Barok van Zieks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
winebar) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crescentview2023-01-17 10:01 pm
winebar) wrote in crescentview2023-01-17 10:01 pm
Town Hall Meeting The Second
WHO: Everyone willing
WHAT: van Zieks trying to catherd, again, in order to Establish Law & Order.
WHEN: Sometime in the Summer between the various events.
WHERE: the forest, outside van Zieks' farm.
WARNINGS: chaos mostly, more will be added if needed.
[A week or so after the chaos of Hot or Not, each farm will recieve another missive from Barry Z himself, chief buzzkill, who clearly learned nothing from how things went last time. It reads as such;]
To All Parties Brought to the Island by the Harvest Goddess,
Tomorrow at 11AM sharp, please arrive at the location indicated on the map shown of the reverse of this document. The topic of discussion on the table is the potential establishment of some form of social contract and body of law. As before, I cannot force attendance, however, I would again hope everyone sees the benefit in being involved in this discussion.
Sincerely,
Lord Barok van Zieks, Esquire
[And again as before, there's a map on the back. This time leading one to van Zieks' residence, an orderly forest farm with a nice stable currently housing the horse van Zieks rode in on to make himself the boss of things, apparently.
At the time of the meeting, there are two tables that were clearly brought out from inside. There are... snacks? Van Zieks is not a chef, you will have these strawberries and fried mushrooms and you'll like it, I guess. There was an attempt. Van Zieks himself is still dressing in his less fancy- but still absurd for this weather- three piece suit.]
Than you all for coming. I understand that the topic I have put on the table may seem... needlessly dire to some, however, in the case that something does happen, it would be far better for us to already have a system in place. I do not think we currently require any sort of active police force, but rather that we should have some sort of agreed set of behavior in place, and then elected individuals to adjudicate any potential disagreements.
As far as a social contract, on Mr. Trahearne's advisement, it would follow thusly; [He pulls out another paper to read from.]
- Do not cause unsolicited physical harm to one other.
- Do not harm or otherwise disrupt another person's farm.
- Do not damage, destroy, or unlawfully take possession of another person's property.
- Do not vandalize or otherwise disrupt communal spaces for us or the townspeople.
- Do not behave in such a manner that would elicit broad reprisal against the group as a whole from the townspeople or the goddess.
If anyone has any other thoughts, feel free to share them. I feel that this is basic enough that even those of you more prone to... rebellion can agree to it.
The second matter is to discuss how to handle if someone does break these rules. While I have made clear before my prior experience with the law, I understand that a system like this can only function if there is trust in those enforcing it. Thus I think that the authority should be given to whoever the group as a whole feels most comfortable entrusting it to. So I open the floor to nominations for that responsibility.
Finally, I'd like to make clear why this is necessary. I have spoken to the goddess, and as long as it does not directly interfere with her and her means, she has no intent of intervening if something were to happen to one of us. We are not her "people," the residents of the town are. Therefore, it is imperative that we work together to protect ourselves.
[And now he will step back and hope that some productive discussion happens.]
WHAT: van Zieks trying to catherd, again, in order to Establish Law & Order.
WHEN: Sometime in the Summer between the various events.
WHERE: the forest, outside van Zieks' farm.
WARNINGS: chaos mostly, more will be added if needed.
[A week or so after the chaos of Hot or Not, each farm will recieve another missive from Barry Z himself, chief buzzkill, who clearly learned nothing from how things went last time. It reads as such;]
To All Parties Brought to the Island by the Harvest Goddess,
Tomorrow at 11AM sharp, please arrive at the location indicated on the map shown of the reverse of this document. The topic of discussion on the table is the potential establishment of some form of social contract and body of law. As before, I cannot force attendance, however, I would again hope everyone sees the benefit in being involved in this discussion.
Sincerely,
Lord Barok van Zieks, Esquire
[And again as before, there's a map on the back. This time leading one to van Zieks' residence, an orderly forest farm with a nice stable currently housing the horse van Zieks rode in on to make himself the boss of things, apparently.
At the time of the meeting, there are two tables that were clearly brought out from inside. There are... snacks? Van Zieks is not a chef, you will have these strawberries and fried mushrooms and you'll like it, I guess. There was an attempt. Van Zieks himself is still dressing in his less fancy- but still absurd for this weather- three piece suit.]
Than you all for coming. I understand that the topic I have put on the table may seem... needlessly dire to some, however, in the case that something does happen, it would be far better for us to already have a system in place. I do not think we currently require any sort of active police force, but rather that we should have some sort of agreed set of behavior in place, and then elected individuals to adjudicate any potential disagreements.
As far as a social contract, on Mr. Trahearne's advisement, it would follow thusly; [He pulls out another paper to read from.]
- Do not cause unsolicited physical harm to one other.
- Do not harm or otherwise disrupt another person's farm.
- Do not damage, destroy, or unlawfully take possession of another person's property.
- Do not vandalize or otherwise disrupt communal spaces for us or the townspeople.
- Do not behave in such a manner that would elicit broad reprisal against the group as a whole from the townspeople or the goddess.
If anyone has any other thoughts, feel free to share them. I feel that this is basic enough that even those of you more prone to... rebellion can agree to it.
The second matter is to discuss how to handle if someone does break these rules. While I have made clear before my prior experience with the law, I understand that a system like this can only function if there is trust in those enforcing it. Thus I think that the authority should be given to whoever the group as a whole feels most comfortable entrusting it to. So I open the floor to nominations for that responsibility.
Finally, I'd like to make clear why this is necessary. I have spoken to the goddess, and as long as it does not directly interfere with her and her means, she has no intent of intervening if something were to happen to one of us. We are not her "people," the residents of the town are. Therefore, it is imperative that we work together to protect ourselves.
[And now he will step back and hope that some productive discussion happens.]
no subject
Unlike Trahearne, who has the luxury of imagining Syrlya below him, no part of this fantasy applies well to Adelis— and that's just as well, because he doesn't want to picture himself with Adelis, right now. His thoughts may wander somewhere strange, and he does not want those to steal him awayhim.
As long as he has someone beside him - that is enough. He just cannot be alone in his worries, because that - he knows, has lived - will consume him entirely.
He doesn't speak again once he receives his confirmation - neither, he knows, is in much mood for murmuring given the air about them. Still, there is something striking about the way Trahearne, his voice and demeanor, that runs down his spine like a shiver and affects him - not Trahearne as he was, lamenting over Syrlya, but his low, pronounced tone, and how he grips him - it's familiar. He rolls against Trahearne's hips in turn, his arousal apparent, and he takes his lips again as if in affirmation; a thoughtless, deep kiss. )
nsfw warning now...? i guess??
It's an affirmation Trahearne has come to understand well; not that he has the experience that Mishka likely has. He's found himself far behind in comparison to those he's been with thus far. But it's evident enough. No longer does he have to pull back and keep asking, to watch curiously and try and decipher facial expressions anymore.
Perhaps it is a bad sign that he's gotten this far without once experiencing it with Syrlya? He doesn't know.
While the heel of his palm presses into Mishka's hip, his fingers dig into the soft flesh of his hip, still surprised by how readily it gives under his touch. He can faintly feel the arousal through the dulled sensations the bark on his groin offers him, but it's enough to feed into his own. All of his walls are down with all this alcohol, anyway.
The hand slides down Mishka's thigh, grabbing at him and pulling his leg up around his waist; at the same time, his head dips from the messy kiss to Mishka's neck. He exhales, a faint growl behind his breath as his teeth scrape against skin and his tongue rolls messily in their wake. What does Adelis's mentor taste like? ]
no subject
He breathes; of course he does. His legs hooked around his waist, his arms slip easy into a loose wreathe around Trahearne's shoulders, his nails digging lightly into skin, teasing light along the spine, as Trahearne's lips escape his, and Mishka's breathing, quickened by arousal, is voiceless.
Where his voice fails him, his shuddering breaths tell of a sort of pleasure wrought from the faint cut of Trahearne's teeth against his skin, his body an almost neurotic clean and yet, faintly, tasting of forest.
His cheek presses against his opposite shoulder, exposing his neck to him as he kisses him. How vulnerable this is; how he hates it; how he's missed it. Not the act, not the position, but this particular style of feeling. )
no subject
But besides that, besides the quickened breath on Mishka's skin, he makes no other noise. It seems they're both the quiet types.
As thanks, he seals his lips onto his skin and begins to suck. Hard. His tongue gently glides over the skin within its enclosure, a stark contrast to how fiercely he digs his teeth into the other. Will it leave a mark? He's not sure. A flash of Syrlya and Adelis holding hands crosses his mind, and he bites harder in his frustration.
The hand at Mishka's waist lets go and drifts to his groin; when his palm feels the arousal through his pants, he presses into it, firmly massaging it. Though he isn't entirely sure what this is--he's far too drunk to think about it--he still wants it. ]
no subject
Enough, he wants to say, but he doesn't want to speak. There's just something dire about the way the sound of their breathing seems to mix, and he doesn't want to lose that. His nails dig along the ridges of Trahearne's spine, but one comes loose to pull at Trahearne's wrist, teasing the fingers below the waistband of his pants (probably a loose, breezy thing for summer).
If Trahearne looks at all, he can already see how the red marks take on his skin; but, given how quickly his chest rises, he seems to like it. )
no subject
His eyes flutter when Mishka moves his hand, and the sight that greets him--dark, red marks on pale flesh--satisfies him in an odd way. Though he doesn't look--his head is much too occupied with moving on to mark another spot, higher up on his neck--his hand obliges. Where Mishka leaves him, he finishes the thought himself; fingers snake into the waistband of his pants and gently cup his cock, getting used to the feeling in his hands again before he begins to stroke, slowly, evenly.
Trahearne likes how pliant this man is. He likes how he allows him to do what he likes to him. He's glad he understands him, how he needs this. But besides the slight curl of his lips against his skin, that's the only indication he gives of that thought. ]
no subject
Those were quick, lust-driven things; and though it was sorrow that characterized this interaction, he finds himself preoccupied less with recollection of the thing that had so upset him and more with Trahearne's strange texture, how cool he feels against his skin compared to the circulation of his own body.
(How sweet he smells, the insects in him suggest.)
Trahearne indulging in teething and stroking him only serves to drive his arousal, already intense, into something stronger. His precum drips embarassingly thick as his cock responds to Trahearne's touch, the his slow-building flush colors his cheeks lightly, and further down along the neck and shoulders, vibrantly. Fully covered up, it might be hard for anyone to tell he's affected at all.
But Trahearne can see it, feel its warmth, and only him.
It's strange, to hand himself over to someone like this after so long, but he finds he doesn't hate it. He bites his bottom lip lightly as his arousal builds, wondering vaguely if Trahearne would end things after this, or— if he'd want to keep going, hard as Mishka had felt he is. )
no subject
His hand shifts off Mishka's cock, the movement in his mouth pauses as it finishes a new bite mark. The arm propping himself up on the cabinets above come down, and he peels back, gently pulling Mishka's loose summer trousers down. He gives himself room by pulling one leg off, but not the other--good enough, he thinks to himself. He's almost certain they both want this, but it never hurts to ask. He doesn't want to hurt his...new friend.
Trahearne leans in again, pressing himself flush against Mishka as he peels the bark off his own groin, exhaling low in relief as his own erection comes free. He rests his head against Mishka's shoulder, his voice low and groggy as a finger drifts back to tease his entrance. ]
...If you don't mind.
no subject
For a moment he thinks Trahearne really has decided to finish once he pulls his hand away, but the bite that claims him catches a rare, voiced Ah— from his lips, and his hips feel that much cooler. Ah,
He swallows deep, feeling— Trahearne's finger at his entrance and Trahearne pressed against him, not clear on the exact proportion but distantly finding it bigger than he expected (he doesn't know what he expected, granted). But the query, so polite despite their drunken state and terms of meeting, finally fetches a smile on his lips, though Trahearne may not see it.
The hand at Trahearne's spine palms its way up drunkenly to Trahearne's head, fingers tangling in the leaves affectionately, as if to hold him gentle against his shoulder, and the other comes to rest at his chest. )
... Please. ( His voice is quiet, hushed, and secretive when he finally speaks, but almost, in some soft way, a little bit playful. ) You can do anything you'd like. I want you to.
( What else are friends for? )
no subject
Briefly his hand dips away, to slick his cock and hand with the syrup that has begun to leak from the tip, the faint pressure from his own hand giving him relief. Oh, though he still feels vaguely spent from the day before, the arousal aches. He needs this--even if the rational part of him was still awake, it's unlikely he'd stop here.
His clean hand comes to rest on Mishka's hip again, pressing and steadying him against the edge of the counter, as his wet finger pushes in. His finger travels in and out, rubbing against the soft of his insides, before he adds a second. With longer, more deliberate strokes he stretches, feels the heat around him, and silently takes in every minute reaction he gets from the other. He's so quiet. So subtle. Trahearne could possibly close his eyes and think he was someone else... ]