crescentview | Van Zieks Fall Log

Van Zieks Fall Log

Who: Baz and YOU
What: Memshares and potentially other Fall Events
When: Fall??
Where: The resort and Elsewhere potentially
Warnings: Death mentions in mems

MEMSHARES
[Pick one of the below options or ask me to pick one I think is best, and also say if you want to simply be audience to it or participate CYOA style.

1. Klint Returns Home After Study Abroad (age 10, Pleasant)
2. Meeting Albert, a close friend (age 19, Pleasant/Awkward)
3. Receiving his prosecutor's license (age 23, Pleasant/Anxious)
4. Learning of Klint's murder (age 23, Grief)
5. Being protected from attackers by Genshin (age 23, Tense/Awed)
6. Trial of the Professor (age 23, Despair/Betrayal/Anger)
7. The burden of the Reaper (age 29, Depression)
8. Defense attorney Ryuunosuke Naruhodo (age 33, Resentment/Admiration/Respect)
9. Barok van Zieks goes to Jail (age 33, Resignation/Guilt)
10. The true identities of the Professor and the Reaper (age 33, Confusion/Betrayal/Anger/Grief)
11. A secret eleventh option.]

PIRATES!
[When the pirates start menacing the island, of course Baz is leaping into action. He helps fight some of them out of the main city, surely along with many others.

However, that means he's in not the best state to defend himself when he returns home to his farm. It's a much smaller contingent of pirates looking to pilfer some of his stored crops, and he almost would give up and let them, except one of them is sizing up Adelheid, and that is unacceptable. However, he's not doing super well taking all of them all on at once! Help?]

MORE TO BE ADDED

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[#3 please...! Sylv needs to "meet" Klint and darling younger Baz.]

[It's about as perfect as weather gets in London, late spring with the scant greenery that manages to remain in the crowded streets of the industrialized city in full swing, and the cloudless sky sending only the gentlest of a balmy breeze to carry the varied sounds and smells of the capital. Just ahead is a large ornate building, guarded on both sides by statues of a blindfolded woman holding scales. At the top of the short steps stand four men, two older men flanking a younger one, while the fourth takes their photograph. The younger man is unmistakably, despite the years removed from him, Barok van Zieks. There is no darkness in his features, but instead the kind and anxious center Sylvando and several others have discovered underneath the mantle of the reaper is plain on the man's face. Though the physical similarities might give Sylvando a hint to the man in red's identity, it becomes inarguable a moment later, when after thanking the photographer, the men begin to descend and their conversation becomes audible.

"You really needn't trouble yourself, Klint," the young van Zieks protests, even as he walks so close to his brother's side you'd think there was a magnetic pull. "Just that you took the time out of your day to come for-"

Klint van Zieks lets out a loud laugh as he administers a firm pat on his younger brother's back. "Nonsense! You think I can only spare so little time on a day like this? The day my baby brother officially becomes a prosecutor of her majesty's courts?" He appears to be about the same age as Barok is in the present, but his demeanor could not be more different. Dynamic and vibrant, if Barok at 33 is like the dark night's moon, Klint at 33 is the midday sun. "No, we'll do lunch. Gregson's already agreed to meet with Lord Stronghart in my stead."

The third man doffs his cap, "that I did, milord. I only had the time to offer you my congratulations." He gives both men a short bow before making his exit, leaving only the van Zieks brothers still descending the steps. Make your move, Sylvando!]

[Sylvando is completely thrown by his surroundings the moment everything comes into view. There really is nothing like this in Erdrea... Heliodor might be the closest comparison Sylvando could make, but even that's not quite the same. It only becomes apparent that this is the London he's heard so much about when he deftly makes his way through the crowded street and stumbles upon a familiar face.]

Barry...?

[He murmurs to himself as he watches the scene unfold. Oh, but he looks so much younger...and no doubt untouched by the Reaper's curse at this point in time. He can't help but feel a tug at his heartstrings upon seeing him so happy.

No sooner has he begun to draw a connection to one of the men at van Zieks' side that his suspicions are confirmed. Klint van Zieks, Barok's beloved older brother. And what a presence he has! Straight away, Sylvando understands that magnetic draw.

Part of him hates to interrupt what seems to be a rare moment for quality time between the brothers, but he's trotting up and waving before he knows it.]

Barry! Congratulations, darling!

[Dressed in his usual vibrant attire, Sylvando easily stands out in the crowd on his own like a performer who got lost on his way back to the big top.

...he also realizes after he approaches that he has no idea if van Zieks would recognize him right now, so he's risking looking like a lunatic. But it's fine. He'll figure it out.]

[Between the attire and the accent, Sylvando's approach clearly takes both men by surprise. Barok visibly shrinks back in confusion, while Klint stands firm, unaggressive given the man seems to be familiar with Barok in a positive sense, but assertive nevertheless, being the stalwart front for Barok to retreat behind.

Certainly for a moment Barok seems deeply alarmed to be recognized by someone like this, but after a moment, his confusion takes on a different flavor, that of being unable to place someone.]

Ah... Mr. Sylvando?
[He's frowning still, clearly the memory trying to reconcile the presence familiar to Barok, but beyond the confines of this memory.]
I didn't think you'd still be in town. But... thank you.

[Klint, with the stranger now identified, relaxes right into teasing;]
Oh, is this a friend of yours, "Barry?"

[Barok flushes;]
J-just... He helped me out with my fieldwork when we had that murder case at the circus, and we...
[The frowning continues as his brain tries to square peg round hole Sylvando into London society.]
Anyway, Mr. Sylvando, this is my older brother, Klint.

[Klint, with a winning smile, holds out his hand to Sylvando.]
Any friend of our "little darling" is a friend of mine, circus performer or no. A pleasure.
[The way he says that phrase makes it sound like it's very much an existing epithet.]

Edited 2023-02-17 18:09 (UTC)

[Oh, goodness! When Barok startles and hides like that, Sylvando comes to a stop and holds his hands up as if he's going to apologize and explain himself. He doesn't mean any harm, after all, far from it!

Fortunately, it doesn't seem like he'll have to in the end. Though he's a little surprised by how Barok comes to recognize him, he's more than happy to play along with this narrative. He would absolutely do everything in his power to help solve a case, especially if something so horrible happened at a place only meant for smiles.]

We're still in the process of tearing everything down before moving on to our next stop, so I thought I'd drop by to see how you're doing after all of that. You did a marvelous job, darling, and clearly your hard work paid off!

[He can't help but giggle at the dynamic shared by the van Zieks brothers. That moniker suits Barok perfectly, even if it's been sealed behind strong emotional walls in recent years. And Klint, well... Sylvando would be lying if he said he wasn't a little starstruck. So this is what it's like when call him a shining beacon of sorts.

He takes Klint's hand and gives it a firm shake.]

The pleasure's all mine, Klint! I've heard so much about you from Barry. I have to say, the stories certainly line up so far!

[He gives a teasing wink at Barok. He's not going to embarrass him too much, promise.]

A-ah, I suppose that the investigation must've slowed you all down a bit...
[Yes yes it all makes sense and isn't distantly confusing at all. The overly familiar address also isn't off putting!!! Klint meanwhile, blinks a moment at not being addressed as "lord van Zieks", but then just laughs as he meets the handshake with an equally firm grip. There's something about how he carries himself that suggests he's very used to people having already heard a lot about him. A star prosecutor, a man truly deserving of the way his brother speaks of him a decade later.]

And I'm grateful for the help you provided to Barok! He's really so bad about relying on others.

Klint!
[DON'T EMBARRASS HIM IN FRONT OF HIS CIRCUS FRIEND!! Klint just laughs again.]

What? It's true! Albert had to practically force you to let him help you with that ballistics analysis report.

[More groaning from the younger, before he looks back at Sylvando.]
My apologies, my brother forgets how to behave as befitting his station when he's in a good mood.

[ The room that fills in the black expanse of his vision like blotted parchment is a simple one. It is dimly lit with smooth stone walls and padded flooring set atop more unforgiving stone. Iron weights, daggers, and well used targets and punching bags all have their proper, near place within the pristine room. All of this becomes clear as Zieks's eyes adjust to the vine like bioluminescent glow emanating from the low ceiling.

His shadowed form, frozen in place, goes unnoticed by the four white haired boys faintly glowing before him. They are all dressed for sport in simple white linens. All of them carry too much muscle for their young ages. Healed scars litter the older three from more than just childhood games. Sweat on the smallest's brow, van Zieks arrives just in time to see his happy round face sink into a frown as he shakes his head no.

"Kaspar..." says the tallest boy to the smallest in a patient, placating tone reserved for cajoling small children. Kaspar's big grey eyes look up to him in more ways than literal. He puffs his chest up a little, white hair cropped too short in an attempt to smother the growth of more curls. He crosses his arms defensively where he stands cornered by the older boys. The two identical boys on either side of him remain silent, their ages somewhere between the other two, though far closer to the oldest than the youngest.

"I don't want... to fight... like that." Kaspar mumbles stubbornly in his high small voice, avoiding the light red eyes on him.

"Do you want to make mother unhappy?"

Kaspar's mouth wobbles, "But, momm--"

But the oldest boy catches his cheeks in one hand to halt the word firmly, fingers digging until they relax again.

"You're not a baby anymore. It's 'mother', now." he corrects softly, but coolly.

Kaspar nods in his brother's grip, mouth drawing to a line and eyes welling with tears.

"Shh, now. We only want what's best. And you wouldn't want to disappoint your family, would you?"

The little boy shakes his head, slowly, and only then does the hand fall away from his face. Stepping forward earns Kaspar a smile that never reaches the red eyes above it.

"Show us all you've learned."

The words break the smile as he steps back. Kaspar takes up a defensive stance with fists clenched white in front of his face. Fear is plain, battling with childish determination. The oldest nods to the boy on his left, who does not hold back enough strength when he begins his swing toward Kaspar.

Van Zieks, across the room, is suddenly able to breathe and move freely again. ]

Edited 2023-02-18 05:52 (UTC)

[Though he knows by now that this is a memory, a dream, van Zieks feels no urge to act at first. It feels like intruding, and to make his presence known the height of rudeness. What's the point when this is the past that can't be changed? He can't undo what already happened to Kaspar. Even if he could move, he wouldn't.

That is, until the moment when he actually feels his body free up, when that blow is thrown. His instincts move his body before he can think rationally. Not only is that his dear Kaspar, but it is a child. A child who does not want any part of this violence. Van Zieks surges forward, one arm pulling Kaspar close to his chest, the other blocking the swing with his own arm.]

[ Little Kaspar is easily pulled, just as easily as the swing is blocked. The strength of it would be impressive for the boy's age, under different circumstances. Van Zieks takes the full force of it instead of the bruise Kaspar was sure to receive.

For a moment, there is nothing but shocked silence. All four pairs of dimly glowing eyes widen and snap to the intruder. Kaspar looks from his brothers to van Zieks, stilled and clinging.

The oldest is the first to compose himself. He draws himself up as tall as he can, as if there is no fear. The twins follow his example. One narrowed look from him has Kaspar fighting whatever grip van Zieks might have on him. He is strong for his age too. But he is also only four. It is therefore the oldest boy that addresses him first. ]

You would deprive him this lesson, draug?

[ He asks, an accusation dressed up in a question. His light red eyes peer up at him as unflinching as the tone in his voice. ]

[Van Zieks doesn't know what he's just been called, but is certain it's an insult. That's fine, he's been called all manner of horrible things. Supernaturally strong or not, he's faced down far worse than a couple of seemingly unarmed boys.]

Your "lesson" will teach him of nothing but cruelty and fear. If that was your intention I will do all that is in my power to oppose you.
[Kaspar's brother might be giving Baz his most intense look, but it's hard to top Barok van Zieks in the field of overpowering intimidation.]

[ The oldest boy keeps up the expression, but it is clearly an effort in the face of Baz's intensity. His words about the lesson earn Baz a scoff. ]

Fear is a weakness. There is no place for it in the light.

[ But it seems he has figured out the soft spot here for this giant Draug is Kaspar himself. Despite the faux worry he threads into his voice, he is a calculating little shit. It's almost condescending in a way that still leaves him room for plausiblr deniability. ]

Have you been dead so long you do not know what awaits Blum who fail this lesson?

[Ah, he sees now. Well, it's still far from the first time someone has called him dead or undead. He could correct it but why bother? It might make him scarier to these punks.]

If you consider fear a weakness you're less intelligent than a wild animal. And I suppose I have been dead long enough not to care what failing your poor excuse for a lesson is.
[So suck it, small child.]

[ That gets a rise out of the oldest, clear as the burning sun his eyes have never seen. ]

I decide what is best for my brothers. The Avus provides us our sustenance of soul, mind, and body. We owe our loyalty.

Kaspar learns to take the hits now, or he will only bleed more later. Coddle him, and he suffers alone. [ Now, he shifts his attention to Kaspar, frozen by Baz. His tone is sweet in all the ways that adults might recognize as being put on. ] You don't want to be weak, do you Kaspar?

[ Expression stricken, afraid of the threat of pain and of the undead giant, Kaspar shakes his head slowly. ]

[He does have a moment of minute pause, because he technically doesn't know this culture and its structure. On the other hand he's British so fuck your culture.]

Learning to take hits is a reductive tactic. Why not learn to avoid taking hits in the first place? As I see it you are trying to beat fear and obedience into him rather than trying to teach him how to be truly strong.

[But he also doesn't want to spook Kaspar, so he crouches to not loom so much before addressing him.]
Making your own choices regardless of what others say is the strongest thing you could possibly do.

[ There is a moment where all that can be heard is the whistle of the wind of a projectile moving far too fast to see before it makes a clean path through the nearest pirate's hand just as it is being raised against van Zieks. Any others that want to try before Kaspar can close the distance may be surprised to see the bullet glow and begin a swift path circling vam Zieks.

But Kaspar is fast when he needs to be, when he spreads his light like warmth from the center of his being. Expression intensely serious, he slams into the next pirate fist first with enough force that teeth fly as far as the pirate's body. Kaspar's leather boots kick up dirt as he slides to a halt.

With his back to van Zieks, he whistles and one dagger responds. One hand already blindly waiting, it slides from its hidden sheath right into his palm. Seemingly moving on its own accord. The bullet widens its path around the two of them while Kaspar glares down the remaining intruders. His rifle is strapped to his back, the end visibly hot from use as it meets chill autumn air. ]

[Backed into a corner with attackers all around, thinking for a moment that maybe this is it, this is his parting moments, only for a hero to sweep in and make short work of the aggressors it's... it's oddly familiar. It reminds him of an old crush, one that was never anything that could become serious, but still burned deep and painful in his chest at the percieved betrayal later, hot enough to nurse a grudge for a decade.

But this time it's not like that. It's not simply a man whose back he's staring at, someone who should have been more an idol or mentor if not for his inappropriate feelings. This time it's Kaspar, who is so much more immediate, so much more real and nuanced and attainable, despite the fact that he feels like he shouldn't be the last one.

Especially not after this, seeing Kaspar who is usually so passive in action like this. Even though he feels like maybe some part of him regretted learning to be like this, after having seen the scared child he'd once been. He feels guilty being attracted to it, a little. But well, what can you do.]

Kaspar.
[Half breathless. He wants to turn around and kiss him right now but there are still pirates, rudely.]

I have your back.

[ Kaspar's voice is grateful, but also uncharacteristically firm. The words are immediate without taking his attention from their enemies. It fills the brief lull in action that he caused. The first pirate cradles his hand while others pull the man with a bloodied mouth up. ]

I know.

[ One of them draws a pistol from his belt and Kaspar clicks his tongue, which is enough to send his own bullet flying toward it. Reinforced with his blood and metals mined from the depths, it slices right through the weapon. The effort to stop the bullet in the air with a closed fist has his brow sweat, his whole body tensing from the use of his light.

It still grazes the man, knocking him onto his backside to nurse his bloodied hand. But he is notably alive, when Kaspar recalls the bullet back to his gloved hand. His next words are louder, effortlessly commanding now that he's shown what he can do. Even if some can't see his face, the threat is woven in. ]

Surrender.

[The pirates hesitate, before exchanging a few terse words and furtive glances, before clearly deciding this is all more trouble than it's worth, and turning on their heels to run away, back in the direction of the shore where they docked, throwing a few choice curses back at Kaspar and van Zieks if only for the sake of their pride.

van Zieks remains unmoving for a long pause after they'd already retreated out of view, paranoid as he is that it could be a trick. But after his pessimistic brain is satisfied, all he can think about is kissing Kaspar, so even though things have been... a little complicated as of late, he allows himself the impulse of tugging Kaspar around to face him before pulling him in for a kiss.]

[ Kaspar can't help the unfettered heat he brings into their kiss, teeth grazing lips, as the adrenaline still courses through him. His hand releases his dagger, letting it find its way home while his hands seek the other man's hips; an anchor to slide back only to tug him flush against Kaspar's still overly warm body. ]

[It just further leads into Baz's irrational narrative of Kaspar being an angel, or the sun or a star or just something ineffable and beautiful that really he has no right to tough but he wants to anyway, and clearly so does Kaspar so why not???

He just sinks into the warmth of the moment, the closeness and the feeling of being able to fully relax in the presence of the other man. But eventually he breaks away;]

How did you know to come here?
[The timing was pretty impeccable.]

[ He lets Bar break their lips, but he seems intent to maintain some contact. As if worried he might slip away through his fingers. ]

They raided us, and...

[ He answers, voice thicker and volume still level until he trails off. They dont live that far apart. Kaspar doesn't actually know the term pirate, but it hardly matters in the moment. When he is realizing just how much he missed him. He knew he missed the touching and kissing, but just hearing his voice and knowing he is alive has Kaspar squeezing him tight. He might use a little more strength than usual.

Now that the immediate danger is gone, it is easier to notice his unstyled hair with pieces of red fallen leaves caught up in blond locks. And his uniform is incomplete. ]

[Well then, it's time for van Zieks to reverse the common activity of Kaspar fussing with his hair to turn his own attention to neatening it up and removing the leaf detritus.]

I trust both you and Trahearne survived without major injury? I know you are... far stronger than you look, but I still...

[Is thinking about it.]

I know you do not enjoy fighting but you are a sight to behold.

[ Kaspar lets himself be taken care of for once. The movements of his hands become less appreciative and more searching for injuries cautiously over Bar's clothes.

He offers up a small smile, a briefer press of lips before he nods. And he sounds pleased. ]

There were no deaths.

[ Though the future use of some pirate hands is in question. Moving on perhaps too casually, grip on him threatening to carry him inside-- ]

Are you hungry?

[He won't find any major open wounds, just a few nicks, though there are multiple areas that are going to bruise nastily later, and touching those spots might elicit a clearly restrained wince from van Zieks. He is tough and can handle so much do not worry!!!! But definitely carry him though.]

I... a bit, actually, but you needn't trouble yourself further after all that.

[ Kaspar hums for a beat. But this has been trying enough and he still has all of this excess energy now. So, he ultimately ignores those words in favor of lifting him up to carry him inside. ]

So am I.

[ Is what he offers Baz's ego. Kaspar will only stop if Baz needs to get the door. Who locks the door running after pirates though??? ]

[IS LIFTED???? He knew, objectively, that Kaspar was stronger than he looked, and vaguely that he was stronger than like. Is normal for non-magical people. But to actually have it demonstrated like this???

Well, suffice to say his face is turning an interesting shade of red. He has been swept off his feet both figuratively and literally. Luckily the door is open, since Baz would probably fumble the key is he had to open it right now, anyway.]

You-that is, Then I should-
[??????? HE'S SHORT CIRCUITING.]

[ Kaspar manages to close the door behind them with one foot, careful about knocking heads on door frames for once. It is far easier around here than back home.

Ah, there is that shade of red. Adorable, really, but all his body remembers is that last time Bar had wanted kisses but had not asked for them. He knows this expression now, and Kaspar does not shy from it. Not now, with the phantom of adrenaline and the unexpected aversion to wanting to let go of him just yet. He should treat those scratches and make them lunch. But Bar's short circuit only drifts his imagination further from the kitchen. A shower then. Or a bath.

Past the doorway, Kaspar can't quite help turning to press Bar's back gently to its grain. Pointedly, he does not let it take any more of the other's weight than the position necessitates.

His lips follow, seeking Bar's. There is still an edge, the lingering heat from before, but the pressure is soft and slow. A bold attempt at comfort for a man whose arms and hands are fully occupied, thumbs rubbing idly; whose eyes fall half lidded as he leans up, in, and shifts to let Bar sink lower, closer.

His whisper, the brush of lips, is as wholly sincere as the warm amusement behind them. ]

It is, just us.

[If van Zieks had ever seen movies he would be very impressed at this just like in movies maneuver. That said, right now he's just being overwhelmed by how cool and alluring and strong Kaspar is right now?? What does he even bring to the table here if Kaspar is both the soft and kind one and the strong and protective one???

He can only give Anxiety Baz a cursory awareness at the moment though, because right now he is outrageously seduced and Kaspar seems to be intent on spoiling him with his undivided and enthusiastic attention. Maybe it's the leftover adrenaline controlling his behavior too. Maybe it's just how he's been worn thin by his self-inflicted emotional torment. Maybe even without either of those factors, he would have still done this;]

I... In that case, you can do whatever you would like with me. I trust you, implicitly.
[Maybe not a very sexy thing to say, but for Barok van Zieks, who's been in his mind betrayed by almost everyone he's ever held dear... It means something.]

[ Trust. It pours heat into veins. One leg shifts as he tugs Bar down again, lips descending for once. Seeking connection again, slow as the increasing pressure of his weight. He throws all of his strength into pinning Bar carefully between the door, a thigh, and the arm sliding its way carefully around his waist. The hand attached to it drifts past, tracing the curve as Kaspar moves to support him ("innocently") by his ass. Of course, if Bar would like to make this easier by wrapping his legs around Kaspar's tapered waist, there is no protest. But Kaspar has him either way.

Kaspar's other freed hand moves to cradle Bar's head from the hard surface behind it. His warm fingers, though gentle and protective, are firm. They curl in to ruin what he most often fusses over, as Kaspar opens his mouth against his, no ounce of shame over licking inside like he plans to spend the whole day dismantling every sweet spot on a whim. Every moment Bar had left him wanting unloads into this moment for him. All the while, his half lidded eyes never close. ]

[Baz makes a little surprised noise at the Ass Contact, but doesn't protest. He did just say Kaspar could do what he wanted, after all. It takes him a moment to formulate the idea, but he does take the suggestion, partly because he wants to again be impressed by how strong Kaspar is.

As much as he's held back, he hasn't wanted to. So he's giving in just as freely, searching for Kaspar's tongue with his own, and his hands are free to start fiddling with the button's of Kaspar's shirt as well as his own. Because as much as he's giving into the moment there's no justification to ruin clothing!!!]

[ An amused sound, lower than his usual hum is shared freely between their mouths at the feel of Bar's legs, thighs, and the fingers dancing over buttons. He pushes against them, encouragingly, like the mouth caught between Kaspar's and the fingers curling into his hair. He isn't wearing anything beneath his shirt today in his rush. Well rounded pecs, down to a stomach muscled from years of training and a workout routine he kept up even here on the island. Farmwork has only been kind to him too. Though in the wake of the auction, Bar may have noticed his early runs hadn't taken him past the Baz farm any longer.

The hand on Bar's ass rests there for a moment, as if simply enjoying the feel of him in his palm. Even when he tightens his grip just enough to feel its give, there is a firm gentleness to it. Having viewed it clothed so often, his blind hold on him feels far too natural for a first meeting.

But he does not want to take him here in the doorway, as tempting as the urge is. Another, stronger whim, spurred by the bead of sweat rolling down his back, has Kaspar pulling back from his mouth after what feels like hours. Lips wetted, head tilted, and expression far too content, Kaspar lets their cheeks brush when he leans back in as if to whisper. But all that comes is a kiss to its shell just before he nips it lightly and shifts to take Bar's full weight from the door again. Back into his arms, this time with both legs wrapped his waist and both hands reaching for where thighs end and backside begins.

Good thing he knows where the bathroom is. How strong it their sink? If there is a counter, then prepare to be set upon it with lips chasing more kisses like even that break from it was too long. ]

[Just given Baz's size I can't imagine any sink capable of holding him under any strain of horseplay, so yeah lets say there's a counter for him. For half a second he's slightly miffed at the improper use of the countertop, but then it'd hard to stay with that emotion when Kaspar is kissing him so insistently and desperately. Keyed up as he now is, every moment of hot breath and unexpected warmth from Kaspar's lips makes Baz shudder and gasp. Party of him is ashamed, to be so undone by the simplest of attentions, and from another man no less. He doesn't actively care the least bit about his social status, but years of being taught how to maintain it have him worrying over it instinctively, the threat of being caught out and ruined for it.

Another part of him is almost excited by that worry. The part that had always hated the strict rules of high society, knowing that he could never truly fit within them and be happy. The part that had relished in his line of work for how it allowed him to fight back against those comfortable in it. The part that had fought through his worry and taken him to the particular sort of gentlemen's clubs that had been furtively recommended to him.]

H-here I'd been worried about you not being assertive enough.
[A breathless but not dispassionate laugh on the end of these hoarse words spoken between kisses. He's doing his best to completely remove both of their shirts before he can start the much more mentally daunting task of belts.]

[ There is a thrill for Kaspar too, of being caught, undeniably lingering after so many years of being careful. It's become the lowest pitch in the steady beat of his own song, a small piece of the drive in his self assuredness. Bar is here, tangible, and the consequences are a world away. Kaspar will perhaps never stray from claiming every moment as it happens, the lingering scars in the imaginations of the long repressed. He swallows every gasp, absorbs every encouraging shudder.

Kaspar's eyes level on Bar at the words, deft hands joining his to smooth the process of blindly removing their shirts. They're steady and warm, like the painfully slower, open mouthed kisses he starts to press into him on the heel of Bar's sentence. One hand sinks lower, to graze fingertips up a clothed thigh. He'll gladly assist with belts too, gracefully and purposefully going too light between his legs with stray grazes. His mouth curves playfully upward before he reaches to tug Bar's hips close. Then they go for Bar's hands, whether they have the belts completed or not. With some strength behind the hold, Kaspar moves to pin his hands beside his head with fingers curling into his.

Despite the grip and their position, his eyes never lose their reverance for Bar. They're almost too gentle when he presses their foreheads together; kindness mingling with heat and hunger. His belated response is low, yet amused. As it is just them. ]

I'd wondered, if you'd be intimidated.

[ Spoken with the roll of his hips forward. Back to stripping and kissing and leaning to turn on the water no matter what the bath or shower situation is like in here. ]

[ rng me caitie and we can cyoa it or have her be an audience member. idk whichever seems to be more fun for you c: ]

[Belatedly because I'm in thesis hell. Anyway I feel like 6 is the most interesting choice for Uta bc of betrayal. Welcome to the Old Bailey.

Uta will find herself beside van Zieks on the prosecutor's bench. He's clearly younger here, though still an adult, and already marked by the permanent scowl he seems to have, but here it seems fresh and painful. He's leaning forward on the bench, holding up a ring, and glaring at the man in the witness stand.]

And how do you explain this? Why would Klint have swallowed your ring?
[Uta is obviously lacking in context, but it's clear the emotions darkening van Zieks' face are all directed at this man.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Van Zieks Fall Log

memshare

assuming you want cyoa style so he can meet them properly but if I'm wrong lmk

yes, I completely forgot to specify!!

I GOT U

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[ welcome to wildcard ] [ cw bullying/ and emotional/physical violence between children in here ]

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Cw there is violence here

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memeshare

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