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Rosnay Island / Re: Afternoon Snack
« Last post by Aramis Dupuis on Yesterday at 11:19:09 PM »
Her proximity, the shift of her weight on the blanket, the change in the air -- his gaze knifed to the corner of his eye, eyelids relaxing. Lowered, almost demure. A half step closer to an edge he rarely showed the house. Jaw flexing he refused to still, to react as the hungry-thing in his chest liked to. Easier, like a sigh, to smother it away now.

It pleases me not to wade too deeply into this, he thought. Too easy, perhaps. If his desires were hers, then Aramis knew better the angle she moved from.

"Is that so," he stated, turning his head toward her while his eyes lagged behind. He could almost feel her lips against his skin, and then they pressed against his shoulder. Brave. When he did at last look up at her their closeness did nothing to shake his focus. He turned more fully, sliding onto his hip, knees curling toward her, propped up by one hand, feeling the glide over fingers down his shirt. The opposite came to rest on one slender forearm, closing the circle between them. Her skin was soft, and he ran his thumb in a lazy sweep over the hair there. Below was the firmness of her muscle, of bone, of blood and vein and sinew.

He was closer to a living person than he'd been in days.

Aramis let himself have plenty. Maybe too much, sometimes. But what was the reward when there was no risk? His allowances may some day come for him, but likely not from Pella. "And you would let me take my pleasure, then? Indulge in rest and... leisure?" It rolled over his tongue like a sweet, looking up through his eyelashes at her. There was no pressure in this at least. No tightness in his skin that made Pella look like anything other than Pella. No way to communicate that, though. No way to say that he wasn't... hungry, without acknowledging the shadow that hung around his throat.

Pella was typically sound. Aramis trusted his ability to stop, adjust, adapt around his own limitations. He didn't quite know about her, though. Bravery could only shield so much.

"How generous of you," he murmured, fingers tracing up her arm to her elbow. Warm. Solid. Present. That, more than anything, was a comfort. Too frequently it felt like the only real thing in the world was him.
Link Back / Re: Resolution
« Last post by Prophetess on October 13, 2019, 01:08:55 PM »
Current Events:

We have a forum wide event with mini-events to extend through to December. They are open to new and existing members.

We have one last were race to be revealed in November.

There are plenty of member driven plots that are easy to jump into.

Several want ads that are looking for a good home.
Norr Province / Re: Testing boundaries [cw]
« Last post by Danger on October 13, 2019, 12:14:02 PM »
Breath on his skin. Warm and ticklish as it rolled across his shoulder. Danger couldnít know that the feeling was really a sound. Not without catching the vibrations in Iskraís throat, or seeing the movement of her lips. Both lost to his notice. Too overstimulated by a thousand other sensations. Like the way the soft heat he tried to envelope his spear into twitched away in a quick shift of hips and tail. Face turned down he bit his lips together. Frustration a lump in his stomach that pulled painfully on the root of his sex. His attempts to find that sweet spot of entry again were blocked by the mattress as it molded to her curves. That didnít stop him from trying, though. Knees parting wider under the hook of her thighs to sink him lower on the bed. The worry in her voice a flavor in the air that was hidden beneath lust and shower water.

That she bowed her body on purpose was slow to creep into his head. All the signs pointed to eagerness. The way she wiggled underneath him to find a better position, and the pull at his scalp masked her anxiety as frenzied desire. Danger breathed hard through his nose as she stole his breath- and his tongue. Tucked trembling hands into her hair to sweep his thumbs at the base of pointed ears. Forearms framing her face as they tried again. At least, he thought they were trying again. The suck of his tongue passed her sharp little teeth making his fingers tighten in her hair, and easing the agony of sweet pressure on his spear as she rode it the wrong way. Aching glands dipped in slick wet pleasure that rolled away before he could get caught in the place he wanted to so badly to be.

*Right there.* He shot across the thread as her hips brought her flush to the tip of his spear again. A hand tentatively splayed under her navel to help her stay still. That wasnít the problem though, he realized belatedly. She didnít squirm and wriggle because she was too excited to stay still. It wasnít poor timing and worse aim. She was flinching away on purpose. A sliver of guilt wedged into his chest, but confusion was the reigning emotion in that moment. Arms propping him higher he tried to puzzle together what had happened. Fluff tickled his leg as she looped her tail around his leg, body instinctively bending in for her to tuck against as his probes whipped wildly around the pain in the air as if they could wave it away on the psychic plane.

He could feel the shards of distress and hurt throbbing in the air between their touching faces. Sensations that were highly at odds with the confident stroke she gave his spear. Static filled their link as he tried to build up words to answer her charge. Defensiveness going to war with his compassion. Why wouldnít he fit? Someone else had fit. Hadnít they? Theyíd certainly gotten in, the evidence was plain on her psyche. Iskraís Webs had been tried and not found wanting. What about the rest of her though? He didnít know. He didnít know if he would actually fit either. He had fit other women fine. Or at least none had complained. But Iskra was not like any woman he had ever known. Not in spirit, or in body. If his own experience on such matters was lacking, then how could hers be much broader? She was still newly not-a-virgin. And the gaps in his knowledge were no less glaring there. He didnít know how new, how practiced, how informed, she was. Iskra was a healer, though, and she would know the limits of her unique body better than he likely ever could.

*I want you too.* He was quick to encourage, the words pregnant in anticipation to the end of her sentence. An end that didnít come. There were not instructions. Nothing after the Ďbutí to tell him how to remedy the situation. How to make the wanting enough. Only pretty lips that spelled out words he only caught parts of. And a woman that went limp under him as if she were resigned rather than ready. Pressing his face into the sheets and away from her soft touch Danger let a trapped growl shake his teeth until they ached. Elbow deep in the mattress top and hand clenched at the hair on the back of his head he fought back a sigh. Energy spent into the act of not making a sound. A small relief that made his shame and defeat bearable. Now she was scared. Of course, of fucking course. He could have cried in annoyance, and quite nearly did.

Danger came back up for air slowly. Blinking to make sure his eyes didnít give away the depth of his tantrum. Hip shifting he laid beside her rather than on top. Arms cradling rather than clinging. One under her head and one curled around to her back. *Iím sorry.* Terrifying. The passion that had driven him crazy buried itself in his bones. Big. All the energy that had made him hard and aching seeped out of his toes. Those were definitely words that fit Danger. Danger who would not fit for Iskra. Leaning into her request he pressed soft kisses to her bottom lip. He had been warning her for weeks that he was dangerous. He didnít want to blame her for it sinking in now but it all felt very unfair. Much as he knew it was not and roared in internal self-disgust. *I didnít mean to scare you.*

Hands that explored to fervently. Lips that could tear down her house, or through her psyche, pressing to her throat. A familiar knot tightened in his stomach. Of course she would be terrified. There were a thousand reasons to be. Least of all that he had broken her trust once already. He was far from the practiced hand that would have introduced her to sex. With a swallow he pet her hair smooth. *I shouldnít have let my spear run away with my sense.* She wanted him, he was hers. It wasnít fair of him to put extra expectations on a connection she couldnít control. When he pulled her closer Danger did his best to keep the stiffness of disappointment from his limbs. He kissed her to distract from the mix of emotions in his chest he didnít know how to hide. Having this mistaken as legitimate feelings rather than run off he couldnít contain but wholly rejected would just complicated things. *Iíd have gotten loud anyway. It would have been bad. I really want things to be good with us.* He doubted an unplanned remodel was on anyoneís agenda for the day. And that was considering the possible danger lightly. *It was a bad idea.*
First Link / Digimon: Kids in America!
« Last post by Trevon Mclaughlin on October 13, 2019, 02:23:29 AM »
First Link / Marvel Evolution
« Last post by Rider on October 07, 2019, 11:59:36 PM »

The world is changing.

Mutants. Ancient Evils. Extraterrestrials. Magic. New York is becoming a battleground in the human-mutant conflict as the X-Men, and Brotherhood both react to the new Superhuman Registration Act. Organized crime and the Guilds clash with the Street Level and Unaffiliated heroes who roam the streets. Mystic threats are encroaching and outside the atmosphere more and more beings are becoming interested in the Earth, testing the guardians of this world.

There won't be the option to stand back and watch for much longer.

Welcome  to the
[size=8]Marvel: Evolution[/size]

AU Marvel RPG. OC friendly. Intermediate to advanced. No word count. 2+ years.

Rules | Plot | Application| Claims
Rosnay Island / Re: Not a Spider or a Fly
« Last post by Jin-ae So on October 07, 2019, 11:42:47 PM »
She was reminded, with no little humor, of the horses her mother kept, the ones bought from the more nomadic Blood they'd considered neighbors. There was a wildness to them, a caution that lingered no matter how long they were held safe. Paris, who Jin-ae fought not to look in the eye when she caught a glance, was much the same. There was a caution in him Jin-ae didn't quite see in others, and she wondered at it.

"And what does make a good pen tip? I have yet to find one I favor." She wondered at the manners of people, too. Paris was the first person she'd interacted with who was not above her in station. Or, what height he might have was achieved through something she could not have. Her legs were not so long, after all. The thought made her fight to tuck a smile away, head tilted down, and berated herself. He was of the island longer, at least, although the minutia of the space between them was lost on her. She felt the irrational desire to reach out and grab him, and she put that away too. Likely the same reason he had not responded with courtesy to her thanks would be the reason for the way he kept himself from her space.

Best not to cause trouble for Lord Nazaire while out with his Lady's... man? His Lady's servant, at least. Best not to cause trouble for her Lord while in the market.

"I enjoy walking as well, although the people I see are only those my Lady frequents." And doubtless it would not be lost on him that he fell into that category as well. Her mother would be proud; at last, some tact upon her tongue.

Soured by the thought, she redirected. "I must confess a preference," she admitted, eyes moving between the curve of Paris' chin, his hands, and their exchange of tints. "I find the estate much more peaceable." She could deal with the birds and the monkeys and whatever other animals circled Lady Salome's yard, or Captain Nazaire's, but Darkness she had never disliked the attention of people as much as she did at the market. Even Anahi's vendors had not been like this, leaving an edge of apprehension to her.

She tempered a laugh at his smirk and his jab, amused by the idea of any kind of contest around a hue. "And I suppose simply crushing the bird's fallen feathers doesn't make any kind of satisfactory color," she stated, pitched low and almost a question. It had been one of the first things impressed upon her, the importance of the bird. It hadn't changed her opinion on them, in that they were strange, if pretty, and somewhat annoying, but it was still a sentiment best kept to herself.

Paying and following, Jin-ae lifted her chin as they passed the crying child and its mother. Such displays were infrequent in Dhemlan, and her own household had not tolerated open tantrums any more than fits within the walls of their home. She had lagged and stared the first time she'd seen a child weeping here, but had quickly overcome her desire to either comfort or reprimand. Now, her pace barely slowed, and she prayed Paris' wouldn't recognize any hesitance in her or make any inquiries. "A year this summer," she replied. How little and how much time had passed, how little and how much change. Darkness. "How long have you been with the temple?"
SÝr Province / Re: Mountain Shadows
« Last post by Valeska Spearfang on October 07, 2019, 10:59:10 PM »
For hours Valeska's rage and disgust and desire warred within her. A mess, tumultuous, she stalked from the water to her home, snarling and flashing black eyes at anyone who got too close, mind whirling over the request - the order - that weighed down her chest.

On the one hand, the forever-memory of her brother's scent, cold flesh trapped in the snow. His body, too light in her arms as she'd carried him home. Her mother's tears.

On the other, every dance and song and story, every breath of tradition. Of a laws that hadn't changed despite the shifting tides and waning moons, of a unity of people that Val was still part of, tenuous as it was.

The consequences for her actions could be monumentous. Traitor. War-bringer. Because that would be what she was, if she failed in any way. Bring a wrath of people down upon a group that she held allegiance to by kinship, if not by blood. But what was stronger, then? If it got out who - or what - she was, it could be a stain on all of them. There would be consequences, repercussions, that would ripple beyond her.

Ivanhoe's empty eyes haunted her thoughts as much as the taste of her own conflict.

I will try. If there is an opportunity.

The ghost of her mother hung over her, sad eyes and phantom frowns. Already guilt ate at her. There was something so wrong about the idea. Val was no stranger to death, either by tooth or by hand, but.


If there's opportunity, take it.

Valeska packed, left but several of her nets and her bows and her traps, and spent the night before her trek in the water. Alone, in the sea, surrounded by the cold dark void, she pretended she was once again alone. Some things were so much easier, before.

She'd forgotten the noise of a group who were happy. Darkness, she wasn't used to this many people in general, never mind the sheer volume of sound they made. She'd packed for comfort and made her way slowly, and still she came upon them as they congregated, and for a while she lost herself in something she hadn't known as an adult. Stilted, her tent pitched alone and a little away from others, it was a kind handed neighbor who guided her in making paints, another in how to weave her family's tokens into her hair, withdrawn from the depths of her cabinet with care.

Her steps were stilted. The dances hurt in a way that her mind shied from. She ate silently at a different neighbor's fire, smile thin and uncertain, and turned in early. When sleep failed to take her, framed by the softness of her mother's frown, she listened to them sing long into the night.

The following morning was little better. She rose stiff, washing herself of any lingering paint, but her hands wouldn't obey her to par her hair back down to its simplicity. The weave remained, and her calloused fingers lingered over a length of leather and beads she could just faintly remember her mother putting together, smiling. Not a strong enough memory to keep in the wood, but a feeling. An ache, beside her heart.

Crisp air greeted her, and she banished the thought from her mind. She had a tent to look for, a sign of her target, and it would be... good, to mingle. To build bridges, perhaps, and lessen some of the weight of her position at home, of her guilt here.

She circled the hunters and their wares, engaging in conversation more about knives and fish hooks and spear shafts, evading those that asked after her people. Let them imagine, with their speculative eyes and dismissive minds, their kind hearts, why Valeska appeared alone. No outright lies, just misdirection. She had practice at building the shadow of a distant people even before Syral and that ox hunt. She was good at this, she reminded herself. There was nothing she could not do that she set her mind to. Look how long she had survived.

Hadn't she?

His voice came to her over the susurrus, caught wandering between people, spiraling in her mind. She watched him approach in clipped moments, far in one, in front of her the next. His question passed through her, caught blinking up at him while it registered. "Yes," she said at last, looking away, past the crowd, toward something not full of people she didn't know how to interact with. "There are more people than I remember." From what little she could remember. It could have been larger when she was a child, and she wouldn't know. There seemed to be no memories in her mind, locked away by the humming anxiety the crowd inspired and her refusal to contemplate her mission in the light. "And yourself?" Let him talk, and pull her mind elsewhere.
Estel Province / Re: crossing boundaries
« Last post by Finnian Tavish on October 05, 2019, 09:27:42 AM »

Thumb passing behind his ear, Finn's head tipped away, eyes rolling across the room. Smoke making stains across the ceiling beams. Faint swirls of darkness that were not wood grain. "I suppose that might rouse less curiosity." Did they hide the more private art when the other Blood came? It was a thought he tucked down the length of his tongue as he peered over his daughter's shoulder.

Held there while he was chased away. Scolded as if he were the child. Hackles still smooth and smile more amused that wounded, whatever he pretended at. He knew his place. His role. "Of course lady, most pivotal. But still unpleasant to look upon." He never had been able to stomach watching another make the transition between one shape and the next.

He watched her at her work. Back to him until he brought up the child. For this she turned, a smile crossing her lips that was more genuine and welcoming than any she had turned on him so far. Finnian's own mouth curved in answer. "Children are always a blessing." His eyes slid toward Annaleigh. An edged blade to his heart. There had been those who had sought to use her against him.

They'd not lived long enough to attempt follow through on the threat. His Ebon-grey only rose to answer such challenges rather than becoming subdued by them. "With so many to ask, I'm sure she could do nothing but listen." Palm up in homage, Finn flicked his fingers. He'd been taught to speak prettily when needed. Daughter rolling her eyes at him before turning to the place pointed out to her by Moira.

Finnian moved closer to the pack leader, child safe at his back. Himself staunchly between both. He would always be her shield. From words. From weapons. He would guard her from the whole world, and so save his own heart. "Oh, interrupting is something I am never allowed to do, lady, you may be sure." Smile rueful enough to prove his intent had often been just that. His worry a father's worry.

The shift was a pain he could not shield her from, only prepare her for and suffer alongside her. Hopeless in his helplessness. "I will heed your advice in this thing." She did not fret or fuss, which soothed tension from two sets of shoulders. "Kind of you." Finn followed her to the bench. A knee to its side as she sat, hands sliding into his pockets as they watched his daughter.

He did not sit until she invited him. A swift glance to judge if it was also foolish of her to invite him into her house. She seemed sure, but not of him. Teeth flashing, Finn wrapped his fingers around the front of the bench and leaned toward his knees. "She has a daughter too, who will rule when my lady passes." Spine like steel, Finn ducked his chin, lips drawn tight over his gums. Teeth bared in what was not a smile.

"Better for everyone a hard earned trust than none at all, yes?" Putting his fangs away, Finn looked at Moira, chin bumping against the coil of muscle beneath the fold of his sleeve. There was a sleepy, half amused promise in his eyes. "You have a need of strength, you and your pack. And I have need of a place where I can trust as well." He did not want to be a raider again. Friendless. Family less.

Shoulders rolling, Finn sat back. "As well as can be expected. I am waiting for the reality of it to set in before I judge her happiness on the matter." His eyes watched her, other senses attuned to the pack leader at his side. But Finn always knew which way Annaleigh lay. "She is unwelcoming of change, and doubtful of my sense, but here she is. And she didn't even bite me once along the way."

Rosnay Island / Re: Afternoon Snack
« Last post by Pella Labeau on October 05, 2019, 08:55:19 AM »

A clever trick. Too often it seemed people forgot what they could carry. Or what they should. Cabinets filled with bits and bobbles but nothing useful or needing. Not in Aramis' case. Blank spread deftly over green fronds that bowed beneath its weight. Made into cushions as she eased her body down onto a corner. Feet tucked neatly behind her, so that her thighs and calves made a pleasing shape.

Pella had no doubt that in Aramis' cabinet were all the little tools needed for a days work, whatever that work might prove to be. Blades for prying open shells. Blades for prying open people. Blankets just like this one for rare moments just like this one.

Chin to her shoulder, Pella looked out at the blue-green swirl of the sea. White froth blending into the darker colors of the depths. Nearly invisible shadows moving beneath the waves. She let her hair fall across her face even though he was not looking. Let her back arch and her lids grow heavy. Refusing to be spiteful against what appeared disinterest, Aramis' eyes drawn elsewhere. Watching the bird adorned tree tops as she watched the see.

A studied sort of ignoring.

She moved when he spoke however, a hand fitting into the cradle between his shoulder blades. Fingers following the curve of his spine downward. "Pleasing you pleases me today." Weight rolled onto her knees so she could kneel half behind him. Thumbs tracing muscles upward, she kneaded gently, carefully. Letting her hair brush the back of his arm. The ends curling around his elbow.

"Have we not earned some leisure and rest?" The question put into the air near his ear. An eyebrow he couldn't see sweeping upward in question. Each of them working for the best of the group. The front that hid their rookery. Bold, Pella kissed his shoulder, palm spreading low across his back. "The others find time to dive off for playful swims. Let us have this." Let them have each other. Alone in a place no one would hear or find them.

No help should things go terribly wrong. No interruptions if they went terribly right. Just the sea at her back, the jungle at her front. And Aramis, a strange combination of both.

First Link / DEVILS & DUST [JCINK]
« Last post by SKYE_DD on October 01, 2019, 03:11:57 AM »

D&D is a steampunk supernatural roleplay set in 2049 in England.
We are a dynamic board with member-driven plots and a friendly creative community.

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Recent Topics

Afternoon Snack by Aramis Dupuis
[Yesterday at 11:19:09 PM]

Testing boundaries [cw] by Danger
[October 13, 2019, 12:14:02 PM]

Not a Spider or a Fly by Jin-ae So
[October 07, 2019, 11:42:47 PM]

Mountain Shadows by Valeska Spearfang
[October 07, 2019, 10:59:10 PM]

crossing boundaries by Finnian Tavish
[October 05, 2019, 09:27:42 AM]


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