his hands, bunching up the fabric of her shirt as his gloved fingers gently roamed up her stomach.

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Re: Top Deck, promenade [adult]
[info]doorsween
2013-10-25 03:24 pm UTC (link)
It hadn't been deliberate, the way she'd twisted and leaned up, but oh did she appreciate the result of it. The fabric of her shirt was thin enough that there was barely a whisper between her skin and his mouth, the delicately knit weave of it only added rough texture that made her entire body shiver with notice of it. The sound it pulled from her throat was half gasp and half startled moan. The drag against her nipples was electric, and she would have been glad for that never to end.

But then they were inside, the sudden warmth barely heated, but compared to the water-chilled wind outside, it was enough to make a prickle of sweat start at the base of her skull. The wall she found herself against was still cool though, gratifyingly solid, and she tipped her head back against it for that first moment. The next sound from her lips was a soft hum, an agreement to his question (without words) that she was more than pleased with their change in location.

She wanted to shift, to arch back and lift her arms so that the shirt could be drawn over her head, tossed away. She squirmed, pinned between him and the wall, but that only served to press her against the muscled line of his body and make her shudder. She knew what her body wanted, knew how it was meant to go, but she found herself at a loss to ask. Feline she may have been, reveling in the sensual heat of everything about him, but she hadn't done this before. Not like this. And she had to kiss him again, hard and with more than a little desperation, to keep that confession from slipping out.

She wanted his skin against hers, something warm and alive, but everything other than his neck and face was covered. Even if the drag of his gloves over the skin along her sides had her shuddering again, eyes closed to drink up every millimeter of movement, she still craved more. Eyes still shut, chest pressed against his with every deep breath she took, instead of pulling off her own shirt she reached down to find his left wrist, to insinuate fingers beneath the glove there. The wall at her back and legs around his body ensured that she could let go, use both hands as she twisted just enough to try to get that glove off. Even just one. "Come on," she whispered in growing frustration. Claws well hidden, she didn't know how else to articulate what she wanted other than those quiet little words.

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Re: Top Deck, promenade [adult]
[info]doorsween
2013-10-25 08:24 pm UTC (link)
He chuckled darkly, a low rumble of lips curved against her mouth, only breaking the contact to lift her shirt over her head and toss it to the ground. His free hands only had a few seconds to ghost over her arms, the curves of her breasts, when she snapped up his left wrist. His right hand gripped her, steadied her as she tried to make quick work of his gloves.

“Hang on,” he murmured, pulling his hand free from her grip only to nip the end of one finger hold it fast as he yanked his hand away. First one glove joined her shirt and then, after careful shifting, the other did as well. His hands found her again, starting at her waist and letting his hands, palms and fingers calloused, roam over every inch of her soft skin he could find. His mouth captured hers into another searing kiss, tangling tease of teeth and tongue.

When his hands drifted lower, memorizing the sweet curves of her hips and finding the bottoms of her shorts. Bunching the fabric up at his wrists, his hands crept upward until he could grasp her rear and pull her taught against him even as he pulled his lips away briefly, noses still touching. “Legs down, Cat,” he said, more of a question though his labored breath might have disguised the tone. His thumbs found the hem of her fabric once more and tugged them down playfully, knowing he wouldn’t get very far without her help.

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Re: Top Deck, promenade [adult]
[info]doorsween
2013-10-25 11:55 pm UTC (link)
Her purr melted into a laugh that was almost nervous when her shirt was tossed away, but it slipped back to a purr when he found more skin to touch. His hurried work to free himself of the gloves drew another laugh from her, appreciative that he wanted the same as her, and then the hands returned yet again. This time skin instead of glove, rough in places and smooth in others, strong in every way, and her head tipped back against the wall as she shut her eyes and sighed a sound that felt like it came from the very bottom of her. "More," she insisted of the touch, but then he was kissing her again, and it was impossible for her to not kiss back. Her mouth already felt bruised from press and teeth, but even so, she couldn't keep her own sharp teeth away, sinking into the full swell of his lower lip for just a moment, there and gone, but sharp enough to sting, nearly cut.

She knew his hands had moved as she'd been enjoying the drag of them along her body, but it took her a moment to realize what he was doing, what he was saying. She blinked at him as they pressed nose to nose, eyes nearly crossing at the close distance. And then it made sense, and she hissed, lips pulled back to expose teeth. He couldn't stop her, couldn't tell her what to do. She would refuse to-- But then it clicked, what he wanted, and the hiss turned to a pleased sound and an excited little wiggle. With legs locked so tightly around his body, it took her a moment to brace her hands on his shoulders and unwind her ankles and then so slowly slide herself down the front of his body until her toes, the very tips of them, touched the floor.

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Re: Top Deck, promenade [adult]
[info]doorsween
2013-10-26 04:41 pm UTC (link)
She wanted more and he couldn't think to deny her, instead giving a hiss as he felt the sharp and quick bite of her teeth. He cupped her, grasped her, any hesitance burning away with each pleasured sound she made and every inch of skin he could find. He only stilled when her mood changed, the air shifting, the hairs at the back of his neck rising, alerting him to hold his guard.

But then the dark mood fled, her snarl turned to a smile, and he nearly let out a breath he hadn't been aware he held. He relaxed when he felt her weight slide off him, and watched with careful gaze until he saw her toes touch the ground. He gave her a kiss for her trouble, softer than before, and let his hands skim down her sides. Lower and lower they moved before sliding down under her shorts and letting his questing fingers find her, stroking and teasing and petting her, needing to hear more of those pleased little sounds she was fond of making.

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Re: Top Deck, promenade [adult]
[info]doorsween
2013-10-27 01:00 pm UTC (link)
If she was aware of his momentary concern for her mood gone sharp, she showed no sign of it when she wiggled downward. She had expected the next kiss to match the others, deep and insistent, so when it shifted into something softer, it startled her. Perhaps confused her, just a bit. But there was nothing there that she didn't enjoy, especially when his hands returned, skimming over her skin and finding new places to touch. And that was something that she'd known she wanted, hadn't known how to ask for, and hadn't been aware (not truly) how good it would be.

It was those little sounds that he wanted from her, and she unknowingly obliged. Each questing press earned a different sound, a gasp when he stroked, a purr when he pet, a whimper when he teased. Her own hands found his arms, held tight to his biceps, digging fingers in without the use of claws while she still thought about it. It was uneven - him still clothed, her naked, him touching her in ways that made her body arch, but her not yet returning the favor. But she didn't point it out and only barely even cared about it. Not when he was doing such lovely things that made her legs begin to shake.

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