crescentview | [OPEN]

[OPEN]

WHO: Syrlya and You
WHAT: Syrlya gets cursed, and then has one bad day after another so he runs away to the hotsprings
WHEN: ~few days after the spring dance until last day of spring. Closed prompts through end of Summer
WHERE: The farm, around town, the hotsprings
WARNINGS: There is NSFW in these parts

[Do Not Agitate the Goddess (mute) | Edge of the Woods + His Farm]

[Syrlya gave it a few days, at least didn't confront the Goddess about her questionable habits at the dance itself. It doesn't go terribly well.

He marches away from the pond, his expression is twisted into a scowl and fists balled. Anyone who crosses his path in the immediate aftermath is met with irritation, and then a pointed turn of his face away as he marches down the path.

After a few hours he's had some time to cool off--though he's still sulking, toiling on his farm ripping up weeds and pushing new seeds into the dirt. If they didn't have to do this to eat, he'd let this goddess know right where she can--]

[Twice cursed (blind) | Other people's farms]

[Luckily, going mute only lasts for a day, and then it's back to normal. For a couple days, at least. Until he wakes one morning to the room being strangely dark, like the sun itself was snuffed out--no, but it isn't the sun that's the problem. It's his eyes.

The morning is a panic. A level of fear he doesn't often feel as he's suddenly lost the sense most important to him.

The first trip is a stumble to the clinic... unsurprisingly, when dealing with a talking plant it doesn't offer any answers except that they, at least, don't seem to be injured. Nobody there accuses the goddess, but an errant magical effect... Syrlya can only think of one person who is capable.

So, his option is to wait it out for now, see if it clears up on its own. That is... not optimal. But ultimately Syrlya can't find any better options.

Doesn't mean he can't try and do what he needs to. So, using a glittering sword as a makeshift walking stick (watch your feet) Syrlya strides out of the farmhouse.

Or rather, trips out of it, hitting a few walls along the way. And then he's on a truly blind path, tripping and crawling over other people's fences with no real idea of his orientation. Just where he thinks it is. The warmth of the sun isn't helping him as much as he wishes it did.

Anyway. Sorry if he tramples your flowers.]

[Make That Thrice Cursed (table) | The Town]

[The blidnness clears up after two days as if it never happened. So not a malady after all, it seems. So Syrlya goes into town to finish errands he intended to before the weekend. He's just headed down the street with a bag of groceries more varied than the limited vegetables from their garden... when it hits.

A plastic folding end table drops seemingly from thin air and smacks right onto his head. Syrlya buckles with a startled cry, his bag tumbling out of his arms and spilling to the ground.]

((His plotting post is over here if you want a more custom starter or simply something else!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh. [Syrlya lifts his head, momentarily surprised. He went treading this territory and now he has to go through with it. But Adelis has felt his skin, all its waxiness and lack of body heat. If he's not turned off by Syrlya being a plant... doesn't that make this an opportunity for both of them?]

I--well, hm. [a faint gold blush tinges his cheeks as he reviews the cards again.] I have no idea what "VCR and chill" is supposed to be. Are these the ones you are most concerned about checking off now?

[He gestures between all three smut squares, in case Adelis has any better of an idea what VCR and chill even is.]

[ Adelis merely watches, knuckle to cheek as Syrlya goes over. He's noting the gold with a curious eye, but he supposes he should have expected plants to bleed a different color than red. Truthfully, while it'll be a bit jarring, he's in no position to be judging- he himself is cold as a corpse half the time now, and while it'll fix itself after touch, most wouldn't be used to the sensation, either. ]

That. [ He sighs, in exasperation. ] It's using the...VCR, and lying with someone while whatever is on it plays. I had to pry that out of someone with far more effort than I would have preferred.

[ Virgins, the lot of this island. All of them. ]

I've yet to figure out how it works, so I'll save that for when I've the patience. [ Blue eyes slip back down the paper. ] Most of these are easily combinable, at least....although I find the choices she's given you to be a bit surprising.

[ Like, for Syrlya? Biting and dirty talk certainly doesn't seem like it's up his particular alley...for now, anyway. Who's to say where that goes. ]

Ah. [That seems distracting, unless it's meant to be with one of those sexual movies that he and Kaeya had ended up finding. As... instruction?

Well, it's off the table so he waves the hand away. He quirks a brow.] Surprising? I hope there isn't something about them I am misunderstanding.

[ Lord forbid he ever finds that out. He's still attempting to parse the idea of movies in general. ]

They're fairly straightforward, so I'd also hope not. [ Still, he mulls it over in his head for a few moments before he lets the smile crawl over his face once again. ] I'm merely curious as to whether she's attempting to give you some new tastes.

[ A tilt of the head. ]

Unless, of course...I was the one wrong, and perhaps you do like a bit of pain? [ His fingers slowly trails from one square to another. ] You didn't strike me as a man for a particular enjoyment for vulgar words, either, but if that's what you'd like to hear, that can certainly be arranged.

[Syrlya's expression twists, a little rueful.] Truthfully, I don't know what I would care for. I've never given it much thought.

[Or at least, not for a very long time. One crisis after another, watching other people's relationships strained and destroyed by the trauma and death of war... all of that intimacy has been firmly off the table for him.] I assume it's different than any injury on the battlefield.

But what about you? [He tilts his head.] Were you presented with all new experiences, or is a little restraint to your favor?

[ Must he really kill the mood right now. Adelis makes an exasperated noise, pressing his cheek further into his hand. ]

Well, I suppose now is the time, isn't it. [ He's practically a fucking saint, at this point. Utterly horrible. ] And if the injuries on the battlefield include teeth and pleasure, I'd be far more concerned for what sort of battles you're fighting.

[ They don't even got traditional vampires, so that's not even an excuse.

The question aimed at himself drags them back around, however. ]

Curious of the details, are we? [ His legs cross under the table. ] I did say I've dabbled in a number of these choices...and rope is certainly one of them. You certainly can't get far in my profession without learning how to tie a few knots.

[Anyway, it's probably a good thing he didn't get 'flirting' on his bingo.

At least turning the question back on Adelis gets them off the discussion of war, because Syrlya is curious.] So, you've found multiple applications for your skillset. Does that mean I am the one getting tied up?

[Like, he can do a basic knot. They might have to cut it off after, though. Hm.]

[ That's probably better for the both of them, at this point.

Hells, he's so serious. It's a good thing he's in a good mood, and he's used to the stifled sorts. That just means it requires a far more forward approach, then- So he gets up from his chair with nary a sound, casually stepping around the table until he's on Syrlya's side of it.

When he leans one hand on the table, it's to reach out the other, and to dip a finger in the taller man's collar if only to tug him a bit closer. ]

Do you think yourself capable of restraining me? In which case, you're more than welcome to try. [ It's unlikely that's a genuine question, especially with the emphasis on 'try'. ] You might find I'm far faster than you, however...and I've been told I'm very difficult to keep down.

[O-oh. A blush blooms afresh on his face as his expression slips, a knot of something twisting in his stomach as Adelis draws him in.]

W-well. [He swallows to clear his throat.] You won't find rope enough to keep me in place. But perhaps I can be... persuaded. To play along.

[ That's more like it.

He hums a bit at that, like he finds it an amusing suggestion. ]

I suppose we'll see about that, won't we. [ Adelis straightens up, giving the other's collar another firm tug to urge him to do the same. ] Now, are you going to stay seated with the intention of giving my poor roommate a show, or are you going to get up?

[Oh, right. He braces a hand against the chair as he slowly stands. That blush has not died down at all.] Let's not add an audience. Your room?

[He's prepared to follow, apparently... by his collar, a little stunned still to protest.]

Well, if it was something you had wanted to explore, I wouldn't have protested. [ A lie, but he's enjoying pushing buttons. ] But come along, then.

[ Luckily, the bedroom is nearby and it's just as clean as the rest of the house- although a tad darker, one notices, with thick curtains and not very much in terms of personal effects out on display...at least on Adelis' side, which he doesn't hesitate in dragging the other over to before promptly shoving him down to sit on the well-made bed. ]

I would go out of my way to warn you I'm not the gentle sort... [ His smile doesn't waver, especially as he leans over with one knee straddling the other man. ] But you come off as a smart man, so I'm sure you've figured that out already, haven't you?

[Syrlya staggers as he falls into the bed, the movement shocking him out of his daze. And then Adelis closes in, and for once Syrlya is forced to look up.]

No need to treat me delicately. [It's said low, his gaze wander enough to contemplate what to do before he reaches to rest his hands on Adelis' hips.] When playing with knives, one must expect a few... nicks and cuts.

Well. Don't regret telling me that, now.

[ He lets the hands settle at his hips without a fuss, as his own reach up for the other's face. His hands are bare, so there's no leather to hide the cold of his skin- for now, anyway. One idly traces across the other's covered shoulder, while the other curves over his cheek, thumb brushing dangerously close to his lips. ]

You realize you never told me what it was you wanted. [ After all, this is a transaction, and he prefers to keep things fair- even as he leans closer until their noses are practically brushing. ] Since you're such a fan of sharp things, why don't you tell me which you'd like sharper- my tongue, or my teeth? Or perhaps...something simpler?

[ Pick a card, Syrlya. Any card at all. ]

[A shudder runs down his spine as Adelis' hands trace over him.

What he wants is not a question that often runs through his mind. His life has been carefully guided by forces beyond him, burdened with a duty he world be condemning the world by abandoning. What he wants--what defines who he is outside of the blade he carries is still a fresh and unanswered question.

But the roiling desire growing makes trying to actually think about that difficult. He's at the edges of feelings he's experienced before, and rapidly about to enter unknown territory.

And Adelis is asking about his bingo, anyway. His petal-lips part as Adelis' nare hand drifts closer--cold, smooth skin on cold, smooth skin--and his fingers curl against the edge of his corset.] Well, now I am curious what you consider simpler than bruising me with your teeth.

[ He can tell, obviously, he's still overthinking things. He supposes he'll have to get used to that, if that's his way- a small obstacle right now, easily overcome with the right effort. He lets the hand on the other's shoulder drop to Syrlya's, promptly taking his fingers and ever so slowly guiding them around the laces of his corset. ]

Hah. That's very cute. [ The laugh is low, as is the drop in his voice as his other leg joins them on the bed to effectively trap the other man in. ] That you think bruising is the only thing you'll be getting.

[ And that's the only warning he's getting before Adelis promptly slams their lips together, letting his teeth sharply nip at the petal softness of the other's lips. Open up. ]

[His fingers loop around the string as Adelis guides his hand around, pulling the end of it taut. The moment seems so slow--and he's thinking about asking for clarification--but then Adelis quickly descends upon him.]

Ah--[It's just the slightest, surprised gasp as sharp pain pierces his lip--but it opens up, his mouth.

His hand at the edge of the lacing pulls down, undoing the knot holding the corset together.]

[ To better way to learn than through action, or so he'd been taught. The fingers tugging at the corset strings earn a pleased hum, own hand dipping down to hook a finger in the laces of his heels, pulling them loose with one swift, practiced movement.

Perhaps, if he had guessed this was where they would have gone, he'd have worn a little less. Well, all part of the fun, in the end.

He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into the other's mouth, pressing down a bit further as he tilts Syrlya's chin up in the slightest. It's certainly a new sensation, being wholly used to warm bodies who are softer besides, but you'd never guess by the lack of hesitation. He'll learn as he goes along. ]

[They are both far too overdressed, between all their strings and ribbons. It's a problem Syrlya has a growing desire to work on, were the sensations of Adelis roaming his mouth not overwhelming. He fumbles, clearly unused to the motion but there's an unmissable eagerness as he attempts to reciprocate with his own tongue rolling to meet Adelis'.

The grip of his fingers tightens, and his one hand curls into the lacing to pull it looser and looser.]

[ He does like to see an active effort, so while Syrlya's attempts are fairly clumsy, there's enough enthusiasm behind it to make up for it. It's been a while for him, but there's little rust in the way he meets the eager glide of Syrlya's tongue with his own, the hints of warmth crawling to the surface of his skin once more.

It's loose enough now that the lacing slips out easily, and since he's in a giving mood, he reaches to help pull it off before casually discarding it off the side of the bed. When he pulls away a fraction, it's so he can be heard as he coils his fingers in the taller's shirt to begin tugging it off. ]

I find it far easier to work with nothing in the way. [ Adelis' fingers are deft and quick, but he certainly can't do all the work. That would take the fun out of it. ] So why don't you be good and assist me.

[Syrlya's fingers twist into the looser fabric of Adelis' shirt as his waist is freed. He leans forward as touch as Adelis breaks off, but not enough to meet him for another kiss before he stops and opens his eyes.]

Oh--right. [The tugging up doesn't do move to disrobe him, as it's quickly evident that under the sash at his waist, he's actually wearing a singular dress piece. But he doesn't try to push Adelis off, and instead releases his shirt to instead pull off his own gloves and let them drop to the floor.

He pulls one hand around, unbuttoning his collar and opening it up.] I--may need to stand up.

[ Ah. Mages and their bloody robes. He won't roll his eyes at that, but if he's offering to do it himself, he'll hardly complain. ]

If you insist.

[ He'll roll off then, lazily plopping himself down on the bed's edge himself, only taking a moment to smoothly slide off his boots and deposit them on the floor. Whether it takes a moment for Syrlya to gather himself or not, Adelis will gesture with one tattoed hand, leaning back on his hand expectantly as he doesn't make much of a move to disrobe himself. ]

Well? Go ahead.

[ Yes, he is going to watch. Take it off, plant boy. ]

[Mages and their bloody robes.

Syrlya takes a steadying gasp, willing his arms to be steadier than they are as he leans over to peel off one thigh high boot after another. Then he moves to stand looking over his shoulder as Adelis leans back to watch the show.

A wry smirk tugs the corner of his lip and he turns slightly as he undoes the bow holding his sash wrapped around his waist. That, he lets drop more gently, and with it finally free he can grab the skirt of his robe and pull it over his head to leave only thin tights on his legs.

The way leaves press and wind to maintain a vaguely human shape is probably expected, as is the way his glow travels down his back, waist, and arms. Less visible under all his armor is the gradient teal pattern that colors the largest leaves and speckles his appendages... and a wide deep, concave scar that goes from his sternum to his stomach. It's dry and old, but the size doesn't look like it would have been easy to survive. If at all.]

[ My. Adelis lets his own smirk linger on his lips as he watches, nary moving besides to cross his legs as if this was the most casual of circumstances. A bit tedious, he'll admit, but at least Syrlya seems used to it.

He's not too sure what he was expecting, but he was expecting something out of the norm, and he isn't too off the mark. Blue eyes trail in something akin to fascination, from the glow to the patterns on his skin, and they stop on the scar marring his front- but if it's surprising at all, he doesn't show it. Nor does Adelis comment, because he wagers some things are best left unprodded, a notion he's rather intimately acquainted with. ]

Perhaps you learn even quicker than I thought.

[ There's a soft hum as he reaches over, pulling the drawer on his bedside table open smoothly and pulling out two items in one swift moment before dropping them on the bed. He'll just leave both the bottle and the rope in plain sight whilst maintaining eye contact. ]

I'll let you make a choice, since I'm in such a generous mood. Do you wish to watch in turn- [ He raises a hand to the clasp of his overshirt, letting it pop open with a quick brush of his fingers. ] or do you wish to help?

[Adelis' composed reaction means Syrlya doesn't think twice about it, the mark. It's old by years and he's used to moving with it--but the topic of conversation is a real mood killer.

The robe falls behind him, and then he starts to roll down his tights. There's a pause as he looks aside at the bottle and rope--well, he really has those on hand, doesn't he--and then he stumbles out of his tights to leave a bare covering of leaves that seem to grow off him and keep his groin shielded.

That, he'll deal with later, because right now Adelis has just popped the collar of his shirt and Syrlya wants to know what's under there, too.]

I've always been a very hands on person. [He starts to close the distance between them, a hand outstretched to brush against Adelis' arm before intending to wander to his waist.]

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Let's start the NSFW warning now

NSFT (not safe for trees)

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